Redemption and Rebirth

Emblem's Vestige

The evening casts its shadows within the walls of the sanctum. The confines of the sanctuary remained still and quiet, enough for some to rest quietly. But for the one encased in its shelter, he remained awake for his sake. The elaborate armchair that was on the center of the room hosted a figure obscured by the shadows, thanks to the dim lighting of the whole chamber. The lamp stand stood on his side, its light giving a view of his visage and his clothing. It reflected on his gray eyes, the light giving it a gleam of silver. The jet strands lay in its layered form, its fine and straight styling gave its seemingly elegant guise. Lying pensive on his seat as he reclined, the black vestment being almost indistinguishable to the shadows of the room, he mused at the memoirs stirring his mind.

The shadows played its role to his eyes, setting a canvas for his mind's eye to project the nearly forsaken memoirs. He winced at the images, incoherent in its blur as it rushed through his head like a fleeting spectrum of colors flying to and fro. Quietly, he turned to the flames of which the dim light came. He was agitated at them, feeling that it was not worth recalling them at all. Trying to find solace to the lone evening, his eyes tried to search within the room again. Encased in the serene moments that filled his silence with calm, this moment in his sanctuary was a bliss that he could afford. He could only curse under his breath, trying to rid himself of the nightmares that almost consumed his silence.

"Heavens….what should be done to rid my soul of this bitterness?" he whispered with a tone of hidden distress. His eyes came closed, ridding his sight of the dim light for the moment. His palm came to move, fingers trailing on his cheek as the palm engulfed his visage. Running it through the skin that seemed pale to the lighting, he uttered another thought. "Why must this burden repeat the anxiety of which many souls had suffered for centuries? Are they not satisfied with this result?"

A sigh came to leave his lips. Exasperated with the unwanted memoirs of old, he wished to avert himself from the recollection of what he despised. The silence that engulfed the very room stirred, gracing a presence to be felt within the vicinity of his chamber. In the back of the cleric's mind, he had found a manner of solace to rid himself of the thoughts at the moment. Without turning, he broke the silence in acknowledgement.

"Any news you can give me at this time?" the man spoke with a strained voice, the annoyance and the distressful mind stirring his own conscience. His fingers tapped on the armchair, dipping and tapping on the wooden piece with sequencing rhythm.

The figure remained within the span of the dark corner, the shadows aiding his concealed form as he stood. The cleric felt it without any effort made, the presence being quite a familiar aura for him to remain pensive. A voice came with its response, answering the man with his query.

"The plan is on schedule, Lord Xion." the stranger replied without any hint of melody in his voice. Seemingly lifeless and devoid of will, his eyes gleamed with ominous purple peering through the shadows. "The azure angel has arrived within the city-state of Arcadia. They're in the Brahms metropolis district. A wanderer kept her company at this point upon arrival within the metropolis. The carmine angel has yet to come, having a company of a deva and a nymph. They are venturing through Rau Forest so to speak and are en route to the same place. They'll converge soon."

"I see. The plan seems to be going well as expected." Xion replied with a chuckle from his lips. Leaning on his elbow with an amused countenance, a smirk marked his visage. So they came to accompany the two. This is interesting.

"But milord, I bring also grim tidings." the dweller continued. "The cities of Vera, Albion, Franca, and Cathay have fallen. Rama and Canan are at the brink of destruction. The whole Union of Olin is at the point of distress."

Xion grimaced, the reaction made him rise from his seat. His hands gripped the armrest of the chair as he pushed himself to stand. Ambling from the chair and towards the center of the room, he was calm to hide such devastation within. How much more will be lost? This he cannot allow to continue further. He brought his finger to trace unto the air symbols in arcane nature, writing a word with the said glyphs. A faint glow came in vestige as it crafted the circle. The array of magic was short-lived to appear, shedding its light into an ethereal mass in its fluid state. The sage brought his hand to reach out, grasping the material. The ethereal matter solidified, taking the guise of a train of cloth as the light evanesced. The silken material rested within his palm, a thought now coming to mind.

