Unknown Encounter

The ebony sky above was dotted with diamond stars and the centerpiece of the night – the full moon – cast light across the emerald fields of grass below. The air was moving slight and peacefully, the only noise around the sound of hooves beating against the soft earth. A chilly breeze blew over the two travelers and Kite's aquamarine eyes looked over the vast fields that surrounded Mac Anu for miles and miles.

Shifting in the saddle of his chestnut mare, he turned to look at Orca. It seemed that the Descendants of Fianna were immune to normal things, like sleep, which made Kite's eyes narrow in envy. The legendary warrior was sitting in a proud position on the back of his majestic white stallion, one hand clutching his sword, the other on his horse's reigns and his dark blue eyes were focused on the ever growing ruins in front of him.

The Aqua Field's name came from a now-dead tribe of nomads who had worshiped the ancient God of Water. They had once made their way on the vast, grassy plains of Delta and many of their shrines and underground turrets still lined the countryside and sparse mountain valleys. The ruins of the Aqua Field – which were cut underground and had been a home to thieves before and after the empire had come about – had once been a holy temple for those nomads.

In the early days of the imperial order, bounty hunters had eliminated the threat of bandit raids but as the monarchy changed from King Aperion to his nephew, Ito, it became a dictatorship. Numerous dukes had taken control over the five countries and only ending at the coastline of the Ghost Islands, where the island queen had slaughtered any incoming island. But the hatred of thieves and the well trained Imperial Army had spelled bad news from the remaining bandit tribes, one of which Kite's father had controlled.

As the entrance of the temple ruins drew close, Orca dismounted his horse and tied the reigns to one of the dead torches marking the door. Yawning widely, Kite followed suit with his mare. Orca drew his sword; the majestic blade cast a bright glow across the ground, illuminating the dark field and making Kite's own daggers look like nothing more then kitchen knives.

"Let's just get this over with," said Kite quickly, "It's freezing out here, and couldn't this have waited until morning?"

"Scared? Amazing, the great and mighty Crimson Raid's son is afraid of a little old bunch of monsters," said Orca with a sly, demented smile, causing Kite's face to go as red as his birthmarks.

"I'm not afraid! It feels like winter out here! Unlike some people," he said with a nasty look at his friend, "I get cold." Orca chuckled still and walked down the stone steps that led into the darkness of the temple. While his armor clanged on every step, Kite following soundlessly behind him. Both of the thief's daggers were clutched in his gloved hands, his eyes flickering into every corner of the each one square rooms that lined the temple's insides.

Odd markings were painted on the stone walls, which (Kite realized with a shudder) were painted on with human blood. Cobwebs hung from the ceilings, skeletons of both monster and human kin cluttered around the floors. It wasn't uncommon for one of Orca's metal boots to crush a bone with a nasty crack that split the sickly silence unpleasantly. A few rooms into the dungeon, a stone wall – carved with inscriptions in a dead language that Kite knew he'd never be able to understand – was revealed to be blocking their passage further on.

With a pleased, internal sigh that he dared not utter physically, Kite made to turn back and rush towards the wonderfully free and warmer field above but Orca simply brought his knee to his leg and kicked the door with his heel. Numerous cracks appeared upon the center of the impact and he dug his sword into one large one, heaving until the stone gave way and fell to dust on the ground. A strong smell of must and decay reached their nostrils, floating out from behind the now-freed rooms beyond.

"Twilight Dragon help us, it smells like a plague happened here," said Orca, coughing slightly and kicking aside lose bits of stone so he could walk further on. Kite frowned slightly but made no complaints as he followed the swordsman inside the dark room, rubbing the hilt of a dagger nervously.

It was deathly quiet inside, not that it had been any nosier before. Kite should have expected it; after all, these rooms haven't been used in decades. An idea hit him suddenly like a sack of bricks and Kite called out to Orca, his voice echoing in the emptiness as though dozens of Kites had spoken at once.

"If there was a stone wall back there, why would the lost people be in here?" he said cheerily, praying they'd leave because of this. The whole dungeon gave him an eerie feeling, like hundreds of people were watching him and waiting . . .

Orca laughed lightly, his voice revealing his outlook on their situation quite well. "Nice try kid, lots of monsters can travel through stone. Maybe even bring people with them, like the thing we're clearly going to deal with." He flashed an annoying smile in Kite's general direction, eyes glinting ominously in the darkness.

