Ch. 3: Discovery
The castles of Elibe were filled with chaos rather than order, and frantic struggles to comprehend rather than the cool, calm demeanors they each had made for themselves. Kings wronged in the past had risen from their graves, including the former king of Bern. This rose some suspicion among the court as to why he, of all people, had returned from his burial grounds… surely he had not murdered anyone, they had said, so why would he have returned? As far as they were concerned, only the murderers had returned from the grave, or at least those who had fought in what the few who had seen it had called the Second Scouring.
Rath and Lyn had been grief-stricken at the loss of the Kutolah tribe, and could not bear to hear the loss of her fellow Sacaean, Guy. However… both he and his nemesis, Matthew, had been revived; a marvel that had been confirmed by the now-younger myrmidon's yells of disdain and malady as Matthew's laugh of glee and mischief could be heard in a world that he had sworn would never hear a word from his lips again.
Hector had the most problems, in this regard. After being mortally wounded at the hands of the Dragon Generals, he had fallen into the peaceful rapture of death in the young lord's arms before being burned in a ceremonial pyre. And thus, he had had a problem that not many of the others had faced, being buried beneath the earth. Now, he, who had been one of the largest men in his army, had been stuck, attempting to pull himself from a quickly 'shrinking' vase (when in fact he had been indeed reforming to his former corporeal state)… eventually, feeling the walls of the brass container threatening to shatter his newly-formed ribs again, he had used his strength to push the walls outwards, thus showering the area around him with ash as the vase walls gave way. Of course, this had left the rather embarrassed lord sitting naked and young again in the middle of enemy territory… not the best situation he could have imagined, but he had waited until nightfall to grab some clothes from a peddler and leave the country through the border of Lycia and Bern. It had been roughly a week afterward when he returned home, thoroughly angry and confused. Unlike the others, he knew of the current time, since he had died but recently… and he knew his wounds were fatal.
Especially frantic were the castles of Pherae and Ostia, whose entire system of politics had been thrown into a state of chaos in a matter of seconds. The Marquess Pherae had been resurrected, even though only those in the room knew him to be dead… and a vicious dragon had erupted from the earth of the Pheraean courtyard. Those who witnessed the marvelous beast pull its way out of the dirt could not explain what they were seeing, and Fa had giggled at the rather traumatic sight. The naive little mamkute had believed the ice dragon to have been playing a game of hide-and-seek, and had only now finished counting. Though the others were quite confused at Fa's sudden departure into a closet to hide, Sue had shaken her head once she comprehended the girl's reactions, and reason for it.
Reaching her head up into the sky, the dragon shrieked, bellowing for a moment in what sounded like pure lamentation before, lowering her head to the earth while remaining in her semi-standing position, a shuddering gasp emerged from her form. The ruby eyes of the serpent seemed to be widening as it did so, its muscular chest heaving with its breath as it labored to get accustomed to the atmosphere of Elibe. A soft sapphire glow emerged from its upper torso and, suddenly, the dragon began to shrink. The formerly monolithic terror had within a few seconds become a thin young woman with teal hair, gasping for air while holding a strange stone in her hands and clutching it against her chest.
Realizing that there was much to discuss, but also knowing that enemies could hide in wait at any moment on the new continent, Eliwood called the nation's citizens to his castle… specifically, those who had participated alongside him and Hector to being peace to Elibe, all those years ago. Though time could not turn back, it appeared that they all had been given a second chance. As for why, however… they could not tell.
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Riding the waves of the sapphire sea that was still churning slightly from the meeting of the lands, the Davros once again set sail; only this time, the target was not the twice-visited Dread Isle, but the new continent that had descended upon Elibe. Fargus had been all too happy to take them aboard… even though the Port of Badon had mixed feelings about his return from the grave, they nonetheless endorsed the voyage in the Marquess of Pherae's stead. Fargus was a bit confused as to his returned strength and Eliwood's returned youth and health, but welcomed them aboard once more with open arms. Because the eastern side of the new land was littered with jagged rocks, they had sailed around the continent, looking for an adequate place to land on the western coast.
