Chapter 12
Sorrow
Sigma's Note: Anybody who didn't see the last chapter coming clearly hasn't paid much attention to my writing style. Not that I intend to kill off EVERYONE. I only employ sudden and dramatic death when it furthers the plot.
Does it make me a bad person to laugh when I kill off a character? Because I did. And I love it when my reviews turn into a river of flame. I use them to warm my house. It's cheaper than oil.
And one final thing, I decided to change my spacing slightly. It should make it easier to read.
Ivan's eyes slowly opened as his body was thrown from blissful unconsciousness into a world of hurt. He could quite clearly feel each of the numerous broken bones and open wounds, the blood from which had begun to coagulate. He was glad that Bangaa bodies where so resilient to damage. If he were human, then he would have definitely been dead.
Using the empty sheath that held his Petal Chaser, he pulled himself up from the pile of rubble that he lay in. That act tore open some of his wound, and he groaned in pain as dark red blood poured from his side. He was having trouble breathing, each inhalation bringing him unbearable agony. At least five of his ribs were broken, and he was willing to bet that he was having some internal bleeding as well, which would no doubt complicate his recovery. But he was alive.
Stumbling out of the crumbled restaurant, the first thing he saw would scar his memory until his dying day. He saw Marche, the fearless warrior that he watched in awe as he crushed opponent after opponent in the training arena, doubled over a bloodied corpse, weeping uncontrollably. He could just make out a luxurious lock of red hair from beneath Marche's black armored form.
"Dear god," he said, an intense feeling of dread washing over him. Using the sheath like a crutch, he walked over on wobbling legs, blood still leaking from his torso. He refused to believe what he was seeing, praying that his eyes were deceiving him. Unfortunately, they were not.
Marche stood up upon hearing Ivan's approach. He was breathing heavily, his face distorted in a nightmarish combination of anger and sorrow.
"She's dead, Ivan," he said coldly.
"Move aside. I can-"
"No you can't. I've already tried. Not even the Phoenix could revive her. There's nothing we can do." Marche turned around to face Ivan. For a brief moment, Ivan recoiled at the sight of the Soulvetar. It was not the sash of Ritz's blood that had stained his chest that so terrified him. It was his eyes.
Vandal, he couldn't help but think. Marche's eyes were void of human emotion. They glowed with a evil light the likes of which Ivan had never seen in a mortal. They were the eyes of the devil.
Ivan walked past Marche and kneeled before Ritz's crushed body. It was a gruesome thing to see. Her chest had been split open by the thunderous force of Kreiger's Excalibur, and her normally crimson armor and clothing were colored a dark black by her blood. His body was visibly shaking. He pressed the sheath of his sword against his forehead and uttered a guttural prayer in the Bangaa language. He could not feel her life energy anywhere as he normally could with a dead body. It was as if her candle had not only been snuffed out, but actually submerged in water. There was no trace of her spirit.
"She truly is gone," the Black Monk said quietly. Marche's hand tensed up against the leather wrapped handles of his black Paradox Blade.
"I could have saved her. I promised....that I would never leave her. I....failed," he said in a whisper that slowly grew into a growl. "I....I.....am going to kill Archemis. I'm going to tear him limb from limb then throw his body straight into Hell."
"Marche..." Ivan started to say.
"Ivan, don't. He deserves to die. And these hands are going to do it," he said, staring down at his blood stained gauntlets.
"You really do sicken me, Marche," a voice said out of nowhere. "To think that such a valiant warrior could be reduced to a whimpering dog over a woman." Marche recognized the voice. He caught the black figure standing in the devastated street out of the corner of his eye.
"Mirabo!" he shouted in anger as he launched his furious Dante attack at the cloaked phantom. The fiery serpent struck Mirabo, engulfing him in a burning hellfire.
"You are very, VERY dense. I thought I explained to you that you can't kill me!" Mirabo said as he calmly walked out of the flames, he clothing not even singed. He still wore the metal mask that hid his disfigured face.
"What can I say. It makes me feel better," Marche said dryly. Meanwhile, Ivan was standing aside, next to Ritz's body very confused.
"What kind of demon is this?" he asked Marche. He was really wishing that he had his sword.
"He's a ghost that doesn't want to stay dead," Marche responded.
"As if I had a choice in the matter. By my life and death is not in question here," Mirabo said, suddenly appearing next to Marche, looking over at Ritz. Ivan's eyes were wide in shock. "Hers, on the other hand, is."
"What?" Marche snapped, whipping his White Paradox Blade up and pressing it against Mirabo's neck.
"Will you stop that!?"
The Steel faced ghost walked over to Ritz's body. He placed his bandage wrapped hand in the pool of blood that had formed around her. He raised to his hidden faced, staring intently at the scarlet fluid that covered the white fabric on his hands.
