Chapter -133: The One Who Commands Shadows
This was the first time Sarajin had really been out in the wilds this late in the day. The sun had almost fully set and the moon was up in the sky.
Sarajin noticed that he couldn't see the stars as clearly as he normally could back home. It was sad really, cause they were plentiful in number, but none shone with their particular luster.
"What do you think of the stars tonight, Justek?" Sarajin said, trying to prod his friend into responding. But he had been silent for the last half-hour and didn't even budge his gaze anywhere.
Sarajin leaned in a little to take a closer look at his face, his features pale and devoid of that usual spark of confidence in his eyes.
He had been in a bad mood a lot recently because of Temporis, but it seems like after that last argument he was really bothered by her words.
"Maybe she went too far this time..." Even Sarajin had to admit that, not hating her for it but more so worried about the effects it was having on his friend.
But what could he do about it? He's been around Justek long enough to understand how he behaves and this behavior is just so unlike him.
Thus they kept walking in silence, being careful to avoid the sight of the Rot Walkers who, at this time of day, seemed far more active than normal.
Their bodies gave off this polluted brown-ish glow that emphasized the decaying bones that somehow still remained on them.
After another half-hour of walking with numerous attempts to try and wave his hand in front of Justek's face, Sarajin withdrew in surrender and sighed.
"Please say something." He murmured, the concern in his voice born of hope.
A little while later and the last bit of sunlight dipped out of sight. Now night ruled the land, and it made it a little harder to see where they were going.
The moon's light was faint and left Sarajin with this uneasy feeling. But when he looked up at the moon he couldn't tell what was off, just that it seemed different somehow...
He looked around and noticed what appeared to be Sancturia to his right, it's barrier aglow like a jewel in the ground after it had absorbed the light of many stars.
Sarajin smiled and gently waved at it, wondering aloud, "I hope Temporis made it back safely."
It was only when he withdrew his hand that he recognized how something felt...odd about the direction of the city in relation to their current location.
At first it didn't bother him enough to be worth mentioning, but as they continued to walk further through the wilds the bloom of azure light from Pulsa Minoria caught his eye...miles away from his left.
Actually, direction didn't matter at all. They shouldn't have been this close to the city.
"Uh oh..." He murmured, "I think this is the wrong direction."
Justek flinched and that frightened Sarajin. He then craned his head aside and said with an audible stutter, "W-What do you mean we're going in the wrong direction?"
Sarajin's smile was a little anxious but he was glad to be able to talk to his friend again, "Justek! You're alive!"
Justek narrowed his eyes and repeated himself in a firmer tone, "Sarajin, what do you mean we're going in the wrong direction?"
"I...I guess I was too busy worrying about you that I didn't notice where we were going, heh..." He rubbed the back of his head and murmured, "Sorry."
Justek nudged his glasses off and rebuted with a grizzled tone, "Worried about me? Worried about ME? I don't recall ever giving you permission to do such a thing!"
He started advancing towards Sarajin, causing him to retreat with his hands raised defensively, "Justek what's up...? You're not acting like yourself."
Justek slanted his brows and for a brief moment Sarajin shivered from the sight of his pupils shrinking. Justek then slowly stood up and nudged his glasses back into place.
"Forget it...Let's just get back on course." He said, being the first to resume advancing forward.
"A-Alright..." Sarajin hurried to catch up with him and they continued on with the same silence, only tenser.
It wasn't long after this that Sarajin began to notice the Rot Walkers moving. Ten of the wolf-like entities were huddled up in a pack and slowly trailing them from behind.
It quickened his heart rate but he took deep breaths to try and steady it, remembering what can lure them in.
That seemed to slow them down, just a little.
Justek was grabbing hold of the side of his head and groaning, biting his teeth down and making these barely comprehensible comments...
The one sentence he could make out "Are we near that place...?" was followed by Justek's hand tightening and his fingernails biting into his skin slightly.
Sarajin quickly turned his head back again and not only saw the Rot Walkers gaining footing on them, but the ground was rising in various spots.
That the night sky felt dimmed by the seconds was doing little to ease Sarajin's worries. He ran past Justek and took a look around, "Maybe there's another Tribe nearby?"
He leaned his head out and saw something glowing in the distance. A forest of trees, not unlike Tanglefae's, surrounded a quiet village in a rectangular shape.
The leaves had an ethereal purple-white glow and moved, seemingly independent of any breeze. The tree trunks were pitch black, amplifying their presence. It was mystifying and alluring all at once, but there was this eerie vibe that came off from within...
Still, it was a place to hide for now.
With quick and decisive thinking Sarajin turned around and tugged at Justek's sleeve, trying to pull him towards the trees, "I think we should go there until morning."
Justek raised his head and began to dully murmur, "A forest of pale white trees...South of Sancturia...And..."
He then craned his head back and his eyes widened, completely drained of color. He then reversed things on Sarajin by grabbing his wrist hard and shouting, "We need to move, NOW!"
But instead of pulling towards that white forest he was running to the West as quickly as he could, dragging Sarajin's poor feet along the ground.
"J-Justek, where are you going?!"
"Anywhere but there!" He screamed.
Sarajin grit his teeth from the pain coming from his reddening feet and looked back. The rotting wolves began to run at them quicker than the wind, while more and more mounds formed in the ground around them.
And from those mounds emerged hands depraved of flesh...Human hands.
Justek dragged to a complete stop, with these skeletal warriors, clad in broken, rusted armor and half-broken swords and spears, joining alongside the wolves to surround them completely.
