Ragnar sighs loudly, droops shoulders, then shrugs
I don't know why I should even try, there doesn't seem to be any reviews lately.
Oh well, I'm still writing this fic only for fun.
Anyway, this chapter is the beginning of version 2 of this fanfic. I figured that if I kept up with the first version, my fic would simply fall apart at the seams. So, I removed the original chapters 21 through 26 and started all over again at this point.
If you wanna know what those old chapters contained, please tell me and I will post them in a different name. However, they are no longer considered as part of this fic.
So, enough said. On with the fic!!!
I'm starting to hate that phrase . . . /e1
Oh yeah, you can find me in pRO Odin server as ShadowEyes Assassin or BlackRep Rogue. You can PM me if you wanna . . . I might have something you might like to trade for.
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RAGNAROK ONLINE FANFIC
Version 2
TRANSGRESSIONS OF FATEBy: RAGNAR (that really is my name)
Chapter 21: The First KeyWhere am I?
He can barely move his arms. In fact, he didn't think he could move his fingers. Beneath the weight of his body he felt the familiar grainy feel of the Sograt Desert's crystalline sands.
How did I get here?
A flash of his latest memory hit him.
He remembered being driven insane by the Doppelganger's magic that was surging through his body.
He can vaguely recall almost wiping them all out. Or was it being almost destroyed by them?
Trying to get up sent jolts of extreme pain all over his body. His mouth worked to let out a scream, but for some reason, his throat was locked in a way.
His body dropped against the paradoxically cool desert sand under the scorching midday sun. He hardly believed that he was alive. Somehow, he was alive.
"Jarade . . ."
It was a voice. Someone is calling him.
He wanted to turn his head around to find its source, but he couldn't.
Who's there?
Light surrounded him. It was both warm and comforting, as it was bright.
"Hold on."
The voice sounded familiar.
"Please."
Yes . . . he heard it before. From a girl . . . what was her name again?
Michelle . . . that's it, that was her name. But how did she . . .?
Get here? Why would he wonder how the girl got here? Girl? What was her age again?
Jarade forced his thoughts back together. This was no time to lose his sanity. Or did he already lose it?
It didn't matter now. He already sensed the black void of death swallowing him.
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Michelle was on her knees using all her energy in just trying to keep Jarade's heart from stopping.
The matyr she met in the desert culverts was lying on its ease just beside her, watching her trying to Heal the Assassin. It tilted its head and whined as if to complain that she was taking too long.
She was still uneasy around the matyr. When she met it down at the culverts, the shadow-enshrouded dog seemed to be guiding her out to the surface. How the matyr was able to climb up a ten-foot ladder was beyond her though.
When she got to the surface, she found Jarade's unconscious body lying under the desert sun with his own venom was slowly eating him away.
"One of the best solutions to a tough problem is pounding the living shit out of it. When the problem seems to be gone . . . pound it some more until you really are sure."
Her cousin's voice echoed in her head as she was desperately tried to Heal Jarade. Kevin had a mouth as foul as Glast Heim's sewers, but he had a good heart. She couldn't help but smile at the Crusader's way of dealing with life.
The venom that coated Jarade seemed to resist her every attempt to purge it. The sticky, purple substance hissed and boiled as it dried up from the heat of her spell.
The matyr's whining made the atmosphere more tense. Michelle wanted to tell the creature to be quiet, but she knew of a matyr's temper, so she just kept on Healing Jarade as well as she could.
Her sweat mingled with her tears as she once again tried desperately to Heal a man that was halfway to death. Michelle wondered why she kept on crying. She thought she cast such habits away when she just turned ten. Maybe she started crying again when Morroc was overrun.
Michelle shook her thoughts back to the present situation. Jarade's wounds only ranged from some deep cuts and bruises. The biggest threat to his life was the angry purple mass that was sizzling away in the desert heat.
It was good that it was hotter than usual – the venom was quick to dry up, and because of it, Michelle's Healing became easier to perform.