"Judas, we have to move quickly." Xion spoke, taking the cloth to lie on his nape. Bringing the material to flow on his shoulders then through his chest, the train reaching near his feet, he looked at the shade and gave his explanation. "We'll initiate the second phase of the plan. Pray we're not too late."

With the command given, he turned back towards the door of the sanctum. He sauntered, taking his leave from the chamber. The door closed behind him as he glided away, leaving Judas on the darkened corner with a concealed manner. The shade closed his eyes and leaned back on the wall, melding in the dark and faded within the shadows of the evening.

Shades of purple stretched in what seemed to be an eternity in a vast order. Veils of obsidian shaped like vessels sailing through the sky cruise in its slow pace. A darkened flow ebbed on that endless chasm shrouded with a sea of clouds. Empty and fleeting, this world came to unravel before her eyes. The woman remained standing, seemingly suspended within the realm of which time seemed defied. The cape of cerulean covering her white vestment was still in its flowing grace. The strips of black circled her form, its shade no darker than the black wings heralded on her back. The silence was deafening at one point, the image seemingly still with its gradual pace. That moment halted to continue as a voice came to echo.

"Why did you choose this?" the voice echoed, its tone resembled a child's voice. "Why? Tell me."

The woman stirred, turning to gaze where it came from. Searching to and fro, her gaze came to sweep through but to no avail. Every moment she turned, the voice cycled with the question once more. Again, she turned to find its source.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice raised in a tone agitation. "Show yourself."

Upon turning for the last time, before her this child appeared. A little girl stood, clothed with a white dress. Her blond hair flowed on her shoulders; the rest reached her back in its elegance. This innocent soul bore a striking resemblance. The child was like a younger version of the woman. Laying her gray eyes unto the child's eyes of similar shade, it seemed to be gazing a mirror's enchanted reflection. The child wore a sad look, filled with question and gloom as her lips began to speak.

"Why did you choose this, Malice?" the child asked. Her hand came to reach out to her, her fingers coming to touch the white fabric of the woman's vestment. The palm came to lie on her abdomen, resting as she continued. "Why did you give it up?"

A glow came to flicker on the child's hand, engulfing her body with a cold aura of azure. On the woman's abdomen revealed an intricate array, her navel being the center of the circles. From the array came the lines climbing their way to her back and reached her nape. Another set of lines came to circle her waist, ending in a circle inscribed on her chine. The mantle of azure hid the glowing markings on her back, despite the light peering through with its symbols. Malice could not answer the child, not a reason justifiable to suffice or a meaning to the decision given witness by the markings. She only stood there and stared back at the gray eyes gazing at her. This made her question herself.

"Did I…do this…for no reason?" she uttered, her voice quiet in its hushed tone. "Why did I choose this?"

From the child's eyes flashed a light. Its span filled her sight, blinding her with its engulfing presence. The white flash covered everything around her. Malice raised her hands, attempting to block away the blinding light. But from that white haze, a surge came to rush within her body. It forced her to gasp out, as if it was calling her to wake.

A stifled gasp echoed within the room as it left Malice's lips. She rose from the bed, her chest heaving as sweat covered her body. A strange dream has once more haunted her. Her skin was beaded with sweat, glistening on her fair skin under the afterglow of the moonlight. Veiled behind the concealing clouds, the halo of its serene glow gave its bright span. Staring at the faintly illuminated wall, she pondered about the strange vision. The blue jacket she wore earlier was draped on the corner of her bed, along with the sleeves of white that lay on top of the garment. A moment of silence came to dwell as her thoughts began to recall the questions within her mind.

