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Chapter Two: Time and the Cosmos.

To Erin's surprise, the mirror did not shatter or break. She completely passed through it head first, and then drifted aimlessly through a void colored brilliant hues of blue, purple and gray.

Her whole body experienced a brutal shiver, her stomach churned violently. Erin wouldn't have doubted it if the contents of her stomach would force it up her esophagus and spew out, if it had felt that she COULD vomit. It was quite an unexplainable sensation.

So many thoughts raced through her mind. What happened to Allie? She saw the lights first; therefore she must be going through the mirror as well. She had hoped that they were going the same place and taking different routes.
Maybe this was a bad nightmare. Maybe, Allie had spiked her coffee from earlier. How she hoped that was the case. Traveling through this tunnel of light was not going to go through well with her if it was actually happening.

A hooded figure appeared, towering over Erin. The figure was fully clad in black robes… Its long, thin fingers wrapped around a handle of a large scythe.

The figure raised its head and lifted one end of the scythe, revealing a rotting face of an unknown soul, with skin of dark color and sockets without eyes.

Erin opened her mouth to scream, but her vocal cords seemed to fail her… It was just like a nightmare. Only air was released.

The creature swung its scythe swiftly, striking Erin in the chest. She felt that every bone had shattered and all her breath had been forced out of her chest. Then all faded to black.

Erin was mildly surprised when she had awakened, for she was almost positive that the figure that had struck her was Death itself… It had fit the description in most media. Also, to her surprise, she was under a blanket, on a firm, but not uncomfortable surface. Almost afraid to poke her head from the covers, she did so despite her fear.

The room was hardly illuminated; she presumed that it was nighttime, seeing as how no sun shone through the many cracks in the ceiling and the moon was clearly visible.

She stood, the blanket dropping to the floor. Moving was awkward, however, because her jeans had been replaced with a white skirt that was very short on one side and long on the other, while the opposite was knee-length. A decorative halter top colored black and silver had taken the place of her t-shirt. She adorned taped boots along with silver bracelets.

From her hips, her favorite weapon hung; Damien's Gauntlets. The tambourines were silver with black rigid rings. They didn't really resemble gauntlets at all, but Aeriah had given them their name when she was very young.

Erin paused. Aeriah, was that now her name? Her eyes widened in realization; she was a whole new person.

Erin was now Aeriah Matof, a dancer girl from a Spanish father and French mother… Her father was a sword master and her mother was a scholar, both had tried to teach her to use different weapons. The only one she had really taken to was the Greave Edge… When she was ten, she was kidnapped by a group of bandits that had called themselves La Morte Aimable. The rest, she couldn't bear to think of.

Aeriah brushed a lock of wavy hair out of her eyes, and then proceeded to sneak through the house she was staying at and ran. Maybe Allie was here somewhere? Damn, she hoped so… If she wasn't, then Aeriah was alone.

Her running continued at an erratic pace, each breath she took burned in her throat. She searched every alleyway she had passed, hoping for a sign of some one familiar, anyone who had been with her in the life that was taken from her before her eyes…

She was convinced that there had to be something here she was familiar with, she felt as if she needed something familiar, even if it would just happen to be her blanket or one of her stuffed animals. Comfort was comfort, either way. But, nonetheless, her top priority was to find her friend.

She ran for roughly an hour, her hopes evaporating with every step. Why was this happening? Was it punishment for whatever sin she had committed? Surely she hadn't done anything to deserve this!

By the time she had given up her search, she felt as if her lungs were on icy fire, however oxymoronic that may sound. The flicker of hope's fire had been extinguished completely. Aeriah was rather upset at this point; she was completely alone in a new life. She was devoid of experience in the area of being a twenty year old bandit; she didn't want to go on like this with no one who knew her feelings.

Footsteps echoed through the dead quiet streets. Initially, Aeriah paid no heed to the footfalls, but as they drew nearer she became increasingly attentive. Finally, the steps had stopped.

Aeriah turned around, revealing the owner of the feet that had produced the dull slaps. Unfortunately, the young girl was all too familiar.

The woman, known as Sophie, was dressed in the short purple cloth shirt and a tight, bottle-green skirt. The girl donned leather sandals. Attached to her white belt was a dagger in its sheath. On the hilt, an even armed cross behind a small star indicated the knife was made by the forger of La Morte Aimable. For a moment, Aeriah went back in her memories.

Five years ago, La Morte Aimable and a similar group, Ángeles Del Infierno, had similar objectives. The Spanish family that had lived there was responsible for many murders of the less fortunate population.

Yvonne was basically the head of this operation, and she commanded Aeriah, Lionel and Sophie to tag along. They learned minutes before they picked the lock that the family had supposedly held a sword called Soul Calibur. Aeriah, frankly, had no idea why the sword could be important, and Sophie had seemed oblivious as well.

Yvonne was not dressed in her normal light colored ring pants and dancer's jacket over a frilly pale green shirt. Replacement attire consisted of all black, form fitting clothing… Yvonne claimed it was easier to maneuver in.

"Lionel, Sophie," Yvonne barked in a low tone, "Go around back. I don't know the layout, and if we all travel together it'd be a waste of time. Don't question me, just go."

Lionel nodded, "I agree for the most part, but I do not favor the idea of Sophie accompanying me, however."

