Wheels of Fate, BoF II novelization.
Summary: Novelization of Breath of Fire II: Shimei no Ko (The Child for the Mission). Some events altered. Strong language will be in play.
The events related here, happen seven years before the main events of Breath of Fire 2. The typical prelude according to the game is way too much overused, so I wrote this to start and set a mood. Will tell the other, but as a dream or a reminiscence in later chapters.
The events of the prelude take place about seven years before the main events in the game.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; they belong to Capcom, as does the game. I own nothing, hear ye, lawyer.
Note: This is the rewritten version of the original prelude. Names of the Shamans are the ones that Ryusui uses in his version.
Prelude: Protectors of Hope.
The air in the night was cold, the bite of winter's frost within its touch. Five cloaked figures ran through the driving rain, moving as though a legion of demons were snapping at their heels. None of them spoke. They couldn't spare the breath it would take. All they could do was keep going and hope that their enemies wouldn't catch them.
One fell, tripping on the damp grass, and the group immediately stopped. Even at a glance, it was clear that exhaustion sapped her strength, and no wonder – for she was barely past her tenth summer. She is still a child. We ask too much of her, thought the eldest sorrowfully. She cannot keep up this pace, but what other options do we have? She is our hope, our bright flame. The little girl tried to stand, shifting her weight onto her ankle, but a muffled cry of pain escaped her lips as she collapsed again.
"Let me help," said the elder, moving closer. Her voice was warm and kind, and the girl relaxed into her sister's supporting arm. "Is it sprained?"
The other three watched for any sign of pursuit as her hands began to glow softly. The gentle white light was soothing, and as she moved the holy magic closer to the injury, she could sense bones clicking back into place. Minor scrapes sealed themselves, and the pain faded from the girl's body.
"Thank you, Saynie!" The child smiled, pulling back her hood back to reveal scarlet eyes. Embers seemed to glow in their depths, and the wind tugged at her hair as though it were stirring up so many dancing flames. The rain sizzled and evaporated as it hit her skin.
Saynie frowned slightly. "That's 'elder sister Saynie,' to you, young lady. Cover yourself with that cloak!" She tugged the hood back down again, and sighed. That stubborn look on her face again. "I know that your cloak is wet, but you'll exhaust yourself if you try to dry it now. And if you were to catch a cold or worse . . ." More than the cold was sending shivers down Saynie's spine. "This weather is not good for you, little sister. Sesso!"
One of the other figures glanced at her and came over to where they sat. "Yes?" she inquired, before catching sight of Saynie's expression. Her voice, quiet at the best of times, sank further until she could barely hear the younger girl speaking over the pouring rain. "You can feel it too, can't you?"
"I think – Sanamo!" They turned in shock to see Sanamo sprawled across the ground. Saynie scooped up the fallen girl, laying a trembling hand against her neck. Too cold . . . Her pulse was weak but steady. "Sanamo, be strong for us, just for a little while longer. Sesso, can you please carry her? Sanamo is too young to use her power properly, so I'm relying on you and your control of Water to protect her and keep her dry."
Sesso brushed sodden strands of cobalt hair from her face and nodded. "I will," she murmured, taking the unconscious Sanamo from Saynie. "And you? Don't tell me you're . . ."
Saynie's eyes glowed brightly in the dim light as she looked away from her sister, in the direction they had come from. "I will protect you from the Necromancer in the only way I can," she said finally. "Remember, even before our own lives, we must make sure that Sanamo arrives safely to the Druid of Jah. If we do not, then Sollo's effort to free us from Rhode Chapel would've been for nothing."
"I understand," Sesso sighed. "If that monster drains our energy for the awakening, then we're doomed. I just . . . don't want to lose anyone. Take care of yourself, Saynie." She knew it was hard, but how much harder must it be for Saynie, who might lose all of them? At least she still had Sanamo. Sesso bowed her head, and then swiftly fled. Her tears mingled with the rain on her cheeks, but not a drop touched Sanamo.
