Chapter 5
Monk
Sigma's Note: After much consideration, I decided to abandon my pathetic attempt at a European-esque Bangaa language. I am still fond of the idea, but I find that I can't conveye it with particular clarity. Also, I changed the Guardians to their proper names, Defenders. Enjoy!
Black Monk (x3 Dragoon)
(x4 Templar)-Expert Job requiring full control of all senses and the ability to focus one's mind on a single point in space to achieve 1-hit KOs
Weapon: Katana (Petal Chaser)
A-Ability: Lost Skill
-Death Strike: Katana thrust that skewers for instant KO
-Gravity Wall: Prevents all damage to target for 3 turns
-Black Skill 1: Secret Ninjitsu that creates multiple images of the attacker to
lower defense
-Black Skill 2: Secret Ninjitsu attack that defies gravity
-Black Skill 3: Secret Ninjitsu attack that strikes instantly for KO
-Black Skill 0: Secret Ninjitsu attack in which the Katana and wielder become one
-Dark Quake: Deals Dark Line damage in four cardinal directions
-Banish: Dooms
A-Ability: High Chakra
-Acupuncture: Recovers and increases Weapon Attack
-Teleport: Movement range doubles
-Spirit Break: Reduces random stat of random enemy
-Spirit Charge: Increases random stat for random team mate
-Life Bond: Sacrifices next turn to add user's stats to team mate
R-Ability: Foresight:
-Evade and Knock Back
S-Ability: Meditate
-Increases stats each time Wait command is selected
C-Ability: Lost Combo
-Ranged combo for Black Monks
Lawcasta.......
"It was a total failure," Marche said, holding a large icepack against his throbbing forehead. "We had two missions. To find our clan and get the Grimoire. Well, out Clan is dead, with the possible exeption of Monteblanc, and now Archemis has the Grimoire." Strife was sitting across from him, holding a glass of Marlboro wine. It had been a day since Ritz and Marche had stormed Jagd Dorsa in an attempt to retrieve the Gran Grimoire. Now they were back at Bervenia, nursing their wounds and trying to regroup after several failures in a inconvenient row.
"We're stuck here and we have no one to help us stop Archemis from getting away with whatever he's trying to do," Ritz concluded. She too was injured from combat, though not to the same extent as Marche, seeing as he had been dead for several minutes during the mission.
"Surely there must be some warriors in Ivalice that could complement your skills," Strife said hopefully. Marche shook his head.
"Our Clan was the ultimate fighting force. We didn't call it Ultima for no reason afterall. Any one of them was a lethal combat unit. Together, our power was pretty close to absolute," he said. This was no exaggeration. Clan Ultima had single-handedly saved Ivalice many times before.
"Apparently, they weren't as invincible as you had thought," Strife said. Marche clenched his fist.
"Listen, Strife. Some of the best friends we've ever had are dead, we're trapped in a totally different dimension from our home, and to top it off, I have a throbbing, screaming headache stemming from the fact that I took an Ultima Shot to the chest two days ago. I am pissed, and I don't need you putting down out Clan right now," he said in a burst of irate anger. He slouched back in the chair and sighed deeply.
Nobody spoke for several minutes, until Strife rose from his seat, his long crimson cloak ruffling as he stood.
"There may be a solution," he said calmly. "I believe I know of a person who may be off assistance." Marche opened one eye and looked at Strife dubiously. Ritz's attention was also piqued.
"Who?" she asked.
"There is a person up north. A Bangaa monk by the name of Ivan. He's walled up in a monastery beyond Lutia, close to the boarder of Archemis's territory."
"What's so special about him?" Marche asked.
"He used to be part of Archemis's army."
Somewhere in the Northern Regions.......
Sagaro kneeled before Archemis's tall throne. It stood like a tall edifice in the center of the darkened chamber. Torches on the walls provided meager illumination in the windowless room.
"You have retrieved the Book, I see," said a voice from the darkness.
"Yes, lord Archemis," the Ninja said, removed the large tome from his satchel.
"Most excellent."
"Sir, I also have news on the movements of the Skarcastor and the Soulvetar," Sagaro said, referring to Ritz and Marche. "It appears that they are heading towards a monastery north of Lutia Pass. It is possible that they are attempting to recruit the Black Monk."
"Ivan? They will never convince him to join their fight," Archemis said, laughing softly.
"Indeed Lord Archemis. But it gets stranger still."
"How so?"
"It appears that Simon the Hellbringer has already dispatched himself to confront them."
"What? Without my orders?"
"Indeed, lord Archemis. He says that one of his prophecies became Absolute."
"I do not have time for Nu Mou superstition. Simon cannot be allowed to act outside of orders again. I want you to stop him by any means necessary. Including lethal force."
"As you wish, lord Archemis."
Days later.......
Marche and Ritz stood before the gates of the gargantuan monastery. It stood in the bleak, blustery Lutian tundra like it had fallen from the sky. The monastery was surrounded by 100 foot walls with spires at its numerous corners. It was thoroughly impenetrable by conventional means.
As they stared up at the vertigo inducing gate, a small porthole in the top popped open. A Bangaa's head appeared in view of Ritz and Marche. It wore the bizarre, vision obscuring helmet of a Defender.
