N.B. I'm having fun with this whole fanfiction thing.

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"The Transfiguration" by shootski

Chapter 2: To Conquer Yourself

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Slowly, the Dark Knight drew his sword. As it slid free of the sheath, Cecil saw that it was an exact replica of the Death Sword - or else, it was another Death Sword.

The Dark Knight assumed a fighting stance, and waited.

Cecil began to understand. Somehow, he was going to have to defeat this Dark Knight if he was to ever free himself of his darkness. And he was going to have to do it alone.

The twins didn't see it his way.

"You're goin' down!" Palom shouted, and held out his left hand, palm up. A fireball materialized above it, growing larger with each passing moment.

Porom was right behind her twin brother. She unslung her bow from her shoulder and nocked three Holy arrows. Slowly, she drew back the bowstring and aimed, taking her time, leaving nothing to chance.

The Dark Knight remained where he was, still in his fighting stance, without giving any sign that he was going to attempt to evade the imminent attacks.

Just as the twins were about to release their respective attacks . . .

"STOP!"

Porom jumped, startled by the commanding authority of Cecil's voice, almost loosing the trio of arrows in her bow. Palom had his arm cocked back, ready to throw the now-huge fireball.

Cecil turned to face them. "This is MY fight! I must do this alone, to atone for my sins!"

"But you'll need our help!" Porom exclaimed.

A moment of silence followed. Then Tellah spoke.

"Children, do as he says."

Palom rolled his eyes. "Geez, not you too?!"

But Tellah was unmoved. "Put down your weapons." His voice softened. "It is as Cecil says," and here, he locked eyes with Cecil, "he must fight this battle alone."

So, Tellah understands, thought Cecil. Inwardly, he smiled and offered silent thanks to Tellah for knowing that this was how it had to be.

With a worried look on her face, Porom released tension on the bowstring, even more slowly than she had drawn it. Palom grumbled quite audibly, but the fireball disappeared from his hand.

Cecil turned back to the Dark Knight, who hadn't moved from his stance for the duration of the event that had just transpired. He put his hand on the hilt of the Sword of Legend, but didn't draw it. Instead, he closed his eyes and searched inside himself. He could sense power within himself, the holy power that had been bestowed to him upon his transformation. He began drawing from this power, focusing it through his arm, out of his hand, and into the sword.

Across the room, he could also sense the Dark Knight focusing his own power into the Death Sword. His power, however, was that of evil.

They stood twenty feet apart, neither moving, each bringing his power to bear.

Then, with lightning speed, Cecil ripped the sword from its sheath, swinging it in a blindingly fast horizontal arc. A blade of holy light burst from the sword and sliced through the air at the Dark Knight.

At the same time, the Dark Knight thrust his sword forward, sending a wave of dark energy hurtling at the Paladin.

The two powers, light and darkness, collided in the space between them and neutralized each other, dissipating into nonexistence.

A split-second after, Cecil let out a fierce cry and hurtled himself, sword ready, at the Dark Knight, who raised his own sword in anticipation.

The battle had begun.

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Ten minutes into the fight, both Cecil and the Dark Knight were showing no signs of fatigue, and also no signs of finishing any time soon. Palom caught himself yawning. While he knew it had to be dishonorable, if not at least inappropriate, to show any signs of boredom during such an event, but neither side of this competition was winning. Since the start, it had been a complete and utter stalemate.

Each attack that Cecil threw at the was parried. Likewise, every strike the Dark Knight attempted was turned aside. Each combatant drew from his respective power of light or darkness and unleashed fearsome attacks that would have annihilated a regular person. And like the first pair of blade-flash attacks that began the battle, each of the devastating attacks cancelled the other.

As the battle hit the twenty-minute mark, both fighters were still going strong. Neither had wounded the other. But Porom and Tellah were getting worried. They knew that one of the fighters, whether or not it turned out to be Cecil, should have gained the advantage by now.

Palom was just getting bored. He yawned again, and this time he didn't bother to hide it. Porom bopped him on the head.

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Cecil screamed in frustration as he delivered a mighty blow that would have severed a man, only to have it turned away like all the others. He tried another blade-flash attack - he had done it enough times by now to be able to release it in an instant - but the Dark Knight sent out yet another dark wave and nullified it. Cecil had barely enough time to bring up his sword to defend against a sudden fierce onslaught from the Dark Knight.

As they battled up and down the room, Cecil began to realize an important aspect of his opponent. He knew, with increasing certainty, what his enemy truly was. Every time Cecil blocked one of the Dark Knight's attacks, he could feel it, not only in his arms as they absorbed the strikes, but in his soul. He could feel the darkness within him, striking at his own soul, combating against the holy light that now filled it. In addition, whenever his attacks were blocked by the Dark Knight, he could feel the holy power within him slashing out at the darkness.

Cecil now knew that the Dark Knight he was facing was nothing more than a manifestation of his inner torments. How fitting that it should choose to present itself as a Dark Knight, Cecil thought ruefully as he blocked yet another blow, feeling the tremor of his soul as it warded off the identical attack from the darkness within him.

As the fight streched on, minute by minute, Cecil was growing desperate. He knew that if he didn't conquer the darkness soon, it would consume him whole. This thought alone drove him on. His strikes became more savage. So did the Dark Knight's. He moved faster than he ever thought he could. The Dark Knight kept right up with him.

Cecil screamed again, but this time, it was a scream of pure fury and hatred. His mind burned with the single, dominating presence of one single thought:

I WILL DESTROY THE DARKNESS!!!!!!

He reached into his soul to draw out more power, enough power to blast the manifestation of his evils into oblivion.

There was no power.

Panicking, he searched furitively, not truly beliving that it was gone. But indeed, it was.

"LOOK OUT!!!" Porom screamed.

On instinct, Cecil jumped to the side, and a huge wave of evil power zoomed past his head, almost taking it off in the process.

He scrambled to his feet, still searching inside himself for the holy power he needed, but with the growing resignation of the fact that it was not there. He wondered if it was a limited quantity, and had been used up.

At the same time, he realized that the dark wave that had nearly beheaded him was many times larger than all the previous ones.

It was bad enough that he had lost his own power, but now his darkness had even more?

The balance of power between the two combatants had shifted. Cecil knew that if he didn't do something to tip the scale in his favor, he was going to lose this fight . . .

. . . and the darkness would have his soul.

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P.S. That was fun! I didn't think I could write action sequences. Thanks to the few reviewers that have given me feedback. Your positive criticism has motivated me greatly, and I think that writing fanfics may develop into a serious hobby! Thanks, again. Chapter 3 in a week or so, after finals. (Da-da-duuuuuuummm...)