By now they had reached a crossroads, splitting left and right down corridors that looked equally grim and ancient. Kite had the unpleasant feeling that they were being watched, his eyes flickering around unnecessarily quickly. He turned to look at Orca and found the warrior had stiffened up like a statue, his sword arm steady and eyes looking around slowly, as if making note of every single detail of their present location. Kite made a step forward, about to ask Orca what was going on but he held a fist to stop Kite's advance. It looked like Orca wasn't even breathing.

It happened in a flash.

A ghostly girl darted from the western exit, long white hair flowing behind her like a cape and her dress rippling around a doll-like body. A white cloak was tied around her neck, held in place by a silver brooch and her colorless skin was the exact same shade as her pale hair. Her large eyes were twilight blue, a shade of color so unnervingly bright it seemed impossible to exist, and her dress was made of a shimmering material that didn't stay one color for more then a second. She was hovering in the air like some sort of ethereal spirit and, despite her white hair; she only looked eight or nine years old.

Kite's jaw dropped, amazed that such a hauntingly beautiful thing could exist but his shock quickly turned to horror as his stomach churned in fear.

Flying fast behind the girl was a demonic creature, made of what appeared to be rotting flesh melted together. It had no face of sorts and its legs ended in dagger pointed tips. Its arm segments and legs were not connected to the chest, which bore an unknown red insignia. Curved horns were on top of its head and in its right . . . (Kite was reluctant to call it a 'hand') was a long red staff, which looked as if it was made of crystallized blood. The wand ended with a large circle, a thin segment cutting through the middle of the circle and a second line cut out of the right side, turning the circle to a Q.

Both the creature and the girl gave no notice that Kite and Orca were there and they made no sound as they cut across the corridor to the eastern exit of the corridor. The event happened so fast Kite could have missed it simply by blinking. He swallowed, feeling as though a lump the side of his fist was caught in his throat and he turned to Orca in shock. "What WAS that?" he asked hoarsely and softly, "Who was that girl?"

It was a moment or two before Orca answered in a voice as hoarse and raspy as Kite's own. "No idea. But . . . it shouldn't have been here. No, not at all. This is bad . . . really bad . . ." He gave little notice that he wished to pursue the subject and Kite let him drop it, trying to ignore the millions of unanswered questions floating across the surface of his mind.

When Orca made a turn right, intent on following the girl and monster, Kite followed with little want. Though the girl had been . . . no earthly word could have described her correctly, he had no desire to ever see that monster ever again. However, all that met their gaze in the room the girl and her antagonist had entered were the partially decayed bones of a goblin and two empty chests. There was no other exit.

"Let's go," said Orca crisply and turned. He was much tenser, every mussel in his arms taunt and sword clasped in a white-knuckled death grip beneath his metal gauntlets. The thief rubbed his thumb absently against the hilt of his dagger, knowing it would prove very little help against that abomination with the wand if they had to fight it. Never the less, Kite followed Orca soundlessly out of the room and towards the other doorway at the end of the hall.

The next room had the crushed statue of some god in the center of a deep ditch, the arcane carvings on the limestone idol obscured by dust and mildew. In front of the trench was an empty chest, clearly once elaborate but now ruined like the idol. There were no clues, no evidence as to where the two figures had come from, or even the children that they had come searching for. Kite's stomach was still churning, making him feel very ill, his mind ablaze with questions.

"There's nothing left here. We have to get back to town, I need to talk to Balmung about this . . ." said Orca, his voice firm and almost a monotone. His face lacked any emotion, making him look both fearless and intimidating at the same time.

Kite turned to run out of the dungeon, cursing himself thousands of times over for ever mentioning this demonic place. As soon as both men had left the statue's final resting place, Kite found himself starring – not at the sturdy stone floor of the dungeon's floor – but at the bloodstained ground of some sort of nightmarish hell.

It was a single piece of land suspended in the air by seemingly nothing. Buildings, twisted and distorted, hovered in the air around them, similar islands of ichor-stained land around the one he was standing. There was nothing else in sight – no life, no exit – and the sky was a strange gray-green-brown and a heavy smell of death and decay in the air. Feeling as though he was going to be sick, Kite closed his eyes for a moment and turned sharply when he heard his companion curse low beneath his breath.

