5
Guardian:
The Noble Knight of Darkness
This is the tale of a warrior who gave himself to the darkness but retained a fragment of the light. This is his struggle to find out who he is and his struggle for freedom.
Winter in Vana 'diel can be very harsh on those who are not use to the cold; it tests not only your physical limits but also your mentality as well. Many brave warriors travel to the Northlands to put their bodies to the test but few come back, most fall prey not to the fiends but to the intensity of the weather. This winter morning a young Hume man awoke to the sound of the rooster. He stirred in his bed; he did not want to leave its warm sheets to go outside in cold to practice his swordsmanship. This Hume had been asleep for a long time and it was time for him to wake up. Prestlisev or Prest as his friends called him unwillingly woke up. He got dressed in regular clothes picked up his iron sword and left his mog house.
The air in Bastok was cold and frigid, breathing hurt because the air was so sharp. The wind blew in his face messing up his hair, Prest spent three hours trying to get his brown hair to spike up with gel it looked good for a while but the wind was so strong it blew his hair even though there was half a tub of gel in it. Prest walked around Bastok Markets looking for a place to find a hot meal or even just a hot place. He walked down the street and saw many children building snow men from the snow that had blanketed the city over night. Yule time was still quite a ways away, however, the president's men were already setting up a great tree in the center of Bastok Markets to act as the Yule tree. After wondering the town for a while finding every pub and restaurant in Bastok closed Prest reluctantly headed for the city gates to begin his job.
Prest had always dreamt of being a great warrior like those that everyone hears about in legends and stories. Unfortunately for Prest he did not do too well in the military academy and was rejected from the Republic's army but as a consolation prize they did set him up as a squire to an Iron Musketeer, similar to the War Warlocks in Windurst the Iron Musketeers guard the city gates against intruders. Prest's master decided to give all his duties to Prest while he collected the bounty. This did not please Prest but with times being hard and gil was scarce he had little choice but to accept the job and earn his meager wage. Normally Prest did not have much excitement at his job; all the fiends were long gone due to the unnatural winter in Bastok. Bastok is a very dry and airy region so for there to be snow even around Christmas is remarkable.
"I hate this bloody job." Prest thought as he took his position outside the gate. "One day I'll go up to Iron Muskrat and tell him that he can shove this bloody job right up his bloody arse." thought Prest angrily. He leaned up against the gate looking at the Gustabeg, it was a very unfamiliar sight. The entire desert region of Gustaberg that surrounded Bastok was covered in a sheet of snow and ice. "Damn what's up with this bizarre weather?" Prest said aloud. "Hmm what is it Hun?" a female voice from behind asked. This caught Prest off guard because he didn't even realize he was talking aloud let alone talking aloud to himself. He turned around and saw the other gate guardian, an elder Hume woman named Katarina, despite her age she had the body of a goddess. Her auburn hair pulled into a small pony tail in the back excited Prest. "Oh hello Katarina I didn't see you there." He said stammering for words. Katarina laughed lightly "Ahaha yes I could tell." She said flashing him a crooked smile. Prest blushed a little bit. They talked for a little while but then Katarina bid him farewell seeing as she was on an important mission to see the consulate of Bastok in Jeuno. "Oh god how I envy her, she gets to leave and go do something other than waiting here for all hell to freeze over." Prest thought bitterly but then the memory of her smile made him content.
