The land of Egypt is recognized across the world by many icons. The Giza Pyramids, the Great Sphinx, and the Sahara Desert are all memorable and distinctive visuals that make Egypt the most easily recognizable of all ancient civilizations.
Ancient Egyptians had an elaborate set of burial customs that they believed would be necessary to ensure their immortality after death. These rituals and protocols included mummification, the casting of magic spells, and burial with specific goods thought to be needed in the afterlife. At a minimum, these "burial goods" usually consisted of everyday objects such as bowls, combs, and other trinkets, along with food. However, wealthier Egyptians could afford to be buried with gold, jewelry, and other valuables, which often made their crypts the targets of grave robbers.
Egyptian pharaohs and kings were buried with legendary sums of riches, enough treasure to ensure a man comfort and contentment for the rest of his mortal existence – a life that may be cut short by the curses placed on such tombs to project them from tomb raiders...if one believes in that sort of thing.
Yun-seong did not.
Although the corridors were dark, the air was thick with dust, and the temperature was slightly too cool for Yun-seong to be comfortable, he traversed through the ancient temple without grievance. Lit torches lined the walls, part of a belief that the dead would need light to guide his way in the afterlife, but it was still difficult to see far ahead.
Yun-seong was garbed entirely in black, and kept his back pressed against a wall as he slowly and silently advanced through the passageways of the temple, fitting the image of a grave robber perfectly. He was aware that traps often lined the corridors of tombs such as this one, and he proceeded slowly and cautiously with one hand pressed hard against a wall, ready to grip the crevice in between bricks should he suddenly find himself tumbling into a pitfall.
As he made his way forward, he felt one of his fingers slip into a small groove located on the wall of the corridor. He would have thought nothing of it if his finger had not moved a brick beside the groove. Stopping and inspecting the small hole, Yun-seong peered through to see that there was a hidden chamber located behind the wall. Of course! To make things harder for grave robbers, the crypt would be located behind a nondescript wall, not in the middle of an obvious, giant chamber at the end of a grand hallway. Yun-seong had likely found the resting place of some long-deceased Egyptian king.
He pried the brick away, and removed the nearest torch from its mount. Raising the torch to the hole and peering through, Yun-seong was almost blinded by the bright reflection of more golden relics than he could count. Coins, statues, figures, sculptures, religious artifacts, even furniture, all made of gold and studded with jewelry. Yun-seong had stumbled across a fortune large enough to ensure that he would be a rich, rich man for decades to come.
That is, if he cared about such things. Yun-seong wasn't here for treasure. Money could enrich a life, but not protect it. Yun-seong could not protect his friends, family, countrymen, and the ones he loved using coins and jewels. He desired fame, renown, a place in history – not as a man of riches, but a hero who defended lives and saved his country. He pushed the brick back into its place, and left the corridor as it was.
Sacred tombs were rarely visited after the deceased was buried, if at all – but on this night, Yun-seong was not alone in the crypt. It was occupied by dozens of men who were hurrying to complete their task and leave the sacred ground as soon as possible. They would only trespass in his hallowed temple for as long as it took them to repair the damage it had endured. People and materials had been gathered from across the land to mend temples that had been damaged during an attack – but exactly who or what had attacked was unknown. Although the Giza Necropolis was littered with scaffolding, cranes, and lifts to restore the battered structures, information on what had caused this damage was very scarce.
Several vague and cryptic rumors circulating the area implied that the damage had been caused by "a sword". Descriptions of its wielder varied too much to be reliable - the only thing consistent among these rumors was the weapon; a monstrous blade longer than a man is tall.
If just one sword could cause so much destruction, there was only one weapon it could possibly be.
And if these rumors were true, then Yun-seong would not miss a chance to see the damage before the repairs were complete. He had to know of the true power of this weapon, and required more proof than an abundance of reconstructive equipment and refurbished buildings. Only after he had explored a damaged temple and witnessed the devastation for himself would he be satisfied – which explained his presence in a pyramid meant only to be used by the dead.
As Yun-seong began to hear voices and the sounds of movement, he knew he was drawing near the part of the temple's interior that had been damaged. He approached with extra caution – being spotted meant that he'd have to incapacitate whoever saw him, and he didn't want any unnecessary casualties in case he found it difficult to debilitate an aggressor without serious injury.
Seeing light up ahead, Yun-seong knew he was close to where the reconstruction was taking place. Moving slowly and apprehensively poking his head around a corner, he beheld the main hall of the temple – as well as the destruction he sought.
The main hall was enormous, seemingly too immense to fit inside of the temple it occupied. Splashes of crimson defaced the flood, walls, and even the ceiling hundreds of feet above. There were corpses strewn about the room, some of them on top of massive statues, many of which were missing limbs or shattered altogether. There were giant gashes in the walls, cuts both thick and deep. There were also craters lining the room, varying in size, but all perfect spheres. No weapon, but only pure energy released equally on every side could cause such indentations – and some were deeper than the height of two men.
Everywhere Yun-seong looked, he beheld some enormous scar or cavernous gash that appeared to be the work of canon fire, not a blade. But all of the temple's disfigurements were shaped as a slash – they were cut, carved, not blasted...with the exception of the unnaturally round craters. It was indeed no normal foe that had done this, and indeed it was no normal weapon.
