Notes: Told you this one would come out quicker! Had fun with this chapter... hehe
Vana'diel: Crystal of Darkness
Chapter VIII: Dark Dreams and Odin's Wrath
Thunder cracked and lightning flashed outside the windows of the local inn. Outside the rain poured down in a dense sheet of freezing rain. It was a strong contrast to the warm glow of the common room fires, and the sounds of a harp ringing among the unruly sounds of laughter of merrymaking. The common room was packed full tonight. Adventurers of all types and from all corners of Vana'diel gathered in the common room, swapping stories and battle techniques and bragging of their fame and status. The only inn between Selbina and Bastok was packed with every adventurer who didn't want to spend the night in the pouring rain.
Ithilsul and Epsil sat at a table near the corner sipping their mugs of ale and watching the entertainment. Nettin joined them at their table. The men didn't seem to notice. She waved her hand in front of their faces. No response. The Mithra looked at the stage and frowned. "Men." She grumbled as she got up and stalked off towards the baths. In fact, the eyes of most of the occupants were drawn to the stage, but not for the heavenly music. A Mithra with long, white hair and a harp (and not much else) danced and moved her body to her music, giving suggestive winks and flutters of her lashes at whoever dared to meet her gaze. At a table near the stage a Hume woman looked at her lover angrily, and in the process of getting up to leave she knocked his mug of ale into his lap (although even this scene didn't draw eyes away from the stage for very long). Finally the Mithra stopped for an intermission, and as if the hypnotist snapped her fingers, Ithil and Epsil were suddenly aware of the Galka walking towards them.
"Uh oh, look who it is." Ithil said under his breath to Epsil, nudging his head towards the approaching Galka. Epsil frowned.
"Hello! Remember me?" The Galkan warrior grinned at them from behind his goatee.
"Yes." Epsil narrowed his eyes at the Galka.
"I would just like to apologize for my behavior earlier. Long journeys can have... effects on people. My name is Gaishin. Can I join you?"
"Alright." Epsil said after studying Gaishin's face. Perhaps irritations from the road could in fact have caused such a dramatic transition. The Tarutaru was quick to being polite- but not as fast to trust.
"Waitress, bring my friends here," He looked at the pair, who gave their names, "another round of ale." Gaishin grinned at Ithil and Epsil.
"I don't know... I'm not too big on ale and we should probably head out early tomorrow..." Ithil began.
"Nonsense, live a little!" The Galka slapped Ithil on the back, causing him to choke a bit on his ale. The Galka let out a hearty laugh as fresh mugs were brought out.
Gaishin questioned the travelers about their experiences, where they planned to go, where they came from; and the ale kept coming. Ithil was vaguely aware of listening to the Galka speak of great skirmishes at Ghelsba Outpost, and Yhaotor Jungle as he sipped his ale- suddenly finding himself staring at the clear glass bottom of the mug. The Galka motioned to the waitress to bring more, grinning heartily at Ithil. Gaishin mentioned wild tales of a Tonberry king, of Warchief Vatgit, of Goblins and trade. The young Hume nodded along, not really paying attention (his eyes drifted back to the Mithran bard performing onstage again), when one question directed at him brought him back to attention.
"Huh? My what?" Ithil hiccuped.
"Ithy... I respe- uh... respac- respect you." Epsil patted Ithil on the shoulder before falling out of his chair.
"That necklace you've got there."
Suddenly Ithil was aware that his black jeweled necklace wasn't tucked into his doublet anymore. Why did that matter again? "This thing? What about it?" He fingered the necklace. Necklace. Thats a fun word. Almost two but... one... hehe.
"It is an interesting item, where did you obtain something so... unique?"
"I've had this thing since... since... umm... as long as I can remember. Had it since back in the orphanage with Epsy here," He patted Epsil on the back, who was still immersed in the wiggling Mithra, "and Net, wherever that crazy girl ran off too. I don't know what this thing is, but I've always had it... since... umm... a... long time." Ithilsul chuckled drunkenly.
"A strange piece... would you trust me to see it for a second?" The Galka reached out hungrily, and Ithilsul lifted the gem piece without a thought to let him touch it.
"Is this... a crystal piece..?" Gaishin said mainly to himself.
"Hmm? Could be, maybe just a rock, haha."
"Who did you say you were going to meet up with? A Mithra in Jeuno?"
