Tales of Harmonia

Stains of Darkness

"What did you say!" Shard shouted at Raven as they exited the tavern. "The Pope? Here?"

Raven chuckled quietly and smoothly nodded his head. "That is indeed what I said. Apparently he ran by not long before you arrived."

"How do you know that?" Audrey inquired, looking curiously at her companion. "You couldn't have seen him yourself… otherwise you would have captured him, right?"

"Of course I would," retorted Raven, looking annoyed and perturbed. "That is my duty, after all. I only heard it from a group of people who happened to pass by the tavern a few minutes ago."

"Apparently," Genis cut in, "he looked quite flustered and wasn't wearing his traditional robes. The people only recognized him because they had seen him during one of his visits to the various towns and cities."

Shareen looked unconvinced as they walked. She crossed her arms and simply said, "It sound suspicious to me. But, if it was him, then I think we all know exactly what this means."

"Yes," Shard continued with a nod. "This is the direct link we were looking for."

Audrey nodded seriously and added, "In all probability, it is. There's only about a 0.01 chance that he was here for a reason completely unrelated to the Hand of Beatrix."

Shard stepped forward and clenched his fists, looking energetically towards the horizon. "Then let us return to base. We must strike while the iron is hot."

---

Back at the Fujibayashi house, things had become chaotic with the arrival of the party. Their announcement that the Pope had indeed been seen fleeing from Kilika was as close to proof of his connection with the Hand of Beatrix as they could hope for without interrogating him themselves – and that is exactly what they intended to do now, to dispel any conceivable doubt about his ties with them, or about his intentions.

With an air of excitement and merriment, the forces of Zephyr and Mizuho worked together to prepare for the journey. Having learned from their previous experiences, they were much more prepared for an infiltration of the Glass Cathedral now: they would go as a large group, and then several of them would break off to find and deter the remaining two members of the Papal Trinity, while the remaining members of the group would find and capture the Pope himself. Shard was designated to stay behind as the leader of the operation: he would be in contact with everyone through Shareen's Guardian cards, and he would call all the shots when it came to attacking and withdrawing.

With the preparations complete, the group sat around the table one last time to discuss the battle plan.

"I want to make one thing perfectly clear," announced Shard with an air of leadership and force. "When the Pope is in captivity, and I give the word, you will all withdraw immediately. We cannot risk fighting with the Papal Trinity for any longer than necessary – they are too powerful for that. Doing so would only cause unnecessary loss."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Most of them had seen the power of the Papal Trinity for themselves, and they knew that they would most likely not be able to defeat them outright. Furthermore, Halis and Marisa would probably be even more difficult opponents now that they knew what they were up against. The odds were, therefore, quite heavily stacked against the allied forces.

"We must now decide who will go where. There are seven of you, and so unfortunately I cannot evenly divide our forces," Shard explained. "I am inclined to send three of you to capture the Pope; there is the possibility that he will be attended to by Sonia, the strange man we encountered in his office, and possible the other members of the Black Five. There is more safety in numbers. Therefore, three of you – Juna, Shareen, and Arthur, I think – will go to capture the Pope, and—"

"Four of us. Don't forget about me," a voice interrupted. Everyone turned toward the stairs to see Aidan walking down, already dressed in the new suit of chainmail armor that had been given to him by one of Shard's attendants. The assistant had called it a "special" suit of armor, but did not explain how it was so. His spear was strapped to his back and he looked very ready for action.

"Aidan!" Juna called, standing up and looking both excited and happy. She rushed over to the stairs and helped him down, although he insisted that he didn't need any help. "So you're feeling much better, then?"

"Never felt better, actually," Aidan replied with a grin. He was still rubbing at his shoulder, but only Juna and Arthur seemed to pay any attention to that little habit.

"Aidan," Shard said with sobering solemnity, "please sit. There is something we must discuss with you."

Everyone exchanged grave glances immediately, knowing precisely what Shard meant. It was time to explain, once and for all, what had happened on the night that Aidan and Juna infiltrated the Hand of Beatrix base. The telling would not be pleasant, and it would definitely be a difficult story to take in, but it had to be done immediately. Shard gazed with heavy eyes at Aidan, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

---

"Oh, please!" Aidan exclaimed with an incredulous laugh. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Juna looked up at him solemnly. "I know it's a lot to take in, but—"

"It's absurd, that's what it is!" Aidan interrupted. "People turning into werewolves… come on! That's the stuff of fairy tales."