As Yun-seong turned his head from side to side to survey the destruction, he saw a giant sheet covering one wall. It was familiar to Yun-seong – he tried to recall where he had seen it before. He remembered – on the outside of the building, Yun-seong had seen a giant tarp covering one of the walls of the massive temple. He assumed that the aggressor had scarred the wall – but now that he saw the same tarp covering one of the giant walls of the main hall, Yun-seong realized how the aggressor had entered.
During his rampage, the invader had destroyed an entire wall of the massive temple and gained entrance through it. The blood and corpses littering the inside of the temple were victims that had been dragged along in the berserker's wake.
A smirk began to grow on Yun-seong's face in a slow and unsettling way. He began to tremble, and chuckled quietly to himself.
Soul Edge. There was no doubt in his mind. There was no other weapon reputed to be able to cause such devastation. He had been tracking the rumors of sightings of the blade to Egypt, where his search had culminated in this temple. There was no other answer – the weapon used in this rampage could ONLY have been Soul Edge.
A weapon this powerful...it would be more valuable than all the riches in the world. Soul Edge...this weapon, this power! Such power could stop any attack, defend against any enemy, and save whatever live it was tasked with protecting.
Strength. Force. Power. As much of it as possible. This was the only thing that Yun-seong sought.
And Soul Edge was the only thing that would provide it.
--
Nightmare's proxy vessel served him adequately, but it could not match the performance of a true host body. While it would be possible to acquire a new host with little effort, Nightmare would settle only for the best. He was far too accustomed to Siegfried's form to settle for anything else; he detested spending months adapting to a new host body before he was able to use it effectively. Siegfried was still alive, and thus he was still fit to be a host. Nightmare intended to take that man's body once more...but the will of Soul Edge wasn't so foolish as to rely on a single course of action.
With time to spare as they headed west along the continent, Nightmare gave Tira a new instruction: to find another suitable host body for him as a contingency vessel. Specifically, Nightmare requested a soul already tainted by evil energy, so that he could acclimatize easily to the body. Nightmare made no preference for gender or age, but told his slave to find someone both corrupted by evil and unaware of it, so that the host would be easier to manipulate. Most ideally, he wanted his slave to find someone naïve, young, strong...exactly as Siegfried had once been.
Tira felt a deep sinking feeling in her chest at the thought.
She hid it well, instinctively putting on a smirk, suppressing thoughts of Siegfried, memories of happier days. She betrayed no emotion to Nightmare, and no hesitation to carry out his will, even when he'd ordered her to do herself harm as proof of loyalty. However, whenever her thoughts drifted back to Siegfried, feelings of weight and burden struck her – as though she was still indebted to him. She had spent too much time in his service to discard all attachment to him completely. Nightmare's aesthetic similarities to Siegfried were a constant reminder of the man she had once served. Aside from brief glimpses of dark skin, she had no clue what he looked like beneath the helmet and armor, but his silhouette reminded her – sometimes painfully – of her former Master.
While away from Nightmare, she found it easier to concentrate on other matters. As she scoured further west to find a new host, she tried to recall all those she'd encountered. Raphael, Cervantes, and Astaroth had all been strong souls, and all had some form of evil energy corrupting them. Each was now dead, and Tira could not recall anyone else with the same background.
Whenever she could, Tira would choose to travel through forests – not to avoid leaving a trail, but merely because she traversed tree branches far more quickly than soil. Either way, Tira had not expected to be followed, and have been completely unaware of her pursuer were it not for several giveaways. Although she could easily perceive the shadows around her altering and distorting in unnatural ways, she heard no breaths, no heartbeat, and could smell no odors...and it was these very traits that revealed the identity of the one trailing her.
Tira whirled around, ringblade in hand, only to find the curved blade of a scythe held to her neck.
"I see you have not forgotten me." Zasalamel noted. "And – unlike your cohorts – you do not impart any unnecessary words before getting to business."
Tira glared at him as she tried to conceive of some way to escape from her predicament. Given the relative difference in their sizes, she could probably escape if she allowed herself to drop and give way to gravity, but that'd leave her vulnerable for at least half a second...and this man had demonstrated he would not be caught off guard. So, she opted to speak with him, and try to come up with a better plan in the meantime. "What do you want?" She barked tersely. Eloquence and manners were to be reserved only for her Master.
"Heed these words, Slave..." Zasalamel began. "You may not boast the strength of Schtauffen nor the knowledge of Valentine, but your thirst for blood and your instability have made you a more than ideal host for Soul Edge yourself."
"...What are you talking about?" Tira demanded.
"Isn't it obvious? You are on a fool's errand." Zasalamel answered. "You are the host Soul Edge intends to use as a replacement; it merely wants you to acquire an acolyte to use in your stead."
"Why should I believe what you say?" Tira demanded. "When have you ever spoken the truth?"
"There is no one single truth; truth is as objective as anything else." Zasalamel replied. "People decide what is fact and what is fiction based on what 'truth' suits them best."
