Notes: Prologue added.

Vana'diel: Crystal of Darkness

Prologue

In an age forgotten by the ebb and flow of the tides of time, a dark wind arose from the far corners of Vana'diel. The wind howled with destruction and chaos as it flowed over the lands, sending shadows of evil across the people of Vana'diel. The Crystals of the Elements have long since been hidden from the eyes of the people, but now the Dark Crystal was breaking ground in an island north of the direct center of this world. The Dark Crystal called these winds, and they spun around it in a tornado of fury. The Crystal began to shimmer and the winds howled.

A dark figure took form among the winds. Where he walked light failed to follow, and his shadow would stretch across the lands. With a menacing laugh he embraced the Dark Crystal, and from it came a tremor that shook the very foundations of Vana'diel. From the gashes and crevices carved through the lands they rose. Gigantic creatures with tough dragon-like hides of deep purple or night blue ripped through the lands in a frenzy of destruction. The dark figure laughed among the destruction. No longer shall the vermin of Vana'diel poison the land with their ignorant thirst for the powers of the Elements. No longer will the Crystals wait for their demise by the hand of vermin.

-524 AP, "Behemoth Legend"

"Flank to the right! Keep cover!"

"Kemen, there's too many! We can't- AAH!"

"Keep on, weep for the dead later."

"TO DEATH, DEMON SPAWN!"

"There's just one more- !"

Thunder cracked across the storming sky. The cliff top was littered with the blood and corpses of the dragon-like Behemoths, yet also strewn with the dead forces of Vana'diel. A black crystal jutted up from the ground, looming over it all. The last of the Behemoth's raged a relentless fight, slaying all but five of the forces. A Galka, Tarutaru, Elvaan and Mithra fought on as the last, but his eyes were elsewhere.

The rain began to pour down once more. Kemen tossed off his helmet, revealing long, raven black hair and brilliant blue eyes, tarnished with fear. He knelt down and cradled the dying Mithra in his arms up against his tattered breastplate. She looked up at him and forced a smile amongst her pain. Her brown eyes were tear-ridden, her hair of the same color matted to her forehead. Scrapes and cuts patterned her face, and blood stained her tunic from an unseen wound. But she smiled, and to him was still the most beautiful thing in the world. "Don't leave me." He mouthed, for no words could escape his throat. Her eyes closed. Her breathing silenced. He pressed her against his chest and howled at the rain.

The Hume jumped up and took up his sword once again. His mind was clouded and distorted with anger and loss, focused on nothing but revenge. Kemen gripped his sword in both hands, not even thinking of the shield he left not two footsteps away, and howled with rage as he swung it down toward the Behemoth. A blinding bar of light cut through the rain from the blade and completely engulfed the Behemoth. When the light faded it still stood, though burned and wounded, screaming and raging. Instantly the Hume charged again, and slaughtered the beast in a fury of slashes. Once again the bar of light shot from his sword and completely incinerated the Behemoth's remains. Panting, eyes still glazed over with rage, he left his sword arm fall limp at his side. The other four gaped at Kemen in shock. A tear fell to the rocks below.

"A neat trick, yet childish games will be no use here." The five remaining whipped around to see a dark figure walking toward them, the Dark Crystal looming up behind him. His undistinguishable features shook as he chuckled mirthlessly. He threw out an arm and a dark blade appeared in his hand. It seemed to quiver and fade and drip with a black poison when the eye tried to focus on it. A menacing smile flashed amongst the darkness, and the shadowy figure unleashed his fury upon the remaining five. Kemen's eyes couldn't follow the destruction. One by one his comrades fell in a bloodied head, their bodies pulsing with a black glow after the wounds were inflicted as they fell to the ground, screaming.

Suddenly the dark figure was in front of his face, instinctively he darted aside and swung his sword in defense. The storm picked up. The dark blade easily sliced through his, and the top half clamored to the ground. Lightning flared across the black sky. The Hume stared in shocked and backed away from the figure, who's laughter echoed through the storm winds and reverberated off of every drop of rain that pelted from the sky. Dark shrouds covered his companions bodies. "Don't you wish to join them? Eternal slaves to my power- to the Crystal. To be waiting in death for the rebirth?" His laughter was tainted with evil.