Prest stood at his post all day and well into the night, his relief never came. Prest at this point was very agitated, he stood at the gate all day long and nothing exciting happened, he had hoped Katarina would be back but she hadn't returned from Jeuno yet. Prest was getting ready to leave when he heard an unmistakable shriek for help. Prest drew his blade and ran towards the shriek, it grew louder and louder until he saw a young Elvaan cleric being attacked by a Galka. "Hey you stop!" Prest shouted at the Galka. The hulking beast turned towards Prest, the Galka was wearing the armor of an Iron Musketeer but he still wore his helmet so Prest could not make out his face. The Galka turned around and drew his blade; it was so large that he had to hold it with two hands. Prest at this point nearly shit his pants, if he was hit with that then he was done for. Prest told the young Elvaan woman to stay back, she obeyed and crawled away in the snow; there was a puddle of blood where she was sitting. The Galka charged at Prest and swung his sword, Prest jumped out of the way, if he had tried to parry the Galka might have cut his blade in half. Prest tried to think of a way to get away from his assailant but there was no way out he would have to fight his comrade. The Galka swung his sword again narrowly missing Prest, in the delay of the swing the Galka left his side open to an attack; Prest saw this and drove his sword deep into the Galka's side right in between the leather straps holding his breast plate up. Blood gushed from the wound and the Galka howled in pain and fury. Prest twisted the hilt of his sword and kicked off of the Galka, his entire arm and sword blade were drenched in warm, sticky, hot blood. The Galka fell to the ground, the blood continued to flow onto the snow. Prest was breathing heavily trying to comprehend what had just happened and what he just did then he heard the Elvaan crying. "Damn it! I almost forgot about her." He thought, angry with himself. He ran over to her and knelt down beside her "Are you ok Miss…" "Callista." The young woman replied through her tears. "What happened?" Prest asked talking to her in a calm and caring voice. "I was attacked by fiends on my way here, you see I'm a noble from San'd Oria coming to see the president of Bastok on a visit. I called for help as my guards were quickly disposed of and this kind Galka came and killed the fiends that had plagued me." Callista said choking back tears; her elegant white gown was covered in blood and tears. "What happened next Miss?" Prest said and at that Callista burst into tears of which no level of comforting could stop her. She managed to stop crying so she could tell him what happened. "Well we started walking towards the city and I made a comment about the lighthouse he asked me if I wanted to go see it, naively I said 'yes.' When we got there I was looking over the cliff then all of a sudden Iron Muskrat turned around and started talking to himself…" Callista said bursting into tears once more. "Did you say Iron Muskrat?" Prest said unsure of what he just heard Callista nodded. He walked over to the corpse and removed the helmet and to his horror he saw the lifeless eyes of his commander Iron Muskrat staring right back at him. Prest let out a scream, now horrified at what he'd done. Prest sank to his knees and wept. Later he would learn that Iron Muskrat had been possessed by a spirit and under that influence he raped Callista.
The next few weeks seemed all but a blur to Prest, he no longer smiled or laughed. He went to his job every day with out complaint even in the fiercest of blizzards. Although the Republic granted him a pardon for the death of Iron Muskrat he could not help but feel that it was his fault, his comrades stopped talking when ever he drew near and his beloved Katarina would tremble when ever he approached her. Prest was officially broken. He felt no more joy in his life, at night all he had were nightmares of that fateful night where his world was turned upside down.
One night Prest had a dream or rather a nightmare, he was standing on top of a castle in the Northlands. The castle was very tall seeing as when he looked over the ledge he saw the clouds. In the center of the tower he was standing on was a circle drawn in what looked like blood. Prest approached the circle and once he stepped in he could not exit. Prest wondered what was going on but when ever he tried to speak his mouth uttered no words. Prest was not alone in that circle. There was another figure standing across from him. It was a Galka, he was wearing the armor of a death knight. Prest looked at the Galka in total fear. The Galka spoke, "Prest you have stained your sword with the blood of an innocent. It was I who possessed Muskrat, you slain Muskrat with out thinking twice about it, I like that about you." The Galka took a step forward. "My name is Zeid. I am the founder of the Order of Death Knights, once we flourished across the land but now since the Crystal War has come to an end we are few. You have what it takes to inherit the sword of darkness." Zeid took another step towards Prest. "You can either accept your fate or you can be twisted by it and used as the next shell for my spirit." Zeid pointed at Prest and Prest's body knelt despite what his mind wanted. "I can see into your heart and I see the hatred you have for the Iron Musketeers and your job, I can also see the love you have for a certain someone, it would be a pity if some misfortune befell her." At those words Prest flashed Zeid a look of intense anger and hatred. "Yes hate me my young apprentice. I want you to come to the mines tomorrow when you awaken I have a gift for you." At those words the castle melted away and Prest fell into darkness deeper and deeper and deeper until that's all there was: darkness.
Prest woke immediately drenched in a cold sweat. Sweat trickled down his face and his chest, he was breathing heavily. He looked around his room nothing seemed out of the ordinary then he shifted his gaze towards the window it was snowing harder, ice had begun to form around the buildings. Prest got dressed as if he were in a trance, controlled by an unknown puppet master, Prest left his mog house with out his sword, he did not even make a sound as he closed the door.
The cold no longer bothered him; the wind no longer was a hindrance. Prest walked through Bastok Markets and through the archway that lead to the mines. It was very early in the morning so no one was awake to see him. He entered the mines and climbed the ladders that lead into Korroloka. Prest continued walking the fiends did not even pay him a second glance. Prest walked in and took a sharp left then a sharp right, he came to a rickety old boat docked at a pier. Any normal person would never have gotten on it in a million years but at this moment Prest was unaware of what he was doing, it was as if he was trapped in some sort of dream world. Prest sat down in the boat; the boat had taken off once Prest sat down. The ride was very brief it only took him down river a little bit. Once docked Prest stood up, a Galka wearing death knight armor emerged from the shadows.
