"Darius. Darius Valte San Arquier." I answered quietly, the shuffling of chains and the screams of prisoners echoing throughout the halls.

"You're not a dood from these parts, are you, Mr. San Arquier?" The voice asked.

"No." I responded with a cough.

"Says here that you killed thirty Yevon soldiers, all of them elite veterans, in combat, dood." The voice continued, the shuffling of paper noticeable on his side.

"Actually, it was thirty-three. The other three didn't die until a week after, due to an incompetent healer." I smiled impetuously, and I grunted as a guard slapped me behind the head.

"I see…Mr. San Arquier, you've been locked up here for six months now. You've caused sixteen riots, killed three prisoners, and caused major damage to the structural supports of this prison, dood...and that's bad. Anyone else would've been executed in the most painful way possible the minute the conviction was decided…yet someone in the higher tiers of our government has some sort of liking for you. The most surprising part is that you have made bail. Someone somewhere scraped up over seven million gil that covered your cost and your pardon." With disgust, the voice continued, the word 'pardon' and 'bail' clearly distasteful for him.

"So…I'm free to go?" I asked with a smirk.

"Not so fast, smartass. When your 'guardian angel' shows up, THEN you get out of here, dood!" The voice screeched irritably.

"Do I get to meet my insatiably overbearing warden before I go?" I quipped again, and I had to fight back laughter.

A black Prinny jumped onto the rickety table, despite his peg legs, and struck a strange pose. He wore an army green military jacket, fatigues, and wore an eyepatch despite the fact he probably had use of that eye. Despite his gruff demeanor before, this excitable little bastard penguin started some monologue.

"I AM WARDEN GEORGE S. PRITTON, YOUR OVERLY STYLISH WARDEN AND BFF, DOOD! BASK IN MY AWESOMENESS!" He changed his pose several times while talking, a particular point of irritation on my part.

"George S. Pritton? That sounds too familiar…" I mumbled under my breath.

"Don't you just LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE my jacket? It's so STYLIIIIIIIIIIIISH! Right? RIGHT! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT?!" He slid over to me, continuing his ridiculous poses.

"Your jacket looks like you got it out of a swamp, you pompous moron. Can I go now?" I rolled my eyes.

"WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHAAAAA?!" His eyes were like dinner plates, and he was so shocked by my (true) statement he fell off the table.

As he was swearing and flipping out, a pair of guards showed up and took me away. I could tell that idiot didn't even notice.

"Goodbye, George S. Dumbass…" I snickered, taking one last look back at the interrogation room.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

At the guard's request (demand), I cleaned out my cell, and they promptly allowed me to dress in my original clothes and armor, giving me all of my gear back as well.

I wasn't surprised to see the familiar yellowish pointed hat as I walked out of Luca's prison.

The hat in particular belonged to a certain black mage, by the name of Verdel.

Her appearance was, if nothing, unusual. Wearing baggy pants that were striped blue and white, a blue trenchcoat with an especially bigger collar, a grey tunic that especially showed off her curves, black slightly-heeled boots, yellow-orange gloves, long and spiky blonde hair that lengthened almost to her waist, and a black and indescribable face that only showed two glowing yellow dots that were her 'eyes'. The outfit was set off by this especially big yellow hat that was curved and pointed at the end.

Verdel herself was waiting, leaning on her simple wooden staff that bore her hat.

"You're late." She greeted me with a silky voice, and I chuckled, slipping out a cigar.

"Sorry. The organization problems those idiots have are worse than I expected. They thought I was a mass-murderer, and that you bailed me out at seven million gil. Fucking chuckleheaded prinnies…thank you…" I slipped the cigar in my mouth, and I began walking with her as she lit my cigar with a flame kindled on her palm.

"No problem. I assume you got what we needed?" She continued, the sound of her staff tapping echoing throughout the docks.