Lilina had chatted happily with her mother and father before boarding, whilst the others of the later generation filed a bit more cautiously on board. Parents of said generation coaxed them on board with little problems, but that left a more crowded ship for the pirates to deal with. Dart seemed to have no problem with this, however, and simply threw rascals that were too noisy below deck. Not surprisingly, first Clarine, then Serra were tossed there first. Even though Clarine was Pent and Louise's unruly child, it appeared that her Aunt Serra had had a much greater effect on her behavior than either of her well-mannered parents.
Lucius stood by the stern of the ship, looking out into the distance while a hand gingerly touched a spot just below his rib. Gasping at the contact and the slight pain that it had initiated, he had turned in time to see the ruby eyes of his long-time friend filled with concern that would have otherwise been invisible to all else who beheld his deceptively cold gaze. Raven, knowing what must have happened to him in his absence, had silently motioned to his sister, who had likewise approached to lay her hand on his painful wound. Though it should have gone away upon his revival, the spear that had felled the bishop had still been in his body when he awoke… thus, the spear had jutted out from his body, and had yet to heal. Now, though, with the soothing energy of the valkyrie's hands coursing through the ailment, he could feel torn muscles and injured nerves mend, and could feel the pain subside as a wound he should never have taken closed. The memory had caused him far more pain than its physical counterpart, however, and this continued to ail him long after the kind-hearted healer and her brother left his side. He was a bit aggrieved when his young charges did not remember him, but made no moves towards trying to reassure them of his identity as the caretaker of the Araphen orphanage.
Just like him, Priscilla also was haunted by ghosts of her past… ghosts that mainly took the face of the one love she could never have, and dreams that reminded her of his departure. Over and over again she had experienced his leaving, and every night, old emotional wounds were torn open again and again; never once had they been allowed the chance to heal, and not one night had since then had she been graced with a peaceful night's sleep.
Meanwhile, across the vast deck, Roy had stood alone with his father and began to adjust to the sudden… events that had come to pass. While joyous, the young lord kept in mind that not all miracles lasted forever.
"Father, are you sure this is wise?" Roy had asked hesitantly, a bit unnerved to see both his father and his mother before him… let alone at the same age as him. It was odd to call this man his father, now that he appeared only two years older than him, at most. He could truly see the resemblance that others had claimed him to share, though, but that did not put his mind at ease. Grateful but confused, he had only recently returned from the council that most of the nations had called together, and friendly faces greeted them with renewed youth and vigor. However, several faces had been seen as gaunt, as if they had never wanted to return from the graves they had so peacefully lain in for so long. For the most part, the majority of them were ecstatic at regained youth… but those who were revived were met only with confusion.
Lyndis and Rath had an extremely hard time adjusting to life again. Though it was not as if they had forgotten their native tongues or knowledge, they had passed away a few years ago and had not heard the extent of Bern's treachery. Rath had at least known of the attack, as he had died in the assault that had ruthlessly felled Sacae beneath the iron fist of Zephiel… but Lyn could not bring herself to grasp that the child they had rescued in the past would rise in malevolent glory to strike down the prominent nations of the world. Not only that, but the amount of time that had passed made it hard for both mother and daughter to recognize one another… it was a dire emotional blow for both, not being able to distinguish their own kindred amidst the reunited army. Florina, having woken up in the Tomb of Royalty within Ostian grounds, had been so terrified of the corpses surrounding her that she had shrieked… which allowed the others to find her. No one who revived had any knowledge of their deaths, remembering only the dire events beforehand and assuming that they had survived through miraculous healings.
