Well, it's about four or so months late, but I finally got it done. Funny, huh? Life has gotten the best of me as of late. But, after taking a somewhat long break, I'm back. In whatever color.

Chapter 8: Tides of Fate

This was not a position the Slayer liked to be in.

He had woken up about three and a half kilometers from where he fell asleep. The ditch was dark, few bits of sun hitting his mostly naked body. Naked? He realized. They- the Arigoki, by the smell- had stolen his armor. With his legs over his face, the Slayer kicked open the dirt cover, revealing his eight foot tall frame. Dirt erupted like a volcano as he rose out of the ditch, groaning in the afternoon sun.

The Arigoki sitting at the nearby tent soiled the Slayer's armor (which he was wearing).

The Mirasho Mountain Range was in no way small. The highest mountain (Delaras, standing at a mind-boggling four-hundred miles high.) stuck out like a tower of red rock on the landscape, demanding respect. During some hours of the day, the sun would be blocked out by the red giant. On this side of the mountain, it resulted in a much longer night.

Which, in hindsight, was probably why the vampire

(That thing is a she yes she is a she and I will kill her all the same)

had hidden here. Of course, she was not safe from the Reaver.

(Hide they cannot nobody can hide)

Had the bitch been a tad more clever, maybe the Reaver wouldn't have tracked it this far. The stars had been merciful these past weeks. She had chased the vampire nearly over the entire continent- not that she had had any other place to run. Now they were in the small patch of Garaniv were the Cataclysm had first hit- when the… the thing literally ripped the ground apart and summoned the dead. Here they were, just over the site of the first major event that nearly destroyed the planet.

They were facing the vile Catacombs of Serrux, or the Overlord, or the Reaper, or the Graveking… the names went on. Serrux, in the Eld Tongue, meant conqueror, or was an adjective meaning ruthless and dominant- all of which Serrux had been. But he had been sealed here.

For being an undead herself, the Reaver still felt a chill looking upon the mouth of that cavern- which sucked in all light in this blizzard. The Reaver's armor clinked as she approached the cave the vampire had fled into

(Hide she cannot she will not hide she will die)

, her hood hardly holding up against the blizzard that raged around her. She felt no cold, but, after all, she was not a fan of the snow. Nor had she been when she was alive.

(Forget the old life the new life is death thine job is death we deal only death)

The cave was dark- incredibly so. The blizzard seemed muted when she stepped inside- not a protection spell nor a muffler- for she heard her sword's metal ring (which sounded akin to a deep musical note being held) and her armor.

"You have his soul." She called out to the cavern, detecting a magical flare, which was essentially something trying to reach out to her but being quickly suppressed. She was answered by a hiss.

"He knew not what he did, Erasa. I took it as a price for what he had done." Erasa's theoretical heart had skipped a beat. She had known that Marcus frequented brothels, but not vampire-infested brothels.

"Let me guess. My husband raped you like a drunk?" Erasa spat.

(Kill we shall kill there shall be blood shed tonight kill we shall kill)

She could hear the surprised blink in the vampire's voice. "Yes."

"Then he did something good. Your soul shall be my prize, bitch." Erasa growled, delving into the Undeath. The massive, disturbing conscious responded to her plea by cutting the darkness away- giving her a clear path.

"We can be friends, Erasa. Two undead, trying to get by in the world. Come, we're both women now, aren't we?" Erasa marched forward, coming across the vampire at the end of the Bloodstone tunnels. The vampire was nearly a foot and a half taller than Erasa, with the torso of a woman. However, the vampire was no longer a woman- she had revealed her true self. Her head was that of a black-scaled serpent, hissing at her with such force that spit hit Erasa on her face. The eyes of the serpent were about the size of a fingernail, bright orange against black. The vampire's arms, from her shoulders, became sick black spikes dripping with a veritable toxin. Blood the color of the stone had been stained into it. Instead of a woman's legs, there were great crow's feet. On her back, orange wings with closely-knitted spikes hooked her to the wall.

"You made that mistake when you took his soul." Erasa cocked her head, speaking softly. The vampire hissed again.

