Those Who Fight Further
It did not feel as strange as she had thought it would, seeing them both again after so much time had passed, knowing that neither of them knew who she was now. In the years that had followed that moment when her hand had slipped free of his, when she had been absorbed into the tumulus, churning morass of fiction, Shindai Reika, as introduced herself now, the world had changed for those she had once known.
Raised since youth within the Sword of Logos, Reika had found herself unexpectedly inaugurated into those ancient mysteries before she could barely read, becoming, in time, the apprentice of the guardian of the Southern Base, Lilith, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders, a crown of flowers resting above her cold, cold eyes.
In time, and through determination and skill, she had become the star pupil of the Southern Base, her exemplary record known to all who fought in the armour of the ancient order of Kamen Riders.
They will not thank you for it, this devotion to your craft, Lilith had said, standing below the arch of the balcony, the weaving stairs that led up towards her study. Reika, petulant though it might have appeared, had not considered her mistress's warning to be worth a reply; she had no interest in proving herself to those she fought alongside, to Zweihänder, with his brutish lust for battle, to Claymore, with his singular focus, or even Bastard, with his simmering ferocity, or any of the other swordsmen within the Order. No, she had thought at the time, all she needed was to be better than those around her, to prove that she had a place in this world, to make them remember her, even if it was with resentment and dislike.
In the long, clammy nights as she had slipped in and out of dreaming at her mistress's side, Reika had pictured the moment in which she would again confront Kento and her brother once more, when she would show them how much she had learnt in the years in which Touma had let go of her, yet now that she had found herself again before them, it did not seem worth it.
Perhaps, Lilith had said, as she placed her hands upon the younger woman's head, running her fingers through her hair; perhaps, you will find it kinder not to tell them.
She looked away, feeling a raw sort of sorrow, a painful anger within her. Yet before it could show upon her face, again, she pushed it down, her hands tight upon the railings, the city, with all its lack of magic, spread out before her.
She had done what had been asked of her, had delivered the Tri Cerberus Wonder Ride Book to Kento, a feeling of uneasiness in her stomach that had proven unfounded as she had spoken with him, and now there was nothing left but to see how these swordsmen of the Northern Base compared to her colleagues, to see what strengths both Kento and Touma possessed, and to see if they were capable of overcoming the duplicitous wielder of the Sword of Darkness.
Badan's blade, Lilith had said, not looking up from the stereovision screen upon her table.
Reika had waited a moment before giving in, asking her impossibly ancient, impossibly beautiful mistress what she had meant.
Badan's blade, Lilith had said again, this time, lifting her head. The Sword of Darkness was once wielded by a man named Kurayami Taishi, following his defeat by Kamen Rider ZX. A dangerous tool, she had said; a blade that knows no limits, a blade that draws the life out of all that oppose it.
Reika had folded her arms across her chest, acting the spoilt child again before her mentor, displeased with the piecemeal way in which the older woman dispensed information.
Why would such a man as this Kurayami Taishi become a Kamen Rider? she had asked.
Lilith had bowed her head again so as to hide the smirk that quickly formed upon her lips.
You forget, dearest. Sometimes the most heroic of us start off as villains.
And sometimes, the most heroic of us become villains, Reika thought sadly.
Looking out as the sun set over that city without magic, Shindai Reika did not envy Kento and Touma what lay ahead for either of them.