Orca gave a mighty swing of his sword, electrical magic coursing through the metal, his teeth grit and eyes flashing in horrific fear. Swallowing heavy, Kite tried to ignore the prickling at the back of his neck. He felt, again, like something was watching him from every angle.

There was a sound almost like bell-chimes, if the bell in question were made of glass. Kite turned, laying his eyes once again upon the girl with the doe-like eyes of an eerie shade of blue. She was hovering above the ground so that her head was level with his, her eyes both scared and sorrowful and her face set in a pathetic sort of frown. She didn't seem to be breathing, though it was hard to tell with the constant floating of her dress. She didn't look at Kite and stared straight at Orca, eyes widening and then narrowing to tiny slits.

Orca took a few steps towards her, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. "It's you . . ." he said, in shock and gave a low bow of politeness to the girl. She didn't make any sort of movement. Kite was confused, even more so when the girl finally spoke.

Her voice was soft and mysterious, heavily saddened but like music from the same sort of bell that had signaled her arrival. It echoed strangely around them and a thick, leather bound book appeared in front of her. It had an odd golden seal on the cover; ruins on the leather binding that seemed to swirl constantly so that they never stayed one shape too long.

"Take this," she breathed, almost desperately, "Please, take this. There's no time . . . please."

"What . . . ?" asked Orca as the book floated over towards him. He took it with his free hand, which seemed to sag under the weight of the leather tome. "What is this?" he asked again, looking into the girl's large eyes that held Kite captive.

"A great force," she said, now speaking in jerky breaths as though she didn't have enough time to say it slow, "The power is holds can bring forth either salvation . . . or . . . destruction . . . at the whim of the user."

Orca seemed to snap out of something at those words, since he took a single step backwards, away from the girl. "You're . . . his . . ." He was silenced by the girl holding up a single, pale hand from beneath her rainbow shawl. Her eyes had widened beyond their already large size in fear, the pupils contracting to the point of disappearing into the sea of pale blue. She hovered higher into the air, her form becoming misted at the edges. "It's coming . . ." she whispered hoarsely before vanishing into the dark air.

This only brought up more questions into Kite's already aching brain. He turned around, Orca turning to him and shoving the book into the thief's arms. It was fairly heavy, but it seemed to waver between weights just as the symbols on its spine and on its lock changed constantly.

"You hold onto this," he hissed and Kite grudgingly tucked it under his arm. It constantly slipped out of its perch so that Kite had to switch both his daggers into his left hand to hold the book with his right.

Just as Kite was about to ask Orca just what the hell was going on, there was another sort of sound, this one like cracking bone, the demonic creature came forth merely a few feet from where Orca stood. It turned its ugly, square head around the area and, finally, turned it to Kite and Orca. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed to have eyes or, to be more accurate, eyeholes of deep black.

It slammed its staff onto the ground, causing its body parts to merge together for a moment before separating again. It pointed its staff at Orca, seemingly waiting for the Descendent of Fianna to brandish his blade. The man turned his head for a split second at Kite and the thief saw his friend had a sort of desperate anguish in his eyes.

"Run, it'll kill you!" yelled Orca, running with his sword raised and alight with electricity. Kite ground his teeth in anger, wishing for a moment he was better then a lowlife thief and an actual warrior that could help instead of standing uselessly.

The monster had ungodly speed. It avoided every one of Orca's furious blade swipes and magical attacks, retaliating with one of its own strikes, each one almost ten times stronger. Orca roared in fury, slamming the blade to collide with the ruby of the staff. A hollow clang echoed throughout the air and the monster gave Orca a single, sightless glare. If it had a mouth, it probably would have laughed.

It spun around in the air and slammed its staff down, shattering the blade in two as though it were butter. Defenseless, Orca raised a hand to summon something but the demon's staff smashed against his ribs with the sound of breaking bone. The creature waved its long fingered hand, each separate section of flesh cracking and moving further apart, and flung its staff forward. With some sort of unknown power, the monster seemed to lift Orca into the air, pinning the warrior to the wand even as he struggled. Kite could only stare in horror as the monster hovered forward, holding out a hand.

