- BOOK II -
R E V E L A T I O N - O F - D A R K N E S S
- For Emira and Silver -
I
The enormous airship slammed into the side of the San d'Orian castle, the explosion rupturing the sinister city down to the very core. The sound of wood and metal clashing up against hard stone could be heard for miles, and the metropolis immediately went into a state of catastrophe. Citizens ran for their lives, young and old, screaming and crying as they fled.
From the throne room, the Dark Queen meditated. Behind her was a figure new to the lands of San d'Oria, a dark and sinister figure of a tall and thin stature, with no obvious characteristics about him whatsoever. He seemed to be without clothing, having no genitals of either male or female origins, though his body was bathed in what could only be described as a skin tight suit of black. He had no mouth, no nose, no eye sockets; he was blank and without characteristics in any way. "He is here, with the Eye." She muttered, her eyes closed in meditation. "For your first duty, you will retrieve that Eye," She began, opening her eyes to stare at the wall before her. "and you will kill the one known as Silver Tear." Without emotion, he gave a San d'Orian salute, and a violet glyph made itself present on the stone floor in which he stood. As a pair of demonic wings unfolded behind him, which he stretched to their full length of ten feet, he slowly began to sink into the circular object.
----
"Where is she, you bastard!" The thief yelled, his dual scimitars unsheathed and grasped firmly in his hands, which he held before him. The midnight air rushed past both him and the demonic figure high atop the San d'Orian castle rooftop. Silver was wounded severely in many places, his body stained with blood, bruises, and scratches, but he refused to die. He couldn't; everything was on the line. However, he wasn't fighting at the moment for the conclusion of the war. He was fighting for something that was much more personal than any war, and until his objective was complete, he had no choice to stay alive.
He had no choice.
----
With a kick that ruptured several of the thief's ribs, he was thrown off of the castle rooftop. He let out a small, quiet moan of utter defeat as his body turned itself downward to his impending death, blood rushing from his mouth and side, one eye completely torn from its socket. From the rooftop stood the demonic figure, in his hand the dark pearl that began this horrible fray.
Suddenly, in Silver's mind, everything began to slow down. The sounds around him were muted, and he could hear his own heartbeat as it gradually began to slow down. He found himself falling towards the ground, looking upward towards his opponent, while everything around him seemed as if it were in slow motion.
"…So…"
"…This is how it ends…?"
"…This is the fate of Vana'diel…?"
----
Hicks awoke from his slumber, finding himself in a bed that was, to say the least, very unfamiliar. He raised himself up, rubbing his sweaty forehead, and sighed. What was that? What in Altana's name did it mean? He found that he had no answers to these questions, although, he hoped for his student's sake that it was nothing more than a dream. From outside the small room, he could hear the playing of instruments. The song was peppy, and in Hicks's opinion, far too joyful for anyone's good. The room was shabby, decorated with furs and ornaments that even a commoner would call 'gaudy'.
"You finally decide to wake up." A feminine voice stated, causing Hicks to nearly break his neck in surprise. Even after a year had past, he still found it hard sometimes to cope with his loss. She laughed at his state of surprise. "You've been out for a grand total of four days. I see you're a very heavy sleeper." She stated with a smile.
Hicks rubbed his eyes, sighing. "Where am I?" He asked.
"You were in the middle of the Western Altepa Desert, unconscious, and dehydrated. Now, you're in a cavern near that very place. By the way, you're welcome for the rescue." She explained, standing up.
"I didn't ask for you to rescue me." He replied, coldly.
"Wow, and so grateful, too!" She retorted, laughing. "I know you didn't ask. Considering your state of unconsciousness, it would have been rather hard for you to have asked in the first place."
"I'm leaving." Hicks muttered, hopping out of bed and making his way to the door. He immediately after found himself being lifted off of the ground by the collar of his under armor. His face immediately became red with anger. "I demand that you release me, wench!"
"Hold up, stubby." She stated, her voice a bit more firm than before. "In your condition, you're not going anywhere unless I say so. You're weak, unarmed, and you've yet to become fully hydrated." Although Hicks was angry, he remained silent, for he knew that she had a point. "Who do you think you are, an Iron Musketeer or something?"
He found no humor in the irony.
He found himself being lowered to the ground, and eventually, his feet found support. He turned around and gave her an emotionless look while he observed her features. She was a young woman that seemed to be in her early twenties. Her hair was black, cut at the shoulders, and her Asian features gave her a rare beauty that the Lieutenant had not viewed in some time. However impressed he was with her beauty, he let no such sign be shown upon his face. She smiled, bent down, and extended her hand. "I'm Phacia. I'm a traveling bard, and this is one of the wagons of the convoy I'm currently hitching a ride on. And who might you be?"
