Dawn of Revelation
There was a good deal of traffic before the great White Gates, even in this early hour. The sun was simply a pale orange glint on the eastern horizon yet Robin Magus was wide-awake...
And furious!
The fop in his garish red robes led herself and the three fools she was forced to travel with around to one side of the road. They tromped through the short bushy grasses passed a multitude of heavily laden ox-pulled carts and wagons of more configurations than Robin cared to identify. The city-dwellers' avarice was insatiable it seemed, and they wasted no time getting a jump on their bartering and haggling.
Her previous trip to this blasted city was still fresh in her mind, and if Robin had to put up with what she had last time, she'd probably be burning more of the damned place this time.
She walked behind the others, wringing her charred black rod in both hands. Her rage was threatening to overtake her and she had to fight to keep it down. She mentally dared anyone to say the wrong thing to her – just one thing! – and she'd go berserk. She had to remember the balance more than ever this morning. There had been so many delays. She should have undergone her own journey – she should have! She'd likely be done by now while these blasted dimwits still wrestled with their inane inadequacies.
Yet she had been charged by the elders to undertake this quest. She was powerful, the strongest of her tribe, yet they were the Voices of the Spirits, the Eyes of the Ancestors. Their wisdom was beyond question, and they had charged her with this duty. It was a matter of honor that she succeed in her quest, and so despite the incessant stupidity she was forced to endure, she would endure it. The elders had spoken.
So she gripped her rod and gritted her teeth, her eyes blazing even more than the runes of fire that wreathed her. She glimpsed fools by their carts and wagons eyeing her strangely, many with fear or awe or both.
She quivered; the fools should mind their own blasted business, she was none of theirs.
A long low growl crept up from the back of her throat unconsciously, and the fool thief gave her a wary glance over his shoulder. She glared at him vehemently, but he only scowled and turned back, grumbling to himself and fingering the hilts of his fool knives.
Robin ignored the monkey and growled again, adjusting her wide-brimmed hat. There was breeze out that ruffled her enshrouding black robes, but Robin rarely felt the cold. She barely ever had. Being blessed by the Crystal of Fire granted her a number of advantages. It seemed it was the same with the others. Gantz had already proved his immunity to her arcane lightning and she wondered if the idiot white mage might be immune to her freezing ice. Robin possessed no earth-based magic yet, but she wondered if Valor might have some way around it, even if she did. Such thoughts consumed her, but she knew she could make allowances. If it came to it, she had enough different elements that if one failed, she would simply use another. There was still the possibility that she would have to destroy or at least hinder the others, in order to fulfill her own quest. Her success was paramount, and she would let no one get in the way of it!
She realized she was continuously growling and made herself stop. The five of them were coming upon the great White Gates, spread wide to allow entrance into the city for multiple lanes of traffic. Already, guards in their gold-enameled armor were coming up to intercept them, and Robin smiled wickedly. Her runes changed from blazing orange to frosty blue.
She was forestalled, however, by the red-cloaked fop, who met the guards with his seemingly signature frippery. The dandy flourished his cloak and bid the men a good day, even as they crossed spears before him. "Good men of the Guard, I have a matter of great urgency I must set before you..."
Robin and the three other Chosen stopped walking to stand four abreast before the guards while the dandy did the talking. Robin knew her sigils of frost glowed with frozen brilliance that tended to intimidate idiots. Whatever saw her in and out of this city swiftly, she was willing to use to the hilt.
The fool fop continued in a suddenly resonant voice, pitched loud enough to draw the attention of all about, not just the guards confronting them. "Loyal men of the Guard, I beseech you to believe me, that my companions here, young though they are, are vital to the stability of the land. If you would please allow us into the city, and perhaps provide an escort to facilitate our passage, we must, by all means, speak with the king as soon as it can be arranged."
It wasn't long until the guard captain came up behind his subordinates and scowled. Robin noticed quickly that that scowl was directed squarely at her, and then she remembered this dolt from before with the line of soldiers that had confronted her in the city square.
Valor traced the man's gaze and sighed. "You aren't going to help this at all, are you Robin Magus?"
