Scene 8: Lightbringer
For days now upon first glimpsing the building Cecil longed to stand before it, touch the cold stone walls, divine from it the secrets of the light to mend his broken soul. Days since 'the feeling' haunted him here. And now the dark knight finally stood before it, his heart seeking solace from the fear threatening to claim it.
The age old question: how could he ever be deemed worthy?
He, a knight of the deepest darkness, carrying the weight of a thousand sins. Him...a paladin? A warrior of the purest virtue, of the noblest of deeds? No wonder the mages at Mysidia mocked him so--even he couldn't believe it. You might as well told the dark knight that they would land on the moon some day, and even find sentient life! Seemed about as likely...
"So how exactly is this large lump of rock suppose to make Cecil here a paladin?" quipped Palom, happily tapping the stone.
Porom snatched his hand and scolded, "Don't question powers your immature mind couldn't possibly understand!"
As crude as he made it, Palom had a point. They had spent the better part of an hour attempting to enter the building, but with no luck. Shoving, spells, even trying to pick the lock had availed them none. What a disappointment to have to return to Mysidia it would be if they had to face the Elder after admitting that they failed because they couldn't manage to open a door?
"And Meteor..." Tellah added, his brow furrowed as he flipped through a mage-book he'd already reviewed four times before. "Where is it? Surely this building holds the key, if only we could get through that blasted door already!" His dark eyes appraised a line of ancient text on the building again. "The words say 'Speak, Son, and you may enter'...but I've already said the word son in Common, Dwarfish, Mysidian, and all the tongues of the Blue Planet!"
"It's a riddle." Palom bounced up. "But who's a 'Son' here?"
All that time Cecil had not spoken, too overwhelmed by it all. But this time he suddenly felt compelled. "Tellah's the only one who has a child, but he had a daughter." Five fingers of a single hand rested on the door, bewildered. "It...is seeking its own son, but who could that be?"
A voice emanated from the building, diamond-strong and otherwordly. "My son...at last you have arrived."
All eyes shot to the dark knight. His own eyes bulged beneath the visor he hurriedly pushed up. "Son? Who speaks to me?"
A riot of light gushed out of the edifice. The four covered their faces. The intensity of the light felt as if it could peel skin from the body, yet it hurt them not. If anything the light was as pleasant as a summer's breeze with a thousand times the power.
When at last he could see, Cecil beheld a sight so beautiful his heart fluttered. Somehow the light transported them into the building and in a hallowed hall, much akin to the one at Mysidia, but even more ancient and radiant. Crystalline pillars held up a canopy of shimmering ceilings and beneath them the floor gleamed polished like a thousand mirrors. The far wall glistened too, a mirror which oddly enough only reflected the dark knight's form.
Son? Did that mean...?
"Long have I awaited this, the day that you would come..." That voice again.
Cecil's hand flew to his sheath but of course it came away empty. As if Deathbringer could do any real damage against a power so immense, so pure. His face flushed, though the dark knight suffered no fever. His eyes panned the room but he couldn't pin-point the sound. "Show yourself!"
Behind him the twins and Tellah glowed with pre-spell casting energy. Yet they too couldn't trace the source of the voice.
"A tragedy unfolds now which pains me more than you can know. To end it, I gift to you my light, though in so doing I condemn myself to sorrow greater still."
Was there sadness in that voice?
"...But the hour is late...No other road remains..."
Another flash of light forced the party to shield their eyes. Upon dissipating Cecil lay his gaze upon the stunning sight of a sword. The blade was made of starlight so pure only the brightest of stars could ever have been used in its making. Upon the hilt could be glimpsed an inscription but not the exact text.
Dragon. Stars. Light. Darkness. Oaths. What did it all mean?
He didn't have long to wonder as the sword floated towards him. Cecil stepped back, unnerved, fearful that it would pierce him for daring to enter a hall so holy. It did not relent, advancing on him in its steady pace. The dark knight retreated again, face ashen now.
"The time has come. Bid farewell to your bloodstained past."
Suddenly the blade was thrust into his hand and for a half-lucid moment Cecil witnessed a man, silver hair, blue eyes, encased in shining armor. The sword was passed from that man to him. Then that image vanished and light cascaded from every nook and cranny of the building, coverging at that point and swept into his very soul.