Genis fixed a sobering, reprimanding stare on Aidan. "You can keep saying that, but it won't make it any less true," he pointed out. "We have told you what has happened. Your denial is an expected response, but you will overcome it."

Aidan rolled his eyes, showing even slight disrespect towards Genis for the first time. "Be realistic. The werewolves are only mentioned in the scriptures of Martel. So I guess you think that, since I supposedly transformed, the world must be ending, right?"

Nobody responded, except with uneasy stares at each other. When Aidan saw this, he cocked his head back and looked at them as though he was seriously reconsidering their sanity. "Guys… please tell me you're joking. You don't actually believe that crap, do you?"

"That 'crap' is coming true right before our very eyes," Arthur pointed out with due annoyance. He fixed a cold stare on Aidan which made the boy feel unnerved, shifting uneasily in his seat. "Whether you like to believe it or not, everything the scriptures say is coming true very rapidly. The bruise on your shoulder is another sign of proof."

Instinctively, Aidan grabbed at his left shoulder and rubbed it through the chainmail. He didn't actually know that the pain in his shoulder was caused by the bruise in question, but somehow his hand felt drawn to it when Arthur mentioned it, as though he was covering up a hideous scar to avoid being ridiculed.

"B…bruise?" he asked in a shaky voice. "What bruise?"

"The crescent-moon shaped bruise on your left shoulder," answered Juna quietly.

"It is the mark of Fenrisulfr," Arthur continued.

Aidan looked agape with shock, and was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat. He stared for a very long moment at Arthur, drifting in and out of the belief that this had to be a dream. Every logical inch of his being denied the accusations vehemently, but secluded shreds of him were considering the possibility that it was true.

"But… Fenrisulfr is…."

The truth was that Aidan knew exactly who Fenrisulfr was. The White Wolf, defender of mankind and yet instigator of the War of Ends… Ragnarok. It was an impossible task for him to freely admit that he must be Fenrisulfr, the entity responsible for the end of the world according to the scriptures of Martel. Even considering the remote possibility of such seemed absurd – and far too traumatizing. Aidan rose from his seat and began pacing about the room.

"That's crazy… I didn't do anything… I mean… I can't have started the end of… no way!" He looked up with newfound resolve, but it dimmed almost instantly. "No way…. right?"

Juna stood up and moved over to him. She rested her hands on his shoulders. "It's not that we blame you for it, Aidan. This is the hand which Destiny dealt. But…. if you hadn't transformed, I – we – would likely be dead right now."

"But….!" Aidan's body was shaking fiercely with fright and astonishment. "But I don't remember any of it… that means I wasn't in control… who knows what might happen next time? The werewolves aren't all nice according to the scriptures… maybe I'll go berserk next time, and…"

Juna grasped tightly and shook his body back and forth in a wild attempt to snap him back to reality. "Aidan! Don't you dare say things like that! No matter what happens, you're still you!"

Arthur looked up from the table. "No matter what happens, you're still you…" he whispered to himself with a slight smile. "The Amended Verses… Lloyd Irving."

The words seemed to have a profound effect on Aidan. He looked into Juna's eyes like a frightened child staring into the powerful, reassuring eyes of an older friend or role model. For a moment, he appeared completely dazed – an understandable reaction, considering what his mind was now being forced to process. "I'm… still me…" he repeated incredulously. Juna nodded her head and smiled.

"You'll always be you. Just remember that… okay?"

Aidan nodded, stupefied, as Juna walked back toward the table. He stood alone for the remainder of the meeting, completely removed from their conversation as he wandered through his own tormented mind, trying to piece together the huge change that had been so unfairly thrust upon him.

---

It was a calm, clear night in New Meltokio as the shadowy band of abductors arrived on its outskirts. Once again, they were prepared to sneak into the town by any means necessary and capture the Pope. It would very likely be considerably more difficult this time: they had been captured once, and the Papal Knights would not be so oblivious a second time.

As they approached the city gates, the group was surprised to find that they had been left wide open. This was indeed a rare and strange occurrence: the Pope always ordered the gates shut after nightfall for the general safety of the city. Either there had been a colossal mix-up tonight, or other, more devious forces were at work.

"It's very likely a trap," Genis cautioned as they slipped through the open gates. "Be on your guard."