After hours of constant Healing, Michelle was finally able to rid Jarade of all the venom. She grinned at the result of all her effort. In a way, she was grateful for her time in Morroc, her Healing skills have improved when Jarade came into her life.
Somehow, her vision seemed to blur. Funny, she wasn't crying. She suddenly noticed that her head was swimming.
That was when she realized that the desert heat was getting to her.
She fainted and fell over Jarade's unconscious form beneath the unforgiving Sograt sun.
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Jarade found himself in a strange place.
He remembered Michelle's voice calling for him back there. But then, he was awake at the time.
"This must be a dream then . . ." he told himself, "but I thought you're not supposed to know it's a dream until you're awake."
Suddenly, there was a loud dog's bark behind him. Jarade turned around and then the whole place turned into a fog enshrouded night. At the distance, menacing, glowing red eyes pierced the fog.
Jarade tried to snap out Rage's blades but found that he was stripped of anything that can be used as a weapon.
"Really Priega, do think that fighting would be nescessary?"
It was a woman's voice . . .
The scenery changed once more and the fog disappeared the same way it flees from the afternoon sun. He almost threw up when he realized that he was wading knee-deep in blood.
The blood welled up into an unrecognizable red lump six feet ahead of him. Then, as it grew towards the same height as Jarade's neck, the blood sluiced off to reveal a strikingly beautiful woman, more precisely, a strikingly beautiful and naked woman. If the situation wasn't so bizarre, he might have enjoyed the sight.
But still . . .
She had silky black hair that fell all the way down to the small of her back. As she went closer to him, Jarade saw luscious red lips that curved slightly into a smile. Her tilted black eyes regarded him with enough heat to make his blood boil. He had to remind himself to breath when he noticed her elegant and slow saunter towards him. Her skin seemed to glow like the moon even when there was no light present.
Her hand on his face sent waves of heat up and down his spine. Her voice sounded like velvet on the skin. "Priega, the time is coming when you are to face your destiny."
Jarade swallowed a lump on his throat before answering. "My name is Jarade."
Her short giggle was sweet and hot at the same time. "Of course, Priega, that is the name this body holds for you. But I don't need to tell you that, Priega, you already know your true identity."
Pain surged through his brain when memories were jammed right into his brain. The woman's eyes filled his vision along with overlapping images of death and destruction. Jarade tried to pull away from her grip but his feet were rooted to the blood-soaked ground.
The images spanned from ages upon ages of war and carnage. Ranging from battles between great powers and weapons all the way down to a mother killing her child.
The woman spoke and her voice boomed inside his skull. "You were there in all that, Priega. You were witness, observer, and executioner to all the deeds that I showed you. You, Lord Priega, you are the one who decides who is to live and who is to die in this world. You, Mistress Kieria, and Master Sei'Gash. The three of you are the true inheritors of this world."
Despite the pain, Jarade found the strength to speak "Who are you?!"
The pain stopped when their lips pressed upon each other. Jarade's head swam with all the emotions, both strange and familiar, that ran through him. Her lips were soft and warm upon his.
With all the willpower that he can muster, he pushed her away. Jarade's voice was laced with panic and fear. "I don't know you! And I am not a monster! Leave me alone!"
There was a hint of hurt in the woman's eyes. Jarade must have known her from somewhere because somehow, he felt something akin to guilt for having rejected her.
The blood around them started to boil. The woman's hands were clenched and her eyes were filled with rage. "The two of us are meant for each other, Lord Priega. Nothing and no one will stand between us, especially that poor excuse of a woman that you keep for your company!"
"Leave Michelle out of this!"
When the woman laughed, the earth shook and split under his feet. Beneath him was a great chasm that was going to swallow him. Jarade quickly stretched out his hand and grabbed unto the ledge.
The woman loomed above him. Her figure was shrouded in darkness now. "You are mine, Priega. You were always mine!" she hissed.