Sin had greeted Rath with a bow of his head, and the older man had cautiously returned the gesture before, silent as always, he pointed towards Sue… a test, more than anything, to make sure he was more interested in protecting the girl than making her his future bride. Upon seeing the slight but nonetheless evident hints of a blush that had crept up to the younger teenager's cheeks, the father of the Sacaen girl shook his head momentarily before patting the bow that he held vigil at his side. If he was to court his daughter, or so the tribe had dictated in the past, he must be able to defeat the bride-to-be's father in combat. Looking to see if her father was in the vicinity as he looked around - since Rath clearly did not look the proper age to be Sue's father - Sin shrugged, leaving it at that. If he saw her father, his nonchalance told the older man, he would challenge him to fight someday. Deciding to let him wallow in his ignorance, Rath shook his head once again before turning and walking away from the younger man, moving farther along deck towards the stern of the Davros.
All of this was communicated in absolute silence, leaving others but Lyn and Sue wondering what they were miming or mimicking when others' backs were turned… after all, no one but the two could really tell whether they were talking to one another, mocking others, or putting on an act, just for the sake of confusing other members on board. Roy, having noticed this going on for a while now, decided not to pry as he heard his father's far less labored voice respond to him with the same gentleness he had remembered from his earliest days.
"Yes, Roy… I'm certain. We can trust them… they've taken our army to Dread Isle twice before." He smiled a bit as he saw Roy's eyes widen from the mere mention of the supposedly forbidden land, and would not have believed it if Dart had not nodded a bit in response. The said pirate was now crossing the deck, and heartily shook hands with Eliwood once again with a cordial expression on his face. He was happy for several reasons… one, he had never planned to see him again, and two, he was surprised at how close the continents were to one another. One could swim, if they could brave the hostile currents that ran between them. The third reason was that his daughter had just returned from Ilia, having been knighted just recently.
"Ahoy, landlubber… never thought I'd be seein' you again. And same with you, lass." Dart smirked, craning his neck a bit to see a nervously smiling Ninian hiding behind her husband. She was still in her dancer's attire, ready as always to perform the dance that had rejuvenated her friends for so long… even if she hadn't performed the sacred ritual in several years, it was as fresh in her mind as if it had last happened only yesterday. Something seemed amiss, though, even though the reason for it never quite registered until that feeling returned to her… her abilities returned with a vengeance, and so did she once again feel what had saved their lives countless times in the past.
A sudden cold pang struck the ice dragon's heart, and the death-like chill that had quickly coursed through her spine told her something that she should have foreseen beforehand… and she noted that the little mamkute, Fa, had noticed this as well. The small dragon girl - who had formerly been frolicking about on deck and marveling at the strange, salty breeze and the 'big water' that surrounded them as far as they eye could see - had paused suddenly; her glistening emerald eyes turned feral as she whipped around, snarling as fiercely as she could towards the sky. Though the smaller dragon did not have the same true power as Ninian, she could nonetheless hear them from far off, and could see them if she tried hard enough. Others were convinced that they shared the same power, when in truth, the small one simply had more acute senses than her senior. She had heard the wings of pegasi beating in the distance, and had heard them drawing their lances. Sure enough, she saw their snowy forms flying gracefully towards their ship.
"Fa sees danger! Fa hears danger!" The small girl yelled, letting her soft, white wings with blue tips emerge from her back as she continued pointing frantically to the eastern side of the ship. Pegasus knights poured out of a large tower, yelling something as they approached the ship. Realizing there would be no time to communicate unless aerial units would dispatch a message, Heath quickly leapt onto his wyvern before taking to the skies. The said winged knights scattered at his approach, fluttering like butterflies away from him and stopping only when he lowered his lance; even then, because of Grado's heavy use of the winged serpents, the Frelian knights were extremely wary of this newcomer.