This was a given. They were now entering enemy territory, and each and every one of them was a marked target for the Papal Knights. This was a risk they had to take. Because they had acted quickly, it was very likely that the Pope was still in New Meltokio. This meant that he had to be captured as quickly as possible; otherwise, he might escape again and rendezvous with Hand of Beatrix members in some other part of the world. This was, then, an all-or-nothing mission, a last-ditch effort to validate all their efforts thus far.

The silence in the darkened city streets did more to unnerve the group than calm them. Although it meant they did not have to sneak around patrols of iron-clad knights, it was also highly suspicious, and had all the makings of a trap. Each of them felt as though he was a foolish bear following the trail of berries left by a skilled hunter – and each of them only wished he would be able to turn the tables on that hunter before it was too late.

When they reached the grand doors of the Glass Cathedral, Audrey leaned against the wall and looked suspiciously at her comrades. "I don't like this. We haven't seen anyone since we've been here," she commented. "New Meltokio isn't exactly a party town, but there's usually some night activity…"

"I agree," Juna said. "Especially considering the Pope has no doubt ordered the knights on high alert for us. It is possible that he imposed a curfew on the townsfolk, but why not send out the knights in force to keep an eye out for us?"

Deep inside, everyone knew the answer: the Pope was laying a very obvious, but very effective trap. It was one he knew they would step into, fully aware of the risks, because the benefits were too great to pass up. Unfortunately, as they were all too well aware, he had the complete home court advantage.

"Well, let's get moving," Arthur said after a time. "The secret passage is this way, and—"

"We won't be using that this time," Juna interrupted.

At Arthur's confused expression, Juna explained that, after their last foray into the cathedral, the Pope or the Papal Trinity very likely ordered the passageway to be either on heavy guard at all times, or they had it sealed up completely to avoid further mishaps. Of course, nobody else knew any other secret passages into the building, so it was decided that they would simply use the front doors. Under normal circumstances, this would seem a dangerous and foolish move – but these were not normal circumstances. They were fully willing to push the Pope's trap as far as it would go; it merely remained to be seen whether they could pull their hands out of the snare in time.

---

Some time later, the group had entered the cathedral and split up into their respective groups. Although they had prepared themselves mentally and physically for the gauntlet of battles ahead, none came; there was not a single knightly soul to be found in the Glass Cathedral, either. As Genis and Audrey made their way down the dark tunnels, lit only by the ominous moonlight through the transparent roof overhead, they had their weapons drawn and looked around every corner for even the faintest glimmer of silver armor.

There was none. Every room and hallway was completely empty. It was almost as though the Pope wanted them to come right to him… but that didn't make any sense. Surely he would only allow them to go so far before springing the trap. Letting them come directly to his chamber seemed foolish. Nevertheless, that is where Genis and Audrey headed.

The group's orders had been perfectly clear: split up into your designated groups, and take alternate paths to the papal chambers. Engage the Papal Trinity and hold them off for as long as possible if you encounter them; otherwise, find your way to the chambers and help in the abduction. Juna, Arthur, Shareen, and Aidan were to head directly to the chambers, while the other two groups were to follow an alternate path. However, there was always the growing sense of worry that the Pope had anticipated their maneuver, and would move to counter it swiftly and decisively.

Their task was made all the more difficult by the fact that no written blueprints existed of the Glass Cathedral. They had to maneuver based entirely on Arthur's rudimentary directions, and what they themselves had gathered from sending spies into the tours of the cathedral. The result was a fairly detailed, but by no means perfect, map of the cathedral and their planned routes. Genis and Audrey stuck to their carefully, keeping their eyes open for either of the members of the Papal Trinity that might try to thwart them.

"I'm getting nervous," Audrey commented as they rounded another corner. "According to this map, we're not far from the papal chambers. The Pope wouldn't let us get that far, would he?"

Before Genis could answer, a disembodied voice broke the silence.

"An astute observation," it noted with a chuckle of amusement. Suddenly, a thin young man in a black, hooded cloak stepped forth from the shadows. He was immediately recognized as Halis, Judgment of the Papal Trinity. Pulling back his hood, the man revealed the wispy, crimson hair beneath. In his right hand, he held the ornate war-fan he had used against Genis in their last duel.

"Ah, it's that young upstart again," Genis taunted with an absentminded gaze. "Oh, what was your name again? Haley? No, that's more of a girl's name, isn't it…"

Halis looked unfazed by the insult. "You think you're quite something just because you won last time, don't you?"