Why did I choose that oath? What am I after? Malice asked herself silently within her thoughts. Her hand came to touch the thin material of her shirt. With a grasp of her fingers, the garment came to hike upwards, exposing the fair skin. The abdomen with its smooth radiance was contrasted with the black markings of the symbol. The glyph that has branded her was the reminder of such deal. Doubt soon came to cloud her thoughts. "Why did I give it up? Why did I give up my future to be a Grim Angel?"

Her mind began to drift, searching for questions upon staring at the expanse. No thought conjured any meaningful answer, not a reason came to give her such respite. Lifting her palm from her side, she gazed at the lines of her hand with such question. A faint glow of azure gave its resonance, its aura growing slightly cold with the unseen and dissolved presence of the Diviner. A blond strand came to flow freely as its length slid away from her shoulder as it obscured her profile from the gentle rays. She remained pensive, letting the silence slowly take her into her peace. From the back of her mind came an image, unmistakably from a sealed recollection. She closed her eyes, growing quiet as she laid her form back down to dream once again in her rest.

Was it for myself? Or was it for you?

The sun was gentle with its radiance, curtained by the silk curtains that surrounded the windows of the manor. The room with its elegant furnishings came to life with the sound of the piano echoing within the confines of the chamber. The maiden, the host of this very home, came to succumb and drift with the gentle notes played. She listened, her body leaning on the instrument with her elbows with a serene countenance. Her white dress came to contrast with the grand piano's black shade, as well as with the one playing the instrument itself.

She laid her eyes on the musician, watching the youth play with dexterous fingers. The apparel of black which he wore was matching his elegant movements and his skill influenced with passion came to reveal. The short blond strands of the young man remained unchanged, its length reaching his neck as time passed. The white scarf tucked in his black vestment was adorned with the dark lace circling it, a charm of pearl seated on the center. The expression of his face was unchanging, focused on the song as if taken away by the very rhythm and the very notes of the piece. Time drifted as if there wasn't any end, like an immortal portrait painted on canvas. With the last notes laid, he ended the song.

The musician gazed back at the maiden, at the noblewoman who stood there before him. Seated upright, he laid his hands on his lap. Their eyes met on that moment, time seemingly halting to the nearly eternal gaze that they gave. It went on, this stillness between them. Neither of them uttered a word on that brief moment. An aura of a dream seemed to fill its presence in the air. Unable to fathom what this serenity is, both were seemingly speechless. A small breeze danced outside the manor, stirring the tree branches to sway as its shadows danced between them. Thus the voice woke them out of their reverie.

"Lady Malice…" the youth called her, his tone calm and filled with warmth.

Malice stirred, gazing at the young man with a questioning look. "Why did you stop, Ledah?"

"Because I wanted to," his answer came straightforward. "Your gaze seemed distant from here. A dream, perhaps, my lady?"

Malice smiled at the man as she nodded. "Please, Ledah. You don't have to act formal with me. We are equal, remember that."

With the words that she uttered, Ledah smiled slightly. He turned back to the varying keys of black and white, his fingers hovering upon them once more. "Do you want another song, Malice?"

He felt a pair of hands laid on his shoulders. Soon did he feel the silky golden strands touch him as her head came to lean. She was seated beside him, quite a surprise on his part. He never noticed her to be this close, a slight blush filling his cheeks with warmth and its pinkish tint. With a whisper, she answered him. "Could you do so, Ledah?"

"Very well." he replied. A lone finger pressed down a key, its tone lingered as soon followed a few more. With each tone came a melody, gentle and calm. Blissful in sound, the music filled the air once more. But as he continued playing, he heard her call him once more.

"Ledah." she said.

"What is it?" Ledah asked whilst he continued with his song.

"Can we…stay this way for a while longer?" Malice asked him, her voice soft in demeanor.