"Child, do you not listen?" The vampire's large figure dropped in front of her. "He was simply a male. There are plenty of prey to pick." The vampire put a claw lovingly to Erasa's cheek. That was when Erasa finally broke, shoving the claw away.

"Simply a male? Plenty of prey? Mother, I loved him!" Few tears streamed down Erasa's cheek. "And you say it like it is nothing!" Erasa's mother's face darkened.

"You know what he did. Why he had to pay for it. Nobody ever gets away without payment."

(Kill her we shall kill her my precious kill take your blade and kill her I am here I will prevent her I am here)

The Undeath was shockingly trying to make her feel better. Then her mother growled, and time grew slow for Erasa.

Her mother leaped into the air, a giant snake-thing, arms crossed in a deadly X. The Undeath forcibly controlled her body, unsheathing her black-gold sword and twirling it with a finger. Her mother let out a cry of a Feral- an Undead that has forgotten their soul- as Erasa's hand gripped the blade and stuck it out like a spear for her mother to land on. The womanly flesh of her torso ripped apart in a bloody mess, flesh covering the other edge of Erasa's sword. Her mother's head lurched forward, trying with the last insane breaths it had to kill Erasa. Then the Undeath commanded a stance from her, and the blade expunged a putrid purple energy- one that lit the cavern in an eerie glow as Erasa's mother was Reaped- her body and soul had been converted into a form the Undeath could process. When the process ended, Erasa collapsed in the black ashes of her mother.

Her husband-Arturo-had been a ditz. He would come home drunk some nights, a soldier from the barracks, and she would tuck him into bed. But that was one of the reasons she loved him- sometimes, he was so… innocent that Erasa felt more like a mother than a wife.

Which reminded her- where was his soul?

"Diagnostic, Doctor?" Xul asked Mrathil as the Hidden examined the wound. In the takeover of Hyrule, Xul had been poisoned- something that he did not favor. It burnt at random intervals. The Antithesis hated nothing more than chaos in his day-to-day conquering. Mrathil's face was unreadable behind his mother's mask.

"It seems to be relatively similar in chemical structure to your little pet's (Bane, sitting at Xul's side, growled at Mrathil) venom. It could be the exact same. How did you create his poison?" Mrathil asked. Xul could feel the quizzical eyebrow behind the mask.

"The Insumnios. A natural venom from their bowels. I had an abundance after the battle of Seros Vol- their capital and main home. It reinforced Bane's kiddies." Xul examined the wound himself, petting Bane. The Kersala moved his head towards his master.

"Well, no species can eat venom, which means we probably need a digestive fluid. But you killed the last Insumnios." Mrathil concluded. Xul shook his head, cursing himself.

"One escaped. Damn the Archons, I knew I should have killed her!" Xul roared, sending the Prince and the Abomination staggering backwards as Xul's towering form sent a shockwave of frustration.

"Calm down," Mrathil shouted as the shock wave disappeared and the mini-quake stopped. "I'm sure we can track her, somehow."

"Or maybe there's another way." Azzonoth returned from the outside world. It was raining hard, creating mud and lightning like they were going out of style. The quartet had hollowed the cave more, and it became a complex of sorts. After the main entry was a large open room, followed by two sleeping quarters (One for Mrathil and Azzonoth, the size of a normal living room, and one for Bane and Xul- the size of a house due to Xul's laughably large size). He carried two large deer over one shoulder and a boar over another. Tossing a deer to Bane, who eagerly caught it, Azzonoth laid the food on the floor.

"How so?" Mrathil asked.

"Think of Bane's infectee," Azzonoth gestured to the Kersala-who was already gouging the deer. "By now, the poison should've spread to the stomach- meaning not only will he begin truly feeling it, but he cannot digest it- meaning that instead of choking him, in all likeliness, it will mingle with his digestive fluid." Azzonoth smirked.

"A half-breed," Xul looked upwards, thinking for a long moment, before smiling. "This will make killing him all the more an accomplishment."

"He used to be your Purgatory, no?" Mrathil asked. Xul turned sharply to look at him. "The Queen imprisoned you there- in his shadow. You broke out a few times, no?" Mrathil raised a hand to a nonexistent chin. Xul nodded.