Genis chuckled slightly and nodded his head. "I daresay I'm not too shabby."

Their opponent laughed coldly and threw the cloak back over his shoulders, allowing for full mobility. "Well then," he taunted, "since there are two of you… why don't we go best two out of three?"

Audrey grimaced and readied her ribbon. She didn't know exactly how she would combat someone like Halis. Genis had single-handedly dealt with him last time, but Halis seemed eerily confident in his abilities despite this. Also, her wound was still aching slightly, although Arthur had done a marvelous job of patching it up. Even magic cannot make a miracle out of mending bone and sewing flesh.

Genis took a step forward and brandished his kendama, looking with an interested glint in his eye at the confident opponent before him. "Very well. I wonder if you've learned from your previous failure," he considered.

Halis merely smirked, and powerful energy began flowing through his veins.

---

"I don't like this," Bartheo noted gruffly as he and Raven traversed the darkened hallways. His hands practically trembled, axes drawn, as they walked. "This place should be crawling with knights for me to cleave asunder… where are they?"

"Patience," Raven advised as he continued walking. He had not even drawn his weapon yet, and was looking considerably less agitated than Bartheo was. They certainly made a strange pair: tall, handsome soldier walking alongside stocky, muscular warrior. "I have a feeling you'll have all the fighting you can handle before long."

"Oh, dear brother!" a voice called out into the darkness in a strangely sweet tone. The next words came much more harshly: "How right you are."

Both fighters spun around to see Marisa standing suddenly behind them. Her long katana was already in hand, and she appeared to be sizing them up with a lustful, excited look in her eyes. She already knew fully well what Raven was capable of, but Bartheo was a welcome surprise to her, and she seemed delighted at the opportunity to test his abilities against her own.

Raven grinned darkly at the sight of his sister. "Marisa," he said in welcome, stepping forward as if in greeting. She smirked right back at him. "What a pleasure to see you again."

"Oh, but the pleasure is all mine, dear brother," she noted menacingly. "That meddling old man spoiled my fun last time… but he's nowhere to be found tonight. You're all mine."

With axes in hand, Bartheo stepped forward and let out a barbaric growl. "Not quite!" he protested. "The odds are still not in your favour."

Marisa gazed down at the short warrior and grinned patronizingly at him. "I suppose you're right. But then I always did like a good handicap." Placing her weapon non-threateningly at her side, she turned and moved a few feet away before facing them again. "Well, the sooner I kill you, the sooner I can go deal with your wretched little companions in the papal chambers," she noted, eliciting a look of shock from her opponents. Did she really know about their plan already? "Shall we begin?"

It was not a surprise that Bartheo attacked first. He had been itching to feed his blades, and the slender woman in front of him looked to be the prime target. He lunged forward with arms outstretched, and when he reached her position, he brought them together like a vice in an attempt to cleave her about the waist.

Marisa was several times too fast for the obvious attack to have worked. Before the iron weapons got anywhere near her, she had leapt gracefully over Bartheo's head and was already bringing her katana around to separate his legs from his upper body. Only Raven's quick movements stopped her: he darted forward and interrupted the path of her blade with his own. Their eyes met briefly, then; his were focused and determined, hers were amused and excited.

When Bartheo regained his bearing and realized what had happened, he spun around and hopped back until he was out of range of her weapon. It was obvious to him that he would have to play this battle much more cleverly in order to make up for his disadvantage in speed. Therefore, he would let Raven distract her – she was more interested in him, anyway – and strike when she was in the proper position. Doing so was not the honorable fashion of killing that he preferred, but it was certainly desirable to an easy and painless death.

Several times, Raven's and Marisa's blades met with equal force, clanging against each other with a sound that rang through the glass tunnels. For a while, Bartheo could barely keep up with their movements. Eventually, his eyes adjusted to the speed, and he could just keep track of where they were at all times. This allowed him to get a useful look at Marisa's fighting style: she was rather careless and offensive like himself, and thus it would probably not be too hard to find an opening in her movements.

For a split second, Marisa became entangled in her opponent's attack, briefly stunned by his show of strength. In this split second, her vulnerable backside was exposed; and in this split second, Bartheo attacked. He leaped at Marisa and tensed his muscles in preparation for the attack. Again, she was much faster; somehow she had seen the movement directly behind her, and to counter it, she shifted her blade to one hand only, and thrust her left elbow behind her as she arched her body backwards. It connected firmly with Bartheo's stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying.