Patting Hyperion's coarse neck gently, Heath could hear his partner's nervous growls as he looked to and fro between the snowy pegasi that flew before him. The green-scaled wyvern had seen many such knights in the past, and all had fallen beneath its owner's lance… but still, it did not like how they darted around so quickly, flitting through the air like flies as he himself preferred a more straightforward approach, choosing to cut pegasi off from possible escape routes before seeing their mangled corpses obey gravity's absolute law. Now, however, he was forced to fly in an almost stationary fashion before them, making sure that the said horses did not swing around to strike his back. The wyvern was as paranoid as his comrade, ready to strike out at any and all units who approached him without his knowledge.
It was said that wyverns and pegasi never truly took masters, and such was the case in this pair. While Hyperion and Heath could be considered friends of sorts, they were more concerned about having another pair of eyes watching their back than having a partner to talk to or socialize with on the army's spare time. As such, the paranoid duo was synchronized in an odd fashion, with each watching out for the other while knowing the other watched their back, as well. Pegasi, on the other hand, were simply paranoid that their riders would have men touch them. The winged mounts never liked men, and that was true here, as well. The pegasi fidgeted beneath their riders, clearly not wanting to be in the company of a 'dirty' human male. Realizing that the only way to end the tension was to speak to them himself, Heath cleared his throat and began to speak.
"Peace! We mean you no harm. We are inhabitants of the continent across the sea. May we see the land that has now become one with ours?" Heath asked, keeping his tone as professional as possible even as several of the pegasus knights scowled at his wyvern. He noted with a little bit of worry that none of his own pegasus knights had arrived to back him up, and wondered if he was fighting a lost cause. An air of suspicion surrounded the opposing knights as one of them began to speak.
"We have no need of foreigners here!" One of them shouted, only to be silenced by a superior officer.
"Silence! Allow me to speak with him." Urging her pegasus forward with a nudge of her legs, one of their number approached Heath and Hyperion, making sure to remain just outside of lance distance, should he choose to attack. The woman appeared to be in her early twenties, and yet carried a regal air about her that suggested that she had led this force for a few years, at least. Shaking her head at the knight who fell back, her azure eyes communicated her silent apology as she returned her gaze towards Heath. Her teal hair flew about in the slight but varied air currents that rushed around them, with only the ponytail and circlet that lay in her hair keeping the strands from interfering with her vision. She bore on her breastplate the insignia of Frelia, and the crimson wings that had been placed around it bore her rank as commanding officer of one part of the Frelian knights.
"I am Khris; officer of this brigade, the third wing of the Pegasus Knights of Frelia. If you would allow us several weeks and the name of your country, we may bring this up to our King in the council…" The woman began, but a voice that perked up behind Heath interrupted sharply.
"A few weeks? I'm not getting paid weekly! Say, listen, I know what you're saying, but we're not waiting that long. I'm not, at least." Heath groaned at Farina's statements, knowing they were most definitely not going to approve of her small tirade, and especially not the fact that she had all but pushed through them with her pegasus, Murphy, to continue on towards shore. And, as he expected, they retaliated with a few words of their own; however, he didn't expect them to raise their lances quite so quickly in retaliation.
"Such insolence! To defy his Highness means death! Third wing, attack!" With that, the group of enraged pegasus knights seemed to explode into feathers, with its swift warriors splitting apart and flying off in various directions, while letting their paths overlap enough so that guessing their numbers was difficult if they had not done so beforehand. Using this to confuse their opponents while masking their path of attack, this plan also backfired, rendering them also oblivious to the incoming attack until it was almost upon them.
The paths of the scattered pegasi seemed to be multiplied in frenzy tenfold when two Dragon Masters swept through, swinging their lances to intimidate more than harm. Brother and sister swept through, a perfectly smooth and synchronized dance of wings and scales as they swept through the cloud of feathers, with each growling slightly in frustration as some of the pegasi eluded their attempts at herding them into a group. Roughly a quarter of the group, however, was caught between Zeiss and Miledy's lances; and thus, they were forced to remain stationary or lose their lives to the serpent-riding warriors. As much as Miledy would have loved to see Gale's face at her aerial victory against the pegasi, she knew now was not the time to be thinking about a lover she had all but lost in the year past. She had slain her love with her own lance, and that memory alone would haunt her for the rest of her days. The blue-haired dragon master that had been cold to all but her was gone now, naught but a whisper in the wind reminding her of the precious man that she had lost.