Ledah closed his eyes as he whispered his reply. "As you wish...my love,"

The city streets were empty under the bright night. The streetlamps illuminated the path of which the wanderer treads through. The moonlight guided his path as well. Its gentle light gave its silver glint on the surroundings, accenting a few shadows on the avenues and pathways. Siegel sauntered with a relaxed yet alert consciousness. His hands were laid within the shelter of his coat's pockets. His leather boots echoed and clapped on the pavement which he walks upon, following the path within a series of roads. Though there were quite a few people that he came across with, the vastness of the city still overwhelms as though one can get lost within its winding pathways. Despite that, Siegel wasn't bothered at all.

His pace was much leisurely, although he could have felt someone was trailing his path somehow. A feeling of instinct dictated, giving him an uneasy sensation that aroused his alertness. He kept his cool and continued, putting this hunch in mind as he walked on. The buildings came to his glance, those faded colors of gray and its lost luster came to life with the moonlit glow. A few steps more led him to an open space, a vast area where every path converged.

The area carried a marvel of a preserved society. Each building and structure standing in its protected glory came to surround the square with its own presence. Like an arcade of a metropolis, the square's vast space denoted its status. Adding to that status of prestige was the memorial pillar that stood in the center, an obelisk with engravings of old. The whole plaza was empty under the watch of the midnight moon, spare for a stranger that stood before the obelisk. His back was turned to Siegel, gazing at the monument. A cylindrical canister rested on his back, its metallic luster glistening under the moonlight. The gray cloak adorned on his body gave its shady figure with the canister resting outside its covering. And with the luster of the moon, his short hair of silver glistened under its glow.

Silence truly overwhelmed them, the gap taking its spacious toll in its deafening reach. The wanderer observed the stranger, perusing at the features this man possessed. In the back of his mind, something stirred to disturb him. Siegel remained quiet, staring as his gloved hands came to clench in its guard. The air around them began to come in tension, ominously cold denoting a nefarious presence.

"Isn't this city glorious in the dead of the night?" the man spoke, breaking the silence between them. Siegel was caught startled when he spoke, but his reaction showed no sign of flinching. "With the moon glowing this bright, the stars slowly hiding in the clouds, and no being to stir the serenity…"

"What made you become poetic this time?" Siegel remarked with a chuckle lined in his words. The words itself struck him odd, finding that there was something else implied that negates the very statement made. His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the stranger. "What are you planning?"

The stranger faced him, turning with a pivot of his foot. The cloak billowed, revealing the pieces of leather and cloth in his garments concealed by the shroud. The leather vest topped on the shirt that hugged his torso, the bracers on his arms that support the gloves on his hands, the belt that circled his legs as it made the trousers hug the shape of his limbs. With his foot tapping on the pavement with the leather soles of his boots, he cordially gave a smirk.

"Trust me, you don't want to know." he gave his reply good-naturedly. He reached for the canister on his back, whirling it in a few circles before laying it before him with an echoing drop. A slight gust gave its wave on both of them, causing the strands of their hair to feel the air along with the edges of their garments. "Unless you're dying to learn about it, I can arrange that appointment for another time."

"So, you feel like running with your tail between your legs?" Siegel mocked, his hand reaching within his coat. He came to grasp on the handle, waiting for the moment as he stood guard.

"As I said, that can be arranged." the stranger winced as he gripped on the cylinder. Light came to outline on the linear patterns of the canister, peering through with its energy. Its binds began to shoot out, yielding its bind as the seal broke. The pieces that comprise the very vessel began to shatter and vanish in the light. On that moment, a flash overwhelmed the darkness of the square in a brief count of time. As it dissipated, what was on the stranger's grasp was a sword with its broad blade. Its outline and form from blade to hilt gave a striking familiarity to Siegel. The stranger gazed at him with gleaming eyes of emerald, his grasp to the sword holding herald to the weapon.

"Surprised on what you're seeing, Fallen Angel?" he snickered. The verdant aura that surrounded the weapon and the azure glow of the warrior mingled in shades. The silver pieces of the silver began to reform, circling his body as they amass on his body from the shoulders and arms as pauldrons and gauntlets to his legs as greaves. On his head came a headpiece, matching it with a visor that covered his visage. On his back where the cloak was lined came tattered as silver pieces formed a parallel array, likened to act as both cape and wing. Siegel could not believe his eyes that there before him was what he could not fathom to appear.