"Shit...!" Justek bit his teeth down into a tense scowl.
Two of the wolves wasted no time lunging at them. Justek shoved forward between them and they smashed into each other, breaking their skulls apart and smushing together into a rotten puddle.
Justek then pulled to his right, evading the swing of one of the skeletons at the cost of a scar on his shirt.
"Ah!" Screamed Sarajin, who had to pull away to avoid getting cut himself.
The two wolves that jumped at them reformed with broken faces but their bodies poised to strike again.
Justek continued to evade the Rot Walkers with Sarajin being towed around. But the rotting beasts were relentless, and Sarajin was wondering, "H-How are going to get out of here?!"
"S-Shut up! I'm trying to think!" Justek screamed in a panic.
A wolf nearly bit it's teeth down onto Sarajin's leg, forcing Justek to toss him back a fair few feet away. Justek's pupils were slowly turning into slits, and he brought his foot up and smashed the rotting's beast skull underfoot.
Yet it continued to press forward as a pile of sludge, teeth forming out around the base of his foot.
Justek's eyes glowed and his mouth opened, bits of dark blue flame spewing out the side. Following a brief fit of frightening laughter, Justek said, "Fine then you foul beasts...!"
He roared out a powerful plume of fire that burned the beast down into a smoldering stain on the ground over the course of fifteen long seconds.
During which Sarajin stood there, hands clenched together before his chest, worried for the state of his friend's mind.
"J-Justek..."
When the fires parted Justek was hunched over and grinning, embracing the fracturing state of his mind with delight and screaming out to the beasts. But they were not the target of his rage...
"T-Too proud to use my powers, am I...?! I will show you...I WILL SHOW ALL OF YOU...!"
He spread his fingers apart and the visceral sounds of breaking bone and flesh came from Justek's back, a fight which bone won handily.
A pair of wings emerged from his spine and became consumed in a thin, vein-y blue membrane spilling from the gap in his back.
His body began to grow to twelve feet in size, as draconic features protruded out from every aspect of Justek's body.
Sarajin had bore witness to the face of these beasts but seeing this ghastly transformation occur before his very eyes, to his best friend no less, could only be reacted to with one action...Silence.
Justek's fingers molded together as claws ripped from under his fingernails. His wings spread to their full breadth of twenty feet and absorbed the moonlight to cast his shadow over the rotting beasts.
The rotting wolves leaped at him first, only to be smashed together via the back of his hand.
Justek thrust his head down, the only remnant of his humanity being the short haired mane on the back of his horned head.
He let out a roar that shook the skies, courageous against the onslaught of decaying monstrosities that piled at him, desperate to make him another number in their endless horde.
But Justek flailed viciously against their onslaught, breaking and splattering the beasts upon the ground with little effort, and razing the ground with blue flames.
And he smiled all the while, that piercing, fanged grin leaving Sarajin's face pale and his body numb.
Self-loathing, disgrace and hate can break even the calmest man...Or turn them into a beast. And at this point, Justek was being absorbed by his primal urges.
As the beast laid in puddles at his feet, struggling to reform, he stood between them all and craned his head into the sky with another triumphant roar.
And the darkness...roared back.
The ground trembled as Justek turned his head to observe the gamut of land to his right.
Trembling land and clattering pebbles heralded the arrival of a King. Though second only to the Devil, this monster rode through the land uncontested in size and ferocity.
Standing twenty feet tall and made mostly of bone, it stood as a pale reflection of Justek's form, a dragon deprived of it's flesh. The right side of it's marrow jaw was melting off, it's eyes hollow and shaped like broken diamonds.
It's tail lugged across the ground, femurs protruding out like quills. It's wings were drenched in ash.
The fear it invited could not compare to the Devil, but for Sarajin, it's presence was an ill-reminder of what it's like to know the chill of death nearing...
And yet Justek, through madness alone, charged at the beast and butted his horns into its chest. The beast, barely fazed, shrieked as it lunged it's right claw at Justek's face.
Justek grabbed it's claw and crushed it, then did the same to the other claw when it came towards him.
The two tore at each other, Justek's flesh proving stronger but mortal, as no matter how much rot Justek tore away the beast kept drawing it back into itself like it was magnetic.
Sarajin swallowed deep and pulled his head up, a couple tears steadily dripping from his eyes.
The two beasts' silhouettes melded together, barely distinguishable from one another under the moon's murky light.
All of Sarajin's insecurities and weaknesses rose from his heart and manifested as the only way he felt he could help, "JUSTEK! STOP!"
For that brief moment, Justek's pupils flickered with their human shape and he turned his head aside. Sarajin was panting and crying, knees clicking against one another.
And because he did that, the rotting dragon was able to strike.
Opening its mouth wide, it spewed a blast of polluted brown and purple flames point-blank across Justek's bodies.
In a matter of seconds Justek's draconic body melted away and he was forced back, rolling across the ground in his normal body, tired and battered.
Sarajin flinched and then ran to his side, sliding down onto his knees and grabbing hold of his friend's head to prop him up.
Justek opened his weary eyes and forced a smile, remarking in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."
"W-We're going to get out of here!" Shouted Sarajin.
"No no no..." Justek kept saying over Sarajin's voice.
"Don't...don't give up Justek!" Sarajin said, crying his eyes out.
The rotting dragon's shadow grew closer, it now joined by it's smaller kin now fully reformed.
Sarajin stared the mighty beast down, knowing full well he was an insect ready to be crushed beneath it's rotting heel.
