Chapter -43: Rise from the Darkness
Darkness is there when you're born.
Darkness is there when you sleep.
Darkness will be there for you when you die.
Darkness is our first and most reliable companion long before the light shoves itself into our lives.
Yet we fear the Darkness, never giving it its due.
Darkness lives in a symbiotic relationship with us, asking nothing in return but the comfort of our eyes.
But some foul men abuse its gift, sullying its good name, which in turn strengthens the corruption of light.
Ultimately these are interpretations of the facts, neither element is meant to be understood, merely guided down different courses of life.
When you're suffering, and all hope seems lost…What will you turn to for comfort? Light, so far away…or Darkness, always by your side?
….
….
Sarajin returned to the farthest reaches of lands untouched by man and gazed out towards the falling sun.
The blurry palettes of twilight left him tired, but he refused to close his eyes regardless of the weight set upon them.
He continued to live through the act of piecing together a mind damaged by trauma.
Screams, blood…more screams, did his life ever know anything besides those?
If he closed his eyes, the noise would still chase him down.
But he had to keep awake…he had to…
It wasn't ending. His blade continued to cut through Youkai with ease.
He screams internally as blood continues to flow like a river behind him.
"That's enough!"
The roar of the universe could not stay his blade, and he would slat one more…
"STOP!" The universe made him yield to the searing white oblivion they called home.
In that moment, Sarajin faced Yen Sid standing there with his head hung, eyes closed, and proceeded to grin with a dark flash of madness.
"W-Well, did I do a good job now?" He asked, his voice dry and raspy.
The all-consuming shadow of the universe fell over him. Sarajin turned with a creak of his neck and looked up at the mighty dragon.
His grin rose, loosening tears, as he held his arms out ready to embrace praise in a sardonic fashion.
"I did it! The balance is SAVED!"
The void grew warmer, as sparkles as bright as stars dribbled off the dragon's snout.
"This was not what our arrangement entailed…" Whispered Futanji in a delicate tone.
"What do you mean?" Sarajin laughed, then broke down into a whimper, "THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED."
"...I let this happen. I trusted your kindness to prevail over all odds…now it has only served to destroy you."
Futanji tore down his voice to a mere whisper, "I-I'm sorry…"
Sarajin shivered and it shook loose the madness from his face, causing him to suffer the full weight of bloodshed all at once.
He fell on hands and knees and coughed, and screamed, and threw up all at once.
And this opened his eyes to the horror he had inflicted upon those innocent lives...
While all the comfort he would be offered was the dragon's guilt, "I refuse to wear down a good man to nothingness...I am returning you home, and for the next year, you need to settle down and recollect yourself. Then, we will reassess if you're still capable of this task of protecting other worlds."
As Sarajin was taken back home by a flash of light, the dragon let out one last whisper, "Please. Rest...you are the closest I've had to a-"
All Sarajin took away from that in his fractured state of mind was that he had to stay awake, and keep moving forward.
Through many sunrises, and many sunsets, until a year has passed.
"I-I'll be ready. Have to keep going...! Keep fighting...!" Different body parts twitched on different syllables. He snarled and grinned.
"Heh heh heh...! I can make it...it's only...it's only been...one, two, three, four...four...six...ten days..."
He then bit at the air twice and snarled, "No, no...! No more...!"
Bodies were flying into him and bursting into blood and viscera. He weakly swung his hand at them and started to cry, "Go away...! Leave me alone...!"
He tried to stand up and throw a punch laced with fire but tripped and crashed into the stone, bits of dirt and gravel digging into his skin.
He then slowly raised his fist and punched the ground, creating a large crater around him. He raised his head and the tears mixed with his blood to fill in the cracks.
"Ha...! Ha...!" He gasped and whimpered, burying his head into the ground.
All throughout the land, the people felt the disturbance in the air, but couldn't explain why they felt this way.
Everyone only suspected that something horrible had happened, something...tragic.
Everyone, that is, except Obscura.
To them, this disturbance was considered normal and the people continued to go about their daily lives unimpeded.
But now it was changed by the occasional sprinkling of their lord's presence among their ranks.
He had taken to walking through the streets of his home, towering over the common folk in presence and stature. He would seek out the edges of his land, standing beneath the ghastly petals of wilting trees, and wait for minutes at a time for movement beyond the borders.