"I'm not expecting your appearance here in this city." Siegel replied coolly, whipping his hand out of the coat which he adorned. On his hand was the handle of his Diviner, its blade materializing in a quick flicker of light as it revealed its defining shape. His grip on his weapon came to tighten, stating his name with a stress of mingling disdain and excitement. "Accursed Sword Knight, Isher."

"Oh, you recognize my appearance. I believe we met before, Siegel of the Dominion Choir." Isher spoke as he raised his sword. "Mind if you refresh my memory with Excalibur here?"

Siegel gave no answer. Raising his sword, he aligned the weapon before his visage. Turning to the broad side of his blade, his lips came to utter a quiet prayer. His eyes came to close as a passage passed his lips, whispering it to the sword. Opening his eyes, he came to speak out a word audible in an end to his cantillation. "Amen."

With a whisk of his Diviner, the air began to stir as it circled around Siegel. The bound length of his silver locks came to gleam with the moonlight as his aura began to resonate with his will. With a gleam of bright emerald, his sword displayed its presence of power. A mark began to appear on his forehead, reacting to the activation of the Angelic Seal's release. He looked at Isher, a grin coming to his lips in reaction.

"Don't worry, two can play that game." Siegel rebutted to the Accursed One. "Dance with me, Balmung."

Both warriors came prepared on their battle, blades now bare and power now displayed. Waiting for the moment of reckoning, the two stood before each other with the stillness taking its toll. As if counting down the moments that the stars assemble to watch, the square engulfed them with deafening silence. That moment of agonizing respite was going to end, its release now thrown with the click of the clock tower's hand.

Footsteps echo at the walls of the alleyway. The empty premises brought the sounds to resound lucidly. Clapping soles of leather in its hampered paces heralded a man's arrival. The trail made by his garments of black flutter along the shadows, gliding at the pace of his sprint. The cloth of azure silk draped around his shoulders as it flowed onwards on his chest with its insignia embroidered on its tips denoted his clerical status. The cleric's black hair gave its luster as its strands dance with the wind. With the number of steps he had taken, the pace of his body's movement left trails of his afterimage in shades of sable. He was in a hurry, not a time should be wasted.

"Judas, pray you make it in time." he whispered as he dashed through the pathway. Deep in his consciousness, he discerned something peculiar. He gritted his teeth, his hands tensing in agitation. "If what I feared is true, the Accursed would be here soon."

From the shadows shot out a number of undead soldiers. Their blades glimmered under the moonlight, waiting to be tainted with blood. The cleric gave not a time to hesitate as he whipped his hand in a diagonal arc. The light left a trail to the path of his nieve, a luminous crescent came to appear before him. The skeletons that pounced at him disintegrated upon touching the glowing arc; shattered that a blow wasn't even landed on the young cleric. Leaving the fallen squad of undead soldiers in a single swoop, he inwardly gave his remark.

"You can't stop me with this pawns." he uttered as his steps brought him further with inhuman agility and speed. "I, Xion von Grise, will stop you what cost must be paid. Neither will I be stopped with your ghastly legions nor your Arcanum that controls these accursed beings."

A golem came to block Xion's path, towering with its gargantuan form. The cleric didn't halt his pace, using his momentum as he charged forward. He readied his hand, pulling back as it came poised with its action. The energy stirred as a spherical mass came to conjure upon his palms, its power being compressed within its binds. The orb of power came to glow, near in its filled state as it shimmered with its strength now flickering with his will. Xion lunged forth; a fluid streak of black came to trail in his motion. Such speed caught the golem by surprise as the cleric's form was suspended in the air.