"What do you want?" it asked with a distinctly Bangaa accent, and a rather irate one at that. Marche cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled his response to the door keeper.
"We were sent here from the Ivalician Judiciary to find someone. Is there a-" but he was cut off by the Defender.
"Politicsss have no place on holy ground. Now go away!" he snapped, slamming the window shut. Ritz and Marche stood confused for a moment. Then, Marche banged on the thick metal gate hard. The sound reverberated through the walls, and soon after the port hole was reopened. The Defender appeared again.
"You again! I told you, you have no busssinesss at Sssaint Tariusss of the Fallen Moon . Leave at once!"
"We need to speak to Ivan Eranov!" Marche yelled, but not before the Defender closed the port hole once more. It was beginning to try his patience. Before he could do anything rash, though, Ritz stopped him.
"Let me handle this. I've spent enough time around the Viera to know how to deal with Spiritual people, evidently better than you can," she said, as she rapped on the gate again. The Port hole immediately swung open
"What?" he asked, clearly very angry this time. Ritz called up to him in a more calmed voice.
"I apologize for my friend. We wish to pay our respects to this Holy Place and to Saint Tarius. We seek to speak with Ivan Eranov as regards your beliefs," she said. The Defender looked down at them briefly, likely trying to decide if Ritz was being sincere or not.
"Very well," he said as he once more disappeared into the wall. Seconds later, the howling sound of gears grinding echoed through the metal walls as they slowly creaked open, revealing the inner sanctum of the Monastery. On the other side, a White Monk holding a long, metal staff greeted them.
"Welcome, friendsss, to the Monassstary of Sssaint Tariusss of the Fallen Moon."
While from the outside the Monastery looked like an impenetrable fortress of solid steel, the inside was an entirely different world. As it happened, the great walls that encompassed it were just that: walls. Inside was an expansive paradise. Plants and trees of a dozen varieties populated the court of the Monastery, as explosion of colorful Cherry Blossoms burst forth from almost every possible location. The sheer volume of Cherry Blossom flowers created an almost constant, gentle rain of pink petals, like a sort of ever present rose snowfall.
Bangaa Monks and Defenders walked leisurely around the green landscape that stood in stark contrast to the unforgiving Lutia wilderness. The accented chatter of the Bangaa filled the air with thoughts of poetry, philosophy and prayer. In the center of the Monastery, a large group of White Monks organized themselves into a long rows as they lept through the air in unison, striking the air with their finely honed martial arts. In the background, Ritz and Marche could clearly hear the gentle trickle of water flowing through the gardens of the Monastery. It was remarkable.
"What is this place?" Ritz asked in wonderment. The Monk chuckled to himself.
"It isss the gift left to thisss world by Ssssaint Tariusss," he said proudly.
"How is it possible?" Marche asked.
"You do not know of the deedsss of Sssaint Tariusss?" responded the Monk. Marche and Ritz shook their heads.
"We uh, came here to speak with Ivan Eranov. We seek to, uh, learn from him," Marche said, aprehensibly. He was not as good at expressing spiritual reverence as Ritz, who had spent much of her time in Ivalice with the Viera, a natural spiritual people. The Monk seemed to accept this.
"Valk thisss way, and I will tell you of Sssaint Tariusss."
They path they took brought them through a lush garden. Monks and Bishops tended the carefully grown flora with near artistic effort, crafting works of natural art of stunning glory. As the three crossed an arched stone bridge, Marche looked down to see multi colored Kois swimming lazily through the crystal clean water below.
"Sssaint Tariusss wasss a Evangariusss. It isss a Bangaa word that I ssssupossse would transsslate asss Godsssend in the Human language. We believe that he was sssent from thee heavensss to protect the world.
"Our ssscripturesss tell of hisss exploitsss. But hisss greatessst deed was that he sssaved the world from ultimte dessstruction."
"How did he do that?" Marche asked.
"He fought the ssserventsss of Vandal, the Devil King. He wasss sssuccesssful, but Vandal was infuriated by defeat. Ssso, he decided to dessstroy all life in Ivalice by causssing the Moon to fall from the heavensss. It would have broken the world in two, had not Sssaint Tariusss acted. He lept into the sssky to meet the falling moon, and drew hisss sssword. Finally, before it could strike, he cut the moon into a thousssand piecesss. He then hurled them back into the sssky, where it vas reborn by God, but he kept one piece. That one piece wasss planted in the earth where this Monassstery sssitsss. From that piece, all magic in the world wasss born."
"And it is that piece of the moon that protects this Monastery from the elements," Ritz said. The Monk nodded.
Finally, the three arrived at one of the far corners of Monastery. There was a large metal door with a golden cross carved into it.
"Brother Ivan liesss beyond the door. He hasss requesssted to be left alone by the brotherhood, but I'm sssure he would welcome a pair of Pilgrimsss into hisss quartersss." With that, the Monk bowed his head and walked away. Marche looked at Ritz, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.
At the gate......
A typically short, stout Nu Mou Alchemist stood at the base of the entrance to the Monastery. He rapped briskly on the massive gate with his gnarled Scorpion Tail mace. The Defender that had greeted Marche and Ritz responed.
"What?" he shouted. The Alchemist raised his Scorpion Tail to shield his eyes from the blinding sun of the unforgiving Winter sky.