The puppet master's hold on the puppet faded. "What the, where the hell am I?" Prest thought out loud as he looked around, his last memory being going to sleep in his nice warm bed, Prest did not even noticing the death knight standing before him. "I summoned you." A raspy voice from underneath the black helmet said. "I called you here to bestow upon you the sword of darkness my apprentice." Zeid handed Prest a long slender rusty sword. "Although it may not look powerful it has tremendous power. Once bathed in the blood of innocence it will unlock the power that lies dormant within you." Prest marveled at the craftsmanship of the sword it was indeed ancient. Prest nodded to his master. "When you get on that boat you will awaken to find yourself in bed, you will then arm yourself with that sword and go kill what ever is outside your door then bring it back here to me." Zeid said, he handed Prest a vial full of black liquid. "Drink that when you enter that realm it will give you protection while sealing your foe's fate." Zeid said and then he returned to the shadows from whence he came. Prest got back on that rickety little boat and then everything went black.
Prest emerged from his slumber disoriented; all he could recall was something about a death knight and a sword of darkness. Prest sat up in bed and was amazed to find a vial of black liquid on his table and an ancient slender looking sword leaning against his bed post. Prest immediately recalled everything. He quickly got dressed equipped his new sword and then looked at the vial. Prest was in no rush to drink what ever it was, for all he knew it was poison. He uncorked the top of the vial and took a deep whiff of its contents, "Strange "he thought. It smelled like sand. Prest drank the black liquid, once it touched his lips it instantly lost its liquid quality, he felt as if he was drinking sand but he obeyed Zeid's command and drank every last drop. The liquid warmed his body and gave him a massive migraine that lasted a few minutes, when the migraine had struck him it felt as if he was being torn apart in side and then he was given a big jerk as his muscles contracted and then, it stopped. When Prest came to his senses he opened the door to his mog house and stepped outside into the darkness.
The streets were overrun with Quadav, an over grown like turtle beastman, and the sun was eclipsed by the moon. What was even stranger was that there was no snow on the ground; Bastok looked like it did when in the prime months of summer except that there was a solar eclipse and the town was overrun with beastmen. "Oh shit." Was all that Prest could say as he saw his home being ravaged by Quadav. Prest lost all control over himself in that instant. He stormed down the steps swinging his sword wildly. He took the head off a nearby Quadav then lunged at another walking by. Soon all the Quadav in the town were surrounding him. Prest fought each one, as they fell and their blood bathed the sword of darkness Prest could feel his own power growing. After slaying a small group of young Quadav Prest lost himself to the darkness. After the streets were lined with corpses and he was bathed in blood Prest stopped, nothing was left to kill everything was dead. He sank to his knees and wept.
"Am I still me?"
"Who am I?"
"I'm so cold."
"What is this place?"
"I won't let his darkness consume me."
Prest let out a cry, calling upon the goddess Altana to save him. "Goddess please, have pity upon me."
"Prestlisev…I hear your prayers, as long as you rely upon that sword of darkness you will never be yourself. I'm afraid that the Prestlisev you once were is no more, you have been consumed by darkness."
Prest's heart dropped when he heard the goddess' divine voice ring in his head. "Zeid! Show yourself to me!" Prest called his voice echoing through the deserted town. "Yes my young apprentice?" Zeid responded emerging from the shadows. "There" Prest said flinging the sword at Zeid. "Your sword has been bathed in the blood of the innocent of this world. I no longer need nor desire it." Prest said. "You insolent bastard!" Zeid roared. "I heard your desires for power; I gave you the choice you chose to walk down this path yourself!" Prest turned around "Yes I did. I have unlocked the power that dwelled inside of me and as a result I will no longer be the person I once was. I can accept that but I will never accept you!" Prest shouted. Zeid raised his hand and a burst of dark thunder emerged from his finger tips and shot Prest in the back, Zeid laughed as Prest howled in pain. "You can never escape from the darkness my apprentice, some day you will learn and just so others know your treachery I give to you the dark mark upon your breast!" Zeid said as the world they were in began to blur before Prest's eyes as it swirled into darkness.
Prest stirred in his bed, the sun's light crept into his dark room through the window blinds. He stirred once more then sat up and yawned, he scratched his head. He looked down and saw the mark of a black viper across his breast, he felt it with his fingers; it hurt to touch. Prest looked out his window and the snow and ice were gone, it was as if they had never been. He smiled to himself knowing that he conquered the darkness that nearly consumed him but how long; he wondered would his peace last before he succumbs to the darkness in his heart once more.