"Yup. One of Miraak's Heartstones, just as I suspected. His influence is growing far more quickly than I originally expected." I nodded, slipping out a chunk of rock.

Shaped roughly like an orb, several cracks and crevice-like holes dotted the ends of the volcanic rock, crimson energy glowing brightly from those holes.

"Yes…reports of people going missing from towns, all of them building strange shrines to Miraak that contain these Heartstones, chanting his Mantra. Your nemesis has indeed returned." She answered, taking the stone from me.

"What of Willow? Where is she?" I asked suddenly, slipping out my map of Spira.

"She's fine. She's in Besaid, setting up a Ward. Assuming the Grimoire is correct, it will prevent this Necromancer and Miraak from causing as much trouble there, if at all. However, she is young and even at her powers…she's only at the journeyman level of training at best." Verdel responded, and tapped her staff three times.

A black portal opened up in front of us.

"Thought you were trying to not attract attention from the Necromancer by using your stronger spells." I commented.

"We don't have a choice. No ships are due for Besaid in the time we have, so we have to use the Ebonmere." She explained irritably, and led me through the portal. I followed tentatively, the particular feeling of darkness the Ebonmere had always disorientating and uncomfortably chilling. Hopefully it wasn't a long trip.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Thankfully, it was shorter than I even hoped.

When we arrived on the beach, I saw Willow kneeling in the sand.

Clutching her ankh-tipped golden staff, she was softly chanting.

A series of cyan-colored symbols were drawn in the sand through her abilities. I took a look at the sixteen-year old teenager casting these powerful wards, and found myself still amazed at her progress.

Willow was certainly an interesting girl. I found her when she was only six, an orphan wandering the streets of Bevelle. I worried that she would ever function properly, after the abuse and conditions she went through.

However, she had something I never expected: Potential. Potential in the White Magic Arts that I had never seen before. She was able to cast powerful spells with the slightest training, picking up my lessons with seemingly photographic memory. Soon I had nothing left to teach her.

But what shocked me the most was that she had the potential of becoming a Summoner. However, this normally shy and meek girl was adamant that she would never go on the Pilgrimage.

She would never serve Yevon, the religion she hated more than anything. The reason why was that her parents were killed because of Yevon's "teachings". However, she insisted on gaining the power of the Aeons.

Despite my attempts to convince her otherwise, that the aeons would never choose someone with conviction like hers…I was again shocked when the aeon Valefor chose her.

I still don't know why she has this power, or what is going to happen as a result, but I still intend to protect her to the very end…

"…There. The binding is complete." She stood, the symbols fading.

Like many white mages I knew in my time, she wore an outfit predominantly colored white. However, her dress was far more unique in that it had golden symbols implemented into it.

A white sleeveless tunic that was conjoined with a golden shoulderplate, two black leather chokers, a necklace from which an ankh hung, and several gold bracelets on her arms. One in specific was shaped like two snakes wrapped around each other in eternal embrace, a family heirloom of hers.

She wore a white cloak that ended just as her shoulders began and hung from the same shoulderplate, and ended just where her feet did.

Her lower clothes consisted of a white skirt that went all the way down to her ankles, adorned on the front with a red and gold silk piece in the shape of a scarab, a belt-like gold piece that wrapped around her waist, and finally simple leather boots that rarely appeared from under her skirt.

Her physical appearance was that of an average teenage girl, aside from the red eyes and a scar underneath her left eye, and she had her auburn hair cut in a spiky pixie style, to ensure her hair wouldn't get in the way of casting spells. All in all, with her choice of attire and appearance, she was unmistakably a white mage.

"That's good…do you feel raindrops?" Verdel asked suddenly, and I reached out with my hand.

Sure enough, drops splattered on my hand in seconds…but something was wrong.

"This isn't water." I muttered, and I looked at the two mages in concern.

"…This…the ocean…!" Willow looked pale as she pointed as the water. The formerly clear blue water was turning red. Blood red.

