So, here is the preview to The Sound of Madness that I promised Tango-chan, which is my Soul Eater/ Final Fantasy XII crossover. It is a continuation of the World Traveler Series; I loved it too much to stop. This is a very short preview... but it serves its purpose. I hope you like it! Thanks to emeraldonyxdragon for reviewing!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Balthier sat by the window of the Strahl, the window open and the cool Phon Coast wind blowing on his face. It was midnight, and Fran was asleep in her bunk, curled under a quilt, her nose twitching in her sleep. On the small table, a slightly wilted rose rested in a chipped mug of water, perfuming the salty sea air with its scent. This was the rose Lightning left at his grave during the little "incident" involving his "death" by hanging; he'd begged Fran to cast the most powerful Slow spell she could upon it to slow it's passing. So far, a year later, the lush petals were only a little wrinkled about their edges. In the moonlight, the rose, red as phoenix feathers, looked almost blue.
"Dark blue; the color of death." Penelo whispered from behind him, her pale grey lips almost touching his ear. Her skin was the color of snow, her eyes black as the darkest reaches of the sea. Balthier reached forward to touch the rose with a finger; when his skin encountered the moonlight, he choked in terror.
Bones. Hard, grey bones with patches of filmy, rotted skin stretched over them here and there, caressed the soft petals. Balthier quickly retracted his hand from the moonlight, staring as it was covered in tawny flesh again.
"No…" he breathed, thrusting both hands into the light again. He bit his lip, hard, feeling his own cold blood rush into his mouth. His senses were clogged by the stench of copper and the salty, bitter taste, but the pain of the bleeding cut was real. He was not dreaming. It was back.
The curse was back.
"Fran," he only had to speak her name and she was awake, sitting up in the bunk and looking at him with an appalled expression.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," she breathed as he stood, silhouetted by the light pouring in from the window. "This… why? Calypso's spell should have stopped this from happening!"
Balthier looked out the window, pulling his shirt off as he did so to examine the medallion suspended in a knot of decaying flesh. Its luster was gone, the sharp edges no longer defined. "The spell is gone." A dead crab washed up on the shore, and Balthier's sharp, sharpshooter's eyes did not fail to see it. "Calypso is dead. It must be… that no one believes in her anymore. The time of the gods on Earth has passed."
"Did it not pass long ago? When the machines from Earth went rampant in Ivalice?"
"Will was still there, as was Jack, but… I fear that, with Calypso's passing, the time of the Dutchman is over." Balthier pulled the curtains shut, and there was a quiet squelch as his appearance resumed to be that of a normal Hume's. He grimaced at the sound.
"We will find a way to remedy this, Ffamran." Fran tried to reassure him, but her words were hollow. Balthier felt his blood run cold; not even Fran, his wise, all-knowing Fran, knew what to do.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash from the cockpit. They shared a look. Bounty hunters? Silently making their way down the hall and toward the control room, they peered past the curtain and into the cockpit.
The window was shattered, and a girl stood there, brushing herself off. She wore a short, tartan skirt and a long black coat, almost like a robe, but it revealed short, slender legs. Balthier's eyes traveled up her legs, appreciating the view, before resting on her face. She was young, no older than fifteen, if he had to guess. She wore her hair in two pigtails that would have been quite adorable if one was into that sort of thing. However, this gentle, school-girl appearance was offset by the large, black and red scythe she carried in her white-gloved hands. When she finished brushing herself off, she caught sight of them, and Balthier found himself at the business end of her weapon. Judging by the way she held it, she was no amateur at using it, either. Despite his predicament, the girl's announcement nearly made him laugh.
"Kishin, prepare yourself! In the name of Lord Death, I have come to collect your soul!"