N.B. Revised! I did this first chapter off the top o' me head, but when I went back and played FFIV again, I found some small changes that I felt needed to be made. Enjoy!

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"The Transfiguration" by shootski

Chapter 1: Holy Light

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His hand, covered in a black-metal gauntlet, extended towards the hilt of the sword as it floated in the air above them. He could feel the power erupting from it, could feel it pierce his very soul. The others stood back, unable to move to help him, or to even divert there eyes as the sword began to glow.

Slowly, almost painstakingly, the sword began to descend. He waited in anticipation as it floated ever closer to his hand. As it approached, the glow enveloping it grew brighter, and brighter still, until it was shining with a blinding white light.

Holy light.

The others were forced to put their hands and arms over their eyes to avoid having them burned out by the light.

He stared right at it, eyes wide in awe and wonder.

It hovered a mere four inches above his outstretched hand.

Then, as if in a dream, he reached up and gripped the sword by the hilt.

As his fingers curled around it, a sudden flash emitted from it, enveloping the mirrored room in light. The others, still covering their eyes, thought they would go blind.

Though neither he nor they could see it, he could feel the Death Sword at his side disintegrating into nothingness.

The piercing light finally began to dim. As the brightness receded, the others removed their hands and arms and rubbed their sore eyes.

Porom was the first to look up. She gasped.

The others followed here wide-eyed gaze to the spot where he had stood. Tellah's eyes went just as wide as Porom's. A huge grin was on Palom's face.

He had changed.

His Dark Armor was gone. In its place was a shining gold and blue breastplate, golden greaves, and what appeared to be a bright gold, almost white, tunic. The armor glowed with a strong white light, reflecting off of the mirrors that made up the room and bathing the whole room with a faint luminescence. A bright gold and crimson cape rested on his shoulders, fluttering in some unfelt, unheard breeze. His right hand still gripped the sword, as it resumed its faint glow. He had no helmet, allowing the others to see his flowing, shoulder-length hair. It was a light-blue, almost silvery-white, color. Somehow, even though no one had seen him previously without his helmet, the others knew it had not been that color before. All of this paled in comparison to one startling aspect: his face. It was a beautiful and terrifying face. It was noble and fearful, peaceful and tormented, calm and furious, forgiving and vengeful, all at once.

Slowly, he slid the Sword of Legend into a finely-worked, bejeweled sheath at his left hip. As the others stared at him, he heaved a slow, heavy sigh of relief. It is done, he thought to himself.

After seven grueling hours climbing the Mountain of Ordeals, and a fight to the death with the Fiend of Earth, Cecil Harvey had attained the Sword of Legend and transformed into the legendary Paladin.

And yet...

The darkness remained.

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"Way to go, dude!" Palom slapped Cecil good-naturedly on the back.

"...that was amazing..." Porom was still trying to come to grips with what had just happened.

"Congratulations, Cecil!" Tellah beamed at him.

Cecil could hear them praising him, and his mouth smiled, but his mind was in a different place. His body certainly felt different, to be sure, filled with new powers and abilities, but his soul still suffered from the torments of the evil that plagued him. He had thought that the holy magic of the Sword would cleanse him, but the evil remained inside him, taunting him, distracting him, hoping for the day when he would finally succumb to the darkness.

He knew that was the real reason he had journeyed all this way up the mountain. Of course, he wanted to save Rosa and eliminate Golbez, and the Elder of Mysidia had assured him that this was the only way to do so. But he had climbed the mountain with only one thought rampaging through his mind: to banish his own darkness. But it was still within him.

Many days ago, the king of Baron had sent him on that fateful mission to the town of Mist. After the package had exploded, and the Bomb had reduced the peaceful town to a pile of smoldering cinders, he had realized that the darkness within him had begun to take hold of his consciousness. No, it was even before that. It had all started on that mission to Mysidia to obtain the Crystal. He had begun to question his king's motives and actions. For this, the king had stripped him of command of the Red Wings. Yes, it was at this time that Cecil had recognized the darkness.