"Blood. It's raining blood." Verdel quietly spoke, and I narrowed my eyes as I heard the roar of a dragon.

"Miraak." I growled.

"Where?!" Willow brandished her staff, her voice timid.

The sounds of his dragon, Zahrahmiik, were unmistakable…but they were echoing from all around us.

"There! Get down!" Verdel yelled, casting a sudden ward that blocked a scorching fireball headed our way.

I grunted as the force of the fireball's impact staggered us, but I managed to keep standing.

"Ahh….Darius. It has been far too long." I growled as Miraak himself appeared, mounted on Zahrahmiik, and greeted us as the great serpentine dragon landed in the water near us.

"Miraak. Only you would make it rain blood." I called out angrily, and he phased onto the beach, only a few meters away from us, and still standing in the blood-red sea.

Stepping forward, he was suddenly stopped as Willow's wards pushed him away.

"Wards? A valiant effort at keeping the Nahgahdinok out, but child's play for me." Miraak laughed mockingly as he touched the barrier. To our collective shock, it shattered as he absorbed the power.

"T-That should keep undead like you out!" Willow gasped, still pointing her staff at him.

He tapped his golden mask with smug laughter, and stepped towards us.

"Get back! I'll handle him…!" I drew my dual swords, both of them Caladbolg-like, yet black and gold, and charged him with a leaping strike.

"So overeager. So weak." Miraak sighed whimsically as he effortlessly blasted me with electricity from his hand, sending me flying into the sand.

"Flare!" Veldel rose her staff, and a fury of tectonic and pyronic energy burst out of her staff, streaking towards him.

"Ah, I've heard much of you, Verdel. The greatest black mage in this time period. I expected someone more attractive." He smiled, and absorbed the blast with his hand outstretched, none the worse for the power she had unleashed.

"Holy!" Willow cried out, and a white blast of energy cascaded from her staff towards him.

"Ah, intuitive. You assume holy magic would be effective…but you are wrong." He turned aside the blast, deflecting it into the ground nearby and putting a crater into the beach.

"My turn." Miraak whispered, and phased behind the two as I staggered to my feet.

"Osmosis. Let us see how you fight without your petty abilities." He gripped both Verdel and Willow by their throats, easily absorbing all of their MP and their ability to fight.

"MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRAAK!" I leapt again, flipping in the air several times as my swords came down with powerful force towards Miraak's head.

"You really are becoming a nuisance. Thundaga!" A bolt of lightning slammed me into the ground, my swords tossed aside into the sands next to me.

"Let…go!" Verdel demanded angrily, and Miraak threw them both into the sand nearby.

"Foolishness, Darius, foolishness. You lost the first time, and you had Cosmos on your side. I may no longer serve Chaos, but I have his power! You are little more than an insect to me now. This is the only warning I give you. Stay out of my affairs, or else. If you steal another Heartstone from me, you will suffer dearly. As will your friends." Miraak walked past me leisurely, having not even broke a sweat or tiring himself through his combat with the three of us.

As I fought to look up, electricity coursing through my body and practically paralyzing me, Miraak mounted Zahrahmiik.

"Goodbye, Darius…and by the way, I hear another Warrior of Harmony has arrived in Spira…perhaps I should pay him a visit as well!" I looked at him, and he knew he had called me out and struck on my last hope.

I had known the new chosen warrior of Cosmos was here, recovering from the 1st Cycle. No matter how strong this new one was, he was not prepared to face Miraak. I had made the mistake of underestimating Miraak's power, and now he has the power to conquer Spira.

"Goodbye, Darius…hope that we never meet again." He bid goodbye to us, and the dragon took off, disappearing into the sunset.

Almost immediately, the ocean returned to normal, the small amount of blood rain that came down changing into water as well.

"…M-Mira…ak…" I mumbled his name, before falling into unconsciousness.

And so my tale began, as did the final battle of the two original warriors of the gods.