"I have come pay my respects to Saint Tarius," he said. The Bangaa laughed.
"We do not welcome your ssscience into thessse Holy Walls. You only ssseek to dissscredit the miraclesss of Sssaint Tarius!" The Alchemist smiled to himself as he responded.
"That may be true. But did not Saint Pryor the Wanderer seek shelter from the wrath of Vandal in the home of a certain man of Science who was eventually given faith?" he said. He was well versed in the religous beliefs of many of the Races of Ivalice, including the Bangaa's convoluted faith. The Defender thought for a moment.
"May you too open your mind to the vorks of the Evangariusss," he said, as he began to open the door.
Ivan's Quarters....
The first thing that Marche and Ritz noticed upon entering the incense filled chamber was that the black cloaked Bangaa within was floating about a foot above the ground. His eyes were closed as he meditated silently, with his long Petal Chaser resting on his lap. No sooner had they entered than he addressed them. He had sensed them enter without even opening his eyes.
"Welcome, friends," he said, without any accent whatsoever. It was something of a relief for Ritz and Marche, who had trouble following the stories of the Monk, with his thick accent. "I am Ivan Eranov, the Black Monk."
"Hello, Ivan. I am Marche Radiuju and this is Ritz Malheur. We've come a long way to see you," Marche said. Ivan nodded.
"Yes, I sense much fatigue in you both. But I also sense a great urgency within. I wish that I had away for the two of you to relax, but I'm afraid my chamber is not built with hosting company in mind."
"That's quite all right. And you are correct, we do have urgent matters to discuss with you," Ritz said, sitting on the brilliant crimson rug that covered the entire floor. Slowly, Ivan descended from his levitated state, and, upon landing safely on the floor, opened his dark red eyes. He looked at both of his visitors and Marche too sat down.
"I have an idea of what you have come here for," Ivan said.
"I thought you might. I got the idea from your Gate Gaurdian that Humans do not frequent the Monastery too often. I suppose that you would thought that a pair of Armed humans from the Judiciary might not be hear just to 'show their reverence'," Marche said, eyeing Ritz as he spoke the last part. Ivan smiled lightly, revealing a pair of razor sharp fangs at the corners of his long snout.
"You want my help to fight Archemis, do you not?" Ivan said. Ritz and Marche nodded.
"Do you know of the situation in Ivalice? It's deplorable. I've seen some thing that no living being should be exposed to. All thanks to Archemis. We want to stop him, and we need you," Ritz said. Internally, she shivered as she though back to the carnage at Ambervale. Ivan sighed.
"Do you know why I abandoned Archemis?" he asked. "One day, he had us attack a village of innocents to try and draw forward the Ivalician Army into an ambush he had set up. I said that I would not consent to slaughter innocent women and children for no apparent reason. Do you know what he did? He told me I didn't have to go."
"What?" Marche asked, perplexed. Ivan nodded.
"That's right. He told me I could stay back. Stay back, and watch the town burn. I could do nothing to stop it. The screams of those people will haunt me to the day I die. After that, I left without saying a word to that Monster. I dedicated my life to trying to repent for ever calling that man 'Master'."
"But wouldn't you like to see Archemis dead? To ensure that such a tragedy would never happen again?" Ritz asked, hopefully.
"No. I have realized here that no act of Violence I commit for the sake of justice could ever repent for the Violence I committed under that man. I have abandoned that life."
"But don't you see? While you sit in the solitude of the Monastery, Archemis is advancing towards his ultimate goal. Do you know how many more innocents will die before his thirst for conquest is quenched?" Marche said.
"This isn't about penitence, Ivan. This is about saving thousands of lives," Ritz spoke. But the Black Monk had made up his mind.
"I am not a man of war any longer. This sword I hold is my last connection to my old ways, and I only hold it as a reminder of the blood that I have spilt upon the earth. I am sorry, but I cannot help you." With that, Ivan closed his eyes again and began to meditate once more. He had locked Marche and Ritz out of his mind. But as they were leaving, dejected, Ritz managed to say one final though that Ivan could not ignore."
"If Archemis wins, then all the repenting in the world won't save you or anyone else from his sword."
The two warriors re-entered the Courtyard into a scene of chaos. The once lush gardens of the Monastery had been engulfed in flames. Bangaa of all sorts ran around in a panic to try and extinguish the flames that lept up from the ground at every possible location. Many of them fell dead in their tracks while trying to help, their lives snuffed out by a fatal Death spell.
"What's going on here?" Marche exclaimed at the havoc in front of them.
"Look up there!" Ritz yelled, pointing to the eastern wall, the center of hellish melee. Standing ontop of it was an Alchemist holding his Scorpion Tail high in the air. Fierce Firaga bursts erupted around it, spreading destruction in all directions. Marche and Ritz ran over to him at full speed, drawing their weapons.
"You!" yelled the Alchemist as he saw them approaching. "You! You are the ones!" But they had no time to talk. To two of them lept at him with their weapons beared. Long before the were within striking range, though, the Nu Mou let loose a vicious Thundaga storm that sent them back to floor, their bodies paralyzed by electricity.