On this night, this night of the full moon, clad in violet, the two's stories were sure to come to an end, but at least they had each other.
...But "The end" never came to be.
Suddenly, every last one of these horrid, godforsaken creatures stopped. The largest of them raised their heads to the South, and was joined by it's horde.
Then the fearsome dragon shrieked and turned around, running across the wilds with the wolves at its tail, and the skeletons burying themselves deep underground.
Sarajin gasped for breath and stared long and hard at the retreating beasts. His breaths then started to create vapor.
With a quick swallow he smiled and muttered, "W-We survived?"
But a quick look at his friend showed that he was still trembling, his pupils shrunken. He gave him a couple peppy nudges on the back of the head to try and help him up.
"H-Hey, it's alright...We're alive."
Justek mildly shook his head with an unmoving expression.
The air felt colder, and Sarajin's breaths got thicker. Then came another shadow from behind, and the subtle sound of footsteps.
When Sarajin raised his head, a figure of enigmatic beauty was beginning to pass them by.
Slender and frail in looks, she nevertheless carried herself with poise and confidence. Her body was clad in a black and violet kimono with white cherry blossom petals decorating it, mostly in the lower half. However, the right sleeve remained off, the hand protected by a dainty black bridal glove as it carried a wooden black and violet parasol with more of that flowery design underneath it.
Beneath the kimono she wore a sleeveless black robe with faded red and blue strings tying tightly around her curveless figure.
There was no way to look upon her face beyond the smile she wore, for the rest was guarded by an eyeless helmet with multiple segments made to resemble the tips of tendrils pulled back, and a chin guard that resembled tiny fangs. And coming out of the back of the helmet were these crimson braided ropes.
But that just added to the mystery, giving her an allure that Sarajin could not draw his eyes away from.
She passed them by and continued onwards, revealing the last of her appearance present in his gaze: Her long, messy black hair with randomly placed blue highlights.
The shadow she cast was curiously, just a circle at her feet.
The longer Sarajin continued to lay eyes on her, he sensed that there was a familiarity to her presence and that perhaps, she might have been the reason the Rot Walkers dispersed.
Being careful not to drop Justek, Sarajin stood and rushed a couple feet ahead to get within speaking range, "U-Ummm...Excuse me!"
Justek forced himself to stand and then muttered, "S-Sarajin, wait...!"
The woman continued to walk away, prompting Sarajin to say, "I don't know how you did it, but you saved us from those Rot Walkers!"
Justek grabbed hold of his shoulder and said with a frightened hiss, "Don't engage with that...that thing!"
Sarajin looked at him for a moment and said, "Justek it's ok, we don't need to be scared anymore."
Sarajin brushed him off and moved a couple feet further ahead, failing to catch the shadow as the lady's feet moved towards him.
Sarajin put his hands on his shaky knees and bowed his head, "My name is Sarajin Stratos! I just want to thank you for..."
He suddenly felt a warmth coming from his chest, the green, blue and yellow lights of the Wellspring's power faintly glowing from within.
"Helping...us?"
When he raised his head the woman was now standing a few feet in front of him with their eyes meeting perfectly aligned.
They were the same height but there was age and maturity visible across the woman's body. Between the glove and robe were a few healed scars on slightly wrinkled skin.
And this close, Sarajin could see that nothing was coming out of the left sleeve of her kimono...
But his gaze was forced to meet hers against his will, even when unsure if there were eyes behind that helmet.
His heartbeat picked up and left his face feeling warm and red in the cheeks. The woman's smile persisted, widening subtly as only a hum escaped it.
Without warning Sarajin felt a shove from underneath and looked behind him to see that a four-fingered claw made entirely out of this black mass had emerged from his own shadow.
Said claw lifted him up and pushed him towards the woman, who gently let go of her parasol into the grasp of another hand emerging from her shadow.
She then took Sarajin on her arm with ease and held him there like he was a baby.
Sarajin was too dumbstruck to get more than a stutter edgewise as the woman began to walk right past Justek.
Sarajin looked over the woman's shoulder and saw Justek reaching his hand out, aghast at what was happening.
Justek then began to run towards them, his legs looking weak as he did, "L-Let go of him you MONSTER!"
Suddenly, many of those shadowy claws erupted from beneath the woman's feet, flying at Justek without a care.
Sarajin's heart skipped a beat until a flash of amethyst light shone from around Justek's neck. Justek became surrounded in a spherical barrier and the claws repeatedly lashed against it, sliding off and attempting to redirect course to break it.
All they did was push Justek further and further away until finally retreating back under the woman's feet. The only effect this had on the two young men was to leave them silent and in shivers.
The woman paused for a moment, glanced over her shoulder and then let out another hum.
She continued moving forward, and Sarajin watched as his friend was carried away by the magic barrier towards the west side of the planet.
It was a relief to know that he was probably going to be alright...But that didn't bode well for him.
Now he had no one to rely on but himself in the presence of this mysterious waif. Yet, despite her casual display of power just then...He didn't feel scared at all.
It wasn't the constant smile or the dainty appearance that disarmed him, no no no...There was something about her that he couldn't explain...this sense of familiarity that was similar to his parents.
So for now, he'd trust in this familiar feeling and let her carry him to whatever destination she intended to go.
She was going to that forest of white leaves, which now looked a little purplish. The leaves rustled with an inviting tune, and the woman began to move between the trees.
It looked as though the trees were sliding out of the way, like soldiers paying their respect to their queen.