"This is bad. For everyone," he said. Marche was surprised at his apparent concern. Before he could reply, Mirabo raised his hand to silence him.
"It's nothing personal. I just didn't believe that the girl could be killed so easily."
"You son of a-" Marche started, but Ivan interrupted him.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"I guess that Marche didn't explain everything to you. All right, I'll make it simple for you. Ivalice does want Marche or the girl to die. That's why they ended up in this world in the first place. Call it fate or destiny, but the world pulled them from theirs before they could be consumed by the flames of the Alpha Stone."
"The Alpha Stone? You mean that thing in Kreiger's chest?" Marche said.
"The Alpha Stone...I've heard legends about that. It is supposed to grant whoever holds it the power of God. Or of Vandal. But are you saying that Archemis found the Alpha Stone?" Ivan asked. Mirabo smiled behind his mask. In an instant, he was standing a dozen yards away, where Kreiger was struck down. There was a large burn mark where Marche's Prima Cross had removed all traces of Kreiger from the universe, Mirabo knelt down and brushed through the blackened dirt until he pulled out a tiny shard of crystal.
"Yes. Archemis did find that Alpha Stone. That's why he suddenly turned against Ivalice in the north. When he discovered the power it gave him, something changed in his head. Warped his thinking. And it's why he's been unstoppable and will remain unstoppable until either the power of the Stone overcomes him or you destroy it." Mirabo held the shard of Crystal up to the newly risen moon. Its pink aura refracted foreboding red light on Mirabo's chiseled face.
"How do you know so much about Archemis?" Ivan asked. Even he did not know that much.
"I know everything, my dear Bangaa." He turned around and teleported again, this time landing on top of one of the few buildings that remained intact.
"Mirabo, I swear, if you leave us like this, I will find a way to kill you and use it. You have to tell us how to stop Archemis," Marche said, his patience running out. Mirabo laughed.
"Go east, to Sienna Gorge. Past that, you'll reach Deti Plains. There, you'll meet a Sage named Ghent. His cronies may give you some trouble, but if you reach him, he can help you. Oh, and bring the girl's body," he said as he turned to leave.
"You can't mean Ghent of Turpscadai..." Ivan said. His stomach was doing flips.
"What are you talking about?! And why do you want us to bring Ritz?!" Marche yelled, approaching his boiling point.
"Because," Mirabo said, as his body slowly faded into the moonlight, "he can bring her back."
Sorrow
Sigma's Note: Anybody who didn't see the last chapter coming clearly hasn't paid much attention to my writing style. Not that I intend to kill off EVERYONE. I only employ sudden and dramatic death when it furthers the plot.
Does it make me a bad person to laugh when I kill off a character? Because I did. And I love it when my reviews turn into a river of flame. I use them to warm my house. It's cheaper than oil.
And one final thing, I decided to change my spacing slightly. It should make it easier to read.
Ivan's eyes slowly opened as his body was thrown from blissful unconsciousness into a world of hurt. He could quite clearly feel each of the numerous broken bones and open wounds, the blood from which had begun to coagulate. He was glad that Bangaa bodies where so resilient to damage. If he were human, then he would have definitely been dead.
Using the empty sheath that held his Petal Chaser, he pulled himself up from the pile of rubble that he lay in. That act tore open some of his wound, and he groaned in pain as dark red blood poured from his side. He was having trouble breathing, each inhalation bringing him unbearable agony. At least five of his ribs were broken, and he was willing to bet that he was having some internal bleeding as well, which would no doubt complicate his recovery. But he was alive.
Stumbling out of the crumbled restaurant, the first thing he saw would scar his memory until his dying day. He saw Marche, the fearless warrior that he watched in awe as he crushed opponent after opponent in the training arena, doubled over a bloodied corpse, weeping uncontrollably. He could just make out a luxurious lock of red hair from beneath Marche's black armored form.
"Dear god," he said, an intense feeling of dread washing over him. Using the sheath like a crutch, he walked over on wobbling legs, blood still leaking from his torso. He refused to believe what he was seeing, praying that his eyes were deceiving him. Unfortunately, they were not.
Marche stood up upon hearing Ivan's approach. He was breathing heavily, his face distorted in a nightmarish combination of anger and sorrow.
"She's dead, Ivan," he said coldly.
"Move aside. I can-"
"No you can't. I've already tried. Not even the Phoenix could revive her. There's nothing we can do." Marche turned around to face Ivan. For a brief moment, Ivan recoiled at the sight of the Soulvetar. It was not the sash of Ritz's blood that had stained his chest that so terrified him. It was his eyes.
Vandal, he couldn't help but think. Marche's eyes were void of human emotion. They glowed with a evil light the likes of which Ivan had never seen in a mortal. They were the eyes of the devil.