"You are the ones that will bring about our destruction! You are the ones that must be made no more!" With Marche and Ritz grounded by the mighty electrical attack, the Alchemist thrust his hand into the sky, releasing a bolt of red lighting. As it pieced the light cloud bank above, it turned the sky a bloody red color.
"I will remove your lives from this mortal Coil!" he cried as he slowly twirled the long mace in their air, as if stirring some invisible cauldron. As Marche and Ritz struggled to rise, they realized this could be the end for them.
"Enough!" cried a familiar voice. Suddenly, in a puff of Golden mist, Sagaro stood behind the Alchemist, his blades drawn.
"Simon the Hellbringer! By order of the Lord Archemis himself, you are to stop at once and return to Fortuna immediately! he barked. The Megalomancer turned around faced the Ninja, holding off on completing his finishing spell.
"You fool, you cannot possibly comprehend the danger that these two will bring to us if they are not completely eliminated now!" he said.
"Frankly, I don't care. You have acted without orders for the last time, Simon. You are either going to stop right now under your own will, or I will kill you," Sagaro responded. "Besides, I have fought these pitiful excuses for warriors already. They are no threat."
"If that is so, then what if the harm of me destroying them now?" Simon queried.
"I will tell you the problem. This Monastery is sitting right on top of a Magic vein. If you drop a meteor on it, you'll cause a chain reaction that will destroy half of our northern territories!" the Ninja explained.
"It is a sacrifice that we must make!"
"I think not!" Sagaro dashed at Simon, preparing to stop his spell by force. But Simon was one step ahead of him. He thrust his arm forward, unleashing his Death attack. Needless to say, Sagaro was not prepared. With a flash of eerie black light, Sagaro fell to the roof of the wall, not moving.
"The deed is done. And now, to finish what I started!" He turned to face the wounded Marche and Ritz, who, though standing, where still in an incapacitating state of shock from receiving the Thundaga head on. They look up in fear as a ball of crimson energy formed around Simon's hand that he lifted skywards, preparing to unleash his devastating Meteor attack.
"Don't move," Sagaro said. Simon whipped his head around to see the formerly dead Ninja standing erect, unharmed. An Angel ring on his left hand unleashed a thin stream of steam, it's energy spent.
"This is the end of the line, fool," he said raising his Masamunes to attack position. "Now it is time that you saw why I am called the Lightning Blade." Simon opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced by a flash of steel across the roof top. In the blink of an eye, Sagaro had moved 30 feet, drawing his Katanas through the Alchemist's gut. Simon's eyes widened as he slowly began to fall to the tile roof, but with his final vestige of strength raised the ball of energy that he still held in his palm skyward.
"Go..." he whispered.
"No!" Sagaro cried, but it was too late. Like a bullet, the final component to the Meteor strike shot into the scarlet stained sky. Immediately, Sagaro vanished in a puff of mist, his screams of fury echoing through the air as he teleported.
Slowly, a low rumbling filled the area. Marche and Ritz, unsure of what had just happened, looked up with terror filled eyes as the entire sky became dominated by a fireball plummeting towards them.
"What is that?!" Marche shouted.
"Let's get out of here!" Ritz yelled, taking his hand. They had recovered barely enough the attempt to escape. Of course, they did not here the conversation between that Megalomancers, and thus did not know that any escape would be futile. They ran for the gate that now wide open as Bangaa fled their holy place in fear of the impending destruction.
"Wait," a voice said from behind them. Ritz and Marche turned around to see Ivan standing in the middle of the court yard. He spoke to them.
"Young ones, I thank you," he said.
"What are you talking about? It's our fault that Alchemist came here in the first place! Now let's go!" Marche said. Ivan shook his head.
"There is no way to run from this, just as I have realize that I cannot run from my past. I must go through it!" he said.
"What are you-" Ritz started, but stopped as, all of a sudden, Ivan lept into the sky, directly towards the falling Meteor. They stared in awe as the Black Monk hurtled towards it, propelled by the skills of a master Dragoon. The Bangaa behind them also turned and watched. Then one of them, a Bishop, began to speak.
"And thusss, empowered by the will of God, Tariusss faced the rain of dessstruction, knowing full well that to fail would be to allow the world to fall to the Devil King. And he drew hisss sssword that sssung with the praisssesss to God and ssstruck, rending the falling moon into a thousssand piecesss." And as they spoke, the sound of a sword being unsheathed was heared over the roar of the meteor. Ivan held his Petal Chaser, the tool by which he had exterteriminated thousands of lives, and poured all of his soul into it. He attacked with such ferocity and speed that all that could be seen was the glint of a blade moving at an unbelievable speeds.
"He did it!" Ritz exclaimed.
Ivan sheathed his swords as he began to fall from his jump. Long, chasmous cracks ran down that length of the fiery meteor, fracturing it in a dozen directions. The Internal pressure of the meteor over came it in it's weakened state, and the giant rock burst into a thousand pieces, like a firework. The Bangaa below cheered their savior returned to the ground in a shower of sparkling pebbles falling harmlessly along with him. Ritz and Marche ran up to him as he set on the scorched garden.
"How did you do that?" Marche asked incredulously. "Who are you?" Ivan stood stoicly in the middle of the dying fires, looking up at the glittering hail.
"I am Ivan Eranov, the Eighth Megalomancer."