The light burned and froze him all at the same time. Sweat poured down his body even as chills made a prison of his own limbs. Cecil couldn't comtemplate standing it for more than a single moment and yet the light continued to batter his body as if to scorch the darkness clean from him. His mind began to fray and the dark knight feared that his feeble strength not enough to survive this.
Memories flashed beneath eyelids. Kain striking him down. Rosa kissing him. Rydia grabbing his leg in fear. Edward strumming his lute. Yang leaping. Golbez blasting him with lightning. Tellah grumbling. The twins looking up to him, trusting him...
Friends. Enemies. Feelings. If Cecil thought the Elder's mind-meld an invasion, it was nothing compared to this, as no corner of his soul was safe from the flood of light.
When Cecil came to he knew without having to look that he'd altered forever. Purification. Not because light can douse darkness alone, but because he struggled and sacrificed and had been judged and deemed worthy...
...deemed worthy.
Gasps from behind him caused Cecil to glance down at his body, his breath caught in his throat at the sight. Gone was the suffocating dark armor. Now he was shrouded in armor that didn't just absorb light, but radiated it firecely. And clasped in his hands glistened a sword so holy, so powerful he felt energized just to hold it.
Paladin.
How? Just how?
But again time's river waits for no one and while before Cecil cursed the laspes in action that gave his mind plenty of time to torture himself, this time the voice returned, urgent, "Forsake the darkness you once embraced or the light will find no hold." The newly-annointed paladin glanced up, startled to see that the dark knight image remained in the mirror. "Vanquish the dark knight. You and he are one no more!"
As if made of water the dark knight emerged from the other side to stand before Cecil. His sword, Deathbringer Cecil supposed, rose in challenge, posed for the paladin's heart. Fear pierced through Cecil's heart as if the blade had already found home, but he stiffled it and lifted his own sword.
"There are two of them!" exclaimed Tellah.
Palom yelled, "What is happening?"
Sword of light and sword of darkness crossed, an ancient sign of a challenge accepted. Tears burned in the paladin's eyes, emotion threatening to overwhelm him as the tears themselves did. Not in a thousand years had Cecil thought himself worthy of the hallowed light. And if this battle should be the last moment of his life, he would be forever grateful.
"Cecil!" called out Porom, anxious.
"Look out!" added her brother.
Cecil knew his course though it raised the goosebumps on every pore of his body. He didn't think himself ready so soon, birthed so recently into the light. "Stay back," he heard himself say, his unarmed arm waving them away. "This is a fight for me and me alone. My attonement for all the sins I've wrought." His blue eyes narrowed. "My test." Then his sword extended, this time aimed for the dark knight's chest. "And one I do not mean to fail!"
With no warning the dark knight dove into action, scoring a hit on Cecil's shoulder. Screams from his friends accompanied that sound, as the paladin himself cried out in pain. Cecil then dodged belatedly, missing a blow that would have beheaded him. The dark knight struck out as he had once, with no mercy, every attack meant to kill.
The paladin lifted his sword to parry and rivulets of shock ran down the blade and up his arm to his injuried shoulder. Something hot spread over his neck and down his chest and he spared not even a glance, so focused on defending against the murderous onslaught. This was a battle to the death, at least as far as the dark knight seemed concerned. But what of Cecil...commit another slaying? Something felt terribly wrong about that.
His vision blurred and each step he took left a bloody footprint. As the dark knight rained down blows, seemingly limitless in his energy, Cecil weakened, his own strength as if someone cut a hole in it and let it pour out. When the paladin struck back, interlocking their swords to halt the flurry of attacks, the paladin knew to fight was to fail. His body would survive were he to kill the dark knight, but his soul would die.
Was killing the only way?
Again and again Tellah and the twins begged to be included in the bout, but no matter how many blows he took, and they were many, Cecil barked at them to stay back. They feared for him, he knew, probably aghast at the pool of blood expanding at his feet, seeing their friend on the brink of collaspe. But this was his test and he would be damned before another friend took a blow that was meant for him. Enough of his friends had perished for him.
When was all the death to end?
