Ch2

The Familiar Darkness

The man was motionless, cradling in knees in his arms, floating in the endless darkness. He dreamed peacefully, completely unaware of the world around him. His dreams took him back to a comfortable place. A church, a meadow, a tree . . . simple, yet everything he wanted was there.

He saw a few people, whose faces had been obliterated from his memory. He could hear them talking and laughing, but he could not make anything out.

One of the characters in his dream was a young blonde boy. He was running around, playing, laughing . . . but the man still could not see his face or place a name to that child. Soon, the dream started to fade, marking the end of one fantasy and the beginning of a nightmare.

He saw flames than nothing. He heard nothing, felt nothing. He felt a gnawing emptiness in his gut and terror took hold of his body.

He snapped awake, terrified of the twist his dream took. He looked down at himself – he could make out that his arm sleeves were red and it covered a mostly black outfit. He shivered, remembering the cold air as it hit his back.

He rolled on his back and stretched his body out, feeling the tension in his limbs release.

The man observed that he was still in his floating predicament, though the creature was nowhere to be seen. He did feel incredibly weak and his stomach growled. He was hungry, freezing, and weak.

He did not move this time, though. He watched the blanketed darkness circle ever so slowly above him and thought about his dream. He did not want to leave, though was damn curious who those people were. Maybe he made them up. Maybe he was alone in this abyss of a world.

He drifted along, ignoring the hunger pains and unforgiving wind. He exhaled deeply, seeing his breath somewhat. He felt his eyes getting heavy again and embraced it. He gently shut them and saw the place again. A small smile crept on his face and he slipped back into the dream world.

He dozed off for some time, replaying the same memory over and over again. The only one he could almost remember. He feared going too much forward, however; he wanted to know more, but was afraid of the dark turn that is seemed destined to follow. He wanted to keep the safe place alive, so he avoided going beyond that point. Maybe someday he would get bored with it, but for now, he was content.

He felt his back gently touch something beneath him, and his body collapsed along with it. He landed on what was prickly and wet. The wind picked up, but it was neither cold nor did it resemble dog breath. It was a morning breeze in late spring, where life had re-emerged and again braced itself for the heat of summer. It was warm and gentle; the morning light pierced his eyelids. He shielded himself with his arm and opened his eyes.

He was resting at the base of a tree – the leaves were in full bloom. His sight led him to a church right in front of him. Instead of spectating the dream, he finally found himself in it. He listened for a minute, trying to discern any voices or laughter in the distance, but did not hear anything aside from the gentle wind.

He debated investigating the area, but did not really want to move. He was okay with just resting at the tree.

'They'll come for me when they're ready,' He thought, 'they always do.'

Wait. Who were 'they' exactly? He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember. 'Will they come back for me?' He wondered, still unable to identify who he so desperately wanted to see.

#

A figure watched the man from a cautious distance. He did not detect the shadowy creature that lurked nearby. The shadow recognized the person and approached slowly, trying not to disturb him. It knelt beside the man, who currently was passed out again.

The figure tried to speak, but could not muster it. The enigmatic being could not figure out how to communicate with this person, or anyone else for that matter. It had been awake for a while now, though at first he could only recognize the feeling and energy put off by this person – now he could tell by sight. It was developing, though a lot of things still perplexed the shadow.

The figure laid down beside the man, looking up at the makeshift sky produced by the dream. How can one dream inside of a dream? The shadow guessed anything was possible, and watched the clouds drift overhead.

The figure felt happy in this peaceful little world. It started to hum a lullaby, something foreign and yet familiar.

#

The man was aroused from sleep from a gentle tune.

'Where is that coming from?' He opened his eyes and turned his head toward the sound. There was a mass – a figure shrouded in darkness. It looked like a shadow took on the mold of a human body.

He shot up and gasped at the sight.

"Who – what are you?!" He demanded. He was spooked by the apparition before him. The shadow disappeared and re-emerged a safe distance away from the man. Their eyes met – the man had two different colors, a red and a green eye.

The shadow had red eyes. In fact, the color filled the entire shape of the eyes. The figure, once looking humanoid, now appeared more beast than man.