The monkey and lesser mage both frowned at her.
Robin glared at them all. "I'll let you fools grovel before these slugs if you like, but that is not the nature of fire."
"Of course not," Sana added irately. "Your nature is to make it impossible for us to do our duty."
Robin growled. "Your duty be damned, lesser mage! Mine is paramount, and it does not involve convincing idiots to see sense they will never see."
The white mage looked away, speaking offhandedly. "The same could be said for some others present."
Robin laughed harshly, but cared not what Sana thought. She was losing patience and control, however, gripping her rod near to snapping it. The sigils about her were those of fire again, and they blazed balefully. "The fop had best convince them soon."
Gantz looked at her askance. "Is it your diet or something? What makes you so bloody angry all the time?"
Robin huffed in dismissal. "As if your monkey brain could fathom the passions that drive me."
The thief just shook his head irately, but Valor glared at her. "Honestly, Robin Magus, you are in need of a sound thrashing. Someone needs to lay you low before your arrogance gets us all killed." Sana immediately shot her hand up enthusiastically, as if to advance her claim to beat Robin before the others got to.
Robin glared back at the idiot white mage, then at Valor. She said nothing, just dared him with her withering gaze to deliver his 'thrashing'. The bloody tin can would see quickly where that would get him if he dared!
Regardless, the fop was still haggling with the Guard, but the captain shook his head, pointing at Robin. "That wild witch is wanted for evading arrest and arson!" He paused then, squinting at Gantz. "And his face I've seen on wanted posters throughout the city. Those are both fugitives, Sir Herring, and by the Light of the Crystals, I will see them to justice!"
Robin had had enough, but Valor forestalled her. His face was taut with anger and impatience to a degree she had never witnessed, and, for some reason, she allowed him to take the lead.
The warrior strode up several steps to put himself before the guard captain. Though his armor was plain over a faded red suit of worn leather, he nonetheless provided an air of command. He hesitated a second, looking over the guards, then out over the people, and Robin wondered what he was planning. She realized it quickly, however, and actually approved. It was bold, and something she had not thought of.
"We are the four Light Warriors," Valor Loftlan declared, and a resounding gasp elicited from everyone within earshot. "The time of the Final Cataclysm is approaching. As prophesied in legend, we have come to seek our destiny and fulfill our duty! That is why we must pass immediately."
The captain looked stunned, but only for a second. It was a bold claim after all. He tsked however, and shook his head. "A goat can say he's a lion, young man, but that does not make it so."
Valor turned his blue gaze upon the man. "I am Valor Loftlan, son of Vinter and Aria Loftlan. I swear to you that I am Chosen of the Earth Crystal and that the End Times are approaching. I must see my cousin, the King, as soon as possible!"
The man gaped before his declaration but held his ground. "By the King's own order, he is not to be disturbed until his deliberations are concluded."
Robin shook her shrouded head. The bloody twit still didn't believe them.
"We must get in with all haste!" Valor shouted. Sana suddenly looked concerned.
The captain shook his gold-helmed head. "Not without more convincing proof than your word, boy, impressive though it may be."
Proof...
The debate stopped dead, as did all murmuring from the onlookers. The guards looked about, confused. The strange disembodied voice had not been loud, but had apparently touched all minds present.
It had certainly touched Robin's. To her, that single word had been uttered by a bass guttural voice, a voice stern and disapproving, a male voice, but from no mortal man.
There was complete silence everywhere. Even the oxen pulling the carts and wagons had gone as rigid as if in anticipation.
Proof. Very well, mortals, look to the east...
As if all present shared a single brain, everyone looked east.
The dawn sun flared brightly above the eclipsing mountains and bathed the entire morning world in a radiant glow. Everyone looked away, unable to countenance the sun's direct power, but behind them, another light flared...
Or more appropriately, four other lights flared.
Robin watched as the Orb of Fire suddenly floated a foot above her head, shining with wicked red-orange power. Sana's sapphire blue orb floated above her as well, as did Valor's solid yellow and Gantz's misty green. Their separate glows lasted only a moment before they brightened and then merged, creating a singular glow of purest white that hummed with a quiet presence.