Tira did not wish to bother with Zasalamel's riddles. If he wanted to kill her, he would have done so by now. If he had reason to fear her, he would have disarmed her or distanced himself. Knowing that she could not harm him, and that he would not harm her, she slashed her ringblade at him in irritation. As expected, Zasalamel easily caught the attack, holding either side of the steel between two fingertips.
"You attempt to strike me down, but are you even aware of what would happen if you killed me?"
Tira did not answer.
"I would merely return, exactly as powerful and twice as prudent." Zasalamel continued.
"An empty threat. No one can return from death." Tira sneered.
"There is a way," Zasalamel began, "and centuries ago, I found it. This form you see is one of dozens I have possessed over the countless ages I have lived through."
"...Immortal?" Tira whispered.
"Do not envy me. The joy of living has long since subsided, and the pain of death increases tenfold every time my body expires. I am finished with life; I am ready for death...yet I cannot die by steel, nor flames, nor any of the countless methods that I have attempted. ...There is only one possibility, one option I have not pursued. It requires the Soul Embrace."
"...So that is why you seek it..."
"If you are willing to listen," Zasalamel said, drawing back and lowering his scythe, "I can direct you to not one, but two hosts to suit your Master's purposes."
"Why should I believe that you'd help me?" Tira asked.
"If the two swords clash in battle, then the energy released may be enough to shatter my curse. Nightmare must live for Soul Edge and Soul Calibur to clash...by assisting your Master's goals, I further my own. Should you end my life, I will only return and end yours. Should you still your blade, I will find death through the clash of the two swords, and trouble neither you nor whomever holds your leash."
Tira wished for nothing more than to see her ringblade carve a gash into this man's unwaveringly confidence face, but she knew it could do her no good. Her best option was to cooperate.
"...Who are these two hosts you speak of?" Tira asked grudgingly.
"Pyrrha, Patroklos." Zasalamel answered. "Children born to Sophitia Alexandra in Athens, each sharing her blood, blood that was tainted by a conflict with Soul Edge. They are young, defenseless, and entirely unaware of their intrinsic connection to the blade. They are ideal for the task you have in mind."
Tira recalled meeting the children, and how they'd been terrified of her, and Ivy and Siegfried...yet they'd warmed quickly, and might very well have started to trust her, even if her comrades had taken their mother away...
Zasalamel began to disappear, his form turning to shadow.
"Remember not to eat them." He said before he vanished from sight.
Tira swung her ringblade at the air he had occupied in irritation. His confidence was so infuriating, and he hadn't stopped talking down to her even once throughout their entire exchange. Of course, he had little reason to stop, given how powerful he was compared to her.
She hated playing into this man's hands, but she was through questioning and second-guessing his every word. The advice he had given her seemed as though it would serve her master perfectly. Instead of retrieving the Soul Embrace, she would capture Sophitia's two children. Perhaps she could even use the brats as bait to lure the others into a trap and snatch the Embrace right from their grasp...
...Tira felt a small pang of guilt in her heart as she considered betraying her former friends and allies, but she had faced these feelings before and would not allow them to stop her now. She'd already acted, already made her decision; she could not turn around, could not reverse her actions. Her only option was to move forward.
Zasalamel watched as the blue haired girl followed his instructions and bounded further west, exactly as he'd anticipated. He curled his legs and sat comfortably more than two hundred feet above the ground, giving him a good view of the terrain that lay ahead for her. With so many trees, the girl would traverse quickly.
She was quick to anger, and even quicker to kill, perhaps because it was simpler than trying to comprehend another person's ideology. Zasalamel expected no shortage of philosophical diatribe from Nightmare and Siegfried once the two of them were finally reunited, and he hoped that one of them might just say the right words to set her off...the Slave might claim to serve a Master, but when a dog is hungry, its only loyalty is to itself.
--
The moment Spain declared the Philippines as part of its empire, Southeast Asia was thrust into an age of turmoil. The westerners introduced their new culture without giving any regard to the time-honored traditions of the region. The foreigners stayed near the shoreline at first, but it was only a matter of time before their influence reached all the way to the center of the land.
As if they felt the need to hide from the encroaching footsteps of the foreigners, a tribe of native people secluded themselves in a small village nestled deep within the mountain valleys of the region. This tribe honored a deity of wind, and lived as one with nature. The priests of this religion descended from a single bloodline of shamans.
The tribe was aware that western influences were causing their neighbors to adopt a new religion, and lose faith in the deities of old. In resigned admission that their faith would not survive through another generation, the shaman family of the tribe raised their daughter to be the Last Priestess of the Wind. Her name was Talim.
From birth, Talim was raised to serve her community in many ways. She was trained to be a healer of the mind and body, a keeper of wisdom, a philosopher; a woman who provided stability to her community in any way necessary. Her deep spirituality gave her access to realms beyond the physical and states of consciousness unknown to most people. Even as a young child, she was wise and mature beyond her years, respected as a person of authority, considered a miracle-worker by her community.
Talim's spiritual connection to the wind allowed her to observe a great number of things that others could not. In the wind, she could hear soft whispers of faraway lands, gentle murmurs of distant cities. Talim heard voices on the wind with enough clarity to perceive actions and events halfway across the world.