"Beast?" Something clicked in the man's head, "Black . . . Beast?" The shadow did not move, only gazed back at the man. It was not threatening, at least, not as far as the man could tell.

"Ra . . ." The figure tried to speak in the human tongue, but found it difficult. The man did not move. His eyes were fixated and his body refused to move. He was frozen in place by fear and wonder.

". . .g'na . . ." The figure finished, though was tired out. A chill ran down the man's spine. Was this a spirit? A . . . ghost?

'God I really hope not,' He cringed a little. No wait, what was that about a 'Black Beast'? He cursed himself for not remembering the important details in a time where he might actually need it.

The shadow got a little irritated that the man did not respond. So he tried again in a ghastly voice, "Rag . . . na."

"Ragna?" The man repeated. The figure stood up, excited that he was making progress. The man, on the other hand, tensed in an instinct to defend himself.

"Ragna!" The shadow repeated, sounding now like a young child. The word was familiar.

"What's a . . . Ragna?" He asked, feeling foolish that he was conversing with this mass. The figure pointed back at him.

"Me?" He asked. It did sound accurate, the name felt like it did belong to him. He relaxed a little bit, starting to feel at ease around this shadowy figure, but still kept his guard up.

"Who are you?" Ragna asked, though the creature sat back down and paused.

"A. . . ure," The figure tried to reply, but still was not used to or entirely comfortable with the concept of speaking yet. The creature slunk down, his eyes narrowing as his frustration grew.

"Ah," Ragna started to say, "d-don't worry about it." He felt the negative energy coming from the shadow, though it still hardly felt menacing. More like a kid about to throw a temper-tantrum.

The figure relaxed, his eyes opened wide at Ragna's command.

"Ugh, so . . . is this a dream?" He asked aloud, though mostly to himself. The shadow was listening, however, and replied, "Dream."

"A dream, huh? How do I get out of the dream?"

"Wake."

"Gee, thanks," Ragna sighed, half wondering if the shadow gave him a smartass retort. The shadow tilted his head sideways, signifying a look of confusion. Perhaps not, then. The shadow started to approach again. Ragna tensed up in response.

It halted, sensing Ragna's apprehension. They made eye contact again.

"Wake . . . up," The shadow said.

"How?" Ragna looked around, "I'm still stuck here, wherever here is."

"For . . . ward," The creature managed, "Move."

"'Forward'," Ragna repeated, trying to decipher, "You want me to move forward?" He asked.

"Yes," The creature nodded, learning the human gestures.

"You mean, move forward with the dream. I really, reeaally don't want to do that," Ragna admitted, though he could not recall what was so horrible beyond this point.

"Memories. You're . . . scared," The shadow said, "I'm scared, too." It said, starting to get a handle on words.

"What are you scared of?" Ragna asked gently, though was kind of curious about what the shadow meant by 'memories'? Were they Ragna's memories or the shadow's? Both? The shadow did not reply. He moved toward the church and touched the outer wall.

Ragna got up and followed the shadow, "So what happened here? What is this place?"

"Home," The shadow replied.

". . .'Home' . . ." That was pretty accurate of the shadow, at least, that's what Ragna felt in his gut. But how did this shadow know so much?

"Fire," Was the shadow's next word. Ragna did not repeat the word this time, but felt a deep sense of loss and despair. He remembered his childhood home burning to the ground. And a shadow . . . a different kind of shadow. This was a menacing form.

Ragna held his face, the heartache from that particular chapter returning to him.

'It's gone. All of it. Everything important to me is taken by the flames.' He thought bitterly, though the voice belonged to a much younger boy.

"No more . . ." He said, "I don't want to go any further." The shadow appeared to sympathize with Ragna, but offered no verbal support.

The world dissolved around them and was replaced by the darkness once again. They were not floating, however, Ragna's feet stayed on the ground, though it was indistinguishable from the rest of the surroundings. He lost visual on the shadow, until a pair of bright red eyes set on him, sending another nerve-wrecking chill down his back.