Proof, mortals...
With that, the lights winked out, and the orbs returned to their containers by magical means.
Valor turned his rock-steady gaze upon the guard captain again. "Will you aid us now, captain?"
The man could not stop gaping but finally managed a nod.
IIIIIIIIII
If only you were still with me, Jayne, my love, this never would have happened.
King Highland sat in the massive gilded throne upon the white marble dais at the head of the throne room, the great chamber empty but for him and his final friend. All the opulence of the throne room had no meaning or import; there to impress and utterly unimpressive. It was merely a garish blur before him.
Strangely enough, it felt as if he had recently had a veil ripped from his eyes. After so long, his thoughts had become clear again after having been otherwise for nearly two years. It could not be coincidence that this disillusionment had taken place so close to the disappearance of his four great advisors. Not a week gone it had happened, and the four had truly vanished, for the King had sent out his guard to scour the city for them as well as mounted messengers to their grand estates just beyond the bounds of the White City. Each steward had little to tell. Their masters had left to attend some business and had not returned since.
It had done no good to curse the four for their treachery, and whatever means they had held him spellbound in their grasp the last two years. He remembered it all too perfectly now; making decisions he never would have made otherwise, coming to conclusions without deliberation, utterly convinced with just a few compelling words from unctuous tongues. He had brought injustice after injustice to the Kingdom, dividing his court into two separate factions, and girding for war with the Dragon Empire to the north, which was simple madness.
Yes, he had been responsible for it all. And then there was Sarah, his precious child, the only remainder of his dead queen, trying to reason with him when he had been immune to reason. He had chided her, belittled her, and disregarded her. He remembered the agonizingly sad looks she had given him that he had affected not to notice, too busy plotting to care. She had not given up, however, inciting his anger more than once so that he had sent her away under guard. He had even considered exiling her to the old West Tower, or marrying her off to some unknown suitor just to have her away from him.
His head now lowered in shame, the golden crown upon his brow immeasurably heavy, as it had never seemed before. Regret befuddled him and sadness stabbed at his heart. His precious daughter was in the clutches of the black-clad monster now, the dark demon that had destroyed Highland's entire army single-handedly.
Indeed, nothing mattered now except her. Not his duty, not his honor, nothing except getting Sarah back alive and well. The dark phantom that had appeared in court a few days back had brought tidings of doom and the King believed all of them utterly, and yet the loss of his daughter had rendered him powerless in a way he had never before known. He had locked himself away then, forsaking all else. He was beyond redemption and neither the gods, nor the Crystal's themselves could save him.
The Chancellor Breen stood at the foot of the dais, silent all this time when the King decided to speak in a barely audible whisper. "The Crystals themselves have forsaken me, Breen. I have lost my wife, my honor, and now even Sarah, the last piece of me. My soul is empty and I am nothing now. I am broken."
The old councilor looked up at his friend with a sad smile. "Whatever is broken can be mended, my King. These were your words to me not so long ago."
The king shook his head. "Foolish optimism, Breen. You and Vinter were both right. You never trusted them, the four. I know now that you did not, but you did not speak against any of my foolish proclamations either. Why, Breen?"
The old man hardened his gaze for a second. "I took an oath to support you in all that you do or have done, my King. I can assist you in affairs of state and ceremony, advise you in same, but cannot go against your decrees. I was never to be your conscience, Sire. It is not my place and never was. That is my honor. Besides, you ruled for so long with wisdom and strength. I knew this madness would not last."
The king heard his words and slumped forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. Loss pulsed inside his brain, worse than any migraine. Hurt continued to gnaw at his heart. "There may be a revolt, my old friend. The disenfranchised may come to pull me down, I have blundered too greatly. They have every right to do so. I know their council debates even now. I do not even know who it is that they've in mind to replace me. I have not followed the currents these last two years. I have lost touch, blinded myself to everything that can swallow a ruler, no matter his strength." He stared with great sadness at the empty throne to his left.
Breen was about to reply when there was a suddenly insistent knock from the double doors across the chamber.
"Whoever it is," the king said flatly. "Send them away."