And when he was done he would make his way back home with a brief stop by the spiral knoll of graves.
He stared only at the very top where his mother's grave rested, now accompanied by a sword dry with blood and an empty sheath...
One click of his eyes and now there kneeled a silhouette against the pastiche moon. They were trembling, fraught with grief.
A figure he was forced to know all too much...
Solomon found himself standing and watching without a sound as he smelled the faint scent of blood in the air.
Sarajin hooked his fingers into the gravestone and hunched over, his elbows drooping towards the ground.
Though nothing more than a whisper from this distance, Sarajin's voice was hollowing out with every gasp he struggled to get out, every whimper more pathetic than the last.
"I-I couldn't do it...!"
"Y-You were right...you were always right...!" He raised his voice in hopes of the specter accepting his pleas, not for forgiveness...nor for any seeming purpose whatsoever.
"I'm sorry…! I'm sorry…! I-i'm…"
Sarajin lost his grip and planted his face against the dirt at the base of the gravestone, howling and crying into the night sky.
Solomon squeezed his fists the longer that noise went on, his insides rattling and boiling over. Yet he refused to cast the sight of this man hollowing out from his mind.
And so he has carried that sight in his head for days on end. Appearing before the knoll of graves was injected into his routine with many a question as to why.
The more he looked, the more his eyes burned with the memory.
He began to hear his mother, clicking her tongue like the legs of a grasshopper behind him. She walked behind him, then began to crawl towards the fence.
She lacked her usual grace and instead laughed in his face, "He is finally out of our hair. You should be celebrating."
Solomon growled deeply within himself and the specter paused with a bigger smile, "Are you going to do anything? He tried and he failed. Effort like his is worthy of praise but ultimately, he was pointless."
"He is not your chain anymore."
Solomon's eyes grew wide to beam the chill of nocturne into the shadow.
The shadow smiled and rested their umbrella over their shoulder, lowering their pitch as they whispered, "Isn't this satisfying?"
Solomon's aura began to rise, pitch black like the unlit night, "You would never say these things."
The shadow eased up and pulled their head back, "Good. You're paying attention."
"The affairs of this world are no longer your concern," Solomon said, extending his hand forward, and speaking in a bitter haste "Why do you insist on caring so much about one insignificant man?"
The shadow giggled and began to fade from view, "Do I care?"
Once she was gone Solomon growled and swung his hand out past his hip. He then turned to the palace and went back inside.
All the players in the story of his life were assembled, save for the spider.
He returned to sit on his throne and faced his audience. The jester approached from a dimensional flip in the air.
"Ah, returned from another inspiring stroll through the city, have we?"
Solomon focuses on the space in front of him and nothing else. Even the most minor of urges to move or talk were silenced.
Soon Dimentio snapped his fingers and cracked a mild joke at his expense, "I think our king has finally fully assumed the role of a statue."
After a few seconds, Solomon looked at him and waved his hand out, "Are you amused?"
Dimensions waved his hands by his hips, "A little."
"Hrrrghhh…" Solomon tightened his grip around the arms and Dimentio wobbled back.
"Ah, point made. Ciao for now~"
Dimensions vanished with a snap of his fingers. This did little to ease Solomon's grip.
He watched the passage of time unfold before him like it was on rewind.
Every solitary day was like a frame on a film reel. The same characters in similar positions, going through the motions.
But there were gaps where one figure forced themselves into the story. That stubborn, foolish man named Sarajin…
His mouth moved in silence and shifted through different expressions, all of them retaining that same enviable positivity…
The light of his smile burned. His voice was the detestable wretches of a world he did not care to reach…
So. Why. Won't. It. Leave?!
Solomon clicked his fingertips along the fine wood and pushed the images back towards the present. This review showed the man's expression weakening, his visage fading out of view.
Until finally, he disappeared entirely, leaving him behind to be trapped in the banal cycle of everyday life.
No.
The tap of his finger hastened, and he began to pull back to scratch at it.
No.
The door would swing open, and once more that man would force his presence upon his reality.
Solomon's eyes were wide to swallow the anticipation in the air whole. He craved anything that could inspire spontaneity, a spark, ANYTHING inside his hollow chest.
The palace trembled as his dark aura rose, only disturbing the Vizier when dust was shaken onto her face.
"Who does that man think he is…?!" He growled under his breath, his eyes intensifying in their glare.