Sarajin looked up at the leaves dancing hypnotically, with the moon hanging directly above them. Only now did it occur to him that it was coated by a violet hue, which was slowly peeling away, barely a splinter by the time he was finished being carried through this forest.
And so one strange sight was replaced with another.
Inside the forest was a small village with columns of wooden houses, each having a distinct appearance to them. Some had sliding doors made of paper. A couple had tassels dangling out the windows. Curiously, a good number of these houses were merging with the trunks of black bark trees nearby.
Atop these trees were these tiny pitch black petals that gave off a faint, white glow, making them pop out like the stars in the sky.
And all the citizens of this humble walked among these trees like normal. Children were popping out of their respective shadows to spook other children, and there were pets in the form of small gray cats without mouths, but two-tails, each alight with blue flames at the tip.
The people of this village wore robes similar to the woman's, prioritizing darker shades of color. However, only she had her one sleeve off. But it was hard to get a feel for what these people felt, for every single one of them wore a different looking mask.
There were masks with the mouth exposed, masks with horns, masks with glass eyes, masks with multiple eyes, each telling a story of the person's personality or beliefs without requiring speech.
"What is this place?" Thought Sarajin.
He continued to look around and noticed that the sky had gained this somewhat chalky appearance, with only the moon stationed above them.
Instead of stars, the night sky was aglow with the wispy lights of tiny fireflies.
The woman began to rise, carrying him up a curving path of flat, spread out stone steps to a larger house at the very top.
To their left beyond a crooked fence was a spiral hill that seemed quite large and imposing. It's land mass was pulling apart and levitating like a thin walkway, ending at a pointed peak with an arched stone waiting at the top.
The woman continued to walk towards the house and Sarajin caught a look at it. Basking in the light of numerous purple flame torches, this three-story structure was wide and distinct from any other, not just in this village but the whole world.
It's third floor was separated from the rest, hovering over violet cascading energy shaped like a lily flower.
It had board curtains for each window and a wide, paper doorway leading in, which the woman's shadows opened for her as she drew near.
And inside a dull pink carpet with a black, tassel border led the way up a few steps to a lone throne. The throne was painted blood red and had cushioned black seats. It was just wide enough to fit her, and not a centimeter more.
At its side laid a somewhat larger cat from all the rest. It was pitch black with pointier ears that went up with a slight curl. It had a mouth, or at least the appearance of one, and three tails that were long and sleek, all curled up together at it's legs.
From the gaps between its claws up it's legs it had dark purple lines with a slight, slimy look to them.
When the shadowy hands shut the door, the woman finally lowered her arm to let Sarajin go.
Sarajin dropped down and took a couple steps forward out of a sense of wonder for the palace's aesthetics. The walls were fully painted but were they made of wood? Stone? The roof was definitely wooden and polished at least.
There were other rooms down the halls, past more paper doors. Were more people living here?
It had to all depend on what type of person this stranger was...If she was even a person at all.
Sarajin shook his head out of shame for thinking that way, but...It's not like he had much else to go on beyond her otherworldly appearance.
She hadn't spoken yet. And some of that blame lay squarely on him for not trying to speak. This whole night had been one event after another and he was starting to feel fatigued.
Then, he felt her hand rest upon his shoulder. It sent a shiver down his spine, even if the feeling of her touch was as frail as a leaf.
He turned around and was face-to-face with her smile once more. She was feet away but slowly drifted closer without appearing to be walking.
Her shadowy hand folded the parasol up and handed it back to her, with her putting the tip at the ground, and using it like a crutch.
And finally, after much anticipation and curiosity, she spoke.
"Do you know where you are?"
Her tone was the embodiment of a mother's touch: Gentle, soft and smooth, with the ability to ease even the most hardened soul into a state of relaxation.
Yet, there was something off. A hint of sadness, perhaps?
Sarajin shook his head slowly and said, "This is a...Tribe?"
Though the vibe around the woman screamed melancholic, she continued to smile as she whispered, "I see..."
"You are correct," She continued, "This is Obscura, the Village Denied to Blind Eyes."
"Obscura?" Sarajin crossed his arms and with a little thought, realized what that entailed and that threw him off for a moment, "T-This Tribe's element is...Darkness, isn't it?"
The woman nodded, "Yes. Are you surprised?"
Sarajin had a blank stare as he replied, "Y-Yeah...This place is beautiful. I always thought that darkness was...scary."
"It is," She said pleasantly, "But it is also beautiful, and free."
She slowly extended her hand out towards him, letting the parasol remain suspended in place, "And with this hand that reigns over shadows, I, Ophelia, wish to welcome you to my home, Sarajin Stratos."
Sarajin began to extend his hand out and then lingered on that name, whispering it with curiosity, "Ophelia..."
"Is there something wrong?" She said.
Sarajin sprang up and then shook her hand, "I-I just think that's a...fitting name."
"Hmm." Ophelia continued to smile, and hold on to his hand. He wanted to pull away but she did not let go. And there was no struggle to be had. She began to knead her fingers between the bones in his hand, causing him to squirm.
"A-Ah...!"
"My my, your muscles are tense," She said with soothing curiosity, "And there's many small cracks in your skin. You keep yourself busy, don't you?"
"It..." Sarajin winced while trying to smile, "It's been a long night..."
"Hmm," She slowly withdrew her hand to the parasol and put it over her shoulder, "Three doors to your right, you will find the palace's sauna. Feel free to shed your clothes and take a dip to soothe both body and soul."