"I used to only be able to move when he moved. Kill when he killed. But now that I've broken free, I swear, by whatever gods truly exist, I'll kill him."

After refitting his armor, the Slayer hefted his five and a half foot long greatsword from the Arigoki's body. Blood and leather sprayed the ground as an artery popped in the rotting bandit. The Slayer wet his right fingers with the blood of the Arigoki and drew this symbol in the ground:

{ -\ /|\ /-}

{ -\ | | / -}

It was simple, really. In the Eld Speech, this was the symbol for "Demons this way walk." Or, to put it in modern terms: "If you come this way, an example is provided." The Slayer was done with taking the Arigoki. The next time he saw an encampment, he decided, he would obliterate it. As he strapped on the last bits of plate, he was aware of a duo of figures moving on his rear. They did not seem hostile, by the slow speed of their movement, but they were wary.

Then again, who wouldn't be wary of an eight foot tall warrior outfitting himself with a bloody greatsword? But after a moment, they approached him. The Slayer did not heft his large chunk of metal, merely turned around fast enough to make a tree branch snap. He saw two figures standing there, petrified.

One was a woman. She wore dark black armor with a slab of glass-ish material over her face. Only orange eyes were visible. A sword hung at her hip. The man next to her was graying, wearing crimson leather armor with pouches on belts over his body. He had two swords- mayhap three- and at least one dagger. His sharp eyes were unnatural- grey pupils and literally oozing raw mana (The Slayer had learned to detect mana in its various forms from a young age, in order to be proficient in the countering of beasts that utilized different arcane arts. For instance, the mana dripping from this man was Barren mana- it could not create, only absorb or destroy. Barren mana was mostly used in specialized spells of destruction. Whether they create a mediocre fireball that could still blast a man apart or a gale of fire able to strip the stone of a wall, Barren mana was entirely fire-centric.

Which explained his crimson armor.

"Names." The Slayer demanded, peering at both of the figures and giving a small mental assessment. Should they turn hostile, he decided he'd cleave the mage in half first. He was also the first to speak up.

"I am Turaan Osiook of the Graylands, Cindermage and summoner." The woman looked to him with confusion, and when Turaan nodded, she spoke her name.

"Captain Maera Fiesthey of the Insumnios Royal Military." The Slayer nearly gasped. An Insumnios? They were, in short, dark elves: A legendary sight to see one out of a cave. The Slayer stuck out his hand (which was nearly three feet long). He treasured every soft spoken word of the Insumnios. To hear of one's existence outside a cave was one thing, to see and hear one with your own eyes was another.

"Slayer Avnos Kelon, knight of the Hunt." The Slayer bowed. Both Maera and Turaan were surprised- this was not a barbarian, but a knight. Trained to kill DEMONS. Turaan looked quizzical for a moment.

"If you are truly a knight, then are you not heading to the Epicalas?" The Cindermage gestured toward the city revolving around a large black tower in the distance. An entire city literally was built around the giant stone monument. It was the headquarters for all the major operations this side of the planet. Anyone who had any sort of influence had been to the Epicalas. Avnos followed his gaze then nodded. 'We are all travelers here- how about we help one another and journey to the Epicalas together?" Turaan asked. Maera nodded quickly, smiling beneath her helmet. Avnos simply started walking.

In the rubble of Seros Vol, many- including the Allmother- had fallen. Bodies of both sides covered the floor like dust. The castle crumbled behind the corpses. However, one amongst these dead was not fully, clinically dead.

A black hand reached out from a pile of corpses nearly thirty feet high. A burst of willpower sent the corpses flying like a hurricane as a completely black figure arose from the ground.

Savos Fiesthey, or the Shade, had brought himself back to life.

This was what it must feel like to die, Link thought.

He could feel nothing. Taste, sight, smell- all senses and abilities were deactivated save for his ability to think. He knew he was dead- he felt it in his heart. It had stopped beating.