From the time that she was a young child, Talim read the winds often - and so, the day that something changed in the wind, Talim recognized it immediately. On this day, Talim felt as though the winds were tainted - contaminated, stained, dirtied and polluted - by something dark and evil. Talim heard screams on the wind, cries of hopelessness and madness and chaos.
The evil aura surged into Talim with such intensity that she was overwhelmed physically and mentally. She collapsed and lost consciousness for several days. The people of her village were on the verge of losing all hope when she finally awoke. Talim's eyes were filled with deep sorrow, and she cried without knowing why.
By Talim's fifteenth year, it was common to see western merchants and explorers in her once secluded village. One day, a westerner brought a "vitality charm" to the village. The elders expressed concern when they saw the object, a peculiar shard of metal. They sensed that it did not belong in their village, that it belonged somewhere else. They also felt that its presence would have an evil influence on those who came near it.
Talim immediately recognized the evil in the piece of metal; it was the same malevolent energy that she felt on the day she collapsed. She wanted the fragment to be removed from her village...but more than that, she felt compelled to see that the fragment was returned to the place whence it came, where it belonged. She felt as though it was a sin for this shard of metal to be removed from whatever abominable place it had originated from.
"I must return this shard to its rightful place." Talim declared.
The elders tried to prevent Talim from leaving the village with the piece of metal. They feared that the purity of the Last Priestess would be tainted if she were exposed to the outside world. Her parents disagreed. On the contrary, they felt that by experiencing the world, Talim's purity and love for nature would grow. With her parents' blessing, the young priestess left on her journey.
As her village slowly disappeared behind the mountain range, Talim sensed the resonance of the same evil aura from other parts of the world. She could feel it in the winds that traveled across the seas and continents, circulating throughout the world. She knew that everything would eventually be consumed by this energy if the evil force continued to spread with the wind.
Talim concluded that there were more of these metal fragments. And like the one she possessed, unwitting people carried the pieces to all corners of the world. Talim knew she had to find all of the fragments and seek their rightful place.
Although Talim had never set foot outside of her village before, she felt no fear and no uncertainty. No matter how long the journey, she knew she would be fine as long as she could feel the wind.
Talim followed the aura of the evil fragments scattered throughout the world. She eventually collected several of the fragments, and learned that the source of the malevolent energy was a sword called Soul Edge.
After traveling for quite some time, allowing the whispers of the wind to guide her, Talim sensed another source of evil energy, and chose to investigate it. Her journey brought her to a mountain range with a steep ravine running through its center. A river ran through the valley, and giant watermills lined the sides of the river. These majestic waterwheels were unlike anything Talim had ever seen before, and apparently served a number of purposes – they pumped water to irrigate fields, passed water through an aqueduct facility to the other side of the mountains, and most importantly, caught the flowing torrent of clean water to aid those who lived in the harsh, mountainous terrain.
This human ingenuity of borrowing the power of nature to improve life captured Talim's heart. She had previously believed machines and nature to be opposing forces, two opposite extremes. When she visited this place and saw this perfect harmony between mankind and the environment, she began to feel hope that the new ways were not to be feared after all. She was also intrigued that water, a different type of power from that of the wind she worshipped, also flowed throughout the entire world to give life to its inhabitants.
And yet, all was not well within this paradise – she had only arrived in this land in search of a malevolent force she detected residing here. Seeking out the evil aura that she sensed, she eventually arrived at a small watermill where a group of orphaned children lived.
Upon learning that one of the children was ill, Talim approached the boy. The area around him was filled with waves of evil. Talim realized that the boy himself was giving off the evil aura. Talim asked the boy his name. The boy coughed and said in a voice that seemed quieter than a whisper: "Ashur." Talim asked what had happened to him to cause his affliction. The boy refused to answer. Talim could not bring herself to leave him, so she stayed by the boy's side and attempted to discover the nature of his condition. She was determined to cure the suffering lad before she continued her journey.
The stain of evil on a land is impossible to overlook, and it is only to be expected that this boy's cursed aura would attract the attention of more travelers than merely Talim in the coming days...
--
The breathtaking view of the watermill valley was astonishing to all who beheld it, but Siegfried and his companions did not allow the beauty of the ravine to distract them from the reason they had come to this valley. They knew that it was a risk to advance toward a concentration of evil energy, but after their experiences, not a single member of the group felt that it would be wise to ignore a possible threat.
They could sense the epicenter of the evil aura residing within a single watermill adjacent to a village nestled beside the river – but also sensed pure, holy energy fighting the evil. Curious, yet suspicious as well, the group cautiously made their way toward the watermill. They assessed the level of danger they potentially faced, steeled themselves for possible combat, and warily advanced toward the building, when the door suddenly creaked open, revealing a short, dark-haired, tan-skinned girl of foreign appearance and attire. She wore light blue garments adorned with long red strips – a style that was unfamiliar to the others, but resembled holy clothing to be worn at rituals. She was the sweetest, cutest, most harmless little thing, until one noticed the tonfa blades hanging from her hips.
Just as the group prepared themselves for the worst, the girl spoke. "Oh! Travelers! Could you please help me? There's a boy in here who's sick and needs help!"