Death. Mages. Magic...Magic? Then like a candle had been lit, Cecil realized that as a paladin he was gifted with the art of low-level white magic. Spells that could cure illnesses, extend shields of protection and the most elementary of them all, a healing wave that could repair broken limbs and stem life's fluid.
With his sword sideways Cecil shoved the dark knight back, giving him a generous portion of breathing room. He thanked Rosa in his head for casting the healing spell around him so many times, helping him to recall the words now. He sputtered a few times, his hand upturned, cupped as if to accept a gush of water into it.
And so it did, green light pouring into his palm. then rushing into his body. Many times Cecil experienced the healing spell, but never before had he cast one. To evoke the mystical power known as magic was a high that even the most glorious swordfight could never compare. He now knew why so many sought to learn magic.
No more an engine of destruction, an Angel of Death. Protector. Paragorn. Holy knight. Hero Healer. Leader. These were the titles he could lay claim to now. Invigorated Cecil lifted his sword to defend, to thrust the dark knight back. Now his strength felt limitless, his blocks coming swiftly, effortlessly. He was victor by the virture of hating bloodshed, suffering and death.
Kill with kindness? Slay with sympathy? Murder with mercy?
"You can have victory without vengeance..." Cecil whispered so softly none could hear, save one.
The dark knight suddenly turned and strode back from whence he came, the mirror. Then he vanished completely. In his place stood the man who'd given the paladin the sword he now bore. A man not so unlike Cecil himself. Same silver hair. Same blue eyes. Same build.
"No...can't be..." Cecil breathed as he fell to a knee, sword leaned on as a crutch. This time the tears found freedom, marching down his face in a torrent. "F--father...?"
Though the lips of the man-image didn't move somehow the paladin knew the words issued from him. "Your virtue is proven. I will instill you now with my hallowed light, formed of my very soul. May it be your strength, though it is the last of mine..." As if to emphasis that point, the image faded, allowing the reflection of Cecil genuflected to appear.
The next words spoken emanated as if from a great height, floating higher and higher. Though the voice itself came from a great distance, the force behind it intensified. "My son...you must stop Golbez!"
All in a crushing moment Cecil knew the presence had departed. The paladin hurried to his feet, staggering. "W--wait!"
My son...
Cecil never knew his father. What little he did know was that was a tale of his being found outside the gates of Baron by a soldier, who brought him to the king. Baron's king named him Cecil after Cecilia who was widely believed to be his mother. He was raised in the royal court, coaxed into becoming a dark knight to please the king that cared for him. Cecil knew little of his mother; even less so of his father.
How is it that he should encounter a man claiming to be his father here on this mountain?
Destiny, the Elder had said. For once, Cecil finally believed it.
A hand touched his arm. "Are you alright?" asked Porom, face creased with concern.
Palom came up to his other side. "He really did it after all!"
His white mage sister brought a finger to her lips, eyes meancing Palom.
But the paladin's mind flooded with emotions too raw to take notice. So much had occurred so fast. The fiend's defeat, twice. Ascending to paladinhood. Conquering the dark knight. Encountering his father..."What is this warmth I'm feeling? It's so...familiar."
Behind the three Tellah yelped in joy. "My spells...I remember all of them!" When the paladin slowly turned around he could see the sage beamed, hands clasped together. From the way his mouth was agape, Cecil realized that wasn't the only thing that had the sage smiling.
"Me...teor? That light must have granted it to me. The most powerful black magic spell of all, mine at long last!" His hands flew to his beard, overcome.
The twins muttered amongst themselves about "telling him" something but Tellah stepped forward, eyes flashing, hand on Cecil's shoulder. "With this we are made ready at last. Let us bring the fight to Golbez! Cecil!" The paladin gazed into his eyes without focus, himself too swept away by recent events. "What are you standing around for! We must hurry!"
"Of course," was all the paladin could manage to get past the lump in his throat. Then a bit more, "Let's go."
Without further prompting the sage departed eagerly. The twins hung around a moment, gazing up at Cecil. The paladin looked at the door without seeing it. With a brief nod and Palom and Porom left him alone in the hallowed hall, as if sensing he needed a moment more.
"That light. It called me it's...son?"
Casting a glance over a shoulder, Cecil swore he saw that man in the mirror once more, then realized that man was him.
The hall was empty a moment later.