Was death truly an inescapable, cold void? Was there no after-

Link's thoughts were cut off as a visual faded in- A large cave, with a masked man looking at him. It was stupidly dark, but he could see like it was broad daylight. He was speechless. The purple heart-shaped mask seemed… familiar.

"You and he are connected, somehow," The mask spoke. "It's likely that it was because he was your Purgatory."

"Are you saying he's inside my head?" The voice from the Massacre of Hyrule growled. Link shook violently. That voice chilled him to the core. "Now?" The masked man nodded.

"Try contacting him."

"If you say so…" The beast was wary, but the vision faded. A sense of awareness and nakedness washed over Link. A deep blue light bathed him.

"Ah, there you are," the beast growled. "Human, I come for thee. Prepare yourself accordingly. I want a fight, not one overpowering the other. Be prepared to die." Link gulped.

"Tell me something!" In a burst, Link regained his voice, his courage, his… humanity. "Who-what-are you?" The presence seemed amused, before shouting.

"I am Xul! Antithesis of the Archons, Lord of the Hollowed! You and I have come to blows before. Now, I am my own. Prepare yourself!" Xul then cut the connection and Link woke up-

In a hospital bed.

"I have something I need to attend to." Mrathil said, grabbing his robes. Xul cocked his head.

"What?" He asked. Mrathil smiled.

"A contact. I need to… ah, inform them of something." With that, Mrathil crushed a Traveler's Orb and disappeared in a blue flash. Xul summoned Bane (who appeared at his side in white smoke, grumbling about being woken early).

"Follow Mrathil." Xul commanded, and Bane reluctantly nodded, crushing the Traveler's Orb Xul tossed to him.

Skylark was not pleased.

Snowpeak was a cold, cold place. Her skins barely covered her Lizalfos form. Two hand axes hung at her hips, blowing in the merciless wind. She pulled the coat tighter around her, pacing the small clearing. Then the world blinded her.

Standing there in a massive, eight-foot tall frame, was her employer.

He stood up, robes and armor flowing around him, purple heart-shaped mask glaring at the world around. He looked around for a moment until he gazed at the Warrior.

"Ah, Skylark. You came." Mrathil smiled beneath his mask. Skylark curtsied slightly.

"Yes, m'lord. I await your next target." Skylark kept her head down not out of respect but out of comfort- the mask unnerved her. She could hear the amusement in the Hidden's voice.

"Your next target is a Hylian. His name is Link Son-of-None. He's in Garaniv, across the seas. A boat is waiting for you and your lover in the north." Mrathil then unsheathed a sword. Skylark snapped her head upwards fast enough to crack.

It was a beauty. A fine ash-colored pommel bound in red leather. The hilt of the blade curved like a U, ending in crimson flowers. The blade was soot grey, shining red in the light. Mrathil saw the lust plain in the Warrior's eyes, and then sheathed it. The change was surprisingly fast. But her eyes lit up again when Mrathil tossed the sheath to her. She caught it with two hands, gazing at the cloth sheath the color of a field.

"Your payment. For your last contract." Mrathil smiled at the youth. How strangely pretty a lizard could be at times. She looked up at Mrathil and nodded, smiling.

"It shall be as you say, m'lord." Skylark curtsied again. Mrathil nodded and disappeared as swiftly as he appeared. Skylark danced for a moment, swinging the sheath around and whooping like a madwoman.

In the base of Delaras, something horrible was brewing.

Xul walked through the hollowed caverns, boots not clanking on the metal. It was dark, but electric lights were strung overhead, so being in the base of a mountain was not all that bad.

Considering what he had come for.

Xul walked to the end of the hallway, which was a silo-shaped area a hundred feet high. The only object in the room was a warrior in highly advanced armor kneeling on the ground, one leg flat, grasping a sword in the ground. His armor was some manner of golden fiber plate that ran the length of his body. The armor was generic for the time period of its creation, but the helmet was the more interesting part. The helmet was shaped like a disfigured stone, an orange faceplate barring Xul from seeing the warrior's features. He seemed… bland. But Xul knew better, he had seen Divine Machines before.