"Oh MY GOD, that's freaking me the hell out!" He shouted at the shadow. The red eyes grew wider, then disappeared.

"Wait . . . Where'd you go!?" Ragna demanded.

"Eyes shut now," It replied.

"N-No, you don't have to do that . . . just . . . ugh," Ragna sighed, "Just don't sneak up on me, okay?"

"Okay!" The eyes reappeared, the voice very enthusiastic.

"At least one of us is having fun."

"Fun!" It chirped.

"Right . . . so . . . I'm still dreaming, right?"

"Dream, yes."

"Great. But this feels like it shouldn't be a dream. Are you positive?" Ragna asked the shadow.

"Hmm . . . dream . . . Yes."

"Oh, now that you're talking to me, I didn't catch your name. Do you even have a name?" Ragna asked.

"Name? Name . . . Azure."

"'Azure'?" He repeated, that word on the tip of his tongue. He heard that before, somewhere.

"Called Azure. But am . . . don't have a 'name'."

'Grimoire. Azure Grimoire.' Ragna thought, suddenly the pieces were starting to come together. The Azure Grimoire and the Black Beast. He felt uneasy about this, was he being followed by that creature? He glanced behind him. The figure was a little unnerving, but seemed harmless.

"Are you the Azure Grimoire?" Ragna asked point blank, trying to get as much information as possible.

"Grim . . . waar?" It repeated, "What is that?" The shadow was relatively ignorant, then. Perhaps it doesn't even know what power it could potentially hold. Well, Black Beast or not, Ragna would have to be careful not to anger it. Perhaps this mass of shadows – currently appearing as two glowing orbs – was very dangerous, but Ragna could not help but think of it as a child. It was very immature in its mannerisms.

"Ragna sudden quiet," The shadow observed, "Azure upset him?"

"No, you are fine. I'm just thinking," Ragna sighed. Ignorant it might be, but it was hellishly observant.

#

The shadow let Ragna think, hoping he would figure out his memory issue. The shadow also thought, trying to find a way to be useful. The shadow could see bits and pieces of Ragna's memory, but it was like a puzzle. He would see one memory but that memory would not link to another, so it was a scattered mess.

The shadow also had memories of its own. It remembered the day that he and Ragna met, though it was barely cognizant at that point and doubted that Ragna would remember it quite like the shadow did.

The shadow had a natural disdain for humans, though the reason was lost. It grew comfortable with Ragna, however, simply because it liked Ragna's energy. It was plenty dark and hot, but warm and compassionate at the same time. But something . . . happened. The shadow likewise had a memory problem.

"Oh come on," Ragna stopped, "I'm walking and walking and seeing nothing different! What is up with this pitch black hell?" He growled. The shadow giggled.

"Oh, so this is funny to you?" He turned around and eyed the shadow tagging along behind him.

"No. You're funny to me." Ragna's expression dropped, ". . . Nevermind," He sighed, "Can you just answer me this? Is there ANY point in me wandering around in this . . . whatever?"

"Oh!" The shadow just had an idea, "Think of a light." Ragna raised an eyebrow, "A light? Why?"

"Way finder." Ragna gave the shadow a confused look, then thought about what it said. 'Think about a light? What the hell is that going to do for me?'

'Wait, did it know the term "way finder"?' A sudden feeling rushed over him. This child like shadow reminded him of someone else. A certain person who was a good friend, but also a bit of a mooch.

"Good Guy!" A feline voice called out in his head, "Very, very hungry, meeeeeeowww! Will drop dead from excruciating huuungerrrrrrrrrr, meeeeeeowwwww . . . "A smirk appeared on his face, but he still could not picture a face or come up with a name.

"You're smiling!" The shadow said, "You must remember something?" It hoped for a positive reply.

"Sort of," He nodded, still attempting to visualize a face. Instead of that, however, a light flickered from behind. Ragna turned around and saw the space go from no light to a white room.

"Another memory?" He asked. The shadow hesitated, then said very seriously, "Wait." He felt disturbed by this sudden room.

"What?" Ragna asked, sensing the shadow's apprehension.