"Look what you've done, Farina!" The woman's sister chastised, shaking her head as she flew towards the brigade that now moved swiftly towards them. The aqua blue-haired woman remembered the formation, similar to one used in Ilia's training areas when she had just been knighted. Letting the ever-rare smile cross her face, Fiora turned to the right side of the pegasi; looking slightly towards her shy, orchid-haired sister, who likewise veered to the left flank of the group, she smiled, knowing that at least one of her sisters had remembered. However, she noted with a groan that Farina herself had chosen to spar one-on-one with the commander, leaving the triangle they had been trying to form incomplete. Luckily, a spare pegasus knight had joined their ranks, with Thany rushing in to plug the essential position in her mother's stead. The newly instated pegasus knight almost glowed with glee as she held several others at lancetip, prepared to shout the words of the Ilian knights that would signal the attack, should any try to escape.
"Hold, archers! Do not strike!" Yuno, though technically not nearly as skilled as the others, nevertheless yelled towards the arrow-carrying units as she sailed through the air, wishing that her husband, the paladin Zealot, had been on some sort of winged mount to support her in the skies. Not letting this deter her, the violet-haired pegasus knight her mount carry her into the skies and within range to help her sister, Tate, keep a couple more pegasi under their lances. It was almost pathetic, she noted, how they stayed so servile; it was as if they were simply waiting for an opportunity of some sort to liberate them from their holds, or perhaps already accepting their fate. And yet, looking around, Yuno found no such reinforcements of any sort arriving by sky or by sea…. And she saw no reason for them to meaninglessly surrender. Nevertheless, she argued not with their choice of action, and stood vigil while guiding them towards the ship.
Once the remainder of the knights had been gathered into submission, Zeiss noticed the rather aggrieved look that one of the pegasus knights had given to no one but the sky; moving a bit closer to his sister, he motioned to the knight's vacant expression and somber demeanor before asking her what ailed her.
"We have already lost," She said simply, hanging her sapphire-haired head downwards while letting tears fall onto her pegasus's mane. "Our beloved Frelia had already fallen a week back, and now we have lost the rest of our lands to foreign soldiers. May the saints forgive us… we have lost." Miledy, who had heard her short but self-explanatory tale, felt her heart become filled with sympathy…. She had heard the girl's tone of voice once before, and from her princess, nonetheless; only now, it concerned this young woman's land, rather than her lady's brother's actions against it. Looking up and towards Farina, Miledy could not help but smirk a bit as the pegasus knight's older sister quickly barked an order which made her immediately cease combat with the commander.
"Farina! Pay to cease!" Though quite the unusual order to the ears of most soldiers, those of Ilia easily recognized that as the command that could save their lives… and increase their wages… in the midst of combat. Farina had always been rather attuned to this command, though she would also press to fight a few more foes before leaving (since she was usually paid either by the fallen foe or by elapsed time). This time, however, she was left in a lance-lock with the commander, and was content to keep it that way as she shouted back towards her sibling.
"What for? She attacked me first!" Farina whined, pushing a bit more against the lance. Tate, breaking away from Yuno, quickly moved in between the two combating pegasi and clutched their weapons in her hands before pulling them apart. Though not especially strong by any means, she was nonetheless fueled enough by determination to at least hold them at bay. It was only when Heath replaced her to clutch the lances tight in his hands that she backed off, allowing her to both catch her breath and look around for additional foes before speaking.