She couldn't have disarmed them more effectively even if she had sliced off their limbs. The look of genuine worry that marred her smooth face, a tone of voice that couldn't have possibly been more sincere if she'd tried, and the innocence required to ask a band of armed strangers for help won over the group's trust rather quickly.
"...Um...of course." Siegfried said, allowing his arms to fall away from the hilt of his Zweihänder. "What's the problem?"
"I don't know. He won't tell me, and I haven't been able to figure it out myself. He's cursed, or afflicted by evil – something unnatural and impure. Will you come in and take a look?"
The group could already tell that the matter concerned Soul Edge. They followed the young girl into the watermill, and were greeted by a dozen young faces, all looking up at them with a mixture of reverence, inquisitiveness, and fear.
"Orphans?" Sophitia asked.
The girl in holy garments nodded. "I'm not one of them – I came across this place a few days ago. My name is Talim, and I'm here on a journey – but all of that can wait."
Talim showed the group to the boy, Ashur. Every symptom he displayed, from the sickly color of his eyes and skin to the nearly visible aura of darkness surrounding him, was indicative of Soul Edge's influence.
"What were you up to, boy?" Ivy asked. "Did you tamper in affairs not meant for children?"
"Please don't be harsh with him..." Talim pleaded. "The other children say he's a good boy. They all look up to him. I'm certain that what plagues him is no fault of his."
"What happened to you?" Cassandra asked.
The boy shook his head, slowly, wearily, painfully.
"I've spent the past several days trying to pry the information out of him." Talim said. "He won't say a word."
"We can't help you if you don't help us." Setsuka said, patiently but sternly. "Please tell us what happened to you so we can make you healthy again."
The boy shook his head again, this time with more conviction.
Seung Mi-na nudged Taki. "Can you tell what's wrong with him?"
"It could be any number of things." The ninja said. "I'd need to examine him closely. He could have spent too much time near a person or place that was corrupted, like Amy. Or perhaps there are shards in his body."
"Shards...?" Talim asked. She scurried to one side of the room, dug around in a satchel, and held out several metal fragments. "Are these what you speak of?"
The group tensed up, knowing that they would need to convince the girl to bequeath the shards of Soul Edge that she now held. "Those are dangerous!" Ivy snapped. "Give them to us!"
The small girl drew back and clutched the shards close.
"We are on a mission to destroy the source of those shards." Siegfried clarified. "They come from a weapon known as Soul Edge, which serves no purpose but to consume human life on a massive scale, and corrupt those whom it does not kill. Those shards can do no good, and can only cause harm. We have a way to purify those shards. If you hand them over, we can dispose of them."
Talim seemed unwilling to hand over the shards so quickly.
"...How do I know you're telling the truth?" She asked, suddenly not as innocent as naive as she once appeared to be.
"Amy, come forth."
Talim had to lean to the side to see the waifish redheaded girl that was hiding behind Setsuka. She peeked out from her kimono-clad sanctuary, and Talim saw a necklace of crystalline shards dangling from her neck.
"Hello! I didn't notice you before." Talim said. "What's your name?"
Amy slipped behind Setsuka, who nudged her out of hiding once more.
"This girl is Amy." Siegfried said. "She suffers an affliction caused by Soul Edge. Her condition is remarkably similar to this boy's, but is not as severe. We were able to curb the effects by adorning her with these shards – purified shards of Soul Edge."
"Oh! So then – could we cure Ashur the same way?" Talim asked.
"...We do not know how to cure the contamination of Soul Edge, only how to limit the aura it emits. It took every shard in our possession to restrain Amy's dark aura. This boy's condition seems...too severe to treat the same way."
Ashur's sunken face seemed to cave in just a little bit more. Talim look discouraged, as well.
"What can we do, then?" Talim asked.
"If we knew how to cure this condition, we'd have cured Amy long ago, wouldn't we?" Ivy said with exasperation.
"...So...we can't help him...?..." Talim asked timidly.
"Give up on lost causes, or you'll waste your life trying to obtain the unobtainable." Ivy said curtly.
Emotion flashed in Talim's eyes, but she said nothing. The room was silent for a few long moments, and then Talim spoke. "I won't give up on this boy. I'll stay here and try to heal him until I succeed."
"Siegfried." Taki said. "We should contribute to this girl's efforts in order to see if there is a way to diminish the effects of Soul Edge. If we can make no progress, we should depart."
Siegfried nodded in agreement.
"What happens to the boy if we can't help him?" Sophitia asked.
"We kill him." Ivy said bluntly. "Or did you want to adopt yet another sickly orphan into our colorful alliance of bliss and happiness?"
"KILL him? Why?! How can you be so heartless?" Cassandra snapped.
"If he lives, the influence of Soul Edge may contaminate his mind and drive him to become our enemy." Ivy said. "If not, then he'll simply continue to exist in this state of suffering and perpetual torture. If Soul Edge's curse ravages his body until he dies, then he'll die in agony. Wouldn't you rather kill him before he becomes our enemy, or perishes in unimaginable suffering?"
The group was silent, in awe of Ivy's lack of tactfulness, and also resentful of how every word she spoke was painfully true.
"I'd rather kill him than see him transform into an abomination like myself or Siegfried." Ivy concluded unnecessarily.
