Epitaph of Twilight: Spica
Shunning the field broken by Wave,
The shadowed girl whispers,
"Surely, I will return."
Alas, the truth unbeknownst,
Awaiting her at journey's end,
Eternal mourning for her land.
Epitaph of Twilight, by Emma Weilant
(Excerpt from .Hack/Another Birth)
Prologue Primus
A woman stood alone in a shattered landscape. Her silver hair was cut raggedly, as though she had been in a fight. Her body scarred all over, her clothing torn. She was facing away from the traveler, standing in a ruin that might have once been a home. Her sight was directed toward a gate, burnt and splintered, the walls around it crumbled and worn smooth with age. Above her, the sky was eternal red twilight, the barren, lifeless landscape covered over by thick, noxious clouds and puffs of dust kicked up by the hot wind. It was a scene worthy of the Apocalypse, but she paid no notice. Only when the traveler was close enough to touch the woman did she turn around. Their eyes locked: the traveler's, saddened and determined; the woman's, mildly curious, childishly innocent. And then, the woman spoke to the traveler.
"Do you know the end?" She gave the traveler a small, curious smile, like a child asking for a treat from an older friend.
"I do not," the traveler replied, "but you do not need to search any more."
The woman smiled. She was the last in this barren place; all the others had gone ahead, thanks to the traveler. She, by far, knew the most about this person. This traveler, who always left the village sometime in the morning or afternoon, always reappeared again inside the village the following morning, sometimes frustrated and shouting, other times resigned. Either way, she always helped the Lost Ones move on. This was a kind traveler.
A kind traveler who also needed information.
For there was only one place that travelers, rare as they were—after all, they were the only ones still alive-- went in Dherris-Kharlan: the Tower of Salvation. But this traveler was of a different sort. She was a Dream Traveler, who always walked towards the Tower, but never reached it, because the world she was in was only real to her in her dreams. This barren reality for the Lost Ones—neither buried nor mourned in death—was simply a dream to the only ones who had the power to send Lost Ones on the final journey: the Dream Traveler. Some Lost Ones, who were the evil sort and deserved no mourning, set off to find the Tower for themselves, and claim the treasure within, which was said to possess enough power to bring them back to the world of the living. But none of these evil ones ever reached it or returned.
The traveler's small hand reached up to the Lost woman's face. "It's okay to rest," she said, looking up with clear blue eyes. The traveler was but a child, likely only Genin rank in the living world, at best.
"I know," replied the woman. "But there is something I must do before I move on. Do you know of the Wave?"
"The… Wave?" the traveler repeated, confused.
"It is a power shared by the strongest travelers, which binds them to one another. Only when the Wave unites will the path to the Tower open." The woman had paid much of her soul, which was all she had left, to find this information and entrust it to the one who needed it. Her scars were the symbol of her payment.
The girl paused, startled. "T-thank you," she stammered.
"No, thank you," the woman replied, smiling. Her final mission was complete; she had no more reason to remain in this forsaken place.
"…Good night." The woman with silver hair vanished, leaving behind a memento on the ground. The traveler carefully picked it up and hung it on the remains of a wall, an abandoned hite-ate to mark the passing of a Lost One.
More time had passed than the traveler realized. As she was sending off the stragglers of what appeared to be a gigantic battle in the village, she hadn't even once looked up at the sky. It was nearing twilight… there was no use trying to make headway today. Already, this world, Dherris-Kharlan, was fading before her eyes, along with the memory of most of the day's events. But one thing remained in her mind.
The Wave. What is this Wave, anyway?
The Wave.
The…