"Was it right to leave Saynie by herself?" asked one of the cloaked figures running alongside her.
"It was her wish," Sesso answered, "and she was right in any case. We each have our own tasks to complete. Spoona and I will take Sanamo to safety."
"I worry about her," said the figure. "She takes on too much. No one can handle everything by themselves." She sighed deeply. "But as you said, I have my own duties. The seal in the Gateway to The Abyss won't hold by itself for long, and I'm the only one who can seal it from the inside. Actually, will you two be fine by yourselves? I should be leaving."
"Don't worry about it, Synne, big sister of mine," said the last figure, in a tone that lay somewhere between cocky and sympathetic. "I'll summon a deep mist, so no one'll ever be able to follow us." She chuckled a little. "Even if the ones chasing us are undead, their puppeteers need to use their eyes ever now and then."
Synne smiled, pulling back her hood and exposing her face to the sky. "Thank you, both of you," she said as she stopped and let them continue without her. Synne pressed her palms together, noting vaguely that her dark skin meant that she could barely see her own hands. Blue-black hair crackled with power as her aura pushed outwards, momentarily leaving the world even darker than it had been.
"Mantle of Darkness, allow the Wings of Time to aid me in my mission!"
The darkness took shape and resolving itself into a pair of wings, feathered in black and invisible against the moonless night. The rain was no hindrance, for it could not affect the immaterial. They attached themselves to her back once the spell was completed and she flapped them, looking over her shoulder in satisfaction. Synne took off, flying north into the star-scattered sky.
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Spoona and Sesso kept running long after the shadowy figure of their sister had gone behind them. At one point, Sanamo woke up, but finding herself warm and in her elder sibling's arms, she quickly dozed off again.
"Sesso, give me a minute," Spoona said quietly. "I said to Synne that I'd summon the mists to cover your tracks, and I mean to do just that. This storm is Water and Darkness, but there's Air mixed in there somewhere too. I'll try and use that."
Sesso nodded. "Meet me at Yggdrasil, if you can." she replied. "If I'm not there, then ask him how to reach the Druid."
Unlike Synne, Spoona had no need to summon spirits to fly. Green light, a manifestation of her aura, pulsed around her as she slowly rose in the air until Sesso was only a moving dot against the ground. In the storm, the wind roared viciously, as though it cared nothing for their plight and only wished to cause havoc. Spoona knew better, though. Her very nature allowed her to be one with the gale and to command it. No mere squall could defeat her, but was that all this was?
Raw power surged through Spoona as she tried to communicate with the spirits of the wind controlling the rainstorm. Nothing happened, and she pushed harder, aura winds flaring and fading after seconds of life. And then she felt something connect, and the winds disappeared. The calling was complete.
Time seemed to change, simultaneously passing in a flash and lasting eternally. Her answer came in the form of a whirlwind, a vast pillar of air that stopped in front of her and spun slower and slower until it stopped. Inside was a gargoyle, draconic blue wings beating slightly to keep him aloft. His hair, storm-cloud grey, whipped back and forth across his curiously human face as his eyes opened.
"Spoona, Shaman of Wind, I suppose," he rumbled, the boom and crack of thunder deep within his voice.
"Indeed, Oh Spirit. Might I be allowed to know your name?"
He inclined his head slightly. "I am Zephyr, the Guardian of Storms. I watched as you fled a terrible enemy, and decided to lend you my assistance. For something even greater than the survival of the Fusion Clan is at stake – it is the life of our world."
"I see . . ." Spoona answered, not knowing whether to believe him or not. "And the price?"
He looked slightly hurt that she had automatically assumed his help wouldn't be free, but went on regardless. "It will be soon be time for me to pass on my duties to my heir, that the Tower of Heavens might always have a Keeper. I would ask you to be my wife, fair lady Spoona."