Hicks hesitated to shake her hand, but he eventually brought himself to do so as he stared into her dark eyes. "My name is Hicks." He stated. "…and my business here is none of yours."
"Ah, I see." She replied, smiling. "Very well then, Hicks. It's nice to meet you."
The taru turned around, rolling his eyes out of the view of his rescuer. "…likewise…"
----
The next few days, Phacia saw very little of the impish man. He rarely came out of his cabin, and when he did, he came out at night, unbeknownst to him that, from afar, the bard watched him carefully. He never once, however, attempted to make an escape, and for that, Phacia had to give him credit.
Every day, around the time of noon, Phacia would play her lute for the convoy that was so generous to give her a ride. Her songs were normally fast paced and intense, and although Hicks enjoyed them from the comfort of his enclosed wagon, he showed no visible appreciation. Throughout the day, she would visit the taru, bringing with her a cup of water which she forced him to drink, regardless of his opinion of the matter.
This treatment repeated itself for many days. During this time, the two began to trust each other a bit more with each small conversation, though Hicks's emotional 'wall' made him very hard to converse with sometimes. Phacia, however, decided not to dwell on this fact, and hopefully in time he would come to trust her more.
----
The midnight sky could be seen from the mouth of the cave by which Phacia stood. She sighed, her eyes full of much anxiety; she never showed this side of herself while in the presence of others. Those who she traveled with knew next to nothing about her, which is the way she liked it. Although a loner at heart, she felt drawn to this Hicks. He was cold, emotionless, and impersonal with everything around him. Some of these traits she obviously shared with him, and for that reason, she felt very close to him from the start. She could say, in a way, that she envied him.
Such contemplations were stopped immediately by a familiar sound that she had not heard in many years. It was the sound of her own lute, no doubt, but the melody by which was played by its strings brought such a strange curiosity to her mind that she could not ignore. She knew very well where she had heard it last, but-
She immediately began to advance towards the source, which was trailing from deeper inside the cave. The convoy deep in slumber, she hurried off deep inside the cavern, the familiar melodies echoing across the stone walls. Growing ever more curious the closer she came, her walk had turned into a run, and her curiosity a desire. She wanted to see the source of this song; she needed to see it.
And, as she wished, she found her source. It came in the form of an impish figure atop a stone pillar, his blue hair draping over his shoulders, rather than pulled back in a loose ponytail as it often was. His eyes were closed as he played the slow, sad tune, his tiny fingers picking the strings with such precision and grace that she had never heard it played so beautifully. Without warning, he came to an abrupt stop. His eyes opened, and without saying a word, he stared into the eyes of Phacia.
"…Hicks…" She muttered, staring up at him in wonder. "…I had no idea you played."
He remained silent for some time, and then replied. "It seems that we both have our…secrets, Phacia."
Her heart sank.
Suddenly, Hicks began an immensely intense tune, his fingers dancing across the strings at an incredibly fast pace. Phacia's eyes grew wide with surprise.
A black doppelganger of herself emerged from the cave floor, its eyes glowing red. Her focus on Hicks immediately shifted to that of her new nemesis. The dark figure immediately rushed towards her, attempting a hard punch to the face.
Phacia easily dodged the attack by leaning backwards. She then grabbed the phantasm by the arm, delivered pressure to the elbow, and instantly broke the arm, though the figure showed no signs of pain. It immediately leapt back, though Phacia was hot in pursuit. She counter attacked with a swift kick to the chest, and then another, and then another, until the ghost finally grabbed her leg and swung her round and round. It let her go at an incredible rate of speed, though the woman easily landed on her feet on the cave wall. Phacia jumped down to the floor, then rushed forward, meeting the phantasm halfway. They began a series of blocks, kicks, and punches, delivering successful blows to both opponents. The woman yelled out fiercely, knowing that her stamina was depleting swiftly. Without a second to lose, she made a hard kick for the ghost's right knee, snapping it like a twig. Falling to its knees, Phacia, out of instinct, snapped its neck with a quick twist of the arms, and it faded into smoke shortly after.
Realizing what she had done out of instinct alone, she stared up at Hicks. No one knew this about her - absolutely no one.
"You've done well, Phacia." Hicks stated, staring down at her without emotion. "…Now, let us talk of your past. There is much to be explained."
Phacia cleared her throat, heart throbbing in her chest at a very high rate. The only thing she could do was nod in agreement; the truth was out to this man, and there was nothing she could do to hide it from him any longer.