He dug his fingertips into the arm of his chair and the wood splintered.
And as the air itself twisted from his power, he forced the power outward like a bubble with his shout, "Silence…!"
The voices all went mute and he gasped and groaned, refusing to fully sit upon this accursed throne any longer.
As his body rose the Vizier immediately knew to fall on one knee at his commanding presence.
First the man gestured his hand towards emptiness and proclaimed, "Spider! I know you can hear me!"
Atrax rose behind the Vizier and bent his arm before his chest, "What do you require?"
Solomon narrowed his gaze, "I do not care what means you must use. You and the Vizier are to hunt down Sarajin Stratos' location and deliver it to me at once."
Atrax clicked his tongue with intrigue, "Oh well now, what a stunning turn of events…but you think I haven't tried? He refuses to be approached by anyone."
"Did I hesitate?" Solomon narrowed his gaze further, "You will have to find him again, and again, as many times as it takes…!"
He then thrust his hand out and declared, "It is time he answers to me…!"
"He will refuse you, just like he did Borealis."
"He will try." Was all Solomon let him off with, and Atrax chose to take his mercy seriously.
He raised his hand and patted the Vizier on the back, "Shall we? There are many places to look…"
Atrax retreated. The Vizier very much could not. She looked to her lord, teeth clenched in bitter envy. But she stowed her green-eyes of hate and cloaked her body in darkness to unravel the mystery demanded of her.
Solomon would wait with baited breath for the first sign of movement so he could strike.
Sarajin had been a persistent thorn in his side and irregardless of whether hate or admiration stirred his heart just this once…He would find out why he believes he was allowed to leave.
Sarajin proved slippery, he was in none of his usual spots and wherever he was kept him from casting a thick enough shadow to see through.
Solomon pressured the eyes and ears in his service to their limit. Never had his body stirred with such purpose.
And his patience won out, with the Vizier appearing before him in his throne room with the desired news, "I-I have pinned him down on the far outskirts of the wastelands south of here."
"What is he thinking?" Solomon mumbled to himself, then gestured his hand towards her and remarked, "You have proved yourself admirably today, Vizier. Now..."
He turned to his side and without a word, Dimentio appeared from another plane with a chuckle, "Shall I provide you a quick ride?"
"Vizier, show Dimentio his location."
The two's minds melded through dark magic and Dimentio turned to the Vizier with a curious hum, making a spare glance towards the parasite in the flask.
"Hmmm..." He then raised his hand and snapped his fingers, surrounding Solomon in one of his two-dimensional boxes.
"I'd wish you good luck, but I suspect you're a non-believer in such things."
Solomon narrowed his gaze and was carried across an entire expanse in under a second, his body fitting thin through the space between dimensions.
He was deposited in the deep wastelands, surrounded by the stench of death and decay.
The strongest scent permeated from a body behind him and he turned around to see Sarajin hunched over a towering cliffside overlooking the rotting sea.
His skin was dirty to the point that any wound would immediately fester. He had visible bones on the backs of his wrists and his hair was starting to look bleached.
Solomon's chest was riled up with a mix of ire and disgust and began to harden his stance, facing this broken man with his voice unrestrained from hesitation, "Stand. UP."
Sarajin twitched, grumbling under his breath, "Why...why are you still bothering me? I-I gave you what you wanted already...leave me alone..."
Solomon turned aside and looked down at him, "I don't recall ever giving you my permission to make demands of me. Now STAND. UP!"
Sarajin looked over his shoulder, his gaze appearing far detached from all other senses.
"Y-You're supposed to be dead..."
Solomon growled angrily and flared his dark aura, "I will not repeat myself a third time. STAND! UP!"
Sarajin began to cry, and bit his mangled lower lip, "I-If you're going to take me already, just do it..."
He then faced the sea and whimpered, "I deserve to be with you...I'm nothing but a worthless murderer..."
Solomon's whole body shook the ground where they stood and began to break away where Sarajin was sitting. But before he fell into the endless sea of rotting black, Solomon reached out and dragged him up, tossing him back against the ground.
He then shifted across the distance between them and grabbed him by the poncho, hoisting him up high and shaking him until some flicker of light formed in his eyes.
"Are you mocking me, Sarajin Stratos?!" He yelled, as Sarajin weakly grabbed and kicked away at him.
"I took the courtesy of leaving my palace and hunting you down, all because you REFUSE to leave my head, and what do I find...?"