"We have heard of Frelia's defeat! We have not come to conquer you, noble knights of the skies." The thin girl could not help but see the distrust in Khris's eyes, and gulped a bit as her gaze turned sharper than daggers. It was almost like insulting her father's cooking at home, it had gotten so bad… after all, pirates couldn't cook anything better than rough gruel… Shaking off that thought, she saw that Fiora had taken Zeiss's place at the pegasi, thus allowing the former commander of Bern's wyverns to speak. However, Khris beat him to the punch, almost spitting her words towards the foreigners.
"So the last land had said. They came on the backs of monstrous wyverns, darkening the sky beneath their wings before our cavaliers were decimated by a beast from times past. And yet, that did not seem enough for them… no, we fought the reptilian behemoth for days, and now we are the last of our country's military. We believed the ancient beasts to have been all but extinct, by now. Our crown prince and princess were not present, luckily, but the king remains barred in his own country. All you see before you…. A scant two dozen, at best… this is all that Frelia now has to offer. Destroy us all, if you wish it, but leave our king at peace. He has suffered enough." Refusing to let any more tears fall from her eyes, she allowed her sorrow to nonetheless burrow its way into her heart, letting the seed that was tragedy take root before, unwillingly, allowing its tendrils to spread. She could feel nothing but sorrow, she knew, when she thought of her king… the king she had failed, along with her country. She looked up when she felt a weight on her shoulder, and saw Zeiss give her an almost invisible smile; an attempt to comfort her, to rid her of her guilt.
"We do not wish to harm your lands, nor do we desire to conquer new territory. We travel only to assure that we…" He let the sentence drag off, realizing what he had been about to say. He had just been about to mention Bern, and how they wished for the empire not to acquire new lands, but… apparently, they were already too late.
"Assure that you what?" She shrieked, twisting her shoulder away from his hand. "You, too, ride a serpentine beast! You, too, arrive from the country of destruction! What have we done, to have cursed ourselves to this fate!" The woman yelled, now letting her sorrow express itself as the tears fell freely down her eyes. Like a cascade of diamonds, the transparent, sparkling streams made their way down her cheeks, traversing the valley that was her flesh before…
The entire brigade was shocked into silence as a hand flew across their leader's face, throwing her head violently to the side while leaving a large red mark that began to swell as soon as the hand left. Once again, the bold but reckless Farina had made her mark on these pegasus knights, and both times had she pocked their honor with her insolence. Now rubbing the back of her palm slightly at the force of the backhand she had given to the girl, she noted that the shocked expression had not left her face, and she had yet to crane her head back to its normal, upright position.
"Grow a spine, will ya? Yeesh, and to think that we thought you were honorable pegasus knights. Just keep fightin' until ya got nothin' left in ya, see?" Apparently her already brash manner had been increased twofold by being around Dart for two decades, and her manner of speaking had been changed a bit, as well. Thany hung her head a bit in shame at her mother's actions; knowing that coherent thought during these situations was foreign to her mother's short-tempered ways, she decided to let the question of whether or not she was making a complete fool of herself drop. She wondered how she, being so light-hearted, came to be so much different than Farina or Dart… she saw her mother scowl again before barking one last order.
"Now pull yourself together and tell me what the hell is going on here."
The resounding sounds of her sister's sighs of exasperation were all that were heard before the Frelian knight began to speak.
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Deep within the Empire of Grado, within the noble estate of Grado Castle, a strange aura had made its home within the palace walls. Though one might have attributed it to Grado's newfound climate beneath the Elibean sky, several within the maze of corridors and multitude of halls knew the true origin of the eccentric and dark atmosphere. Following the almost endless honeycomb of doors and dungeons that lay strewn about behind the throne room that beheld the king on his throne, one, provided they knew the way, could find themselves in a strange enclosure, sealed from the outside world by what could only be described as a barrier of light and dark energy, with each element working in symbiosis with the other. By keeping one another balanced and intertwining within each other, the two elements had woven together to create a shield that would serve two purposes regarding trespassers; to warn, as the light does to its owners, and to harm, as the darkness did to its foes.