Breen went to do so, but the huge doors burst open alarmingly and in strode a young armored warrior, several guards trying in vain to restrain him. He flung them away with surprising strength, anger and outrage contorting his face, his broad jaw set, brows knit, brown hair shot through with streaks of silver.
His sapphire eyes blazed with what the old man could only call righteous fury.
The king stood quickly. "Who dares?"
"I dare, cousin!" Valor Loftlan shouted, stopping to plant himself before the dais. Breen quickly noticed the three entering the throne room in young Valor's wake. One was a white mage, a young pretty girl with long blond hair and worried hazel eyes. Beside her stood another boy, his arms folded, his swift features set in irritation. He wore dark leather armor and looked a bandit. Beside that one was what seemed to be a shrouded witch with angry glowing eyes, encompassed by a burning nimbus of eldritch light.
The King was suddenly enraged. "You've no right to barge in here, boy! I will not tolerate such arrogance! Guards, seize this intruder by any means."
Gold-armored guards came running, and Breen backed away as Valor simply turned, his sword unsheathed in one fluid motion. The first guard charged with a roar and was disarmed. Valor then pivoted bringing his kite shield about to bash the man in the chest knocking him hard to his back. Two came from each flank and Valor drove into one. Swords clashed twice before the young warrior brought his bastard sword around, the flat of the blade striking the man hard across the back of the helmet with a ring. With an elbow strike, Valor knocked the dazed guard into the other flanker, stunting his charge. The boy then sheathed his sword in an eye-blink and struck the hindered guard square in the breastplate with an open-handed strike. The man was knocked back as if by an avalanche, hitting the ground and sliding clear to a stop, unconscious.
Four more guards came up and Valor danced in among them. Without a word, his blade flashed, breaking through two longswords with one slash, leaving their wielders stunned. He then stomped the floor hard with one foot, as if to anchor himself in the earth, and caught another guard's blade in his hand in mid-slash. Then, with a furious roar, the boy lifted the armored man above his head and flung him into the final guard, both of them going down in a clattering tangle.
No guards left, Valor gave a roar and thrust his sword inches into the marble floor with a thundering crack. The whole room seemed to vibrate with his rage. Incensed, he dropped his shield and climbed the stairs until he was face to face with his cousin, the King in utter shock. He grabbed the man with both gauntleted fists and lifted him a foot off the floor. Rumbling like an earthquake: "Have you abdicated the throne, cousin?"
The King didn't answer, too stunned, too lost, to do so.
Valor gave him a shake. "Answer, me, cousin! Have you stepped down as liege of this country? That is what I see here, a coward hiding from justice! Do you know what you've done to this land, to your people? Answer me, if you still have the spine to do so! Do you have any idea what is about to descend on us all?"
Breen watched the white mage come to the foot of the dais. A strange sadness filled her hazel eyes. "Please, Valor, this is not the way. He is in pain."
The boy stopped and looked back at her. He closed his eyes with a weighted sigh and then lowered the king to his feet. With a small shove, he turned away, and the man slumped into his throne. The boy Valor descended the dais and went down to stand with the white mage. He retrieved his sword and shield before going back to stand with the other young ones, four abreast before the throne.
Breen looked up at the King, but the man was utterly lost. The Chancellor then looked to Valor Loftlan. "My boy, it has been a good while. You have grown to look much like your father."
The boy sighed wearily again. "Thank you, Breen. It has been a long time since we last talked." He suddenly paused, looking around the throne room. The guard captain stood behind the four of them, his arms out to keep his cluster of men at bay, while he seemed to wait. True Herring, the Red Bard; sat on the floor just inside the double doors, looking to be writing furiously on a piece of parchment. Oddly enough, it seemed he was using the long white plumed quill from his red hat to do the writing, a small bottle of ink set before him.
Valor looked back up at the king. "We four are the Light Warriors, cousin. We are here to begin our quest to save this world."
Breen saw a palpable change overtake his friend. At hearing his young cousin's declaration, the king's eyes suddenly shown with old strength. "Then the times are truly upon us."
"They are," Valor confirmed.