He dragged him in closer and deepened his whisper with maddening frustration, "A weak and pathetic man, cowering to a GHOST...!"
After a few more grunts Sarajin seemed to break a little bit out of his stupor, "S-S-S-Solomon...?"
Solomon threw him to the ground and raised his hand, full of darkness, amplifying the light of his eyes, "I have endured your ceaseless disrespect towards my privacy for YEARS, despising your flowery dialogues and...stubborn positivity...!"
"But deep down I could respect the conviction that set you before me. Yet had I known that one dead body to your name would be enough to make it crumble, I would have crushed you where you stood years ago!"
Sarajin staggered up to his feet and with eyes as wide as the sun but as dull as dirt he murmured, "Y-You...respected me?"
Solomon was caught out with his teeth on his tongue, muddied by confusion and mild apathy towards himself. He shook his head, extending his hand and remarking, "You've become pathetic, Sarajin."
"Heh...!" Sarajin smirked and aimed his weary gaze back at him, mumbling under his breath, "Right...you're just lying."
"Who would ever respect me...? I'm just a murderer, a hypocrite...Couldn't even save one life, just took them...!" He bit his teeth down and howled at the man before him, "I bet you're ENJOYING THIS you bastard...!"
Solomon narrowed his eyes and fired a fragment of darkness from his hand to knock him back down.
He then towered over him, blotting out the sun so that his black silhouette would haunt him, "You know NOTHING about me...!"
Sarajin giggled with raptorous raspiness and then spat up, "...You've taken a life. I don't forget..."
He stood up and met the man in the eyes, barely retaining contact, "Your own PEOPLE no less...!"
"I kept that parasite from having his way." Solomon offered as his rebuttal.
"So all for the greater good? Yeah..." Sarajin began to murmur as he looked away, "So did I..."
Solomon stood back and squeezed his fists, with a beastial growl he turned his back on this man, leaving him to rant away.
"You know I tried fighting for the greater good for years...! A-And one of the people I tried to help was YOOOOOOOUUUU...You UNGRATEFUL, LAZY, SACK OF ARMOR...!"
"But you were having none of that..." Sarajin bit his teeth and stamped one foot forward to shout, "You're just like Borealis...content to sit on your throne hoping the world will kneel and give you your way...!"
Solomon began to crack his fists and tremble.
"If Ophelia saw her son now I wonder how ashamed she'd feel..."
"ENOUGH...!" Solomon turned and a black wind roared past his back, his eyes as wide and grim as the alluring light of Death, "Have you no other means of tiring me out than to throw the dead back into my face?!"
"The dead do not SPEAK, yet you've allowed yourself to carry on her voice to the point of ludicrousy!"
When he clenched his fist the wind subsided, leaving Sarajin panting for breath.
"It's absurdity...!" Solomon growled, "'How could my mother ever let a fool like you invade her heart?' I tired myself to the point of exhaustion time and time again trying to figure out the answer to that..."
"And all the while your voice, your mannerisms, your appearance, every forsaken facet of your being slowly invaded my thoughts until I couldn't even SIT without seeing you standing before me...!"
"I do not know WHY this has happened to me, what makes you so...intoxicating that it is the sole thing that makes my heart stir with wants and life."
"But I DEMAND to have my answer! THAT is the sole reason I have hunted you down...!"
"I will grant you an escape from your pitiful suffering if you so desire...But until I can understand, you do NOT have my permission to die."
Free to breathe heavily once more, Sarajin grit his teeth and grumbled, "W-Why do you think I have any answers now...?"
He hung his head and shivered, "I never even understood myself...! I thought I was wielding my sword to be a shield for the weak...!"
He broke enamel, biting his teeth down harder as he screamed, "But I just wanted strength...! S-So that no one could ever make me feel useless again...!"
His red, itchy eyes glared up at Solomon and shouted, "T-That's your answer...I'm a liar! Your mother died because she trusted a LIAR...!"
So Sarajin stretched his arms out and pleaded, "So get it over with...Kill me!"
Solomon began to raise his hand, filling it to the brim with darkness so that not a single trace of Sarajin's being will remain.
Sarajin faced his power head-on and continued to cry and whimper.
...All Solomon could do was continue to hold his hand up and look him deep in the eyes.
"...Foolishness."