The dark figure's image seemed to blur, and before he knew what happened Kemen had that dark blade pinned through his chest. He could feel the burn of the blade rip through his flesh, could taste the vile, poisonous taint seeping into his body, and he screamed. Blood fell down his breastplate. Without thought the Hume pulled himself free of the black, dripping blade, and staggered back against the Dark Crystal. His mind began to drift toward insanity- or desperation, and he lashed out with his sword. His half cut blade slammed into the Dark Crystal with unimaginable force, and in a blaze of light it shattered into millions of pieces that burst in every direction, cutting his flesh. The shadowy figure screamed, his dark hand reaching out before whisking away like dust in the wind.

All was silence. Deathly silence. Kemen slouched to the ground, alone and dying on the rocks of Behemoth's Dominion. The howling winds whispered of the return.

-------

Chapter I: In the Beginning

She watched them as they marched. Endless lines of strange armor-clad people; some with tails, some short and small, some proud and upright, and some thick and bulky. Each one marched in single file through the countryside toward the shinning city west of the Grand Duchy of Jeuno, armor glistening in the sunlight, robes slightly ruffled by the cool breeze.

The fair, young face of a little Elvaan girl watched in awe at these strange people heading into her lovely city. She swept a few strands of silky black hair behind a pointed ear and looked up at her mother, who stood watching beside her. An innocent, young voice broke the silence, "Mommy, who are they?" The little girl pointed down the hill to the single file lines still marching into the city.

"They're here to protect us." Her mother said in a gentle, loving voice.

"Protect us from what?" She pointed to the marching soldiers.

Her mother gazed out into the sea of sky and sighed, as if she knew one day that she would be standing here explaining all this to her daughter. It was time for her to know about the world in which she was brought into.

"Come sit with me," She sat down among the grass and flowers and motioned toward her daughter to do the same. She promptly plopped down next to her mother and stared at her, eyes shinning full of questions. "It's a very long story, going back thousands of years. They say there was at first an ancient race, so full of power that they, themselves, built a pathway to the entrance of paradise. But when the holy gatekeeper saw this, he destroyed their path and drowned the world, casting the homes of the people to the bottom of the sea. When the goddess Altana awake and saw the ruin of the world she loved, she wept five divine tears- and those tears were said to give life to the five races of Vana'diel.

But the god Promathia saw this, and in rage pit the people against themselves, and then set loose terrible beasts to fight them and occupy their minds. Never again were they to try and open the gates of the gods.

"For ages our people fought amongst each other and these beastmen. Eventually things became peaceful, and the five races prospered. But not one hundred years ago, this being known only as the Shadow Lord appeared without warning, and led the beastmen into great battles against us all..." Her mother grimaced before continuing. "And now they've come here... but we've nothing to fear, these people are here to protect us, and end this awful war." She added with an attempt to mask her worry with cheer.

"Oh..." the girl tried to act like she understood, yet confusion was still evident in her voice. Her mother patted her head and smiled reassuringly.

Inside the city walls, among the many balconies and towers of fortified stone and wood, a young Hume boy in a tattered blue and brown tunic stood next to a Mithra girl in a dirty, plain dress that was so patched and dirt stained that it looked as if it actually belonged to a rough little boy, stood leaning over the edge of a high balcony overlooking the city. The setting sun danced off the edges of his auburn hair, flared off the black shard hanging around his neck, and reflected in the eyes of the young girl. The two cat-like ears atop her head protruding from her short cut brown hair perked forward as she leaned over the edge of the balcony, gazing out over the city at the hundreds of different fighters and mages, tail swaying side to side in the evening breeze. She poked the boy in the side of the head, stuck out her tongue and in a mischievous voice spoke to him, "Hey, check this out," She tossed a rock up and down in her hand.

The Hume boy cocked up one eyebrow. "Huh?"

She pointed toward a small group of Tarutaru mages down below the bottom balcony playing cards. One Tarutaru jumped up and let out a squeak of triumph as he swiped another's cards from her hand. "OWSIES!" his celebration was disrupted when his little head jerked forward, causing him to recoil in pain and hold his head. The Tarutaru did a turning jump and angrily thrust one finger up towards the direction the rock had come from and started to curse at the invisible assaulter.