"Yep, think she was all the way in Ronfaure last I heard. Sometimes I think she's crazy... always beating on me and stuff and taking some kinda pleasure from it. Crazy Mithras, seems all of them are." Ithil found himself wishing there was more ale, although he was starting to feel sleepy.
The Galka seemed lost in thought while Ithil rambled on about Mithras. Epsil had his face on the table, snoring. Ithil's eyes drifted back to the stage while he talked, and when he finished he looked back to see that Gaishin had left. "Never thanked him for the drinks." Ithilsul hiccuped again. The Hume climbed out of his seat. Why did everything get skewed and blurry? He thought of a nice warm bath to relax after dragging through the barren Gustaberg, falling down a waterfall and trekking through the Highlands without a single rest. Ithil found himself walking- quite unsteadily- towards the baths.
Ithil pushed open the first door leading to three more, each leading to a separate bath room. He choose the middle and pushed it open, entering the steam filled room. The drunken Hume blinked and tried to see through the mist. Suddenly the steam cleared a little, and he saw a startled face staring back at him with a mix of rage and embarrassment. Ithil's eyes widened as he realized who he was looking at.
"GET OUT!!!" The Mithra covered herself with her left arm and snatched up a bar of soap, and hurled it at the Hume.
FWAP!
Ithil staggered back, dazed from the projectile soap attack that maimed him right between his eyes, and fell backwards through the door. "Silly Mithras." He chuckled while laying flat on the floor. Why was that so funny? He pulled himself up and decided just to head upstairs and get some sleep. It had been a long night.
Ithil staggered upstairs to their room on the far side of the hall. It was small and cramped with two beds that filled most of the room. They requested three, but even two beds weren't guaranteed with the overflow of people tonight. Lightning flashed outside the window as the distant sound of thunder rumbled across the town. He didn't bother lighting the room and only pulled off his doublet before he flopped down on the closest bed, and within minutes sleep swept over him.
It was dark. Everywhere. Nothing. Emptiness. He stood there in the darkness. There was not the faintest trace of light, yet he could see his hand in front of his face as clear as day. Naked and alone in the darkness. The Hume looked frantically around until something caught the corner of his eye. Hovering ahead and not far off was something... like a window in the darkness looking into another world. He could see people... strange black cloaked people, three of them their faces hidden beneath their cloaks, the other's face could not be distinguished in the shadows. A dark figure stood before them. Out of the silence a voice spoke, as if far off yet close at the same time.
"The last piece is found. It will not be long until they rise again." A Galka with his cloak hood down said. Suddenly Ithil noticed a dark figure glistening behind them. The Galka grinned with satisfaction as the light hit his face. The Hume gasped, recognizing that wry smile behind a goatee.
"And the scroll?" The dark figure standing in front of the cloaked ones turned his head to the tallest of the cloaked five.
"It... has not yet been recovered, my lord." The voice from the taller one said after a period of hesitation.
"Trusting a Yagudo to do a mans job, fool." The dark one scoffed.
"It will be recovered, my lord. Two new agents seek the Mithra and Elvaan. They wont get far- airship or no."
"Failures will not be tolerated, Senheru. Do not fail me. Ever." The dark figure then addressed the Galka once more, "Step carefully, and take an example from this fool Elvaan."
Suddenly a dark flame erupted onto the cloaked Elvaan, bursting from his every pore. Screams echoed through the emptiness that seemed to rip into Ithil's ears and whirlpool through his mind. The Elvaan was on all fours now, still aflame and still screaming. The black flame bursted in a fiery fury, spewing from the window through the fabric of space and engulfing Ithil, who's screams mimicked the Elvaan's. Then all was quiet and empty once again. The Hume was down on all fours, panting with shock at the faint memory of pain beyond sufferable existence. He pried open his eyes and...
He stood in the middle of a vast desert. The sun beat down upon the rolling mounds of sand, causing the air to distort with shimmers of heat. There was no sign of any type of life. The clouds in the blue sky stood still as if frozen in time. Ithil staggered up, and found he was now dressed fully armored. A black and white surcoat was now set upon his body, with matching gauntlets and leggings and boots. A great sword was strapped to his back, his own it seemed. It was good to have something familiar here. Ithilsul turned around, gazing at the strange desert surrounding him. Nothing. Devoid of all life... of existence?