Talim finally spoke up. "No – NO killing!" She said. "We can save him! I know it! I can feel it!"
"You know nothing of Soul Edge, girl." Ivy said, continuing to show no mercy. "Many of us have battled it for the better part of our lives; you've only just been introduced to it. You can't say who we can and can't save."
"...We cannot say that for sure, either." Taki said. "Our own knowledge of Soul Edge is incomplete, and we are continuing to learn more about the abomination all the time. This journey is perilous; there is no reason not to spend some time and effort attempting to find a way to diminish Soul Edge's influence."
The group sided with Taki. It was decided that they would remain in the watermill village for a few days and assist Talim in attempting to find a way to weaken the effects of Soul Edge on Ashur and Amy.
And still the watermill village had not yet seen the last traveler who would soon be entering its confines...
--
Yun-seong removed his finger from his nose, examined the dark yellow crust on the tip of his fingernail, and then flicked it into the river that he was walking beside. He looked up at the row of watermills lining that river, scoffed to himself as he thought of all the time wasted building those constructs when it would have been easier to just move to a place that was well-irrigated, and then turned his attention toward the particular watermill the he sensed evil energy emanating from.
He had come to this land after hearing a story of a fortress city overlooking a river that had warred with neighboring nations over a fragment of Soul Edge. The fortress city had eventually been destroyed, but survivors of the war were living in a village up the river. After tracing the riverbank and its line of giant waterwheels, he'd finally found the village he sought – and it appeared that he was still hot on Soul Edge's trail.
He knocked loudly on the door of the watermill, and as the door opened, he was greeted by the face of Seong Mi-na.
Time seemed to grind to a halt. The world around them seemed to disappear. It was too surreal to be possible, yet both of them knew they were not dreaming. A coincidence of legendary proportions – or perhaps it was more surprising that it had taken so long for the two of them to finally cross paths, when their journeys both revolved around the same object.
All at once time began to flow again and the world came back to life. They exclaimed one another's names and embraced each other simultaneously. They laughed long and hard without entirely knowing why, and when the shock had finally worn off, they were able to function normally.
At least, that is what might have happened if the two had not parted on bad terms.
"YOU!" Mi-na exclaimed angrily, reaching for her weapon beside the door and swinging it at Yun-seong's head. He dropped to the ground, a reflex action born from countless sparring matches against an all too predictable Mi-na, swung his leg to knock Mi-na off her feet, turned, and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Mi-na, of course, jumped above his sweeping kick, a reflex action born from countless sparring matches against an all too predictable Yun-seong, and then gave chase without missing a beat.
The two chased one another for quite a distance until Yun-seong reached a dead end at a wooden platform overlooking the river. Turning around to see hell in a red-and-green dress running toward him, and then looking down to see the river below him, he held his breath and jumped. Mi-na ran to the edge of the platform and looked down, only to discover that Yun-seong was hanging off the edge by his fingertips. After taking a moment to use his vantage point to enjoy the view of Mi-na's panties and give an approving wink and thumbs-up, he reached up, grabbed her ankle, and yanked hard to pull her into the river below. Of course, as Mi-na tumbled downward, she in turn grabbed his ankle, and both of them took the fall.
They landed in the water a scant few feet below, and while using one hand to grip the other and the other hand to clash weapons, they engaged in a very soggy battle for quite a ways down the river, until they began to hear the roar of crashing water, and then paddled desperately for shore, which they reached only seconds before it would have been too late to avoid a fatal trip over the side of a waterfall.
They both sprawled out on the shore, dripping wet and panting heavily from their chase and fight, and spent several minutes wheezing loudly as they caught their breath and spat out the water they'd swallowed. After they had recovered from their exhaustion and turned to face one another, that was when time froze, unfroze, they screamed one another's name, embraced, and laughed for what seemed to be an eternity.
When they had recovered from their fit of hysteria, they spoke to one another about the exotic lands they had traveled across, the phenomenal things they had seen, and the accomplishments they had achieved. They purposefully avoided mentioning their objectives. They knew that the moment the issue of Soul Edge arose, their conflicting beliefs would dig a deep rift between them. They lost track of how much time they spent lying on the shore of the river beside the waterfall, discussing the past year, but finally returned to reality in the end.
"Why are you here?" Yun-seong asked.
"There's a sick child in this village. My traveling companions and I are trying to help him recover."
"Wow." Yun-seong remarked. "You're such a big softie. Don't you ever think of yourself? You're gonna break your back and put wrinkles on that pretty face of yours if you spend all your time worrying about others." Mi-na smiled, knowing that this was Yun-seong's away of complimenting her compassion.
"And why are you here?" She asked.
Yun-seong smirked and looked away. It wasn't possible to dodge the issue anymore. Mi-na leaned towards him and urged him to respond with a serious look.
"...You know why I'm here." He said, with a guilty grin.
The temporary ban on mention of the sword was lifted, and their conversation took on a much more solemn tone. Mi-na scolded Yun-seong, and lectured him about the evils of Soul Edge. She told him everything she had seen the sword cause and create during her journey, and told him how much it had caused others to suffer.