"What a little pest!" she exclaimed, turning and advancing upon the fallen warrior who was now stumbling to right himself and catch his breath. "If you're going to keep interfering –" she lifted the razor-sharp blade above her head "—I'm just going to have to eliminate you."

As the weapon fell, it was met with the force of Raven's own blade as he suddenly appeared in front of her. Bartheo was astonished by his speed; he had never seen him utilize the full extent of his abilities like this. Marisa fixed an annoyed stare on her brother and snarled.

"You're even more meddlesome than he is," she snapped, withdrawing her sword and stepping back. Once again, her lithe body turned towards her brother, and she ran her free hand through her deep purple hair. "I won't hesitate to kill you, brother. But I would so rather see you suffer by watching him die first."

Raven grimaced and tightened his grip on his katana. "Neither I nor he will die tonight; it will be your dark candle that is snuffed eternally."

At the very concept of death, Marisa let out a shrill laugh that resonated through the cathedral. "Is that so?" she mocked, waving her sword around in disbelief. "Well, I am impressed by your confidence! Show me that your bite is worse than your bark, brother."

The invitation was all too enticing for Raven. He brandished the weapon and lunged forward. "Radiance Wave!" he cried, spinning his body around once and lowering his blade. The sword grazed against the ground as he lowered it, and wherever it connected in the radius of his spin, a burst of white energy ushered forth in Marisa's direction.

The woman grinned and extended her left hand. A black, spherical barrier of energy appeared around her and absorbed the energy wave with little trouble. Although Raven's attack had failed, he did not stop; lunging forth, he swung and sliced at her, hoping to catch her off-guard in the wake of summoning her energy barrier. Marisa parried the first two attacks with her weapon, and then suddenly vanished and re-appeared behind Raven, causing his final two to hit thin air.

"Fool."

With blinding speed, the hilt of his sister's blade slammed into his back, connecting directly with the spine. "Dark Spark!" she cried at the moment of contact. As pain ripped through his body, Raven collapsed to his knees. He found that, try as he might, he was not able to coordinate his movements and stand back up again.

"A shock like that is a trying thing for the nervous system," Marisa explained with a note of maliciousness in her voice. "It'll be a while before you can even stand up again, I imagine."

From his current position, Raven had a perfect, but helpless, vantage point for what Marisa did next. He looked on in horror as she advanced upon Bartheo, who had only just gotten his bearings back and was looking quite agitated. Once again the warrior flourished his axes and prepared to meet Marisa's attack. She stabbed at him with all the force she could gather in her right arm; with relative ease, he parried the attack, forcing the blade upwards by trapping it between his axes like a pincer.

The woman merely grinned at the attempt, however, and she wagged her left index finger at him, as though reprimanding him for something he had done wrong. That same finger directed Bartheo's eyes behind him. When he turned to look, he saw that a copy of Marisa was somehow standing behind him, with her blade poised to strike.

"Goodbye, friend of Raven."

Bartheo had no time to react: the biting steel ripped through his stomach and even pierced the Marisa standing directly in front of him; she merely dissipated into a wisp of shadow. The expression on Bartheo's face was stunned and in pain, but no words came to his mouth. Raven could only watch, wide-eyed and terrified, as blood trickled forth from the small but deadly wound.

With terrifying strength, Marisa hoisted her victim up with only one arm, still keeping him skewered on her weapon. The red liquid seeped out, dancing almost elegantly along the cold steel; it seemed to glimmer maliciously as though enjoying the feast of blood. Unable to move, Bartheo looked like an unfortunate rag doll that had been subject to an unfriendly owner. He was barely able to let out a grunt of pain as his life slowly trickled out of his body.

Raven was speechless. He tried with all his might to move – just to crawl forward an inch! – and attempt to stop this madness. But his nervous system was indeed too jarred by Marisa's attack, and he could not withstand the pain that every movement caused him. He therefore stood paralyzed, watching as his friend and companion was being killed before his very eyes.

"Say your last goodbyes," Marisa urged in a sweet, but dangerous voice. "Your life is now forfeit." And then, in a whisper: "Farewell."