"But you have risen, as foretold in the oldest prophecies, to stop the Final Cataclysm from shattering the Crystals of Light. Yes, I can feel the truth in your words."
Truth...
All sound seemed to disappear from the chamber. Everyone looked about instinctively, but the speaker was not visible. The speaker was within.
To Valor, that word had been a mother's gentle admonition.
To Sana-Lynn, it had been a serene priestess's intonation.
To Gantz, it had been a majestic ruler's proclamation.
To Robin, it had been a stern warrior's declaration.
Bound by these things we are, truths brought forth by fate's twisted skeins...
Strength in these four we've seen, power to undo any evil. Courage they have, to stand before the Abyssal Ones that even now are breaking free at their ruler's behest.
Chaos comes to the mortal world once more, and we cannot fight it alone. The Crystals can speak no more; we are all that is left of the Essence...
The Warriors of Dawn must go forth before all is lost...
Before all is darkness...
In four flashes, the crystalline orbs floated two feet above the heads of their respective bearers; yellow, red, blue, green. The colors became brighter and brighter until they merged into a single pristine white light from which no shadow could hide.
Then all at once, they were gone.
Everyone blinked.
Breen fell to his knees. "...Those voices... those were they, the God Spirits... the Eidolons."
Gantz quickly shook his head. "I only heard one voice. It sounded like an emperor or something. Someone really powerful and commanding."
Breen looked to him. "You are which Chosen?"
The boy shrugged. "Wind, I guess."
"Bahamut, Lord of the Skies, Eidolon of Wind, Essence of the very air itself. Legends say he is the living will of Crystal of the Wind, as all four Eidolons are the will of their respective Crystals."
Sana looked to the kneeling Chancellor with wonder. "I have never read of any such legend in the halls of the White Temple. Where did you learn this, Chancellor?"
He regained his feet, but his gray eyes shone with fervor. "And which blessed Chosen are you, child?"
The girl blushed at the pure devotion in his voice. "I am the Chosen of Water, Chancellor."
"Leviathan, Lady of the Sea, Eidolon of Water, Essence of the Pure Depths."
Breen was almost shaking, though his voice was steady. His gaze fell upon Valor. "You must be Earth, young Valor. Your great strength from before, it is your blessing."
Valor suddenly recalled the fight. "I had not even noticed it then."
Breen nodded. "Yang, Gaia, Athena; the three-faced goddess of Light, Earth, and Wisdom respectively."
Valor nodded slowly in intrigue.
Breen turned to look at the shrouded witch, but she forestalled him. "Do not patronize me, old fool. The Guardian Spirit of my tribe has always been the Lord of Fire, Ifrit, and it is his blessing I bear."
The old Chancellor simply nodded.
"Hope..." King Highland intoned and sudden determination forced out all the despair in his brown gaze. He sat straight, his voice strong and clear. "Hear me, Light Warriors! The Dark Knight Garland has taken my daughter, Sarah, to his lair in the Temple of Fiends to the north. He is the greatest swordsman in the Kingdom and much more than that now, a dark monster able to crush armies single-handedly. I charge you, Chosen of the Crystals, to defeat this fiend, and bring me back my precious daughter."
Valor nodded, a triumphant smile on his face. "I have missed you, cousin."
The king looked down with a nod. "I have returned, Valor, thanks to you. I swear it now that darkness will not claim this land whilst I lead it. By the Light of the Crystals, Highland will become whole again."
He turned to Breen and the old Chancellor bowed. "My oldest friend, let it be known that there will be a great feast tonight in Castle Cornelia, and that all the court is to attend."
The King then focused on his guard captain. "Lord-Captain Marcus, these four are the Chosen Warriors of the Dawn. You will grant them an honor guard to the royal apartments and provide men for their doors. No harm will befall them, do you understand?"
The captain and his soldiers bowed quickly with fists to chest. "It will be as you say, Majesty."
The King nodded. "Very well. This night we will feast, and tomorrow, you the Chosen, will leave for the Temple of Fiends... and your destiny."
He looked out over all assembled. "The Dark War is coming and we must all be ready. Let the people know that it is upon us, but tell them also that the four Light Warriors walk amongst us once again."