"Soul Edge has driven all of its wielders mad, and has harvested the souls of all whom have ever gone near it! The sword is a destroyer of lives, and a destroyer of nations! There's no way that thing will save our country!" Mi-na admonished, her face red with passion. It had been some time since Yun-seong had been subjected to Mi-na's scolding, and while he listened to her lengthy speech about the dangers of Soul Edge without voicing dissent, his face clearly showed that he felt otherwise.
Frustrated with him, Mi-na eventually got up and walked away from Yun-seong to stew in anger. All the same, Mi-na could tell that Yun-seong's journey had matured him. The old Yun-seong would have argued feverishly with her, but the new Yun-seong chose to be silent instead of quarreling despite his opposing opinions. Yun-seong was indeed wiser, but his core beliefs were nonetheless the same.
She was furious at him for being so stubborn, but she could not bring herself to hate him. She had grown up with Yun-seong; he was like a younger brother to her. She had to watch him, so that she could be at his side and help him make the right choices – and stop him from making the wrong ones.
She turned around to face him and make up after their one-sided fight, and saw him adjusting his pants and belt as he walked away from the riverside.
Mi-na blinked several times. "...You...were you just..."
Yun-seong nodded sheepishly. "Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go."
"YUN-SEONG! People DRINK that water! Don't EVER do that again!"
"The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do!" Yun-seong said with a massive grin on his face as he made his way toward the village.
--
Seong Mi-na introduced Yun-seong to her companions. His unique personality and fun-loving attitude made him quick friends with Cassandra and Setsuka, but the others were somewhat wary of him. Mi-na had spoken of Yun-seong during their travels, and the group was well aware that Yun-seong sought the very sword they had in their possession. The group approached Mi-na and asked her what to do about Yun-seong's mission. She told them that she had tried her best to persuade him, and that her efforts were all in vain. The other members of the group decided not to confront Yun-seong about the matter unless it was necessary – he seemed too stubborn to change his mind no matter how many of them gave him all the reasons why his quest was flawed and futile.
Yun-seong, despite being hotheaded and childish, was perceptive. He noticed that the others had something to hide, and noticed that the sick boy named Ashur seemed to react strangely every time someone mentioned the words "Soul Edge." While the other children quickly grew fond of Yun-seong because of his nature, Ashur alone was cold toward him.
"He knows something..." Yun-seong mused to himself. He decided to wait for an opportunity to question the boy.
Meanwhile, Talim's efforts to cure Ashur had borne no fruit. Every member of the group had suggested and tried every method they could conceive of, and Taki had exhausted every purification technique she possessed, yet the boy only seemed to get sicker with every day that passed.
Even worse, Talim's health appeared to be suffering, as well. The others had learned that this girl was apparently a shaman priestess of respectable ability. Raised to be a religious leader and taught spiritual arts of healing, Talim was far more than she appeared to be. When asked to display her powers, she demonstrated control over the wind and performed healing arts without use of any supplies. The girl was certainly not some misguided, naive, inexperienced youth; she was a genuine miracle worker, and her healing abilities surely could have healed any affliction lesser than one of Soul Edge.
However, after a few days passed, Talim reported disturbing news. She was losing her powers – her abilities became weaker the more she used them, and the wind did not respond to her as it once had. The group was quick to decide the cause of this phenomenon – the influence of Soul Edge was afflicting Talim, corrupting the purity that gave her the power to perform her miracles. If she continued to nurse Ashur, she could eventually fall prey to the same ailment.
Upon hearing this, Talim was disheartened, but refused to give up on the boy. "I simply have to try harder, then." She said bravely, without even one ounce of doubt in her eyes or voice.
Several more days passed, and Ashur's symptoms gradually worsened. Discussing the matter amongst themselves, the group decided that it was time for Talim to stop caring for the boy. However, Talim begged them for one last chance; she had conceived of something new.
Talim came up with the idea of passing the evil energy inhabiting Ashur through her own body and out into the wind currents flowing through the sky. It was an extreme, drastic measure, but all other plans had failed, and she could find no other alternative. The group agreed to allow Talim one final chance to heal Ashur.
Talim began the treatment. Several hours passed with no sign of progress...but finally, after spending a quarter of a day at the treatment, Talim's plan finally began to show a sign of success. Little by little, at an achingly slow pace, evil energy was escaping Ashur's body. The energy that left him did nothing more than to drift harmlessly toward the atmosphere, where the winds of the ravine purified it at Talim's request.
However, an unforeseen side effect of Talim's treatment quickly made itself apparent. The impure, evil energy that passed through Talim's body was slowly piling up like sediment, building up inside of her, and eating away her purity as a priestess. Slowly, Talim felt the voices of the wind growing weaker and weaker – not only were her powers fading, but she was also losing her bond with the wind.
The gradual loss of her most treasured ability caused Talim immense suffering. She would have sacrificed a limb before her link with the wind. She was losing something that had always been with her, something more important than words could express.
Tragically, Talim's sacrifice appeared to be in vain. Despite the fact that the evil energy was being forced out of the boy's body, Ashur's symptoms rapidly worsened. It became apparent that he would not last another few days before his death.
"Talim, it's time to stop." Siegfried urged.
"No!" Talim said. "I have to save him! I promised him I would!"