A strange, glass-like thing appeared around its wrist. It looked like pieces of a church window combined together in a vague bracelet shape. Whatever the thing was, it gave an aura of power that made his head feverishly woozy. As Orca struggled further to get off of his prison, the palm of the demon's hand shot a beam of white energy at Orca, which hit him full in the chest without a sound.

The staff disappeared to return to the monster's hand and Orca was flung backwards, landing face down on the ground. No physical wounds were visible as Kite checked and Orca spoke in a dying voice, full of panic.

"No . . . I . . . it . . . It wasn't supposed to be this way . . . I'm sorry . . . Get out of here!" His body fell limp, barely breathing. For a moment, he thought that Orca was dead. Kite stared in horror, both the book and his daggers dropping to the ground. Then his frightful, blue gaze turned to the monster. The glass like apparition was still on its wrist and the white glow was growing in its palm.

"No . . . "Before the light could hit Kite, a white staff – bearing two white rings around the tip Kite had only ever seen once before – slammed to the ground and let off shock waves in the air. The monster appeared to be blinded by the light of the staff and vanished in a few chimes of its evil sounding crack.

Kite's eyes shut tightly as his spinning mind gave way to darkness and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious in instants.

A woman, draped in a long white skirt and jacket, her eyes hidden by a white headdress and her long blond hair flowing around her neck, hovered to the ground and retrieved the staff with a simple jerk of her wrist. She turned her sightless gaze to the two unconscious men, a thin smirk of a smile tracing around her dark purple lips.

"It seems your son will need to carry on your legacy, O Crimson Raid," she said with a small laugh and tossed back a few locks of her hair, "As well as the job of a fallen hero. Looks like he has his work cut out for him." The woman waved her hand lazily. The two bodies and the girl's book vanished in a flutter of white and silver sparks.

The woman then turned towards the sky of the demonic place, watching as it changed from evil gray-black to the starry sky of night as she teleported to her base of operations. "It begins again."

". . . Poor boy. . ."

"What if he doesn't wake up like Orca?"

"Silence, I think he's stirring."

Kite's sore mind flickered back to consciousness with a sharp, unpleasant jolt. His vision was blurred for a few minutes before returning to a clarity he could stand. The room he was in was blurred and filled with autumn sunlight that reflected off of a marble floor. He wasn't in that dungeon, or that place with that monster, but the hospital back in Mac Anu. He recognized the skyline outside the window, with the winding canals and clear blue sky. His head was pounding in pain, even as he breathed in relief.

"Twilight Dragon, thank you," said a woman's soft and gentle voice. He turned to stare at the healer. It was an elderly woman, her hair dark gray and pulled into a bun. She had pale blue markings around her eyes, rather like cerulean flames, and her small form was draped in the pale, silver embroidered robes of a certified imperial healer. There were two other people behind her, a young woman with wavy blonde hair and a crimson dress and a man with the leather armor and saber issued by the Deltan branch of the Imperial military.

"What happened?" he asked quickly and sharply. The sound echoed in his sore head, resembling a hangover in a sense.

"One of the messengers coming into town found you and Orca just outside the city limits," explained the blonde woman, Alicia if he remembered correctly. Her voice was very soft, "You've been unconscious for three days. What happened out in the field?"

"There were . . . a monster . . . and a girl . . ." said Kite, noting how raspy his voice sounded. He hadn't even been hurt in that dungeon.

"A monster? You mean like a goblin or something?" asked the healer in disbelief, gripping her rowan staff with long fingers. He could understand her disbelief; it was a little hard to think the legendary Orca of the Azure Sea could have been beaten by a common goblin.

"No, this was different. It had a red wand and it did something to Orca . . . ." His throat constricted slightly and he had to speak through a hard lump afterwards. "It was chasing a girl with white hair . . ."

"Your story had numerous holes," said the soldier, his voice gruff. His dark red eyes, so very like the color of the creature's wand, were narrowed in distrust.

"Cyan, shush!" snapped Alicia harshly, eyes narrowed as well and glaring at the man. Kite noticed there was a sword belted on her waist, as if for precaution.

"This monster, did Orca kill it?" asked the healer, keeping her voice calm and soft.

Kite shook his head, but stopped as it only made him feel worse. "No, it . . ." The healer seemed to know what he was going to say and held up a hand to stop the words from coming out.

"Lad, Orca's in a coma, we were afraid you were to. He's not responding to anything I do."

I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.

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