"What the-" The Mithra ducked and yanked the Hume downward, one hand cupped over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter. He peeked down to see the little Tarutaru dancing around in anger, button nose scrunched up and beady eyes flaming with annoyance. In his dance of rage he tripped over a sitting Tarutaru and flew back first into the ground, little arms and legs flailing. The Mithra blurted out with laughter and quickly threw both hands over her mouth again, fighting a losing battle against the ever consuming laughter. Even the boy was struggling to keep a straight face at this; he'd always been a little too serious.

"Oh gods," the Mithra was once more interrupted by her own giggling. "Did- did you see those stupid midgets?! Th-they-" She fell to the ground and continued her struggle to silence the laughter. After all, if they were caught out here with all the soldiers out they would be in serious trouble at the orphanage for being out at such a dangerous time so late in the evening. The Hume looked down at her rolling around on the ground and smiled shyly. He always had a strong sense of right and wrong, but even he had to admit a midget sized Tarutaru getting belted in the head with a rock was funny.

The last beams of sunlight vanished over the horizon, the sun lost behind the hills. All was quiet save the distant chinks of armor and weaponry below. The pair leaned over the balcony and overlooked the city. Soldiers dotted the streets, lined up along the city walls and grouped up on many of the cities other balconies. Every one of them stood still and tense. The boy froze with fear as a shadow cast over him, a strong hand gripped his shoulder.

"It's not safe here. Let's go." He turned around and found himself face to face with a crouching Elvaan warrior. Long, pointed ears stuck out from his long black hair, dark chain mail set upon his chest, along with the mark of San d'Oria upon his breast. He had a grim look on his face. The boy couldn't tell whether the grim look was because of the situation or the fact that it was a common characteristic of the Elvaan people. The Elvaan stood up and started to walk back towards the doorway. The Hume boy turned around again to seek out his friend, but she seemed to have vanished into thin air. Baffled and somewhat saddened, he began to follow the Elvaan through the doorway.

"Don't worry I'll catch up with ya later." A faint whisper swept across him from somewhere behind. He turned around just in time to see a slim, furry tail quickly whisk out of site, disappearing below, bringing a faint smile to his face as the great door closed in front of him.

Outside, the young Mithra sat perched on the edge of the balcony. Below, the city was lined with soldiers. Rangers lined the city walls, arrows notched and drawn, locked onto an invisible foe. She yawned, leaned onto the railing and propped her head up with her hand and stared into the darkening sky with a look of boredom upon her face. Eyes half closed, she began slipping off into sleep when a loud rumble caused her to suddenly jump up. She looked towards the sky, expecting clouds and thunder, but the night was clear, dotted with distant fireflies of the sky, sparking and still. The thunderous noise continued. Bewildered, the Mithra gazed out beyond the city walls. The thunder intensified, the ground began to rumble slightly, intensifying with every second that passed. Dark shadows were appearing over the horizon, stretching their foreboding hands across the land. The dark clouds began to take shape as they approached ever nearer. What appeared to be a vast shadow soon separated into single forms. Hundreds of them. As they grew closer and closer thick hunched-over bodies and large bulky arms started to take shape. Demonic grunts and battle cries from ugly frog-like faces slowly began to disrupt the silence... Orcs.

The young girl's eyes stared widely, her jaw slightly dropped, cat ears erect with both surprise and interest. The stampede of Orcs was now clearly visible. Tensions throughout the five races grew. Warriors gripped their swords tightly, their vision blocked by the walls, they didn't need to see when it was obvious what was going on on the other side of that barrier. Rangers stood ready, strings on their bows pulled back so far it appeared as if they would snap. They approached even closer. Mages bowed their heads and began to mumble spells. They were now close enough to count each individual ugly little wrinkled head, if it were possible with such a wide number of them.

"FIRE!" A command shot out from somewhere below. The rangers let loose a shower of arrows, many of the front line Orcs fell, left to be trampled by their own kind who took no heed to them. The stronger ones simply continued to charge forward, seemingly unscathed by arrows protruding from their muscled, greenish brown-hued bodies. More lines of arrows zipped towards the oncoming terror as another command was shouted, inaudible over the battle even to a Mithra's keen hearing.