Two concentric rings of energy, crossed over each other in the shape of an X, appeared around the blade, orbiting Bartheo's body. The black halos wavered slightly as though hungrily anticipating their next meal. Marisa twisted her wrist slightly, and the two rings of energy took it as a signal to close instantly. For a moment, Bartheo let out a scream of agony as the hoops of darkness squeezed the last life from his body. Then, as quickly as the rest of it had happened, his body dissipated into nothingness. Only the blood from his wound was left, pooling on the floor and trickling along the face of Marisa's blade.

"N….no!" Raven cried at last as he began to regain some of his previous mobility. Tears rolled from his eyes like rivers; they stained the marble floor and mixed with the blackening pool of blood.

"Yes…" Marisa said, barely above a whisper. She traced a finger along the flat of her blade to wipe off some of the blood, and then licked it off as though it were some kind of candy. "He's dead. And now you will die, too. Suffer as your agony consumes you… writhe in your remorse… and then let me free you of it all, brother." Stepping forward, Marisa pointed her blade at him. "Let me cleanse you of your guilt." She raised the weapon above her head, and grinned maliciously as she savoured his final moments.

---

Halis stood confidently before Genis and Audrey; both of them could see as well as feel the horrible energy pulsating through and from his body. Despite the fact that Genis had defeated him in their last battle, Halis was not looking at all nervous. Quite the contrary: Genis had an expression of worry on his wrinkled face, as he was the most in tune with the energy Halis was emitting. It was raw, evil, and above all, powerful. It became clear to him that Halis had held back last time.

"You see it now," Halis taunted, grinning. "You see my true power. You see that you are no match for me, don't you?"

"I think you overestimate your abilities," Genis said as he tried to hide his grimace. Halis merely smirked.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

The young mage extended his right arm and stretched out his palm and fingers. Without warning, five darts of black energy erupted from his fingertips and began soaring through the air, directed at Genis with unparalleled speed. "Ebony Dagger!" he cried.

Just before the needles made contact with Genis' body, Audrey sprang into action with her ribbon; the red cloth wrapped itself around Genis to protect him from the attack. However, Halis had other ideas. He grinned broadly at the attempt and waved the war fan he was holding in his left hand. Directed by the instrument, the needles turned in mid-air and diverted their course around Genis, making a beeline for Audrey. Unable to react in time, the girl was hit squarely by all five daggers, which caused her to stagger backwards in pain.

"His movements are much faster this time," Genis realized as he frowned and furrowed his brows. "I can't match that kind of speed. I should be able to match his power, but…"

"Match my power?" Halis said suddenly, erupting with laughter. Genis' eyes shot wide open. "You won't even come close, old man!"

"What…? How did he know what I was thinking?"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Halis with a tone of superiority.

"Wh…what's he talking about? Is he talking to himself now?" Audrey asked, fighting the pain coursing through her body and rejoining her comrade. To her, of course, it seemed like Halis was having a one-sided conversation with an invisible entity.

"Not quite," snapped Halis. "I can read your every thought, thanks to the gift of my mistress. I quite literally know every move you will make before you make it."

Both Genis and Audrey reeled backward at the thought of this. How could they possibly fight him if he could predict what they were about to do as they were about to do it? It would be difficult enough to react to his magic on its own, but he could also predict how they would react to it, and then redirect his spells to adjust! It was like playing chess against a master who knew every possible move in advance.

"Hmph," Genis muttered, taking a firm grasp on his kendama. "So these are the handicaps upon which the young warriors of this era cling to? I am disappointed."

Halis smirked, running his hand through his wavy, crimson locks. "All's fair in love and war, as they say; and this is war, old man. Your outmoded code of chivalry doesn't apply here."

Genis chuckled quietly and stroked his beard. "It certainly seems that way. Ah, well; if you have the advantage of knowledge, we shall simply see who is supreme in the realm of power." He turned his head slightly towards Audrey, but kept his eyes on their opponent. "Are you ready?" The girl nodded, and Genis nodded to her in acknowledgement. "Let's begin then. May the merciless embrace of frost take thee… Absolute!"

Genis' voice quivered ominously in the air as he spoke the words, and an icy mist began to rise around Halis' feet. Their opponent was unfazed, however; he kicked hard against the ground and propelled himself into the air. "Raging Mist!" he shouted. Suddenly, the floor beneath him began to bubble, and the cold fog was replaced with superheated air. Once again directed by his war fan, this new mist snaked towards Genis and Audrey.