He began to lower his hand, causing Sarajin to shout, "What are you waiting for?!"
"Silence...!" Solomon squeezed the darkness free from his grasp, then gestured it out towards him.
With a deep, internal growl, he slowly began to speak up, "I...do not understand the sort of person my mother was. I only ever call her such because that is what my knowledge deems...appropriate."
"But of all the beings in this world, I know only two that have made her heart yield..." He glared at Sarajin as he slowly looked stunned, "That woman carried her stubbornness to the grave..."
"You convinced her that you were worthy of being remembered."
Sarajin stared and stared then hung his head, his heart aching even thinking for a second there was good in him, "Maybe that person was real at some point...But he's not here anymore."
"So taking a few lives invalidates everything you've accomplished?"
"What have I possibly accomplished?!" Sarajin barked in pain.
"Hmph, you bark at the wrong man. I do not know, but somehow the irritating march of war outside my doorstep has grown quieter..."
"And somehow, your foolish babbling has attracted the attention of many powerful figures and brought them under your banner of so-called 'peace'."
He clenched his hands away from his chest and looked towards Sarajin with a sense of listlessness to his gaze, "There is purpose behind your existence...which is more than I can for myself."
He then let out a deep sigh, those last syllables having dripped out with hesitation, "I have wandered for far too long. My feet are tired..."
"I have tried different means to seek an answer for the universal truth...'Who am I?' None have bore fruit."
"Maybe...I will only find my answer in your world. A world of 'peace', whatever that entails..."
Sarajin shivered with goosebumps, "Wh-What are you saying...?"
Solomon squeezed his fists, then thrust his palm out towards Sarajin to declare, "Raise your head with pride, Sarajin Stratos...! If you can still manage that much with shoulders heavy with blood, then you shall have my allegiance for your cause!"
Sarajin's heart couldn't handle the surprise, but he didn't let himself fall to his knees...
Instead, the shock strengthened his body, clearing the clouds of darkness in his head.
He began to slowly piece together the fragments scattered across his mind.
Happy memories, memories that he brought to life...
Echoes of appreciation and gratitude throughout time, across entire worlds, all because he stood up for what he believed was right.
And what he believed in were the three core values that made a hero what they were...
"Hope."
"Inspiration."
"Love."
And every word, echoing in Franklin's voice, came with images that befit them.
And when he neared the end of those memories, he was reminded of his family...Of his dad, of his mom, his son, his incredible wife...
He couldn't hold back the tears.
He tried to face what he had become and hated how dirty and cowardly he looked now.
"What was I doing...?" It was difficult to believe he could even have these thoughts anymore.
He forced a smile and closed his eyes partway, "I was going to end it all...and for what?"
He took those lives. That stain was never going away.
And yes, maybe that does make him a hypocrite.
But...
He stared at Solomon and finally felt like there was a bridge between them, causing him to smile with more of his usual energy while tears rolled down beside the lips.
"Even if I fall down, and make mistakes...As long as I am able to keep standing up and trying again, change WILL happen...!"
He pushed all his remaining strength into his knees and stood upright, continuing to stare Solomon down, "I-I won't let you back out of this offer, Solomon...From now on you're with me to the bitter end."
Solomon's heart stirred with warmth and he began to laugh, "Do you presume I will let you order me around. If you disappoint me again, I will end you."
"..." Sarajin closed his eyes and nodded, then held his fist up before his chest to remark with acceptance, "Alright, you have a deal. But you're not going to get to fulfill your end."
He then extended his hand and smiled, "This promise will be unique to us...I will become a better person, so that I'll never have to take a life again. If I can't accomplish that...then you have to be the one who puts me down, ok?"
"Hrrnghh..." Solomon was simply befuddled by this man, "You are a bewildering man to endure, Sarajin Stratos. But fine..."
He then reached his hand out, hesitating part way to comment, "...If this is how you do this."
He then grabbed his hand and shook it, "Then we have secured our pact. Betray it at your own discretion."
"To a peaceful world..."
"...Yes," Solomon uttered, "To a 'peaceful' world."
"Despite everything that happened, my husband was able to regain himself..."
"But we had no idea at the time the price that would be paid for allowing that thing to save him from the darkness."
"The story edges one step closer to its conclusion...A finale that will tell all, and show you the truth...behind the conflict of the Elemental Overlord and the Dark King."
ACT 2: END