The groups of Tarutaru mages who looked so funny and cute before now seemed intensely powerful as they stood, heads bowed, mumbling spells. All at once the Tarutaru threw their arms out towards the night. Small flashes of light dotted the sky, and from them fell heavy meteors encased in a blue aura down upon the Orcish hoards. They connected to the ground in a shock of energy that rumbled the very foundations of the city. Orcs were crushed and thrown aside by over fifty small meteors, yet continued to advance closer and closer to the city walls. The Tarutaru let out a cry of shock at how little the effect was. Arrows continued to fly, mages returned to their casting. The great doors swung open, and out poured the fighters, letting out fierce battle cries that echoed throughout the valley. They rushed forth and collided directly into the hoard. Orcs, generally being slow and dumb, but with great strength, seemed to fall quickly to the agile Mithra fighters, backed by the near giant sized Galka, who were eliminating groups of Orcs at a time with their large scythes, great swords and axes.

A Galka swung his great axe at a group of oncoming Orcs, who wielded their own smaller axes. The great Galka swung in one swift motion, sending black Orcish blood spraying into the night as they fell with horrifying grunts of pain. From somewhere behind the lines two arrows zipped by, a third connecting and digging into the Galka's shoulder. With a grunt of pain the Galka continued on, heaving down Orc after Orc in a series of wrathful strikes and slashes. Two more arrows penetrated his thick, grey skin, soaked with sweat and the blood of his enemies and his own, this time in the arm and chest. His great axe fell from his wounded arm, streamed with blood. Still the Galka fought on, using the brute force of his fists to break the face of any Orc in his path. Another arrow struck, this time in the back. The Galka roared with pain and fought on. Another arrow, and another. Blood soaked the brave Galkan warrior. He sent one last punch at the nearest Orc, sending it flying into it's companions, then fell to his knees. With one last look at the stars in the sky he said a silent prayer to the goddess Altana and fell to the ground, dead.

An Elvaan paladin dived through the gates towards the oncoming lines of Orcs. Pale moonlight reflected off of his pure white armor. He brandished his red shield and long sword as he dove into the fray. Swinging his blade wildly- yet with precision and skill- he cut through the mob, unconsciously blocking every attack aimed at him with his shield. Arrows rained down towards him, instantly wounding the unknown companions around him, yet they simply snapped upon connection with his strong armor. The paladin fought on, sweat matting his blond hair to his face. He looked to his right and saw a young Hume, clearly inexperienced and frightened, laying on the ground, sword shattered on the ground next to him and shield in the same state. An Orc stood not far from him, bow raised, and unleashed an arrow aimed for an execution. The Elvaan paladin dived in just in time to intercept the arrow, which connected to his chest and dug past his weaker chest armor, burrowing into his skin. The Elvaan gritted his teeth and dived at the Orc, digging his sword into the Orc's throat and twisting it as it howled in pain. The paladin withdrew his blade, staggering, and fell to the ground. He had done his job.

A Mithra in black, spiked armor jumped into the mob, great sword raised above her head. She slammed down the sword onto the nearest Orc, splitting it's face with dark reddish black blood. Windurstian steel laced through the mobs. With every stroke she seemed to gain more and more enthusiasm and strength. Her sword craved blood, and it was time to satisfy that hunger. She spun around with her blade outstretched, slicing through the Orcs in a radial area. She laughed insanely, stopping her Orc massacre only to throw bursts of fire and lightning onto the mob before beginning her rampage again, swinging the giant sword with the speed of a dagger. Orcs slashed at her, cutting through her weak armor and ripping at her skin, yet in the fury of the battle she hardly took any notice. Her blade sliced through over and over again, sending blood spraying into the night sky, cuts and wounds of her own piling on. Eventually her strength seemed to fail. She fell to one knee, trying to hold herself up with her sword, and panted exhaustingly. She looked at her hands, covered in her own blood more than her opponents. She waited. Waited for death to finally take her.