Sigma's Note: After much consideration, I decided to abandon my pathetic attempt at a European-esque Bangaa language. I am still fond of the idea, but I find that I can't conveye it with particular clarity. Also, I changed the Guardians to their proper names, Defenders. Enjoy!
Black Monk (x3 Dragoon)
(x4 Templar)-Expert Job requiring full control of all senses and the ability to focus one's mind on a single point in space to achieve 1-hit KOs
Weapon: Katana (Petal Chaser)
A-Ability: Lost Skill
-Death Strike: Katana thrust that skewers for instant KO
-Gravity Wall: Prevents all damage to target for 3 turns
-Black Skill 1: Secret Ninjitsu that creates multiple images of the attacker to
lower defense
-Black Skill 2: Secret Ninjitsu attack that defies gravity
-Black Skill 3: Secret Ninjitsu attack that strikes instantly for KO
-Black Skill 0: Secret Ninjitsu attack in which the Katana and wielder become one
-Dark Quake: Deals Dark Line damage in four cardinal directions
-Banish: Dooms
A-Ability: High Chakra
-Acupuncture: Recovers and increases Weapon Attack
-Teleport: Movement range doubles
-Spirit Break: Reduces random stat of random enemy
-Spirit Charge: Increases random stat for random team mate
-Life Bond: Sacrifices next turn to add user's stats to team mate
R-Ability: Foresight:
-Evade and Knock Back
S-Ability: Meditate
-Increases stats each time Wait command is selected
C-Ability: Lost Combo
-Ranged combo for Black Monks
Lawcasta.......
"It was a total failure," Marche said, holding a large icepack against his throbbing forehead. "We had two missions. To find our clan and get the Grimoire. Well, out Clan is dead, with the possible exeption of Monteblanc, and now Archemis has the Grimoire." Strife was sitting across from him, holding a glass of Marlboro wine. It had been a day since Ritz and Marche had stormed Jagd Dorsa in an attempt to retrieve the Gran Grimoire. Now they were back at Bervenia, nursing their wounds and trying to regroup after several failures in a inconvenient row.
"We're stuck here and we have no one to help us stop Archemis from getting away with whatever he's trying to do," Ritz concluded. She too was injured from combat, though not to the same extent as Marche, seeing as he had been dead for several minutes during the mission.
"Surely there must be some warriors in Ivalice that could complement your skills," Strife said hopefully. Marche shook his head.
"Our Clan was the ultimate fighting force. We didn't call it Ultima for no reason afterall. Any one of them was a lethal combat unit. Together, our power was pretty close to absolute," he said. This was no exaggeration. Clan Ultima had single-handedly saved Ivalice many times before.
"Apparently, they weren't as invincible as you had thought," Strife said. Marche clenched his fist.
"Listen, Strife. Some of the best friends we've ever had are dead, we're trapped in a totally different dimension from our home, and to top it off, I have a throbbing, screaming headache stemming from the fact that I took an Ultima Shot to the chest two days ago. I am pissed, and I don't need you putting down out Clan right now," he said in a burst of irate anger. He slouched back in the chair and sighed deeply.
Nobody spoke for several minutes, until Strife rose from his seat, his long crimson cloak ruffling as he stood.
"There may be a solution," he said calmly. "I believe I know of a person who may be off assistance." Marche opened one eye and looked at Strife dubiously. Ritz's attention was also piqued.
"Who?" she asked.
"There is a person up north. A Bangaa monk by the name of Ivan. He's walled up in a monastery beyond Lutia, close to the boarder of Archemis's territory."
"What's so special about him?" Marche asked.
"He used to be part of Archemis's army."
Somewhere in the Northern Regions.......
Sagaro kneeled before Archemis's tall throne. It stood like a tall edifice in the center of the darkened chamber. Torches on the walls provided meager illumination in the windowless room.
"You have retrieved the Book, I see," said a voice from the darkness.
"Yes, lord Archemis," the Ninja said, removed the large tome from his satchel.
"Most excellent."
"Sir, I also have news on the movements of the Skarcastor and the Soulvetar," Sagaro said, referring to Ritz and Marche. "It appears that they are heading towards a monastery north of Lutia Pass. It is possible that they are attempting to recruit the Black Monk."
"Ivan? They will never convince him to join their fight," Archemis said, laughing softly.
"Indeed Lord Archemis. But it gets stranger still."
"How so?"
"It appears that Simon the Hellbringer has already dispatched himself to confront them."
"What? Without my orders?"
"Indeed, lord Archemis. He says that one of his prophecies became Absolute."
"I do not have time for Nu Mou superstition. Simon cannot be allowed to act outside of orders again. I want you to stop him by any means necessary. Including lethal force."
"As you wish, lord Archemis."
Days later.......
Marche and Ritz stood before the gates of the gargantuan monastery. It stood in the bleak, blustery Lutian tundra like it had fallen from the sky. The monastery was surrounded by 100 foot walls with spires at its numerous corners. It was thoroughly impenetrable by conventional means.
As they stared up at the vertigo inducing gate, a small porthole in the top popped open. A Bangaa's head appeared in view of Ritz and Marche. It wore the bizarre, vision obscuring helmet of a Defender.