Ivan walked past Marche and kneeled before Ritz's crushed body. It was a gruesome thing to see. Her chest had been split open by the thunderous force of Kreiger's Excalibur, and her normally crimson armor and clothing were colored a dark black by her blood. His body was visibly shaking. He pressed the sheath of his sword against his forehead and uttered a guttural prayer in the Bangaa language. He could not feel her life energy anywhere as he normally could with a dead body. It was as if her candle had not only been snuffed out, but actually submerged in water. There was no trace of her spirit.
"She truly is gone," the Black Monk said quietly. Marche's hand tensed up against the leather wrapped handles of his black Paradox Blade.
"I could have saved her. I promised....that I would never leave her. I....failed," he said in a whisper that slowly grew into a growl. "I....I.....am going to kill Archemis. I'm going to tear him limb from limb then throw his body straight into Hell."
"Marche..." Ivan started to say.
"Ivan, don't. He deserves to die. And these hands are going to do it," he said, staring down at his blood stained gauntlets.
"You really do sicken me, Marche," a voice said out of nowhere. "To think that such a valiant warrior could be reduced to a whimpering dog over a woman." Marche recognized the voice. He caught the black figure standing in the devastated street out of the corner of his eye.
"Mirabo!" he shouted in anger as he launched his furious Dante attack at the cloaked phantom. The fiery serpent struck Mirabo, engulfing him in a burning hellfire.
"You are very, VERY dense. I thought I explained to you that you can't kill me!" Mirabo said as he calmly walked out of the flames, he clothing not even singed. He still wore the metal mask that hid his disfigured face.
"What can I say. It makes me feel better," Marche said dryly. Meanwhile, Ivan was standing aside, next to Ritz's body very confused.
"What kind of demon is this?" he asked Marche. He was really wishing that he had his sword.
"He's a ghost that doesn't want to stay dead," Marche responded.
"As if I had a choice in the matter. By my life and death is not in question here," Mirabo said, suddenly appearing next to Marche, looking over at Ritz. Ivan's eyes were wide in shock. "Hers, on the other hand, is."
"What?" Marche snapped, whipping his White Paradox Blade up and pressing it against Mirabo's neck.
"Will you stop that!?"
The Steel faced ghost walked over to Ritz's body. He placed his bandage wrapped hand in the pool of blood that had formed around her. He raised to his hidden faced, staring intently at the scarlet fluid that covered the white fabric on his hands.
"This is bad. For everyone," he said. Marche was surprised at his apparent concern. Before he could reply, Mirabo raised his hand to silence him.
"It's nothing personal. I just didn't believe that the girl could be killed so easily."
"You son of a-" Marche started, but Ivan interrupted him.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"I guess that Marche didn't explain everything to you. All right, I'll make it simple for you. Ivalice does want Marche or the girl to die. That's why they ended up in this world in the first place. Call it fate or destiny, but the world pulled them from theirs before they could be consumed by the flames of the Alpha Stone."
"The Alpha Stone? You mean that thing in Kreiger's chest?" Marche said.
"The Alpha Stone...I've heard legends about that. It is supposed to grant whoever holds it the power of God. Or of Vandal. But are you saying that Archemis found the Alpha Stone?" Ivan asked. Mirabo smiled behind his mask. In an instant, he was standing a dozen yards away, where Kreiger was struck down. There was a large burn mark where Marche's Prima Cross had removed all traces of Kreiger from the universe, Mirabo knelt down and brushed through the blackened dirt until he pulled out a tiny shard of crystal.
"Yes. Archemis did find that Alpha Stone. That's why he suddenly turned against Ivalice in the north. When he discovered the power it gave him, something changed in his head. Warped his thinking. And it's why he's been unstoppable and will remain unstoppable until either the power of the Stone overcomes him or you destroy it." Mirabo held the shard of Crystal up to the newly risen moon. Its pink aura refracted foreboding red light on Mirabo's chiseled face.
"How do you know so much about Archemis?" Ivan asked. Even he did not know that much.
"I know everything, my dear Bangaa." He turned around and teleported again, this time landing on top of one of the few buildings that remained intact.
"Mirabo, I swear, if you leave us like this, I will find a way to kill you and use it. You have to tell us how to stop Archemis," Marche said, his patience running out. Mirabo laughed.
"Go east, to Sienna Gorge. Past that, you'll reach Deti Plains. There, you'll meet a Sage named Ghent. His cronies may give you some trouble, but if you reach him, he can help you. Oh, and bring the girl's body," he said as he turned to leave.
"You can't mean Ghent of Turpscadai..." Ivan said. His stomach was doing flips.
"What are you talking about?! And why do you want us to bring Ritz?!" Marche yelled, approaching his boiling point.
"Because," Mirabo said, as his body slowly faded into the moonlight, "he can bring her back."