"Activate." Xul commanded. The warrior began to rise, movements becoming fluid. He pulled out his sword, metal sealing the slot like a living being would stitch it's wounds. It stood at ten feet tall, and spotted Xul immediately.

"PASSWORD." The machine demanded, keeping his sword in his hand.

"Centurion- Black seven alpha frank." Xul responded, his own sword in the ground. The Centurion processed this, and then nodded.

"GREETINGS, MASTER. HOW MAY THIS UNIT ASSIST?" The Centurion put the sword on its back, an invisible sheath, before stretching out a hand. Xul shook it eagerly.

"Simply follow me, my Centurion." Xul beckoned.

Mrathil was excited, dancing a small bit as he entered the cave.

"Oh, Xul… I've got some important news…" Mrathil was uncharacteristically light-hearted.

Then the thing leaped out at him.

Reflexes lightning-fast as usual, Mrathil had his sword out to block the one nearly the size of him. It clanked on his sword loudly, before the weight lifted and the darkness slammed down on his miniature guard again, nearly shattering it.

"Xul!" In the darkness, the figure that held the sword two handed it and struck at Mrathil's blade again. "What is this thing?!"

"Cancel action!" Xul's voice roared. The blade that was hammering Mrathil stopped, and disappeared altogether. The Hidden breathed a sigh of relief, hands on his knees. Bane walked around him. I'm getting old, Mrathil realized. Xul walked… er, cut himself out of the darkness and approached Mrathil. "Our new toy. Say hello to the Centurion." The Centurion's golden armor shone as it reached out its hand to shake Mrathil's.

"So, first, there's an abomination of nature ("Hey!" Bane growled. "I have a name!), and now a giant… whatever this thing is."

"Robot." Xul clarified. Mrathil's eyes went wide. He had heard that term before.

Robot was another word for Destroyer.

Maera was excited for the first time in a long time.

Not only had she been blessed with a savior, Turaan, but now? She was practically giddy.

Three feet in front of the duo an eight-foot tall plated warrior carrying a greatsword the size of her led them towards civilization. He had had a rough voice, like rocks breaking. Seeing him not swing his greatsword at them and instead protecting them gave her an even greater sense of security. She already felt safe with Turaan and his ability to summon Adkursag, but with Avnos around, she felt as safe as she would back in the caves.

As they trekked through the woods, golden light shining through the trees, she stole a few glances at her first savior. He seemed more focused on the light coming from the trees. One time, he caught her eyes. She smiled at him (not that he could see it), and he smiled back. Then she nearly walked into the Slayer's hand, held in a halt position.

Stretching out in front of them was a golden hill, light paving their path, until it hit the bottom.

The contrast was fierce.

The bottom of the hill was a blasted landscape, ground the color of mottled flesh, pores the size of buildings reaching up like disgusting children. Green molten rock erupted at random intervals, throwing chunks of black rock into the air. The sky had turned a harsh gray over the place.

"The Roaring Plains," Turaan whispered. "In all my life, I never thought it would get this bad…" Maera cocked her head at him. Avnos nodded, pointing to something moving.

She followed his finger, and found a four legged beast that from this distance she could not describe but knew it would try to kill them.

"Keep your eyes on things that aren't each other. We've got some big, big targets here." Maera blinked. How had he-?

Wait, targets?

"Are you saying that we're going to…" Maera left the question hanging in the air. Avnos simply nodded, unsheathing his greatsword as he jogged down the hill in giant steps.

"…with him?" Link was waking. That first voice had definitely been Ros.

"…you…sure?" Their helper. Kalyssa, Link thought it was.

"Si…medication…infection…it may not be…be treated." This was a foreign voice.

"How much?" Ros asked.

"Thirteen-hundred emeralds." Ros sighed.

"Oh my, that is a lot of money!" Kalyssa gasped.

"You use rock currency here?" To Kalyssa.

"Si, Monsieur..."

"Ros."

"Si, Monsieur Ros, we use stones as currency." Kalyssa responded. Ros groaned.

"Can you point me to an exchange center?" Link, still not having regained his vision, didn't see the direction she pointed to, but Ros said his thanks and Link heard footsteps moving away.