"Master! Kupo." His moogle said, "You have a letter! Kupopo." The moogle handed him a letter with the presidential seal on it. Prest read the letter then crumpled it up; it told him that his position was moved to the consulate of Bastok in Jeuno. Prest packed his things and he left at once, he stepped out into the warm sunlight that covered Bastok and wondered when the last time he was truly content with his life.
Prest rode a chocobo to Jeuno, there he spent many months working at the consulate doing odd jobs left and right yet Katarina was nowhere to be found. One day Prest received a letter from a being he thought was long gone from his life. Zeid had found him once more. Prest looked at the letter and it beckoned him to go to Beaudeaux in the Pashow Marshlands. At first Prest did not want to go but then he realized that he needed closure and to rid himself of that curse once and for all. He left for the marsh at once.
The ride to the marsh took but a few hours, when he entered the marsh he was not surprised to see that it was raining since it usually rains on the marshlands. Prest rode his chocobo through the Quadavs mowing them down to protect his steed. Prest was getting nauseous with anticipation, he kept wondering what would happen when he found Zeid? Would Zeid kill him? Posses him? Torture him like he did in that shadow world? Prest could not fathom in mind what potential horrors awaited him. Suddenly Prest heard a thud and a very loud "OUCH!" He stopped his chocobo at once and investigated the problem. Underneath the big yellow chicken like bird he saw a small Tarutaru mage all bruised from the collision. "Oww…" the little Tarutaru moaned, "that hurt…" Prest helped him to his feet and asked if he was alright but the Tarutaru was still a little disoriented from the accident. "Shit, I'm going to be late but I can't leave this little guy alone like this the fiends will get him." Prest said. He asked the Tarutaru what his name was and he said "Sogre" then proceeded to pass out. Prest put him on the chocobo with him and rode off towards the Quadav stronghold that is Beaudeaux.
Prest tied the chocobo to a tree outside Beaudeaux and he entered alone. Shortly after walking in he saw the death knight Zeid. Prest approached Zeid "What do you want from me?" Prest demanded. Zeid turned around slowly and looked at his 'apprentice' in the eyes. "I have come to claim what is mine; your soul." Prest looked shocked and tried to run but he could not, for the first time in his life he felt absolute sheer terror. He could move nothing; he could not even find the strength to look away from the approaching death knight. Zeid crept closer and closer and closer until Prest could feel his breath upon his face. Then Zeid backed away. The little Tarutaru Prest had brought with him entered and was confused as to what was happening; at his side was a little blue fox-squirrel like animal with a glowing red ruby in the center of its forehead. "Uh did I interrupt something?" The little Tarutaru inquired looking from the immobilized Prest to the ghastly death knight. Prest tried to tell the Tarutaru to run away but the words could not form from his dry lips. Sogre realized that something was wrong when he saw that the death knight did not have a shadow, soon he put two and two together and realized that this Hume warrior that had trampled him with a chocobo was in danger. Sogre commanded his pet to attack the death knight but to no avail the creature could not touch the shadow. Zeid laughed at Sogre's feeble attempt "You can not hurt me silly fool! I am a shadow not living nor dead. I can not be hurt." Sogre realized what he must do; he took out a medallion from under his robe and clutched it in his hand tightly while praying. The jewl began to glow white, brighter and brighter until Zeid was blinded by the light. "Carbuncle! Charge Searing Light!" Sogre commanded as he pointed the medallion at Carbuncle. The creature now known as Carbuncle leapt into the air and the ruby on his head glowed, he pointed his head towards the sun then back down at Zeid. A pillar of pure light engulfed Zeid and Prest, Sogre could hear Zeid's screams of pain. After the light faded Sogre sent Carbuncle away and approached Prest. "Are you ok?" he inquired. Prest nodded, Zeid's control over his body was gone. "Where are you headed little mage?" Prest asked. "Oh I'm walking back to Jeuno." Sogre replied. "I am as well, as payment for saving me from that spook I'll give you a lift on my chocobo and I promise I won't run you over again." Prest said smiling. Sogre agreed and the two walked out of Beaudeaux and got on the chocobo and set off towards Jeuno.
Upon reaching Jeuno they parted ways but they did agree to keep in touch with one another after all as a weak mage Sogre could always use a guardian and Prest needed light so he wouldn't fall prey to the darkness once more.
Final Fantasy XI: Sogre's Story 2003-2006
--Argos of Bahamut