The being's sluggish movements gave time to retain its opening. Xion spared no hesitation as his hands shot forth. The sphere that was on his palm blasted, its pressure and impact due to the compression was released. The energy engulfed the gargantuan being, the strike shattered the body as it caused the golem to explode. The broken shards of the golem shot out at every direction, the parts engulfed by the sphere of energy were rendered into dust. Xion passed through the remains of the gigant, wasting no time to look at the fallen. Leaving a trail of his shadows moving fluidly and effortlessly in hastened, inhuman pace revealed the nature of his hurried flight.

"I will stop you in doing this, even beyond the cycle of the afterlife. Know this well…Hector."

Cinders and sparks dance in the air, flickering at every collision made. From the fleeting movements of their swift figures, the duelists dance on the pavement. Not a clear form could be seen in their inhuman speed but the waves of cinder and sparks made by clashing blades. A number of blows have passed until the final clash pushed both fighters to distance from the heated assault. Appearing on both ends, Isher settled with Excalibur upon his clasp. The blade gleamed with the luster of the moon, eased as the being stood. The Accursed knight raised his blade, pointing it forward. The tip began to conjure a sphere of energy, charging as it began to take shape. On the other end of the gap came Siegel's image, Balmung in his grasp. The sword came to glow as he rushed forth. A chuckle left Isher's lips, despite being masked by the visor on his face. Without any restraint, a beam blasted out of the tip with its force rushing with relentless force.

"Don't underestimate me." Siegel grimaced as he sidestepped from the shot, evading the shot. With a quick lunge he closed the gap. He swung his blade downward and with such force came a geyser of energy. Isher raised his shield to defend; the flux of energy, however, peered through and pushed him back due to the shock it gave.

Siegel wasted no time and came with ruthless strength. He brandished Balmung in an ascending blow, recovering from the previous attack. Isher kept his shield raised and blocked the attack, pushed back once again in recoil. Siegel came after again with another strike, a horizontal stroke with his blade swiftly came. Hitting the shield again, he utilized the momentum to strike with greater force. With that, he gave a counter-stroke. The blow, however, gave out another geyser of power. The strength of the attack pushed aside Isher's shield, his guard broken on that moment. Relentless in pace, Siegel came to assail as he slashed diagonally, the blade crossing the shoulder and chest. Not only did the sharp weapon cause damage, but so did the anima that accompanied the blow. Isher roared in agony as the pain pierced through his armor. Siegel shifted the wielding of his sword, the blade now held in a backhand grip. The aura shifted its color, from its verdant aura came a gleam of crimson. He crouched, tensing his legs as he readied his blow on the dazed being. He brought his sword in an uppercut, the blade taking the Accursed knight into the air. The flames licked the opponent as he was launched in the air. Now suspended in the air, Siegel focused his will on stirring the air. His legs came together, and with the tension amassed on his tarsals, the air propelled him with its compression. He rushed forth towards Isher, lunging with the blade poised to strike. The Accursed knight came to and raised his sword to block. The two blades met in a powerful clash, but the momentum of Siegel's attack threw them both to the ground. But even before hitting the pavement, Isher swung his sword and threw Siegel out to distance. Both fighters landed on the ground, standing on their feet after the intense exchange.

"You're bound to fail, Siegel." Isher retorted in annoyance. "You cannot stop us from repeating Ragnarok once again."

"Is that a fact or a threat?" Siegel rebutted as he brought Balmung higher, the blade pointed towards his opponent in a high stance. He gripped the blade with both hands, anticipating anything that could happen. "You must be afraid of failure knowing my presence."

"Then you are either brave to defy us or a fool to do so." Isher raised his sword to the sky. The shadows beneath him shifted, creeping out and making its wide span on the grounds. From the darkened ground ascended daemonic gladiators and soldiers, clad in armor and armed with swords and shields. Siegel winced at the sight, finding the numbers are at odds. He was outnumbered. Isher chuckled. "You can never stop us alone. Who will save you from your imminent demise now? Kill him."