"Damnit!" thought Audrey, hopping backwards. "I have to get above it!" She aimed her ribbon towards the ground and it launched out, connecting firmly with the floor beneath her and propelling her into the air.

Halis was, as expected, one step ahead of her; as she rose, so too did the mist. "Foolish girl! Didn't you know that hot air rises?" Audrey admitted that in her instinctual reaction, she had not considered that; Halis had been using his war fan to direct the mist along the ground, so she had been lulled into the false sense that it could not rise up. It did, however, and she had no time to react before the scalding mist seared her skin and Genis'. Both of them let out a cry of pain and tumbled to the ground.

Genis' mind reeled as he tried to bring himself to his feet again. It was obvious that another direct assault like that would prove fruitless. With Halis' ability to read their thoughts, every attack would be rendered ineffective. However, Genis knew that Halis was young and, most of all, overconfident: this made him foolish. He felt certain that his opponent could be tricked in such a way that their victory would be aided.

"May the merciless embrace of frost take thee… Absolute!" he shouted, causing energy to erupt out of his kendama.

"That's certainly not going to work a second time, you old fool!" Halis noted with a laugh. He once again took to the air and summoned a mist of superheated air below him. Looking down, however, he was shocked to see a swirling pool of water gathering. "What's this!"

The rising geyser of water rushed up to greet him, cooling and dousing the heated mist as it did so. In his shock, Halis neglected to move out of the way of the spray, and it slammed hard into his body, forcing him upwards and slamming him into the ceiling with all the force of a high-pressure hose. His freefall and eventual thud on the ground were painful and damaging, but he was able to rise once more.

"Very clever," he admitted weakly, body trembling as it rose. "Pretending to cast one spell, so perfectly that your mind actually thinks you are, but actually casting another. Like a game of rock-paper-scissors. Perhaps I underestimated you."

"You should realize that even the most supposedly absolute defense has its flaws," Genis noted matter-of-factly.

Halis merely grinned, though. Genis knew why: he knew that it would not work a second time. The chain of elements would simply cycle through until one of them was forced to cast a spell that would put them at a disadvantage; whatever spell Genis pretended to cast, Halis would now anticipate what he would really cast to counter his own spell; then Genis would figure out which spell to use to counter that, and so on. They were, in a sense, in a stalemate. Genis had hoped beyond reasonable hope that his one spell would finish it, but unfortunately that gamble did not pay out.

"You have forgotten one vital thing about me," Halis noted after a time in a maliciously confident voice. Genis looked up, startled. Was there really something he had failed to take into consideration? "The elemental cycle is not without its limits. There are ways to…." He paused for a moment, holding up his war fan; it pulsated with visible, black energy. "…transcend it."

"Transcend…?" Genis' mind raced as he tried to figure out what Halis could mean. He thought back to their previous battle; and then, suddenly, it struck him like a bolt of lightning. But by the time he realized it, it was too late.

"Bloody Lance!" Halis cried, slicing the air horizontally with his fan. A pentagram of darkness appeared underneath Genis, and he was petrified by it; four lances of raw energy appeared around him and lifted up into the air before descending rapidly upon him, slicing through his flesh; although they left no visible wounds, they had certainly done their damage. A final, larger spear appeared above, ready to bring its crushing weight down upon its old victim. Genis knew he would not be able to withstand it: Halis was indeed powerful, as he had claimed. He shut his eyes and braced himself for the end.

---

Back on the opposite side of the cathedral, Marisa stood threateningly over her brother, watching as his body quivered and shook from a mixture of pain and anguish. The corners of her mouth twitched into a malicious smile as she prepared for the end she had been so long waiting for. Suddenly, Raven spoke deeply in a low voice, as though he was struggling with the emotions inside himself.

"I always believed you were not beyond redemption," he said quietly, struggling to his feet. With considerable effort, he managed to stand upright, and placed a hand on the hilt of his blade. "I always believed that there was some good, something human left in you. But it is clear to me now that the darkness has consumed you. Perhaps you are beyond redemption."

Marisa's eyes twitched with shock. She took a step back and tightened her grip on her weapon. How could he be standing again, speaking at her with such steely resolve and determination? How could he not be an emotional wreck after seeing the merciless murder of his friend at the hands of his own sister?