She walked around him and scaled the steps to the throne, where she put her parasol down beside it. The cat opened one of it's yellow eyes and flicked a claw up, returning to its rest once more.
Sarajin's gaze lingered on her as he moved down the hall, and headed for the door in question. He slid it open and was greeted by a blanket of steam to the face.
This room had a flower-shaped basin waist deep with purple tiles and bubbling water. There was a little cool air coming in from the open wall in the back, which led to a garden bed of these red plants where, instead of leaves, it had a bunch of drooping, pin thin branches with unopened black buds.
"Is it safe?" He whispered.
Before going too deep, he dipped one of his toes in the water to test it. His whole body trembled but the soreness in his feet slowly began to ooze away.
He pulled out and breathed a sigh of relief, then smiled.
He then began to shed his clothing until there was nothing on him but the bare essentials. After neatly folding his clothing off to the side, he walked towards the center of the water and felt all his woes melt away.
The water was at the perfect temperature to enjoy without fear of ill effects. And the steam opened all the pores in his skin to clean any dirt out.
Sarajin sat against the back of the basin and closed his eyes, leaning his head back with a smile that'd be the envy of enlightened monks.
"This is nice..." He sighed, "I wish Justek could've been here to enjoy this..."
He opened his eyes with a dour mood and sighed some more, "I wonder what happened to him? He was carried away by some kind of...magic barrier. Was that...his parents' doing?"
The events of moments ago were a blur to him now...And he wasn't intending to break through the fog, not when blood and violence awaited him.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, resolving to himself, "Once I'm done exploring Obscura a bit I'll head home. Then tomorrow I'll go check on him."
But just how long was "a bit" really when faced with such powerful warmth. He really, REALLY did not want to leave this sauna. He was melting away, becoming one with the water. His chin began to dip down as he slid further in, and eventually, his breaths formed bubbles on the surface.
He was brought above water when he heard the door slide open, the silhouette of a woman cast in the shadows of the steam.
They walked into the water without pause, one gentle, quiet step at a time. Once they were fully submerged in the water and uttered a deep moan, Sarajin's heart began to race.
"O-Ophelia?" He reached out with his voice, "Is...is that you?"
"Yes?" She said with a tiny giggle, "Are you enjoying yourself, Sarajin Stratos?"
"Y...yes?" Sarajin shook a little, shyly pulling himself back up against the wall.
"Heh heh, you are still so young, so clean..."
He could hear movement in the water, for Ophelia's body was drifting closer, becoming more visible by the second.
Sarajin trembled a little more, his face turning bright red as he tried to close his eyes.
"It's ok to look," She giggled some more, staying afloat in the middle of the sauna with the gentle paddling of her feet against the floor, "There's nothing worth seeing anyways."
Sarajin's curiosity and growing body made him take a peek, and what he saw surprised him.
No, it was not that she laid her body bare for him to see without a hint of shame. But rather, that her body was more broken than whole.
She was covered in scars from head-to-toe. Some healed, others deep and still a light shade of pink. Her face in particular was more scarred flesh than human, with her deep red eyes partially shut because of it, and her right ear lobe cut off.
And her left arm was only half there, just a blob of in-grown flesh without bone or muscle to allow it to move.
Yet despite looking as cracked as tree bark and more worn down than the ruins of Oreore, she continued to smile. And that cast her appearance in a different light for the young Sarajin.
For she still had a perfectly slender body with two small lumps on her chest, and decently wide hips. Her lips maintained this stunning black gloss that complimented her long, soaked hair.
He could only be unnerved by a few measly scars for so long before an innocent mix of courage and politeness forced him to say, "You're...beautiful."
Her eyes widened for a brief, impossible to forget moment, and was followed by a curt and tender laugh, "You gaze upon me and see...beauty? Oh sweet little child, you are free to believe whatever you wish, I will not stop you...But the rest of the world will definitely disagree with you there. For I...am a monster."
Those words sent a chill down Sarajin's spine, eased by Ophelia's continued laughter that sounded cute, worthy of a woman half her age.
She pulled away and the steam settled down a little, allowing them to see each other from a distance. And that helped, cause he couldn't stop looking at her now that he knew what she really looked like.
That body could tell a story and the scars were the words etched in her book. But while the scars didn't scare him, it left him anxious to approach her about how she got this way.
It didn't seem like she cared...about much of anything really. So maybe she wouldn't mind being asked. Perhaps that's why she shed her clothes with such ease, to tempt him with the curiosity to ask.
But it was Ophelia who cast the first question, breaking the silence that was lasting for minutes on end, "How much mastery have you gained over the other elements, Sarajin Stratos?"
Sarajin flinched and before he could even start saying "How do you know about that?" she smiled further and brushed her hand out in an authoritative manner, "My eyes have bathed in darkness. There is nothing I cannot see."
"W-Well..." Captivated by her quick answer, Sarajin felt he had to respond in kind, "I only have three other elements at the moment but to be honest...I'm only good at making fruits and small plants."
"You control the powers of Nature, Water and...Electricity?" Ophelia pressed her fingertips against her lips and chuckled, "My, that's unexpected."
"Huh?"
With her masterful command over the mood, Ophelia shifted subjects in the blink of an eye, "Why do you struggle with these powers?"
"Well with Water specifically it's like..." Sarajin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I try to create water but when I open my eyes it disperses out of my hands."
"I see," Ophelia nodded, "It's because you are trying to constrain it, instead of letting it flow."
"Letting it...flow?"