His words came as a shock, but she considered them carefully. The Tower of Heavens was indeed a great responsibility. It took vast amounts of magical energy and willpower to keep the weather of the world stable, and she had understood from the start that she risked never seeing her sisters again. But now she had to make a decision, one that might tear her apart in the long run . . . but that guaranteed the safety of Sesso and little Sanamo.
Sanamo. Sanamo was the key to all of this. The Dragon God himself had asked them to make sure Sanamo met up with the Druid. Saynie had possibly already sacrificed herself to protect them. Synne had flown away to seal herself into the abyss, to stop the demons from advancing further. Sollo slept beneath the land somewhere to the north, drained from using her power to break the sisters free of their prison. Sesso ran, crossing the land like a tidal wave in the hope that they could find a needle in a haystack. Now it was her turn.
And besides . . . there was something about Zephyr that caught her eye.
"I will honor your request, Lord Zephyr," she said with an impish smile before letting the cloak flutter to the ground far below, immediately seized by the fierce wind as soon as it left the bubble of calm that surrounded them
Zephyr caught his breath as, for the first time, he saw her fully. Jade and turquoise flashed from her headdress, designed to accent the natural shades of her hair while at the same time pulling it back from her face. Her dancer's garb stirred in the now-gentle breezes, twining green ribbon and green hair together and revealing tantalizing glimpses of soft skin. She looked up at him, and he felt like falling forever into those endless pools of emerald. Spoona laughed gently as she read the surprise in his own eyes, blue and innocent as a midsummer sky.
Spoona drifted closer and wrapped her arms around her husband-to-be. Even though she was considered a tall girl, if they had been on the ground, she would have had to stand on her tiptoes just to be barely able to kiss him; the top of her head barely reached his jaw. Suddenly, she decided to do exactly that, stretching upwards and planting a kiss on the dead center of his lips. Seconds later, she forced his mouth open and slid her tongue inside his mouth and started exploring him at her leisure, suprising him and not allowing him to think clearly for several instants.
She tastes of spearmint, Zephyr thought when he recovered. The kiss was deepened by both newfound lovers and followed through on its passionate course until they were left holding each other at the end, gasping for breath and laughing in delight.
"Until death do us part, husband of mine," Spoona whispered in his ear. "I hope that every time will be as . . . satisfying as this was."
"My lady Spoona, as passionate and untamed as a storm," he chuckled. "I will do better in the nuptial bed, so worry not. This was . . ."
He suddenly looked embarrassed, and she let out a laugh, melodious and filled with warmth.
"I'm your first?" she said, pleased. "Even with a body like that, you'd never been with a woman before?"
"My duties as a Keeper consumed me," he admitted, reddening further. "I had never considered female companionship until now."
"I thought only those of the St. Eva church were nuts about celibacy?" she inquired mockingly, before she burst out laughing again.
He joined her in her glee. "Perhaps I am only shy."
Spoona raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you don't need to worry on that regard. I'll make sure to fix it with time and lessons. Hopefully I will not betoo much of a taskmistress." She gave him a wink.
Zephyr quickly leaned in and kissed her, surprising her. Then he lifted her as though she weighed no more than a feather, until her eyes were level with his. "How was that, my lady teacher?" he asked with a smile.
"Ah! Very good! Maybe you're a better learner than I thought. At least, you're not completely hopeless, anyway." She smiled back at him, but her expression faltered as she remembered her sisters. They had been running for their lives, and here she was flirting! "The fog," she breathed. "Please, Zephyr, can you summon the fog and mist to cover our tracks?"
"Of course, mine lady. Allow me the honor of doing so." Zephyr raised a hand, his index finger pointing towards the heavens. He closed his eyes then opened them again, the pupils shining an eerie blue-green, and Spoona could immediately feel the raging wind of the storm slow and then stop altogether. The air grew heavy, laded with water, and sank, blanketing the land in a layer of cloud that would disperse after a few days.