"You don't have to feel guilty, Talim." Sophitia said. "You did your best. You've done a commendable job. There are people twice your age who could never stand to endure the stress that you've been under. You've done more for this boy than anyone else in the world could have done...but it's time to stop. You're only hurting yourself."
Talim shook her head passionately. "I don't want him to die!"
"Everyone has to die sometime." Ivy said. "There are people dying all over the planet right now. Think of all the lives you COULD have saved if you hadn't been trying to save a lost cause who was doomed before you ever – "
"No." Talim said defiantly and boldly, the first sign of impudence she had ever shown. "I won't give up...not after coming this far. Then everything so far will have been a waste."
"You're only going to waste even more of your effort and lose more of your power if you keep this up." Cassandra said. "I really hate to admit it, but I think we've done all we can for him."
Talim's eyes narrowed, her face scrunched in a sneer of fury, and she bared her teeth. "...Soul Edge." She hissed spitefully.
It was the first time anyone had heard the girl under the influence of such powerful negative emotion. Her two words had dripped with such hatred, such abhorrence, such utter disgust and revulsion that, for a split second in which the kindhearted and innocent girl disappeared and was replaced by a girl seething with loathing and anger, everyone in the room became afraid of Talim for the first time.
"This is what it does to people...those who it does not harm directly, it harms indirectly..." Setsuka observed.
"The child is suffering greatly, and his end is near. It is only right allow him to die with dignity." Taki said.
"...So, we're going to...kill him, now?" Seong Mi-na asked.
Dead silence.
"Hey, has anyone even asked the kid what HE wants?" Yun-seong asked in a loud, piercing voice that only he could speak with.
All eyes were on the boy, his face pale and his hair matted with sweat.
"It hurts." He whispered. "It hurts too much."
Not a single sound. Not a single breath.
"...Not my body. The burden...that I'm placing on you all. ...I just want it...to end."
The room was quiet for an eternity, and then Talim rose to her feet.
"I've been doing it wrong." She said. "This entire time...I should have been doing it differently."
She briskly walked from the room, not bothering to clarify her vague statement. The others, concerned for her well-being, went after her. She was too emotionally unstable to be left unsupervised.
Yun-seong, however, stayed behind. He stared at the boy in silence. Several minutes passed as the two silently stared at one another.
"...What is it that you seek, traveler from the East?" Ashur finally said, suddenly speaking under far less labor than before.
"I seek power." Yun-seong said simply and honesty.
"Why?" Ashur asked.
"Because power can save lives." Yun-seong replied.
Ashur gathered his strength before responding. "True. Power can be used to save lives...but evil power can only take lives. Evil power saves nothing, and no one. You won't be able to save anybody by wielding power which comes from an evil source."
"Power is power! It's how you use it that counts, not what type of power it is!" Yun-seong said passionately. He would never back down from his beliefs, especially not to some sick kid.
"...So, then...you seek the sword? Soul Edge? For its power?" Ashur asked.
"Yes! I will claim Soul Edge and use it to protect my country!" Yun-seong said loudly and proudly.
The boy shook his head sadly. "...Have a seat. I want to tell you a story."
It took a long time for Ashur to tell Yun-seong the story. Although Ashur had pretended to be under far more strain than he actually was, he was still under immense stress and it pained him to speak. However, he was passionate enough about the subject of this story to convey the entire narrative even in his condition.
Ashur told Yun-seong the story of the fortress city that had been destroyed in the recent war. The war, just as the rumors said, was all part of an elaborate scheme by the lord of the city to obtain a fragment of Soul Edge. After the lord had finally obtained the fragment, he was corrupted by its evil influence. In search of a way to control others using the fragment, he begun to conduct terrible experiments on prisoners of war, using the fragment to do terrible things to their bodies. When he ran out of prisoners, he captured orphans to use as his test subjects. He eventually used his own son in his experiments.
The lord of the city eventually went mad and began an indiscriminate slaughter. Aware of the fortress city's activities, the neighboring countries attacked. Everything came to an end when the lord was finally killed.
"How did the lord die?" Yun-seong asked.
There was terrible sadness in Ashur's eyes. "His son. His son killed him. He knew that his father was no longer the man he used to be. He did not want to see his father cause any more harm."
"...So...I guess you were one of the orphans used in the experiments?"
"...I was used as a test subject, yes. The other kids here with me were also going to be used in the experiments. I'm glad I was able to rescue them. I just wish..." The boy clenched his fists tightly and turned away.
Yun-seong stood up wordlessly, drew his sword, and placed the hilt in the boy's hand.
"This sword...I got this sword from Mi-na. It's a treasure passed down through her family. It is said that the blade is enchanted; it's a mirror that shows what lies in the depths of the heart of the one who holds it."
The boy gazed at his own reflection in the blade. The longer her looked into the blade, the more he seemed to be at ease - relieved, as though he had found inner peace.
"Don't give up before the end, kid. Fight until your last breath. Don't be a quitter."
Ashur nodded.
"By the way...don't feel bad about what you did. You made the right decision."
Yun-seong took his sword from the boy's hand, and began to leave the room.
Before he left, he heard a voice barely above a whisper say, "Thank you."