Ophelia dipped her hand in the water and once she brought it up, letting it flow off as a series of tiny waterfalls, "Like the world we live in, water is in a constant state of flux. Never content to be in one place, it moves through various means, such as condensation, rivers, and rain drops..."
Once the last drop of water left her hand, she gestured it out with the pointer finger prominent, "You must become one with the flow and keep moving it forward, instead of trying to constrain it."
She then rested her hand flat on the surface and remarked, "This is the perfect time for you to practice, Sarajin Stratos. Show me that you have the capacity to let water roam free."
Sarajin nodded a couple times and then closed his eyes, attempting to summon the power of the Water Conduit Form. But his body was off-balance from everything Ophelia had dropped on him in the last few minutes together.
"My my," Ophelia chuckled, "It seems your mind first needs to be set free."
With a piercing snap of her fingers Sarajin felt his body change into the Conduit Form against his will. Though he didn't don the proper garb.
"H-How did you...?" Sarajin looked at her but only received her smooth, alluring gaze and tender smile in turn.
"Show me." She urged, and he complied, closing his eyes in the moment.
Taking another deep breath, he put all other thoughts out of his mind save for the sounds of the sea's waves swaying back and forth.
He then put that mentality towards the water around him and imagined a part of it moving. Just a small part, no bigger than his pinky, arching through the air and then landing back down with a tiny splash.
When he heard the affirming sound he opened his eyes with a few curious blinks. Then he tried again, wanting to make sure he captures the moment it happens.
A slightly larger stream of water leaped out and then splashed down, causing him to gasp. He then got playful with this power and made multiple streams of water hop out in a row, edging closer to Ophelia at the farthest point.
She continued to smile as she closed her eyes and whispered, "Magnificent. You are a quick learner, Sarajin Stratos."
Sarajin dropped his concentration and the water droplets fell back down. He then rubbed the back of his head and chuckled, "Well...I guess you were the right teacher for me."
He then creaked one open and returned to his normal self, "But...how do you know how to control Water?"
She went silent for a painful few seconds, then whispered gently, "There'll be time for answers later, young Sarajin. For now, could you please turn around for me?"
"Uhhh..." Sarajin waded around and then planted his knees against the ground, peeking over his shoulder to ask, "Like this?"
He felt a cold touch against the left side of his face and instinctively turned to face the source of it. It was one of those hands from before, except here, it looked a ghastly shade of white, only halfway formed.
While he was distracted by its appearance, Ophelia was able to drift over and put her one hand on the other side of his face, drenching it in water.
She began to stroke his hair, letting out a quiet hum as she did so.
The shadow hand brought up water to the other side of Sarajin's head and mimicked Ophelia's movements to perfection.
Sarajin shivered from her touch, as she was as close to him as she could possibly get without a direct hug.
Her slender knees rested atop his toes, allowing him to feel the scars. Her chest rested against his back when she pulled herself in, allowing herself better freedom to stroke his hair, molding it into something a little more clean.
Her hand was so soft and delicate, like a baby's touch. He didn't feel worried at all. She was pampering him like he was her own son.
And the only comment she made was, "You're a growing boy...You should take better care of your appearance."
When she was done she drifted away and went eerily silent. Sarajin turned around and looked at her, then tried to touch his hair.
"No." She said with a firm, authoritative voice.
She then gazed silently at his face, her eyes sinking. She continued to smile but there was this inherent...sadness to it.
Another shadow emerged from the water carrying a plate of glass for Sarajin to look at himself in. Ophelia had taken his mess of hair and slicked it back, leaving the bangs over his forehead alone.
Sarajin turned his head and had to look at himself for a bit to confirm it was still him looking back. He smiled and congratulated his appearance, "Wow, this...this looks good on me."
"You look more grown-up that way," Ophelia then chuckled, the shadows pulling the glass into a void underwater, "But let's not let your appearance prune with age either. Shall we get out now?"
Sarajin rose with a heavy blush in his cheeks, causing Ophelia to laugh some more.
"I will get out ahead of you and meet you in the room next door once we're both fully dressed. There's something I wish to give you."
She made good on her word and left the sauna without exposing her body to Sarajin's innocent eyes. Sarajin then stepped out and gave himself a quick dry with the help of the wind, donning his clothes on and stepping out into the hall.
He then went one door down and slowly peeled it back. There, standing fully dressed in the middle of the room was Ophelia, stroking her hand down a lone robe perched atop a wooden cross.
She then craned her head back as Sarajin wandered in, using a shadow to close the door behind him.
She then pulled the robe off from it's perch and extended it towards him atop her arm, "Try and put this on."
Sarajin examined the robe. It was a dark green color with faded brown clouds on the bottom half, and a hint of wrinkles throughout. It had been used many times, but seemed too big for someone like her...
Still, not one to spit at a stranger's generosity, Sarajin briefly took off his poncho to don the robe, trying the sash around his waist as tight as it could go.
By the time he was done it did look good on him...So long as you ignored it drooping to the ground and his fingertips barely making it out of the sleeves.
Sarajin felt warm and fuzzy wearing it, like it would be natural for him to have this on...when he's older.
It all came together though when one of Ophelia's shadow hands put his poncho back on over the robe, with her kneeling in front of him with that same mysterious, silent gaze.
She reached out slowly to touch his cheek with her fingertips, rubbing up beside his eyes, and then using her thumb to wipe a lingering bit of moisture from his face.
Then her hand stayed suspended there, Sarajin's gaze being magnetically drawn to where her eyes are.