Then he opened his eyes.

The room he was in was small. Lined with herbs in jars and other things, his bed was in a corner near the only window in the room- the wall without ornaments. Midna sat on the edge of the bed, her black robes fiercely arguing with the white of the bed. A figure in blue robes and Kalyssa were conversing in the doorway. Midna noticed his stirring, and smiled.

"Hey, you." Midna smiled. Link tried to smile, but his body barely moved. He noticed that Midna's wound was now a simple line, as if she had taken a small scratch, not been bludgeoned. Then Link remembered what he saw.

"I saw him," When he spoke, Kalyssa turned to him. The blue robed man (the doctor, Link supposed) left, and Kalyssa approached him. "I saw that… thing from Hyrule," Midna's brow furrowed in thought, and Kalyssa opened her mouth to ask a question but was cut off by Link. "That thing in the air," Midna's eyes opened wide enough that, if she moved too fast, they may've rolled out of her head. "It called itself Xul."

"Xul?" Kalyssa and Midna asked in unison.

"Then we know the name of our enemy. That's a good thing," Link had not heard Ros return, but there he was. "Also, we don't have nearly enough money for the medicine that may or may not work. It's about thirteen thousand rupees." Link's jaw dropped.

"Thirteen-thousand rupees for something that may or may not help me?!" The mere thought bewildered Link. He also began to feel the infection- a small pain in his stomach.

It had begun.

Sola Merandas was terrified.

At the age of twenty-four, she was still living and working at her father's smithy. She had learned how to hammer metal and create swords, but right now, she could care less about skills. All she wanted to do was run.

Her father, the renowned drunk Ian Merandas, had come home insane again. Now she ran around the anvils and had tried to go up the stairs, but he had thrown a knife at her. He was sluggishly moving up the steps, trying to catch her. Removing the knife, Sola ran from her father, who had reached the top of the steps and was coming for her.

"Girly! You owe me a hundred emeralds. Giiiiirrrrlllllyyyy! Cooommmmeee baaaaaackkk!" Her father screamed as she barricaded the door to her room against the raging drunk. Strong as she was, her father was at least thrice as strong. A few years ago, she had nearly lifted a cart off of a man (she was part of a group) and was able to hold it for long enough for him to get out from under it. Ten years ago, Her father lifted a cart in the air and turned it upside down. That night, she cried herself, remembering her dead mother, and the conditions that forced this on her, as he hammered at the door.

Her father had killed her mother. She couldn't leave, no, not yet, for fear he would come for her and do worse things than beat her. So she was stuck, living in fear. Every night she had cried, wished herself that her living conditions were… different. She wished things could have worked out. Multiple times he had threatened to send her to the brothels, tied up like a slave. Considering the fact he frequented there, it would be no surprise if he had contacts there. She wondered where her sister had run off to. Sometimes, in the night, her father would sneak into her room and abuse her to try to find out where her sister had gone.

"Kaly... Why did you leave me here?" She whispered into the pillow.

Once again, in the small, windowless room on the metal bed, Sola felt her mother's embrace and went to sleep.

"So… this is Garaniv?" Danuvius asked Stallord, who was a walking skeleton with claws and horns and a maw. Stallord nodded.

They stood on the Faerin Peninsula, in the Moorlands, looking on to stretches of land and road. They were looking off a cliff, side by side. The vast ocean lay on the other side. Stallord sighed.

"It isn't much on the Peninsula, due to Terra Firma activities. Which, we need to visit." Stallord changed shape (an ability that his compressed form could manage) into a six foot tall armored knight with a spear on his back and a dagger on his waist. The steel and leather shone brightly in the morning sun.

"Are you ready?" Danuvius asked, holstering his gunblade. Stallord nodded.

"This, my friend, is our brave new world."

Whew! That was fun, no? Sorry for the short update, but like I said a few chapters ago, I like to leave things off on an edge. Quite the chapter, hmm? Just you wait, my dear reader: this is a new beginning for all of our characters. Yes, our characters. We shall go forth and you will see the ups and the downs- are you ready for a ride, friends? Good, then come with me- Garaniv awaits.