"Now is not the time to be picky," Yvonne snapped, "Aeriah has skills I feel compliment my own, and Sophie's skills compliment yours," Her voice leached of impatience and frustration. Aeriah couldn't help but feel that there was much more to this situation than an artifact, or however the sword was classified. Maybe her instincts were wrong, but she could only hope.

Sophie and Lionel reluctantly sprinted towards the east side of the mansion. Aeriah silently wondered if their intentions were to enter from the back or the side, but that wasn't important.

Yvonne smiled, almost maniacally, a mad glint in her eye, "Now, we enter."

Aeriah nodded, unsettled by Yvonne's recent behaviors. Usually, the woman was kind, gentle, and very open. However, for the past month or so, she had been shutting everyone out, mumbling about energies and swords and men in white robes… Thinking of this change wasn't pleasant, and Aeriah focused on the task at hand.

Yvonne and Aeriah proceeded to open the door quietly. Frankly, Aeriah was enamored with the very elaborate home… Did some one really live here?
"If you sense anything at all… Tell me…" Yvonne murmured, rooting around the personal belongings of the people who lived here.

To be quite honest, Aeriah had no idea what Yvonne could be talking about. With all these queer things the woman who had once been her mother figure had been saying, she wasn't sure of what she should believe.

The pair searched relentlessly, peering into every vase and behind every sculpture. With each passing moment, Yvonne's dissatisfaction escalated.

Yvonne growled, knocking an exquisite and seemingly expensive vase to the ground. Aeriah could almost hear every fragment of the once majestic article of pottery shatter, "Aeriah, you're positive that you don't sense anything abnormal?"
"Yvonne," Aeriah whispered harshly, slapping her hand over the taller Yvonne's mouth, "Do you want us to be noticed!"

Yvonne violently seized the girl's wrist, digging her sharp fingernails into the flesh, "Girl, you don't order me around… do you understand that?"
Aeriah nodded fearfully and Yvonne let go. Aeriah turned, facing away from Yvonne and examined the wound… Yvonne had caused it to bleed quite a bit. Aeriah ripped the end of her skirt to use as a makeshift bandage.

With an unexpected thud, Aeriah jumped and twirled to discover an image that would linger in her mind forever.

Sophie smirked maliciously, "Why hello there… Long time, no see…" Sophie hissed acidly.

Aeriah examined the girl she hadn't seen in four years. The cold, slim gray eyes and the long, narrow, hooked nose were still sitting on the same oval shaped face, which was framed by the mud-colored hair in tight spirals. The tall, muscular girl didn't seem different at all.

Aeriah scowled, "Sophie, I didn't kill Yvonne…" She said behind clenched teeth, her long fingers curling around Damien's Gauntlets firmly.

Sophie glowered, saying thousands of words without the trace of a sound. Aeriah could tell the woman's hatred for her was deep-set…

In one swift move, the blade of Sophie's dagger was at Aeriah's neck, "How does it feel to look death straight in the eyes, Aeriah? How does it feel?" The cold blade touched Aeriah's skin.

Aeriah silently panicked and, without thinking, raised one of Damien's Gauntlets with her left hand and brought it over the other woman's head, so the tambourine was around her neck. She violently jerked the tambourine towards the left and the ridges tore into Sophie's neck.

Aeriah dropped the tambourine, causing Sophie to fall to the ground with a sickening thud. She couldn't believe herself. She had just killed some one…
She retrieved her tambourine and wiped it off with an article of Sophie's clothing. For what seemed like hours, which was actually mere minutes, Aeriah strode curtly, her hand covering her mouth. She recalled that about seven years ago, another member of La Morte Aimable had supposedly murdered a woman, and a manhunt was called. Was the same happening to Aeriah because of Yvonne? Sophie's dead body couldn't assist her in a plea for innocence; on one account she would in fact be guilty.

The familiar dull slap of footfalls emitted from behind Aeriah, causing her to sigh. Twisting her body so that she faced the opposite way, she discovered six or seven men and women dressed in green and purple.

Aeriah glowered, knowing she was most definitely going to die if she faced the group alone, "Your little group is damn persistent," She growled tartly, her overall posture rigid and her teeth clenched. She seemed to feel an odd mixture of annoyance, dread, and a rather grim sense of amusement.

A tall woman, about six feet tall, simpered darkly, "Of course. You should know, young one. You were the same way." The woman spoke in heavily accented French… Perhaps the woman's first language was something similar to Japanese?
"And we dun' give up on our kin!" Another man jousted, apparently hoping that Aeriah would feel guilt.

Aeriah placed her hands on her hips… An action denying her fear, "And I suppose it's customary for a group who consider each other to be their own flesh and blood to estrange one of their own…?"

The same woman appeared offended, "What the hell are you talking about? We treated you as a sister, a daughter, even!"
Aeriah suppressed her laughter, "You can't be serious," She tucked a rebellious strand of her black hair behind her ear, "Lionel and Yvonne were the only ones that treated me as their own family, before Lionel decided to play double-agent, kill Yvonne and attempt to kill Sophie and me." Saying Lionel's name after all of this time was on level with a kick in the heart…

A snort of contempt emitted from the woman, "Please, child, we've heard that story," She pulled her bastard sword from its plain sheath, "Don't even bother with your prayers, they won't help you now."

All at once, swords, sickles, maces and axes swung at Aeriah from all around. She was able to evade most of the strikes, but attacking some one was another story. As she evaded and dodged the seemingly more powerful attacks, the glum truth became apparent.

Death was drawing closer for Aeriah.