He could feel the faintest hint of warmth behind her chilling touch, and it was almost like she could hear her elevated heartbeat.
She pulled her hand down to her knee and continued to smile, whispering to him, "Your eyes...they're still clear."
"..." Sarajin watched her stand and leave the room in silence.
He followed after her and found her back in her throne room, where she took a seat upon her domain, picking up the parasol and giving it a light twirl before spreading it over her head.
Sarajin stayed at the bottom of the steps, feeling an immeasurable gap between the two now that she took her place where she truly belonged.
Ophelia smiled and prodded him with a question, "Do you feel comfortable here, Sarajin Stratos?"
Sarajin immediately nodded and said, "This is a nice village you have here. It's very mysterious but...somehow inviting."
His eyes narrowed, fixated on Ophelia's growing smile, "You're...the most mysterious part of this place though."
"Does that tickle your fancy, when a woman is mysterious?" Ophelia chuckled, teasing him with her dry tone.
Sarajin blushed and rapidly shook his head, "N-Not that...! I just...feel like there's something about you I really, REALLY should be able to piece together but I just can't."
The gesture of Ophelia's closed parasol his way drew his gaze back up, as she commanded him with her soft and womanly voice, "Don't be afraid to free the truth from your heart."
Sarajin laid his hands at his side and with a firm nod, looked her square in the eyes and asked, "Ophelia...Is it possible you are...the Titan of Obscura?"
"Really child?" A lavishly baritone voice spoke up out of nowhere, "How dull are your senses to have come to such a poor conclusion?"
Sarajin swung his head around for a good while before that voice spoke up again with a quiet bluntness, "Over here. Lord almighty, you are blind."
Sarajin went towards the one spot he hadn't even considered looking, and saw the cat was staring straight at him with it's head curled up against its front paws.
Sarajin's mouth went agape as the beast raised it's head slightly and muttered without moving it's mouth, "Yes. It is me. Took you long enough."
"Y-You're the Titan...?" Sarajin quickly bowed his head and apologized, "I-I'm sorry, I thought you were a pet!"
The cat lurched upright and scoffed, "A pet? Such an off-base comment...I should bite your hand off for that."
Sarajin stood up and rubbed the back of his head, gesturing the hand out to emphasize his apology, "I-I just thought it was Ophelia because of the way my other elements were reacting around her..."
"Hmph." The cat laid back down and Ophelia chuckled.
"Let's just say Xiark has a had long standing arrangement with the rulers of Obscura," Ophelia laid her hand atop her chest, "And I...am the current host to his power."
Sarajin flinched and then tightened his teeth into a grimace, "You have the power of an entire Titan inside of you?"
"90 percent, actually," Xiark snipped back, "Honestly I may be a tired old creature but I am not dead you daft child."
"Though it's an unimportant distinction in the end," Ophelia remarked, "For my rule over darkness is uncontested."
Taking this new info into consideration, Sarajin boldly inquired, "Is...that why your body has all those scars?"
"Ha ha," Ophelia raised the back of her hand to her smile for a moment, "It is like I said before. I am a monster. That is why I have these scars."
"I...don't really get what she means by that, but..." Sarajin boldly took a step forward and asked, "Ophelia, can I ask you a question?"
"Ask away, you have more than earned my patience." She said with a floaty gesture of her hand.
"Is there any chance I can take a Trial to-"
"Absolutely not." Xiark interjected, standing upright on all fours and brushing his tails along the floor.
"B-But I didn't finish!" Sarajin said, waving his hands down in confusion.
"Ugh, I am far too old to be having this close of a bout with deja vu," Xiark laid back down and sighed, "Ophelia, you handle this."
"Xiark has sealed a contract with the village of Obscura," Ophelia addressed with authority, "Under no circumstances is anyone from outside the village to be allowed to take a fraction of the Wellspring's power."
"W-What?" Sarajin widened his eyes and took another step forward with his hands swung out, "Isn't there some exception that can be made? I need to get all the elements to-"
"Unite the Tribes?" Ophelia said, sending a chilling wind through the air that lingered all over Sarajin's body.
"Y-Yeah..." He stuttered, "How...how did you guess?"
"..." Ophelia dug her hand into the arm of her throne and sank back comfortably, "Tell me a little more about yourself, Sarajin Stratos...Where have your travels taken you so far?"
"...I-I've been to a few of the other Tribes, like-"
"Tanglefae, Aquamoria and Pulsa Minoria," Ophelia interjected, "And judging from the dirt you washed off your body, Oreore."
Ophelia's smile widened and she said in a dull, playful tone, "Am I wrong?"
Sarajin slowly nodded, backing away a couple steps and standing limply upright.
Ophelia turned her head slightly and wondered aloud, "I see no lack of conviction in your eyes. You truly, sincerely believe that by collecting the elemental powers like trinkets, it'll somehow lead to the Tribes uniting once more."
"Y-Yes..." However, Sarajin wasn't even certain in his answer, and he didn't know where or when that doubt had first been planted...
"Why?" Ophelia's single calm utterance made the seed of doubt bloom, with every successful word furthering its growth, "Tell me what's led you to believe that."
"Because-"
"They aren't that different from one another." She filled in the blanks with a frightening degree of accuracy, matching him tone for tone, lip to lip...
And with a chilling chuckle, she continued independent of his opinions, "And you'd be correct. Just not in the way your pure heart sees it."