Her hand gripped his outstretched forearm and squeezed it. Jarade screamed himself hoarse from the woman's unworldly grip. His hand lost all strength and released the now rocky the ledge. Terror filled him when she finally let go. The darkness of the abyss beneath him grew larger as he fell.
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The dream erased itself from his memory and he woke up to the sound of wagons. Jarade was unable to move and can only see the things that were directly above him.
Now and then, sunlight broke through the wagon's cover and shone at his face. Judging by the heat and brightness, it was somewhere around the middle of the afternoon. The air slightly carried the smell of live pecopecos. Sometimes, one of the birds would let out a squawk, adding to the noise of the caravan that he was apparently in.
Jarade still couldn't move, so he waited until the caravan stopped for the night.
A Priest with a very long scar that ran from the left side of his forehead all the way to the right of his neck entered the wagon and placed his hands over Jarade's chest. The hardness on the man's face fitted more into a Knight's armor rather than a Priest's robes.
Strange, Jarade never saw a Priest with a scar before, much less one this notable.
Heat shot up his heart all the way to his brain when the Priest hit him with a very powerful Heal spell.
Jarade gasped and quickly sat up, finally fully awake.
"My apologies for not having attended to you sooner, Assassin. The girl required more attention." The Priest's voice was deep and reverberating.
"Is she alright?" Jarade asked.
"She will be fine, I believe." There was a hint of a smile on the corners of the Priest's lips.
Jarade tried to get up despite the pain that ran through his body. "I need to see her. Where is she?"
The Priest laid a restraining hand that pushed him back to bed. "You aren't that well yet, Jarade. Get some sleep, it will be good for you."
Before he could protest, Jared felt his eyelids growing heavy with each passing second.
Damn Priest and his spell! He mentally cursed.
Before he could even add to that last thought, sleep overcame him.
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Elonis surveyed the camp from the tree stump that he was sitting on. His left arm was still hardly controllable, but at least there was sensation at the tip of his fingers. Prontera must have trained their Priests well if they were able to patch his arm back.
Monique stood beside him, her bow reflecting the firelight. "How do you think those two got into the middle of the desert like that? More importantly, how did the enemy take over Morroc? The place was a damn fortress! Not to mention it has the Thieves' and Assassin's Guild to guard it."
Monique's question was too common within the group of refugees that he was leading right now. They were headed for Morroc to warn the city but found out that the place was now overrun with the undead. Not only that, the place was literally enshrouded in darkness. Not even the Hunters were able to see through the damn thing.
When she felt that he wasn't answering anytime soon, Monique asked another question. "So tell me again why we didn't go to Payon first?"
Question? More like an order . . .
Elonis exhaled loudly and replied in a tired tone of voice. "Because the way to the city was blocked by a friggin' army! Do you think that all of us can take that much on? Besides, one of your Hunter friends sent a message with his hawk right?"
Monique flopped down on the ground beside him. It was obvious she was tired from the day's journey.
"You should get some rest, Nikki." Elonis said.
A small grin appeared on the Huntress's face before she spoke. "I'll sleep when you stop calling me 'Nikki'."
He couldn't help but smile, "Then you'll never sleep again."
It has been a long day. The campfire danced before their eyes before Monique fell asleep while holding his arm.
Tomorrow, they would head northeast toward the Forest of Elders. Elonis didn't know if the Elder Willows there would welcome them, but he had to try. It was too risky to take the south route towards Prontera because the undead army might come up from behind them even before the group could lay eyes on the city walls.
Elonis awkwardly carried Monique away from the open and into her wagon.
Aedis seemed to glare at him from her perch when she saw that he was touching her mistress. Her short, shrill cry seemed to warn him not to touch Monique in any funny way.
Damn bird.
It wasn't a secret that he and the Huntress were in some sort of relationship. It was just that they were not exactly . . . friendly . . . to each other on most occasions.
He placed Monique on the makeshift bed and covered her with a blanket.
"Good night, Monique." He said as he lifted the wagon's flap, "sweet dreams."