Every dark warrior came to him upon Isher's command. They charged and lunged at him at every corner, giving Siegel no chance to escape. He cast a glance at every opponent that surrounded him, rushing with their attack as they approach. But a glimmer in the sky caught the warrior's sight. For a thought, it seemed like a lone star's flicker in the night sky. A perusal soon caught what gave its sudden sparkle. His eyes came with a refined gaze, recognizing that the sparkling object wasn't a star in the heavens. It was a whirling blade, and from the star-like blade left a mist to shower the sky with brilliance. From the sparkles that filled the heavens came a volley of shards raining down. It descended with such velocity that it struck down and impaled the dark beings that surrounded him. Siegel was left aghast, unable to react quickly to the sudden motion though by expression he kept his façade. Isher was surprised to see that from that sudden ambush of the raining shards, the army that he summoned was vanquished within a blinking of an eye.

"How could this be?" Isher growled upon seeing his army destroyed.

Siegel laid his gaze on one of the fallen soldiers, noticing the shards that impaled its body. He smirked at the objects that dotted its lifeless carcass.

"Knives…" he remarked, wondering on that quick moment what just happened. "A hail of knives…That could mean…"

Before he could conclude, a flash of an afterimage came before him. A man stood before him, arms and legs clad with bracers of platinum. The garb that covered his frame was as black as the shadows. And on his neck was a scarlet scarf, dancing with his short black strands on the evening breeze. The stranger uttered not a word as he whisked his hand in a quick stroke, hurling a knife with such swiftness. The sharp blade rushed in the air towards Isher, only to be whisked away with his sword. Siegel was puzzled on that moment, gazing at the strange warrior that came to his aid.

"What the hell?" Siegel could only utter in amazement and confusion.

The stranger turned to face the Fallen Angel. "Fret not, Siegel. Lord Xion sent me here."

"What?" Siegel blurted.

"Your time has been wasted, Isher. You won't succeed with these odds." a voice stirred from the shadows. Standing behind the Accursed knight was the cleric himself. His hand was aimed at him, his palm prepared to conjure a spell. "It would be best that you retreat if you value your life."

A monstrous laugh bellowed out and echoed. Isher was amused to find the development of each moment tilt out of his favor. He turned around to gaze at the cleric, then soon to the two warriors. He could not believe his defeat was given to him. "Ah, relish this moment, Xion von Grise. Your servants have returned to aid you. This will be quite an amusing affair to see. We shall meet again."

"Isher, tell your master that he will not succeed with this plan." Xion spoke with a tone of confidence and vigilance.

A distortion came to form beneath him from the shadows that lurked. As the darkness circled the being, he descended into the ephemeral corridor. He vanished without a trace; the bodies of the army which he summoned crumbled into ashes, carried by the sudden gust of wind. Siegel lowered his weapon and gazed with marvel at the two who made their appearance. He could not believe that he would see them.

"I never expected to see you here, Xion." Siegel stated with a hint of jubilation. "It truly is a small world, Yggdrasil and all that."

"I get to miss that loose manner of yours." the cleric replied coolly. He sauntered a few steps, approaching the warrior and laid his hand with a simple tap. "With Judas here, he couldn't dare leave out formalities. He carries honor and respect highly. Nevertheless, it's good to see you."

A smile came to Siegel's lips. That moment lightened his burden upon meeting the two. The night spanned in its serene moment, drifting under the starry sky. For now, they have the evening for them to catch up with each other. An evening would be enough for stories, leisure, and ultimately repose……for now.

(End of Chapter)

Another chapter done, another disturbance revealed. I guess there are some things that wouldn't rest. Now some of you had noted the sudden return of a certain boss. Yep, Isher is back. But not just Isher, there are others who reappear. Try to guess who those others are. Please review. Your suggestions and comments are warmly welcomed. We'll see each other again for the next chapter.

Sydney Grise