He had realized how all of the Dark Knights had the darkness within them, that it was what caused them to be who they were. He had remembered all of the renowned Dark Knights of the past, and, looking on them with his new discoveries, had seen how they were nothing more than raging demons, with no other purpose than to kill and destroy. It was clear that the king had full knowledge of this darkness, and that it was for this reason alone that the kingdom of Baron had risen to its prosperous heights. How the king was able to conceal such damning acts from the people of Baron, Cecil didn't think he would ever know. All that he had known was that, rather than embracing the darkness, as all the other great ones of his kind had, he had begun to shun it.

It revolted him. It sickened him. It terrified him.

It was beginning to destroy him.

He knew that he wasn't a true Dark Knight.

He had embarked on his quest to defeat Golbez, not only to protect his world and to save his friends, but to try and atone for the evils he had committed under both the command of the Red Wings and the influence of the darkness.

After the incident at Fabul, their king had offered him the Death Sword, a weapon of a Dark Knight who had passed through many years ago. His hands had shaken uncontrollably as he took it. He knew that it fed off of, and amplified, the darkness within him, giving the sword unholy powers like no other. Still, he had taken it, hoping that it would give him the strength to defeat Golbez and thereby atone for his sins.

That had changed when he had arrived at Mysidia. The Elder had told him that his Death Sword would never prevail against the darkest, most evil of enemies - of which Golbez was certainly one. When the Elder of Mysidia had told him of the Mountain of Ordeals and what was at the peak, he was reluctant at first, remembering Rosa, and how she was being held by Golbez, and in danger every minute that she was not with him. But finally, his will to be rid of the darkness had overcome his reluctance, and he had agreed to do it. That was when the twin mages Palom and Porom had joined him.

On the way up, they had met Tellah the wizard, who Cecil had had an encounter with previously, and they learned of his quest to obtain the deadliest and most powerful of all black arts, the Meteor spell, to avenge his daughter's death at the hands of Golbez. He had joined them.

Just before the peak, one of the Four Fiends had attacked them. Milon, the Fiend of Earth, had been sent by Golbez to do away with them. As they struck down his body, thinking him dead, and turned to continue, Milon had risen, drawing from the powers of darkness, and flew at them again.

As they fought for a second time, Cecil could sense the darkness in Milon. It was causing him to fight with blind and almost feral rage, even in his preemptive desire to kill them. Cecil could see it in his eyes as they battled. What had been a composed, almost humorous, visage had degenerated to a wild, hate-filled countenance.

Milon had gone mad.

Finally, they had forced him to the edge of the cliff. As he had tumbled to his doom, the voice of the Elder of Mysidia had passed through Cecil's memory:

"While you depend upon the dark sword, you cannot overcome true evil . . . you might be consumed by its darkness someday."

He knew that Milon had succumbed to his own darkness and lost all control.

He was more determined than ever to be rid of the evil. He had been certain that the Sword of Legend would be the key to his freedom from the darkness.

He had been so sure...

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...yet here he stood, with all the powers of a holy warrior, and still a prisoner to darkness.

Dear spirits, when will I be free?!

Porom gasped again. "Look at the mirrors!"

Everyone turned to where she was pointing, at the spot on the wall directly behind Cecil. His reflection returned their gazes as the stared with open mouths at it.

Cecil's reflection was wearing Dark Armor.

"...what does it mean?" Tellah whispered to no one in particular.

As they stared at it in shock, the mirrors began to shimmer and wave, as if they were a strange, vertical ocean.

A voice spoke. It came from everywhere, and nowhere.

My son...

As one, Cecil and his friends looked up at the ceiling, as if the voice was that of a god.

Cecil hesitantly opened his mouth and, softly, he spoke. It was the first thing he had said since becoming a Paladin.

"...son?"

The disembodied voice spoke again.

Through much sorrow have I longed for your coming, it said. I shall now entrust you with my power. By doing so, my pain will only grow. But there is no other way.

They were still looking up at the ceiling. No one noticed when Cecil's reflection stepped forward of its own accord.

Break from your past! Overcome your darkness! Only then will you truly be a Paladin...

They waited, but the voice didn't speak again.

Porom gasped for a third time.

The rest of the group lowered their eyes.

They saw a Dark Knight standing in front of the rear wall.

Cecil's reflection was gone.

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P.S. Well, there's one or two more chapters to come. I don't want to make too much of a short, but amazing, event of FFIV. Will update soon! All reviews are welcome and appreciated. Thanks!