He turned again and suddenly found the sky black. The silence roared. All around him the sand seemed to bulge in several places, and scythe-like clawed hands ripped from the sand, tearing at the earth and digging their way out until a pincered head appeared. Ithil jumped, his head whipping around in a panic. He gritted his teeth. They pulled themselves up out of the sand, revealing giant exoskeleton bodies standing tall and half again as the Hume. They looked much like giant ants that walked upright. Anticans. They carried scythes or curved swords, ready for murder. The Anticans closed in on Ithil, who tried to step back, only to find more behind him. They were everywhere. Ithil's panic grew. He was surrounded. Trapped. Before he knew it he was on his back with pincers snapping above him. All was eerily silent. He could hear his own heartbeat throbbing in his chest, hear every gasp for air.
Suddenly something changed. He wasn't sure what... but something seemed to spark inside of him. Something deep and dark within his soul. No more. Ithil was standing, his face grim and set in stone, his head lowered, hair hiding his eyes. The darkness seemed to grow as he lifted his face, revealing cold pupilless eyes that seemed to glow with an menacing blue light. He smirked.
Ithil thrust out a hand and a blinding light flared around him, before the Anticans had time to realize what was going on his sword was out. Smoothly and lightning fast he danced among the Antican soldiers, slicing through them with a deadly grace, never slowing and laughing menacingly the entire time. It felt so good, so freeing, so... right. It was like a drug, he needed more. The thirst to kill. As the light faded nothing was left standing. "AHAHAHAHAHA!"
More exoskeletal hands tore through the sand, and more Anticans arose. But that wasn't all. Great scorpions arose from the sand. Hundreds of arachnid beastmen rushed towards the laughing Hume. Again and again he danced through them, slicing and slashing, wasting no movement. Suddenly in the midst of his slaughter he stopped. The beastmen hesitated, clearly surprised at this sudden change, but only for a second as they all dived onto him at once. Among the clicks and chitters of beastmen exoskeletons hitting together a menacing laugh arose. In an instant every beastmen flew apart in an explosion of arachnid limbs as Ithil swung his sword around in an upward spiral. Yet more arose from the ground. They came and he killed. Black beastmen blood watered the thirst of the sand, and dripped from his face and armor. He split an Antican through the head and turned to kill the next one without thought. He dived at the Antican, and his face distorted in fear. It wasn't an Antican anymore, it was... a Mithra. It was... Nettin. It was too late to stop. His blade continued towards her and...
Ithil jerked awake with a scream of horror. He was covered in a cold sweat, shivering with terror. He turned towards the window. Lightning still flickered outside. Rain still poured down, though not as hard as before. He half expected to see stretches of sand and... He felt his face; no blood. Ithil shivered, thinking about the last part of that dream and looked towards the other bed. Nettin was curled up and sleeping soundly, to his relief. His head throbbed. "What was that all about?" He mumbled, running his hand through his hair. Epsil was nowhere to be found. Probably still passed out at that table. What had happened? He remembered drinking- a lot, and someone asking him questions and then he got up and... Ithil blushed and shook his head as if to scramble the thought. Head... wont stop... pounding. He fell back against his pillow. Thinking hurt. But what was that thing before the desert? Too painful. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.
When Nettin's eyes cracked open it was daylight outside, though hardly noticeable through the storming clouds still casting it's blanket over the sky. The rain had dissipated down to a trickle. She looked at Ithil sprawled out and asleep on his bed and grumbled, "Men." At least he was well passed out, and probably will be for a while judging by all the empty mugs left at his table. She groggily rolled out of bed and dressed, snatched a book from her backpack, then snuck out of the room and headed back to the common room.
It was early and for the most part, empty, save for an Elvaan couple eating breakfast. No entertainment this morning, she was glad to see. Epsil was asleep atop of his table. It looked as if the staff didn't even bother trying to wake him and just cleaned around him. She sat down and ordered breakfast, reading as she ate. She looked from her empty plate to Epsil and grinned. Saving her place in the book, she took the remaining apple from the plate and slid the plate under Epsil, then stuffed the apple into his mouth. The Mithra picked up her utensils and poked the Tarutaru with a fork.
Epsil was in paradise. He leaped through meadows where the flowers were pedaled with Gil, and Gil rained from the sky into his pockets, and more Gil came from- He jerked awake and met a disturbing site. A Mithra eyed him hungrily, rubbing a knife and fork together and licking her lips. Epsil tried to scream but he was gagged by what tasted like an... apple? The Tarutaru leaped up and bite the apple off, glaring at Nettin, who giggled with laughter. Epsil plopped down on the table and continued munching the apple hungrily.