Zephyr's eyes returned to their original shade and he picked her up lightly. "Let us fly back home. Everything is prepared for you, including a redecoration of our chambers should you desire it, my lady Spoona," he murmured to her, nibbling on her ear a little. She giggled; somehow, she had the feeling that she would not be bored for a very long time.
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Saynie stood alone, her back turned to the way her sisters had fled. Mist had formed behind her, covering everything in that direction and preventing sight beyond the end of her nose. The storm itself had stopped, forced by the will of some powerful entity. She could no longer feel her sisters' auras because they were so far away. I hope they're safe, she thought.
In the distance, getting rapidly closer, Saynie could hear the clanking of metal joints and the neighing of horses. Armored soldiers were marching closer, their aura cold and dead – corpses reanimated for a dark purpose. Some of the auras flickered warmly, but the number of undead far outweighed the living.
Saynie smirked a little. Two hundred soldiers just to capture a single woman? They must have heard of the rumors, or perhaps not if they were sending undead. Maybe the enemy just liked to show off. Saynie lifted a hand to the sky and shouted in a voice that could have made whole armies launch themselves into battle, not caring if they lived or died, only following the command.
"Kal Vas Lor!"
A sphere of holy light formed above her, turning the darkness of the night into midday's brightness. Now she could properly see the forces sent against her, and fully unleash her power because it would not risk her sisters' safety. Her aura, white as an angel's wings, began to form around, making small rocks and pebbles lift themselves into the air. Saynie could sense the troops better now; only the riders and their mounts were undead, resurrected by the unholy art of the Necromancer.
Saynie knew very well the power of the Necromancer. When they had been prisoners of the Church, they had endured being treated as heathens, worse than even the lowliest of the brainwashed zealots. Each of them was the embodiment of the world's elements: Fire, Wind, Water, Earth, Light and Darkness. And every day, she had felt the flickering lives of the Church's slaves go out and become the Necromancer's puppets, unable to prevent him from doing anything, or even ease their pain.
The riders visibly flinched as their rotting steeds shied away from the light. The soldiers stopped behind them, happy to let the undead be the first to take any possible attacks. "Lady, please surrender," said one. "St. Eva only wishes to protect you from harm."
She snorted. "Protect me? And how would you do so, kind sirs? My idea of protection is not like the one you have in mind. You tried to sacrifice us to your God, were even willing to rape and eviscerate a child. Is that your idea of a sanctum?" Saynie let her expression go blank, trying to keep her cool. She did not want to give in to anger, even though the Church deserved everything she wanted to do and more.
"I have no idea of what you speak, pagan," the same soldier snapped. "For the last time, surrender peacefully and we will be merciful."
"Your filthy excuse for a god, Evan, does not know the meaning of mercy. The only way I shall surrender to your ilk will be as a spirit!" Her aura flared with her rage, the undead soldiers shrinking back.
They heard another voice, belonging to an older man, raspy and used to giving orders. "Mounted cavalry of our God, fear not her powers. St. Eva's mercy is all-forgiving. Charge and bring back her head to be offered at the altar of Rhode Chapel."
The riders complied, lowering their lances and galloping towards her. She stood her ground, watching as they drew ever closer.
"Such impudence," she muttered when they were still some distance away. "Do you truly believe you can send undead against one such as I?" The light became blinding as Saynie began to chant an incantation.
"I call upon the power that lies within every living being. May the holy radiance of the sun, the moon and the stars aid me in this ordeal. Voice of Truth, come forth and show my foes the light that they dread to see, that will grant them eternal peace."
Her skin tingled as power coursed through her veins. Saynie's eyes glowed brightly as she lifted a hand, sending a beam of scorching white fire into the sky.
"Kyrie!"
An angel appeared from the east, silhouetted against the faint glow of the dawning sun. In one hand, she bore a set of gleaming scales, while the other held a sword of pure light. A bandage covered her eyes. She flew towards the riders and landed lightly, white flames erupting around the undead as soon as her feet touched the ground. Horse and human alike screamed in pain and anguish as the fire consumed them, leaving only ash. The angel bowed to Saynie before flapping her wings and ascending back into the heavens.