"What do you want?" it asked with a distinctly Bangaa accent, and a rather irate one at that. Marche cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled his response to the door keeper.
"We were sent here from the Ivalician Judiciary to find someone. Is there a-" but he was cut off by the Defender.
"Politicsss have no place on holy ground. Now go away!" he snapped, slamming the window shut. Ritz and Marche stood confused for a moment. Then, Marche banged on the thick metal gate hard. The sound reverberated through the walls, and soon after the port hole was reopened. The Defender appeared again.
"You again! I told you, you have no busssinesss at Sssaint Tariusss of the Fallen Moon . Leave at once!"
"We need to speak to Ivan Eranov!" Marche yelled, but not before the Defender closed the port hole once more. It was beginning to try his patience. Before he could do anything rash, though, Ritz stopped him.
"Let me handle this. I've spent enough time around the Viera to know how to deal with Spiritual people, evidently better than you can," she said, as she rapped on the gate again. The Port hole immediately swung open
"What?" he asked, clearly very angry this time. Ritz called up to him in a more calmed voice.
"I apologize for my friend. We wish to pay our respects to this Holy Place and to Saint Tarius. We seek to speak with Ivan Eranov as regards your beliefs," she said. The Defender looked down at them briefly, likely trying to decide if Ritz was being sincere or not.
"Very well," he said as he once more disappeared into the wall. Seconds later, the howling sound of gears grinding echoed through the metal walls as they slowly creaked open, revealing the inner sanctum of the Monastery. On the other side, a White Monk holding a long, metal staff greeted them.
"Welcome, friendsss, to the Monassstary of Sssaint Tariusss of the Fallen Moon."
While from the outside the Monastery looked like an impenetrable fortress of solid steel, the inside was an entirely different world. As it happened, the great walls that encompassed it were just that: walls. Inside was an expansive paradise. Plants and trees of a dozen varieties populated the court of the Monastery, as explosion of colorful Cherry Blossoms burst forth from almost every possible location. The sheer volume of Cherry Blossom flowers created an almost constant, gentle rain of pink petals, like a sort of ever present rose snowfall.
Bangaa Monks and Defenders walked leisurely around the green landscape that stood in stark contrast to the unforgiving Lutia wilderness. The accented chatter of the Bangaa filled the air with thoughts of poetry, philosophy and prayer. In the center of the Monastery, a large group of White Monks organized themselves into a long rows as they lept through the air in unison, striking the air with their finely honed martial arts. In the background, Ritz and Marche could clearly hear the gentle trickle of water flowing through the gardens of the Monastery. It was remarkable.
"What is this place?" Ritz asked in wonderment. The Monk chuckled to himself.
"It isss the gift left to thisss world by Ssssaint Tariusss," he said proudly.
"How is it possible?" Marche asked.
"You do not know of the deedsss of Sssaint Tariusss?" responded the Monk. Marche and Ritz shook their heads.
"We uh, came here to speak with Ivan Eranov. We seek to, uh, learn from him," Marche said, aprehensibly. He was not as good at expressing spiritual reverence as Ritz, who had spent much of her time in Ivalice with the Viera, a natural spiritual people. The Monk seemed to accept this.
"Valk thisss way, and I will tell you of Sssaint Tariusss."
They path they took brought them through a lush garden. Monks and Bishops tended the carefully grown flora with near artistic effort, crafting works of natural art of stunning glory. As the three crossed an arched stone bridge, Marche looked down to see multi colored Kois swimming lazily through the crystal clean water below.
"Sssaint Tariusss wasss a Evangariusss. It isss a Bangaa word that I ssssupossse would transsslate asss Godsssend in the Human language. We believe that he was sssent from thee heavensss to protect the world.
"Our ssscripturesss tell of hisss exploitsss. But hisss greatessst deed was that he sssaved the world from ultimte dessstruction."
"How did he do that?" Marche asked.
"He fought the ssserventsss of Vandal, the Devil King. He wasss sssuccesssful, but Vandal was infuriated by defeat. Ssso, he decided to dessstroy all life in Ivalice by causssing the Moon to fall from the heavensss. It would have broken the world in two, had not Sssaint Tariusss acted. He lept into the sssky to meet the falling moon, and drew hisss sssword. Finally, before it could strike, he cut the moon into a thousssand piecesss. He then hurled them back into the sssky, where it vas reborn by God, but he kept one piece. That one piece wasss planted in the earth where this Monassstery sssitsss. From that piece, all magic in the world wasss born."
"And it is that piece of the moon that protects this Monastery from the elements," Ritz said. The Monk nodded.
Finally, the three arrived at one of the far corners of Monastery. There was a large metal door with a golden cross carved into it.
"Brother Ivan liesss beyond the door. He hasss requesssted to be left alone by the brotherhood, but I'm sssure he would welcome a pair of Pilgrimsss into hisss quartersss." With that, the Monk bowed his head and walked away. Marche looked at Ritz, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.
At the gate......
A typically short, stout Nu Mou Alchemist stood at the base of the entrance to the Monastery. He rapped briskly on the massive gate with his gnarled Scorpion Tail mace. The Defender that had greeted Marche and Ritz responed.
"What?" he shouted. The Alchemist raised his Scorpion Tail to shield his eyes from the blinding sun of the unforgiving Winter sky.