A small man, hunched over with bags hanging under his eyes smiled in an almost fiendish manner as his gaze followed the man before him. Though the man himself was haggard, a man of great age and supposed wisdom, it was not he who was the origin of the aura that had impregnated the very stones that built the Castle Grado, but the younger, thinner man who stood before him. When a sudden cloud of darkness eclipsed Riev's view of his lord, he made not a move to improve his vision; if it was his lord's wish to remain invisible and inaudible, then who was he to object? He was a subject to his liege, and would sooner bow before Rausten's king again than to disobey the might of his lord.
It was not the man himself that was subject to a one-man conversation, but rather two presences in one mind…. The owner of the mind, held servile by the dark tendrils of another. Even as Riev stood vigil by his lord, within the young man's head was a battle constantly raging between the controller and the slave whose mind and body was his new home of flesh. A sinister glow seemed to lace the force's words, which were never spoken; rather, they were thought, and thought all the more loudly for the message to pound painfully into the weaker man's soul and mind. The voice was laced with distaste and disappointment, but even more so was the taunting undertone that would have provoked any other man into a state of anger… however, a weak mind such as this sat feebly by, taking the abuse while only voicing his anger through his thoughts, rather than actual actions.
Perhaps that would have been expecting too much, after all, to have thought the frail prince of Grado to have been able to break the shackles of servitude that had enslaved his feeble mind. No one but the Saint Latona had ever broken free of the enmity's control once it had grasped hold of them, for the creature was violent and possessive, clawing its way into a mind and forcing down a deep root that would anchor the spirit into the man's thoughts and emotions. From there, it was a simple hat trick for the vicious spirit to then seize control over the frail cocoon of flesh that now enraptured it in the first physical body it had felt in centuries.
This malevolent spirit was known by the mortals as none other than the Demon King.
…You failed, Lyon. But it was to be expected, wasn't it? It appears that your desire to read the spellbook yourself was not to follow the incantations… foolish Prince. Interfering with the Planet's fate has done nothing but cause pain to your pitiful kind, the mortal race of men. Do you not see that? And I had thought you were to become, 'a kind leader, who thought of nothing but the people'… and yet, you decimate their planet. A wonderful choice you have made, Prince. You have done your father proud. A sinister, leering voice rang through the young man's mind, a baritone thunderclap that seemed to rattle his mind from the inside out. From the sheer volume of the voice that had left his mind's eye reeling from the force, the crown prince of Grado was firmly convinced that Riev must have heard it, even on the outside. The emotions that rallied behind it - spite, mockery, bitterness, and anger – served only to increase the severity of the voice, matching its volume with all its intensity.
However, the excommunicated bishop showed no signs of having heard anything unusual, nor did he reveal any implication of him having seen anything unusual. Though he would normally have cringed – even though the voice was only in his mind – Lyon found that he could not even do this simple reflex. Sighing, he would have hung his shoulders, had the Demon King allowed it.
What good would it have done to resist what you wanted me to do, even if it required me pouring my soul into something that I did not believe in? Had I not agreed to even go through with the ritual, you would have forced my body into submission, anyway. The teenager thought bitterly, which was rewarded once more by a tremendous roar of laughter that echoed in all its intensity through his mind. Lyon resisted the urge to hiss an almost inaudible swear from the pain it caused him, even though no officials or gossiping maids were around to hear him speak them; for who could wander into his mind and crawl back out as they pleased? He was far too meek to even consider the small hope that the Demon King might one day relinquish his hold on his body, for he was also too rational to believe that this shell of flesh, let alone the soul that no longer owned it, would survive by the time the Demon King saw fit to leave.