A single skull rolled towards Saynie, stopping as it hit her foot. With a ruthless expression, she brought her boot down upon it, crushing it until it became nothing more than blackened dust.
"Let this be a lesson to you," she called to the man who had addressed the soldiers earlier. "It is futile for you to send your ghastly minions against me. If you were to abandon your pursuit, I may consider leniency and let you walk away from this place unscathed."
"We have an obligation to fulfill. Infidels who denounce St. Eva must be cleansed and punished."
As he finished speaking, Saynie could feel demonic power emanating from behind the remaining soldiers. It made her shiver in pain as she heard that same abhorrent voice begin to chant.
"With the power our God has granted me, I summon you. Fallen warriors! Your duty is to vanquish this heathen. Do so and you will be granted a new chance at life by the almighty will of Evans, our God. Come forth, Living Dead!"
Thousands of rotting carcasses rose from the earth as he finished, weapons clutched between bony fingers. The living soldiers were in a trance-like state, their eyes as dead as those of their new comrades were.
So they have given themselves to the will of the Necromancer, Saynie thought. I can see no way to save them now. He will show himself, for surely he thinks that he holds the upper hand. And indeed, he might, for I do not have the power to destroy him without Uniting. Still, I give my life willingly if it will protect my sisters.
As she had expected, a wave of unholy magic shot across the battlefield, making her feel nauseous and shivery again. She straightened up and finally saw him, the one whose magic she had felt so many times. A skeletal dragon stood before the troops, putrid flesh hanging off its bones. It exuded the stench of death and decay with every rattling breath. The Necromancer.
"So the eldest of the Shamans graces us humble servants of the True God with her presence," the dragon said, in the same raspy voice of earlier. "You are truly a splendid woman, Saynie, Shaman of Light. It's a shame that I have to get rid of you . . . but I suppose that once I have your body, you won't be able to stop yourself from serving me as I desire." It chuckled evilly, enjoying the look of disgust that crossed her face.
"Necromancer!" Saynie said angrily. "No one dares mock me. I will rid this world of you and your corruption." She knew that she was considered attractive, but unlike Spoona, she had never used it as leverage. Her eyes, normally the same hazelnut brown as her hair, shone crimson with righteous fury.
"False Apostle, thee of detestable name and devoid of virtue! Return unto the abyss from which thou came. Thou shall receive respite from thy empty existence once thou art dust. Thus it shall be so, forevermore."
Saynie's armor shone as the power she summoned resonated with the sphere from earlier. "Legions of our God, kill that infidel! Before she finishes the spell!" shouted the Necromancer fearfully, erecting a magical barrier around himself. But it was too late. The sphere faded, leaving the sky pink with the light of dawn.
"Celestial Star!"
Hundreds of small comets fell from the sky, striking the soldiers with deadly aim. The undead instantly became little more than charcoal; screams and cries of agony rang out as the living were slaughtered, limbs and entrails scattered across the once-pristine field. The scent of blood was overwhelming as it stained the earth with the memory of destruction.
A final blazing meteorite fell, a vast pillar of rock that struck the necromantic dragon's shield and shattered it. For a few minutes, it seemed like the Necromancer wouldn't be affected, but at last it struck. White-hot flames spread from its skull, leaving blackened bones in its wake. Saynie knew that it wouldn't kill him – he held too much malice to be consumed by what little power she still had – but the damage was done; the Necromancer was far from invincible.
Saynie fell to her knees as she watched him revert to his human form, one she knew only too well. The priest, Father Manson of Rhode Chapel, was visibly weakened, terrible burns covering his skin and charred holes in his robe. Saynie knew that she shouldn't have used so much energy, but the sacrifice had been necessary and she felt no regrets. Her vision blurred as she toppled over, her mind slipping into unconsciousness.