"I have come pay my respects to Saint Tarius," he said. The Bangaa laughed.
"We do not welcome your ssscience into thessse Holy Walls. You only ssseek to dissscredit the miraclesss of Sssaint Tarius!" The Alchemist smiled to himself as he responded.
"That may be true. But did not Saint Pryor the Wanderer seek shelter from the wrath of Vandal in the home of a certain man of Science who was eventually given faith?" he said. He was well versed in the religous beliefs of many of the Races of Ivalice, including the Bangaa's convoluted faith. The Defender thought for a moment.
"May you too open your mind to the vorks of the Evangariusss," he said, as he began to open the door.
Ivan's Quarters....
The first thing that Marche and Ritz noticed upon entering the incense filled chamber was that the black cloaked Bangaa within was floating about a foot above the ground. His eyes were closed as he meditated silently, with his long Petal Chaser resting on his lap. No sooner had they entered than he addressed them. He had sensed them enter without even opening his eyes.
"Welcome, friends," he said, without any accent whatsoever. It was something of a relief for Ritz and Marche, who had trouble following the stories of the Monk, with his thick accent. "I am Ivan Eranov, the Black Monk."
"Hello, Ivan. I am Marche Radiuju and this is Ritz Malheur. We've come a long way to see you," Marche said. Ivan nodded.
"Yes, I sense much fatigue in you both. But I also sense a great urgency within. I wish that I had away for the two of you to relax, but I'm afraid my chamber is not built with hosting company in mind."
"That's quite all right. And you are correct, we do have urgent matters to discuss with you," Ritz said, sitting on the brilliant crimson rug that covered the entire floor. Slowly, Ivan descended from his levitated state, and, upon landing safely on the floor, opened his dark red eyes. He looked at both of his visitors and Marche too sat down.
"I have an idea of what you have come here for," Ivan said.
"I thought you might. I got the idea from your Gate Gaurdian that Humans do not frequent the Monastery too often. I suppose that you would thought that a pair of Armed humans from the Judiciary might not be hear just to 'show their reverence'," Marche said, eyeing Ritz as he spoke the last part. Ivan smiled lightly, revealing a pair of razor sharp fangs at the corners of his long snout.
"You want my help to fight Archemis, do you not?" Ivan said. Ritz and Marche nodded.
"Do you know of the situation in Ivalice? It's deplorable. I've seen some thing that no living being should be exposed to. All thanks to Archemis. We want to stop him, and we need you," Ritz said. Internally, she shivered as she though back to the carnage at Ambervale. Ivan sighed.
"Do you know why I abandoned Archemis?" he asked. "One day, he had us attack a village of innocents to try and draw forward the Ivalician Army into an ambush he had set up. I said that I would not consent to slaughter innocent women and children for no apparent reason. Do you know what he did? He told me I didn't have to go."
"What?" Marche asked, perplexed. Ivan nodded.
"That's right. He told me I could stay back. Stay back, and watch the town burn. I could do nothing to stop it. The screams of those people will haunt me to the day I die. After that, I left without saying a word to that Monster. I dedicated my life to trying to repent for ever calling that man 'Master'."
"But wouldn't you like to see Archemis dead? To ensure that such a tragedy would never happen again?" Ritz asked, hopefully.
"No. I have realized here that no act of Violence I commit for the sake of justice could ever repent for the Violence I committed under that man. I have abandoned that life."
"But don't you see? While you sit in the solitude of the Monastery, Archemis is advancing towards his ultimate goal. Do you know how many more innocents will die before his thirst for conquest is quenched?" Marche said.
"This isn't about penitence, Ivan. This is about saving thousands of lives," Ritz spoke. But the Black Monk had made up his mind.
"I am not a man of war any longer. This sword I hold is my last connection to my old ways, and I only hold it as a reminder of the blood that I have spilt upon the earth. I am sorry, but I cannot help you." With that, Ivan closed his eyes again and began to meditate once more. He had locked Marche and Ritz out of his mind. But as they were leaving, dejected, Ritz managed to say one final though that Ivan could not ignore."
"If Archemis wins, then all the repenting in the world won't save you or anyone else from his sword."
The two warriors re-entered the Courtyard into a scene of chaos. The once lush gardens of the Monastery had been engulfed in flames. Bangaa of all sorts ran around in a panic to try and extinguish the flames that lept up from the ground at every possible location. Many of them fell dead in their tracks while trying to help, their lives snuffed out by a fatal Death spell.
"What's going on here?" Marche exclaimed at the havoc in front of them.
"Look up there!" Ritz yelled, pointing to the eastern wall, the center of hellish melee. Standing ontop of it was an Alchemist holding his Scorpion Tail high in the air. Fierce Firaga bursts erupted around it, spreading destruction in all directions. Marche and Ritz ran over to him at full speed, drawing their weapons.
"You!" yelled the Alchemist as he saw them approaching. "You! You are the ones!" But they had no time to talk. To two of them lept at him with their weapons beared. Long before the were within striking range, though, the Nu Mou let loose a vicious Thundaga storm that sent them back to floor, their bodies paralyzed by electricity.