A Hume girl in white robes, hood over her head, brushed past the fighters and into the battle field. She carried no weapon other than a hammer- little use against an Orc, but better than her fists. Her eyes grazed the battle field, searching for the wounded. Somewhere off to her left a wounded ninja rose from her knees and charged at her enemies. She was beyond healing and knew it. The ninja threw shurikens off in all directions as Orcs roared in rage, turning to chase her. The ninja turned around and let off a laugh- the laugh of the damned. The white mage looked away as an explosion ripped through the sounds of battle as Orcs pieces scattered through the area. Mijin Gakure... sometimes the choices of the soldiers were beyond the healing of a white mage. Her eyes spotted someone who did have a chance- a Mithra in black armor- and she sprinted towards the demi-human. The Mithra glanced up at her, then lowered her head and coughed blood. Praying to the goddess that it wasn't too late, the Hume placed her hands on the Mithra and closed her eyes. Divine light embraced the Mithra, and her wounds began to close themselves, causing the Mithra to gasp at this sensation. The Mithra smiled at the Hume white mage, and picked up her sword and charged back into battle. Suddenly a shadow loomed over the Hume, who turned around in fear to see an Orc raising it's axe over it's head, preparing for a deadly blow. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, awaiting death. But when death did not come, she opened her eyes in surprise as the Orc wailed in pain as it was engulfed in flames. A sword blade pierced through it's chest, then withdrew as the Orc fell towards her. She side stepped out of the way to see her savior- a three foot tall Tarutaru red mage. The Tarutaru grinned at her and moved on.

Finally, some action! The girl's tail started to sway back and forth quicker with interest. From what she could see from the balcony, the battle seemed to be going their way. Just as that thought began to crawl into her brain, they came. Giant dragon-like beasts with tough purplish hides, a thick, black mane running down their lumped spines, great hooves that could crush even a Galka were latched onto four thick legs, and an ugly wolf-like head with horns protruding from their foreheads. Their teeth were like blades, and their pupil less eyes seemed to glow with a menacing light beneath the twilight. They rushed towards the city, crushing both friend and foe without a glance back. Immediately the dragoons who waited on the city walls dived into the air with their polearms and spears pointed directly down. Seconds later they fell from the sky like lightning onto these behemoths, two to four landing on the backs of their enemy, driving their spear heads deep into the behemoth hides. All but one fell to the dragoon rain in a roar of pain and anger. The last one continued its charge towards the city wall. Right before it seemed it would plow straight through, it rose up onto its hind legs and plowed down the wall, completely leveling it and the unsuspecting group of rangers who were sniping from it. The demon rushed on through the city, taking arrow after arrow, shattering blades attempting to cut through its hide. It continued a reign of terror through the city, destroying everything in its path until finally it was taken down in a burst of light, ice, fire and lightning all at once from a black magic assault by the Tarutaru mages.

Lines weakened by the behemoth onslaught, the Orcs ripped through and into the city, spilling into it like water to a wounded boat. The young girl watched on in horror as they began to demolish everything she knew below her. Suddenly it didn't seem so exciting. The balcony began to sway, causing her to lose her balance and with a scream of shock, fall forward. She gritted her teeth and her eyes snapped shut. Her short life flashed before her eyes, in what seemed to her like forever, she toppled over the ledge. Her eyes forced themselves to look below at the river of Orcs rushing through the city, slowly getting closer and closer. She forced her eyes shut again, preparing for death, but jerked upward and stopped mid-air. Her foot had been caught in between the balcony posts. There she hung, dangling over a swarm of destruction. "Whew..." she sighed with relief, just in time for the balcony to jerk forward again. She froze with fear and let out a scream as the balcony tore from its foundation and began to fall forward, still carrying its felinish passenger down into the swarm.

Deep inside the city walls, far from the oncoming chaos, the Elvaan had left the Hume. He had brought him into the heart of the city, a courtyard where those who were not fit to fight were kept safe. Elders, children and mothers sat and stood, huddled in groups discussing the events going on outside these walls. It was dark, save the luminance from the moon and stars above. The Elvaan had instructed him to find his parents, but he had little hope of that, considering he hadn't seen them for seven years, unable to remember even their faces. Maybe I should have mentioned that to him... too late to worry about it now I guess... Since then he'd been living in the orphanage, where he had met the only few friends he had- but they were nowhere to be found. He thought about where they might be, sitting down against the wall- alone. A chilling silence swept across the crowd. Ignorant children attempting to play were quickly silenced by their parents. With a sigh he gazed up into the night sky, counting the stars in the heavens above, indifferent to everything around him.