"Wah, my head is spinning round and round and round and round." The Tarutaru said. He looked up from his apple. "Have I been here all night?"
"Thats what happens when you're PLASTERED." She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Hangover-vover." Epsil moaned. He concentrated, trying to ignore the throbbing headache, and a poof of light rained onto him, and the hangover was gone. "Better!"
It was noon by the time Ithil woke up. He stumbled down the stairs and brushed past Epsil and Nettin and headed straight for the baths. Maybe that'll get rid of this throbbing headache. He was relieved to see no one was in here this time. No soap projectiles. While he soaked his headache began to disappear, and he was able to think clearly again. Memories began to drift back as he recalled the night before. That Galka... the dream... Just a dream... right? Too much ale, thats what. Nothing more. But what about the rest? The desert? The ecstasy of the fighting. What was I wearing? Dressed like a... paladin, was it? But different... darker. Deadlier. Almost evil. Dreams. Too confusing.
Several minutes later Ithil pushed open the door and walked out, blinded by the steam. Suddenly a fist parted the haze and collided with his face, he fell backwards with a grunt. Nettin stood over him. "Okay, we're even." She turned around and started to walk off, then turned her head back. "For now."
They left the inn with considerably lighter purses, grumbling about extra hidden fees. The chocobo stables were at the northern exit. They walked through the muddy streets with cloaks held close to keep out the cold. A calm drizzle rained down from the sky, but to the north hinted more turbulence. They had no choice but to head right into it, and didn't want to be stuck on foot.
The stables were warm, the adventurers were relieved to find, but looked pretty empty. Five chocobos were left, and they weren't cheap to rent they found our upon asking the Elvaan stablewoman. 1000g each. Epsil flinched upon hearing that price. It was just too much. The trio walked back out into the rain with sullen faces.
"Okay, lets get those chocobos!" Nettin said as soon as they were outside.
"I'd take my chances on the sheep again. 3000g? Pfft, maybe if we could buy those chickenbos for that much." Epsil frowned.
"Eppy, get back in there and dance around in front of her and we'll take care of the rest." Ithil blinked and stared quizzically at Nettin, who grinned in return.
Ithil shrugged. "Might as well."
Epsil dashed back in and instantly began to flail his arms and legs in what appeared to be some kind of dance. The Elvaan woman was easily distracted by it and began giggling. Meanwhile Nettin snuck back to the stables, pulling Ithil by the arm. She began to untie a small one, then a larger one after that, motioning for Ithil to do that same. They hopped onto the saddles. Nettin gave a whip of the reins, and the chocobo leapt over the stable gate and took off outside, Ithil followed right after. "HEY! Get back here!" The Elvaan yelled after them, trying to chase them. Epsil broke away and hopped onto the smaller chocobo and dashed after them.
The trio easy left the Elvaan in the dust, and within seconds they were speeding away from Milltown, finally. "Next stop is the Valkurm Dunes... I think!" Ithil shouted at the others through the increasing rain.
"Nuh!" Epsil shouted cheerfully.
Ithilsul ignored the Tarutaru and frowned. He was supposed to go northwest at that big white structure- a Crag that Galka said it was. That Galka... Ithil shook it from his thoughts. More important things to worry about now. The Crag was nowhere to be seen in the heavy screen of rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Their chocobos splashed through the muddy road, running almost blindly through the rain. Odin's Wrath came out in full force, whipping their cloaks back and nearly ripping them off in the gale winds. The clouds were nearly black now, and lightning ripped across them. They were completely blinded by the rain. They carried on anyway. There was no point in stopping in the middle of the storm.
For over an hour their chocobos were led blindly through the storm, which was now pouring down in a relentless flood of freezing rain. No doubt about it, they were lost. But then the rain started to stop, the clouds began to part, and there they saw it. The Crag loomed over them, shining like a white castle in it's glory. What appeared to be a spine ran through it and vanished behind the hills on either side. They halted their chocobos and watched with soaked smiles as a rainbow formed above the Crag against the clearing blue sky.
"There!" Epsil pointed to the base of the Crag, where a stairway lead up to a small platform with a large blue crystal revolving over it. The others shrugged and followed him up, too cold and too wet to worry about what the white mage might have in mind. The Tarutaru hopped off of his chocobo, which took off back towards town immediately after. The others followed suit with confused looks at each other. They followed Epsil up the stairs and to the circle.
"Hold onto your Gil!" Epsil began casting a spell, and in a few seconds the trio vanished in a swirl of magic.