Ah, so you have learned at last. It took my last host far too long to realize that… though defiance had made the devouring of his soul that much sweeter. Oddly enough, this was more of a thought drenched in nostalgia than one stained with mockery; however, this quickly changed to a sharp, snappish tone as he changed gears on the lavender-haired prince. We move to the new lands. It appears your blunder has done us some good.
What? Whatever for? Is this land not enough to appease you? Lyon pleaded within his mind for a moment, wondering just how he was going to convince the former lord of demons to simply sit idly by as the citizens of Elibe had the chance to gather and bear arms beneath Grado's nose. No, the king would never allow it… if Lyon could not govern his own soul, what could he do to convince his body's new owner to relinquish his possible hold on an entire continent, full of potential fodder for his hordes? Suddenly, he was suddenly very grateful for his knowledge of books, for a legend came to mind. Do you not require the shrine in Darkling Woods to revive your true corporeal form?
…Why not conquer both lands, human prince? Hm? Apparently, such narrow-minded thoughts are not restricted to the fools of the mortal realms, I see… I'd thought to see a bit more sense from you than that. Quite an arrogant little worm, you are. Hissing at the boy's ignorance, he allowed one of his fangs to scrape across the boy's spiritual form, lacing his body with pain as the young man threw his head back and cried out from pure agony. Chuckling as he opened his cruel maw to strike another excruciatingly painful blow, something made him pause. A soft, emerald glow had begun to warm the atmosphere slightly, with the sphere of light visible only to Lyon's eyes alone as the Demon King temporarily released his hold on the boy's soul. Choosing instead to control the body, he looked through eyes that were not his, and into the small sphere.
Hovering in an almost nonchalant fashion before them was a small glow, a face appeared within… a rather haggard looking man, with only one eye showing as the other lay covered beneath the large strips of cloth that composed his turban. His hard features were softened only slightly with age, but the Demon King could see within the fine lines that he had lived far beyond the normal expectations of the human life span; perhaps three, maybe four or five times as long, it seemed. His tan complexion belied his true age, and the demonic entity could almost smell the death of hundreds of men, so strong was the aura. Instantly intrigued, the demon set aside his pride and allowed himself to associate with yet another weak human being. Putting up the façade as the Prince of Grado, he decided that he should let the prince have time to play… and, as such, he allowed Lyon the rare opportunity to speak of his own accord.
"…Who are you?" Lyon asked hesitantly, relishing the feel of moving his own lips and eyes again as he stood there, watching the man's face contort from a respectful, solemn expression into a swift scowl. He seemed to be looking for something, or someone, but gave no clues as to who he was or why he had contacted the palace in the first place. Lyon wasn't even sure how he got past Riev and the Demon King's shield, and neither did the parasite that was housed within him.
"I am seeking… I was seeking a being with a vast amount of power; one unmatched by any but the dragons. I have looked, and have found him here. Who is he?" The man rasped, clearing his throat before speaking again. It appeared that, even though he had been through the countless trials of life, something new had come to ail him… though, with a strand of what could only be described as a silk thread of emerald energy that he weaved around his throat, whatever ailed him quickly disappeared. The quintessence gone, the Demon King once again wrestled control away from the prince, leaving the said member of royalty to moan and yell in pain as control was once again ripped from his senses. All he could feel now was pain… pain that only afflicted the areas he had used while still in control of his body. It made him fearful to do much of anything when he was allowed movement, and perhaps that was what the entity wanted.
"Perhaps you have sought me. I see your soul, drenched with the souls of mortal men… and that of the mamkutes and a few dragons. Tell me… who are you?" The man in the orb's eye widened before a smirk of victory took the shocked expression's place on his face. Curtly bowing before him, even though only the upper torso was visible, the man smiled as he said,
"My name is Nergal… and I wish to speak to you; the Demon King, Lord of Magvel. I have a proposal for you…"
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((Thanks for the reviews, guys. I wanted the meeting to be in this chapter, but I kinda got carried away. It should be in the next chapter… or, at least, I hope it'll be. ))