"You are the ones that will bring about our destruction! You are the ones that must be made no more!" With Marche and Ritz grounded by the mighty electrical attack, the Alchemist thrust his hand into the sky, releasing a bolt of red lighting. As it pieced the light cloud bank above, it turned the sky a bloody red color.
"I will remove your lives from this mortal Coil!" he cried as he slowly twirled the long mace in their air, as if stirring some invisible cauldron. As Marche and Ritz struggled to rise, they realized this could be the end for them.
"Enough!" cried a familiar voice. Suddenly, in a puff of Golden mist, Sagaro stood behind the Alchemist, his blades drawn.
"Simon the Hellbringer! By order of the Lord Archemis himself, you are to stop at once and return to Fortuna immediately! he barked. The Megalomancer turned around faced the Ninja, holding off on completing his finishing spell.
"You fool, you cannot possibly comprehend the danger that these two will bring to us if they are not completely eliminated now!" he said.
"Frankly, I don't care. You have acted without orders for the last time, Simon. You are either going to stop right now under your own will, or I will kill you," Sagaro responded. "Besides, I have fought these pitiful excuses for warriors already. They are no threat."
"If that is so, then what if the harm of me destroying them now?" Simon queried.
"I will tell you the problem. This Monastery is sitting right on top of a Magic vein. If you drop a meteor on it, you'll cause a chain reaction that will destroy half of our northern territories!" the Ninja explained.
"It is a sacrifice that we must make!"
"I think not!" Sagaro dashed at Simon, preparing to stop his spell by force. But Simon was one step ahead of him. He thrust his arm forward, unleashing his Death attack. Needless to say, Sagaro was not prepared. With a flash of eerie black light, Sagaro fell to the roof of the wall, not moving.
"The deed is done. And now, to finish what I started!" He turned to face the wounded Marche and Ritz, who, though standing, where still in an incapacitating state of shock from receiving the Thundaga head on. They look up in fear as a ball of crimson energy formed around Simon's hand that he lifted skywards, preparing to unleash his devastating Meteor attack.
"Don't move," Sagaro said. Simon whipped his head around to see the formerly dead Ninja standing erect, unharmed. An Angel ring on his left hand unleashed a thin stream of steam, it's energy spent.
"This is the end of the line, fool," he said raising his Masamunes to attack position. "Now it is time that you saw why I am called the Lightning Blade." Simon opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced by a flash of steel across the roof top. In the blink of an eye, Sagaro had moved 30 feet, drawing his Katanas through the Alchemist's gut. Simon's eyes widened as he slowly began to fall to the tile roof, but with his final vestige of strength raised the ball of energy that he still held in his palm skyward.
"Go..." he whispered.
"No!" Sagaro cried, but it was too late. Like a bullet, the final component to the Meteor strike shot into the scarlet stained sky. Immediately, Sagaro vanished in a puff of mist, his screams of fury echoing through the air as he teleported.
Slowly, a low rumbling filled the area. Marche and Ritz, unsure of what had just happened, looked up with terror filled eyes as the entire sky became dominated by a fireball plummeting towards them.
"What is that?!" Marche shouted.
"Let's get out of here!" Ritz yelled, taking his hand. They had recovered barely enough the attempt to escape. Of course, they did not here the conversation between that Megalomancers, and thus did not know that any escape would be futile. They ran for the gate that now wide open as Bangaa fled their holy place in fear of the impending destruction.
"Wait," a voice said from behind them. Ritz and Marche turned around to see Ivan standing in the middle of the court yard. He spoke to them.
"Young ones, I thank you," he said.
"What are you talking about? It's our fault that Alchemist came here in the first place! Now let's go!" Marche said. Ivan shook his head.
"There is no way to run from this, just as I have realize that I cannot run from my past. I must go through it!" he said.
"What are you-" Ritz started, but stopped as, all of a sudden, Ivan lept into the sky, directly towards the falling Meteor. They stared in awe as the Black Monk hurtled towards it, propelled by the skills of a master Dragoon. The Bangaa behind them also turned and watched. Then one of them, a Bishop, began to speak.
"And thusss, empowered by the will of God, Tariusss faced the rain of dessstruction, knowing full well that to fail would be to allow the world to fall to the Devil King. And he drew hisss sssword that sssung with the praisssesss to God and ssstruck, rending the falling moon into a thousssand piecesss." And as they spoke, the sound of a sword being unsheathed was heared over the roar of the meteor. Ivan held his Petal Chaser, the tool by which he had exterteriminated thousands of lives, and poured all of his soul into it. He attacked with such ferocity and speed that all that could be seen was the glint of a blade moving at an unbelievable speeds.
"He did it!" Ritz exclaimed.
Ivan sheathed his swords as he began to fall from his jump. Long, chasmous cracks ran down that length of the fiery meteor, fracturing it in a dozen directions. The Internal pressure of the meteor over came it in it's weakened state, and the giant rock burst into a thousand pieces, like a firework. The Bangaa below cheered their savior returned to the ground in a shower of sparkling pebbles falling harmlessly along with him. Ritz and Marche ran up to him as he set on the scorched garden.
"How did you do that?" Marche asked incredulously. "Who are you?" Ivan stood stoicly in the middle of the dying fires, looking up at the glittering hail.
"I am Ivan Eranov, the Eighth Megalomancer."