"You said you wished to cleanse me of my guilt," Raven continued, looking up until his eyes met hers. Now they had reversed roles: his eyes were the cool, determined ones, and hers were nervous and shaken. Her body trembled imperceptibly. "There is only one way you can do so now."

Marisa couldn't keep track of her brother as he suddenly vanished. He had suddenly attained a speed that even she could not match. In the heat of the moment, the woman didn't realize that the voice came from behind her until it was too late.

"Die."

Marisa's eyes opened wide with shock as the word penetrated her ears from behind. She didn't even have time to turn her head to see the lithe, slender form of her armor-clad brother standing behind her, with his back to hers, long black hair flowing in an unfelt wind through the dark hallways. She was absolutely outmatched; there was no time to react. He began by bringing his elbow firmly into the center of her spine, causing her to stumble forward in pain. Continuing the attack, Raven spun and slammed into her with his left leg; she fell forward even more, this time losing her balance.

Before she could fully tumble to the ground, however, Raven darted underneath her and caught the front of her body against the hilt of his blade. He thrusted hard, and the uppercut sent Marisa flying into the air towards the high ceiling of the cathedral. Then he let her fall, with a tidal wave of pain rushing through her body as it connected with the floor, battered and broken after the drop. She could barely scramble to her knees to watch her brother as he stood over her.

"You are beyond redemption, sister; but I will release you from your darkness."

With blinding speed, Raven leapt backwards and held his katana high over his head. "May the Goddess accept you into Her embrace… Seraph Blade!"

He darted forward again, and although he was moving almost impossibly fast, for Marisa, the scene unfolded in slow motion. She watched as her brother ran toward her, blade held high. In those final moments, she thought she saw an angelic aura surround his body, and as he leapt high into the air, taking the weapon in two hands, she was certain a pair of ethereal white angel wings were unfolding majestically from his back.

There was a burst of white-gold energy at the apex of Raven's leap, and his katana began to glow. Then, as he fell, he brought the weapon hard over her head. Another explosion of white energy occurred as the force of his purity clashed with the unholy darkness within her. Raven was clearly the superior, however; Marisa let out a weak scream as her body was engulfed by the pure light.

In the last moments that Raven could feel Marisa's body fading away, he took a solemn expression and whispered, "Goodbye, sister…"

---

Elsewhere, Aidan, Shareen, Arthur, and Juna's plan was going successfully. They had progressed quickly and quietly through the Glass Cathedral without hindrance, and they were now approaching the doors to the papal chambers. At the end of the grand, carpeted hallway, the huge wooden doors stood before them. Each of them knew that, soon, all their hard work would come to its fruition at last.

"Almost there… I can't believe it's almost over," Aidan said, just above a whisper.

"Yeah…" agreed Juna, crossing her arms. "But it all seems too easy, don't you think? Where have the so-called Black Five gone to? I would have expected at least some of them to guard the Pope…"

Aidan shrugged his shoulders and continued forward. "Who cares? We should be thankful they aren't here. Makes things a hell of a lot easier for us."

"I agree!" chimed in Shareen cheerfully. "If the Black Five were to appear, it would be five on four, and we already know that just one of them is more than a match for all of us."

Juna looked about to say something, but she silenced herself and merely hoped that they were right. As they reached the door, Aidan extended his arms and prepared – not without undue hesitation – to open it.

"Stop!" a female voice ordered from somewhere behind them. Together, the group turned to see a strange, thin woman. She had somehow materialized directly behind them; they were certain she had not been following them earlier. She was fairly attractive: tall and thin; long, straight black hair; and penetrating hazel eyes adorned her features. She was somewhat pale, however, and dressed in a strange-looking black, leather outfit that revealed considerable flesh. Shareen realized that she looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint the resemblance.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Juna ordered, stepping towards her.

"I cannot allow you to go in there," the woman replied. Her tone was not so much an order as a plea.

"Oh, so you're one of the Black Five, huh?" Aidan concluded. He stepped forward and gripped his spear in both hands. The woman looked shocked; she shook her head vehemently.

"No! I'm no—"

"We were wondering where you scum were hiding," continued Aidan, not giving her a chance to speak. "Look, whoever you are, you aren't going to stop us when we've come so far. We're going in there."

The stranger sighed and adopted a strange, meditative stance as though collecting her thoughts. "Very well," she said quietly, tightening her fists and assuming a battle-ready pose. "If you will not turn back… I will turn you back."