"This room is dangerous," It continued, ". . .Be careful."

"All right, don't worry about me," Ragna said, "I'll be fine. Besides, I need to move forward to wake up, right?"

". . .R-right . . ." The shadow sighed. Ragna was disturbed by its sudden shift in personality, but he did not worry about it too much. Instead, he focused his energy on this room.

The shadow could not get over this feeling of doom and dread. What was wrong with this room? It did not feel like a memory . . . though its structure was eerily similar to it. If it was not a memory . . . than what?

The shadow desperately searched for an answer, before it was too late to turn back. It was not a memory, so it had no tangible impact on Ragna's past. So it must be something from the future.

A prediction.

What kind of prediction? One of many possibilities.

'Wait a minute . . .' something was in the back of the shadow's mind. 'This is a possible outcome, but . . .'

"Ragna!" The shadow called, but it was too late. A warrior clad in white armor appeared in the room, issuing a challenge to Ragna.

"Get away from him, Ragna!" The shadow yelled, running in after him. He did not have his sword, so Ragna was basically defenseless. Even though this was a prediction, something that has yet to happen, the wounds inflicted here would still impact – and potentially kill Ragna's soul.

But why was there a prediction now? That was beyond their combine powers. Not that it really mattered.

The Azure Shadow changed its form, becoming a sword similar to that of Ragna's other blade. He made it in time for Ragna to respond and block.

"Turn back!" He heard the shadow's voice, "We should not be here!" Ragna jumped back and fled as the shadow requested.

"You can turn into a sword!?" Ragna asked, completely missing the other point.

"I guess I can!" The shadow – now a blade – answered, "But that occurrence. That should not have happened. It's . . . hard to explain, so just keep running and make sure you don't get hit by that guy!"

"Understood," Ragna upped his pace and made it to the edge of where that room began and where the shadowy abyss awaited them. The moment his foot stepped into the dark ground, the shadow said, "We should be safe here . . . but damn, that's weird. That should not have happened."

"What was that?" Ragna asked, looking at the room. The armored guy was gone, but the room still remained.

"A prediction. Something that hasn't happened yet, and perhaps would not. However, in your current state, you are much too vulnerable to be fighting anything."

"Since when were you able to talk in complete sentences?" Ragna asked, completely forgetting the point.

"No clue. Not the issue. Can we please focus?" The shadow sword asked snippily, "Because I don't think we can move forward until this room is cleared."

"All right, then. Hey, what do you mean by my 'current state'?"

"Well, since we are in a dream sequence, you are a spirit. A wandering soul. If you get hit, you'll take damage straight where you are most vulnerable, which will mean certain death. Maybe you can overpower it . . . maybe. But still, the risk needs to be evaluated before we jump back in there."

"A soul? Does that make me . . ."

"No, you're not a ghost. Not yet, anyway. You keep this up and we'll both be, though," The sword took on a very nagging tone all of a sudden.

"So, what do we do about our problem, then?" Ragna asked, dismissing the shadow. It evidently seemed to understand what was going on better than he did, and at least the shadow was invested in Ragna's survival.

"Actually, I think I might have an idea. You need to clear this, but the point of this is for you to 'observe it'. If I take your place, then you can still see without taking damage," The sword altered its shape and took on a mirrored form of Ragna's, "If I get hit by the masked guy, I won't be as badly hurt as you would be."

"Damn, that's effing creepy! How are you doing that? Never mind that, I can't let you take hits for me."

"Trust me, I'll be fine. I'm not as fragile as you," The shadow said in reassurance, but somehow ended up backhandedly insulting Ragna.

"I'm not fragile, either, you know."

"In this state, you might as well be glass," The shadow said again, although he did not mean it as harshly as it sounded. Part of it was the way he phrased it and the other half was because it sounded like Ragna's voice. He mirrored everything.

"You just need to see this. Whatever is ahead might be the key to unlocking your past."

"Tch, fine. Just be careful," Ragna resented the idea still, but he was afraid the shadow might be correct in its analysis. He watched from the outside as the shadow took his place in the upcoming battle.