"I'll skewer that woman! Then she'll be my own pleasure puppet!" the priest hissed as he took out a dark-bladed knife, but yelped in pain as someone touched his burnt shoulder.
"Peace, Father Manson." It was a voice that no one who called themselves a worshipper of St. Eva could disobey.
"High Priest Habalk!" said Manson, his eyes widening. "I most humbly apologize. Rage and hatred blinded me."
"Understandable, considering she nearly destroyed you." Habalk sneered at the hunched figure before him. "Are you really so weak that a single woman did so much damage? Don't bother answering. We will use her as food for our God, as she was supposed to be from the start. He needs more power for his revival; that serpent-bitch who appeared at the Gateway to the Abyss severely thwarted our plans."
Manson bowed his head. "I am aware of this, my lord."
"She may be not be a Dragon, but if we use her correctly, then it will greatly help our mission. Take her and connect her to the machine."
"As you wish, my lord."
"But first . . ." Habalk motioned to a blond-haired child beside him. The boy was dressed in the ceremonial tunic of an acolyte, with a necklace bearing the symbol of the church. A torch, to light a fire in the hearts of its believers. "Acolyte Braddock, prove to Father Manson what you have learned from me."
The acolyte knelt beside him, and started praying, glowing light spreading from his hands across Manson's wounds. After he had finished, the glow dissipated, leaving nothing behind but healed skin.
"Thank you, Ray," Manson said gratefully. "I feel much better now."
"It was nothing, Father. I only did what was asked of me."
"Ray, your skill is truly impressive. I have faith that you will become an excellent paladin for the Church." Habalk told his pupil, looking at him proudly.
Ray's face went red. "Really, I'm not worthy of such praise, High Priest."
"Do not be foolish, boy," said Habalk, turning away. "Feel happy that your power helped someone in need. Father Manson, take the woman to your Chapel. With that damned fog covering the area, we won't be able to even follow the others, let alone capture them."
"What about the bloodhounds from the Abyss?" Manson suggested.
"Useless," said Habalk dismissively. "Can't you sense the magic in it? Go now. I will help you with the preparations later."
Manson bent his head once more in obeisance. "It is the will of our God. I will do as you ask, High Priest."
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Father Manson warped the men of the Church and their new prisoner back to Rhode Chapel. She would pay for her insolence with years of serving their God, if she didn't die first. They needed to hurry - the Wheels of Fate had already begun to turn three years previously. All of those who knew the truth had felt a near infinite force radiating from near the Gateway and heard in their minds a mighty roar.
It was the roar of Kaiser, the Bane of their God, rightful ruler of their sworn enemies, the Dragon Clan.
None wished to admit it, but the legendary power of Kaiser struck chords of fear in their hearts. Lord Balbaroy had gone to test their suspicions, but no one had been able to contact him since that roar. If they didn't hurry, the possibility of their plan failing grew exponentially.
Their God had to arise soon, before the Kaiser fully awakened and discovered his true heritage.
End Prelude.
Author's Notes:
- Well, for the spells stole something again from Valkyrie Profile. Too many good spell chanting there, and makes this story more enjoyable, I think.
- As I said, the typical prelude of the game will be put in play later, but as reminiscence. Too many novelizations start with that, I wanted to do something different.
- The chant 'Kal Vas Lor' was taken from the series of game Ultima, made by Origin Systems, produced by Richard Garriott a.k.a. 'Lord British'. It means something like "Great Summoning of Light", and the spell is for summoning Daylight in the darkest night or dungeon.
- The Druid of Jah: For those who've played the game, she is the granny in the JahWoods. Will deepen and explain this when the time comes.
Special Thanks:
- Special thanks go to Ryusui, for making a GOOD re-translation of BoF2. I played his version and now I am taking elements of his work to make an enjoyable novelization. I hope you find it nice as a reader.
- Special thanks also to Lady Kestre Wynde, from for her beta-reading, and advice about English language.
- Review and give a piece of your mind, please.