"There is no true 'mankind' in this world," Ophelia spread her parasol overhead, "Only abhorrent beasts who have been allowed to run amok, consumed by primal urges."
Her smile continued to grow, striking Sarajin with a chilled arrow through the heart, and her words lodging it deeper, and deeper, "And they...are a violent, cowardly lot."
"T-That's not true!" Sarajin screamed.
"Because you've seen them in 'peace' time?" Ophelia shook her head, "Masks. All of which have been fabricated from delusions and fear."
"They hide their true nature because to accept one's faults is to accept their consequences. By pretending to be kind and welcoming, they can maintain this 'peace' while their hearts strengthen their violent urges for the next time they'll need to feast upon the blood of their fellow man."
"And never will they sit still and reflect upon the lives they have taken."
Sarajin clenched his fist and swung it out fiercely, "I've SEEN the kindness of other people! And there's nothing fake about it!"
"...Maybe you could dig up the long lost kindness in the soul of one person, or two, even three..." Ophelia's smile began to curl and her laughter, though subtle, increased the dread in the atmosphere, "But it's inconsequential tripe when so many souls have been drenched in filth."
"You do not cure cancer by removing the first cell after it has spread so far. No...when it has festered for so long, gotten so deep that it affects the very planet itself, there is nothing to do but cull it all and leave nothing behind."
"And that is what I did...I culled the cancer plaguing this world," Ophelia drew out her pause until she could hear Sarajin's heart skip a beat, at which point she slowly drew her hand out and pointed at him, "And brought mankind their 'peace'."
Sarajin's stomach began to curl as the revolting images of that massive bloodstain began to slam around in his mind. All the warnings he had been given, all the signs that could've prevented this truth from coming to light...He was a fool for ignoring them, and now it was too late, FAR too late.
His luck had run dry and left him face-to-face with the monster of whom none could speak their name.
And instead of fully succumbing to fear, Sarajin cried out in outrage, "You...you killed all those people!"
"I did." Ophelia admitted without hesitation.
"How...how could you do that?!"
"Ask that same question to anyone who has taken the life and they will make excuses: 'I had no other choice', 'He brought it upon himself', 'I-I didn't mean to'. But that is what separates me from them. They lie to escape their true selves, while I have chosen to embrace the truth."
Sarajin curled his fists against his chest and took a cautious step back, before fully succumbing to numbness in his feet.
"Mankind spills blood without end upon the planet's hollow ground and it, weakened and weary, takes it to fill a goblet. And though pained, it raised the blood in tribute to Heaven, only to call forth the will of Hell."
"And Hell answers with delight, heeding the violence of mankind with the gift of penance...Penance, in the form of a monster."
"I only lived as a human for five seconds after birth. And for every waking moment since I knew I was destined for a greater purpose, even if I did not see it clearly at first."
"And the day I turned those violent beasts to blood stains on the ground was my Rapture, a culling of the sinners as penance for their lies and violence."
"And at the cost of just a few hundred meaningless beasts, I have brought 'peace' to this world."
It was not the careless tone she took up that was unnerving. Nor was it the visceral words she chose to use.
She still smiled throughout.
And the only thing that kept Sarajin together was the faint warmth in his heart, born of kindness and a refusal to accept what she was saying, "That's NOT peace!"
"Not from a human's point of view," Ophelia replied, "But to me, keeping mankind's violent nature caged under a shroud of fear IS 'peace'."
"You're not a monster!" Sarajin shouted, a sentiment that surprised both himself and Ophelia. He grit his teeth and tried to reach out with such a tiny spark in his heart, "Or...did you really feel nothing when you took those lives?"
Ophelia was silent for a few seconds, then shook her head, her heart too thick with ice to be melted, "Why do you continue to try and see me as anything but what I have clearly shown you to be?"
However, when she raised her head, there was a melancholic vibe to her following choice of words, "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that you share the same foolish sentimentality towards humanity that Darnia did."
But if there was any sadness to pick out, it was overwhelmed completely by the name she dropped so casually into Sarajin's ears.
His eyes steadily widened and he backed away, stuttering quietly, "How...how do you know my father's name...?"
"No." Was what his mind was screaming at this moment.
He needed to escape, NOW.
He turned around and ran for the door, only for black shadows to wall him off completely, dimming the light in the palace.
He looked over his shoulder and saw a faint red glow coming from beneath Ophelia's helmet, with Xiark's own eyes glowing too.
"I don't want you to leave, Sarajin Stratos." Ophelia said, leaving her parasol sprawled out overhead as she freed her hand to snap her fingers.
The shadows continued to spread out and cover every door and window out of here, adding to that encompensing sense of dread around Sarajin's heart.
Sarajin forced his gaze into Ophelia's smiling face and watched as she laid her hand to rest on the arm of the throne, "You're a growing boy...Your eyes are still too clear to see the true beauty of this world. But don't worry. I'll mold you into a proper man in time."
The cold hands clad in shadow began to reach towards Sarajin from behind.
As he spun around to meet them the door was suddenly blown down by a powerful blast of wind that nearly swept Sarajin off his feet.
As the wind continued to spread throughout the entire palace Ophelia's smile truly began to shine, and she made her shadows retract to her side.
Beyond the falling dust and broken doors Sarajin stared in awe at the visage of none other than his father, clad in an iron expression that could only be described as vengeful and tired.
He slowly lowered his hand and growled, "You will not stain my son with your twisted ideals, Ophelia!"
"It's been a long time," Ophelia said with utter calm, "My love."
Next Time: A Father's Rage