Deep off into the distance a low rumbling sound crept out of the silence, steadily growing louder and louder. The faces of the people were frozen in fear. The rumbling intensified. One little Tarutaru girl cried in fear and clutched to her mother's dress, and soon the panic spread through everyone. The Hume boy continued to sit there, eyes fixed on the night, his mind in another place. All at once the noise exploded into screams of terror and the sounds of destruction growing nearer and nearer. His eyes unfixed themselves, he quickly shot up and backed away from the wall. It was vibrating madly now. He turned around, teeth clenched and eyes full of suspense, staring intensely at the oncoming danger. Brushing all fear aside he began to sprint through the crowd, down the street in panic and fear. Something inside of him made him stop. He turned around just in time to see it. The walls exploded in a cloud of dust and debris as the Orcs pounded into the courtyard. The swarm rushed in towards him. The Hume boy's mind felt frozen, he didn't know what to do, where to turn. He'd always felt lost and somewhat hopeless, and was feeling it now even more than ever. He threw up his arms and shut tight his eyes in an attempt to shield himself from impending doom. Just as he felt it was the end, a rough hand grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into a passageway to safety.

The boy fell to the ground when the hand released him, he glanced back to watch the hoard of Orcs rushing past them, paying no heed to the escapees. "Come on." The Hume looked up and saw the same Elvaan who had taken him inside before standing above him, hand outstretched. The young Hume grabbed the Elvaan's hand, who pulled him to his feet. Exhausted from shock, he leaned back against the wall and mumbled, "Thanks..."

"Let's go." Was all the Elvaan said as he began to walk down the corridor, motioning towards him to follow.

As the two walked further through the passageway the Elvaan spoke to the Hume again, "What is your name, boy?" The Hume remained silent, his mind was spinning through other matters. When he didn't answer the Elvaan spoke up, "Well, they call me Edgah, and I suggest you do too."

"Ithil," the Hume mumbled. Edgah stopped, turned around and looked him in the eyes. His eyes were gray and strong, looking as if they would stare into your soul.

Edgah spoke to him in the lost Elvaan language, "Jour teh nub, elozl." With that he turned around and continued to lead Ithil through the passageway, leaving him wondering at what those Elvaan words meant.

Minutes of unknown silence passed until they reached the end. A large wall blocked their path, though near the top there was a large crack where the twilight flowed through. "You go first." Edgah said, starring out through the crack into the night.

THUD!

An axe dug itself into the wall just inches from Edgahs face. Ignoring this, the Elvaan gave him a boost and Ithil climbed through the crack, the cool air of the night blessing his tired face. Ithil stood out there, waiting for the Elvaan.

"Go!" His voice shouted from inside, followed by sounds of Orcish grunts and the chink of blades. Edgah let out an Elvaan battle cry, withdrew his spear and charged towards the oncoming Orcs. Inside the sound of battle ensued, remembering the command of the Elvaan he began to turn around to run away, but was stopped by the peculiar sound of rocks crumbling. He looked back and saw the wall where the crack had been begin to crumble, and then collapsed in... silence.

Ithil began to run, trying to escape the horrors of this night. He ran until he collapsed onto the grass. Ithil raised his head from the soft grass and gazed wearily at the ruins of the city under the moonlight. Towers had fallen, smoke rose into the night from all over. All was quiet. Before, Ithil was just following where ever the path of time would take him, riding out the days events without a care. The events of the night were just starting to sink into his mind, weakening him. He began to think of everyone who had helped him back there, everyone he knew and cared about... could they all be gone? NO! I can't sit here and mourn... there's no use in tears... Ithil stood up and began to trudge away from the city; holding back the tears until the pain disappeared. He walked aimlessly from the city in a daze. Weakened- both mentally and physically.

After walking until he felt too tired to move another muscle, he gazed out over the hills at the full moon that loomed halfway over the horizon. There was someone silhouetted against the moon. He tried to focus his eyes on it... too dazed... too tired. By now he wasn't even sure if he was awake or dreaming. Something was running towards him. Slipping into a dream..? It collided with him and wrapped its arms around him. He lifted his head, eyes meeting two cat-like eyes starring back at him. ..Her..? Ithil blinked, his mind shutting down, and he fell forward into her, knocking them both into the grass. Smoke continued to rise from the distant city until the moon set and the stars vanished.

He woke sprawled on his back in the grass to a city in ruin. The Mithran girl lay sleeping, curled up in a ball like a cat, next to him. Nettin. The sun shone overhead, birds sang softly in the distance. Such a humble life... gone in the blink of an eye... he knew as he stared at the sky so blue that his world would never be the same again.