Author's Note

Hello all! Welcome to chapter two. Sorry it took so long to come out. I had midterms and an organized week-long event to run for my university. But now that all that is over, I can finally update the story.

Here, we see the other half of this story begin to unfold. Get ready for a bunch of original content mixed with all the Final Fantasy names you've come to love (or hate) in your years.

As always, leave a review to help me improve! Enjoy!

Chapter II

Project X

He was starting to see faces in the walls. The cracked lines of stone broke and cleaved in different places. After staring at the stone cell surrounding him, for … how long had it actually been? Seven months? Eight? He couldn't remember. His prison had become an extension of his body now. Does someone remember growing their arms? The answer was probably no.

Probably.

The cracks and lines formed faces that he could see. It was early morning. He could tell because of the shuffle of boots outside his wooden door. With no windows, it was exceptionally dark, the only light seeping in from under and around the slivers of the door. The flattened straw beneath him wasn't comfortable. His hair was matted and dirty, his body filthy and pained. His fingernails were chewed away, dirt and blood dried underneath. His lips were cracked and dry.

The cell door busted open, flooding the room with light. The dark silhouette of a guard stood there. The man threw a bucket of water and a small tray of bread at the prisoner. The boy scrambled to the bucket as the door slammed shut. He salvaged what hadn't spilled from the pail and drank it slowly. He ate the stale bread, drank more water, and finished it all. He didn't use any water to bathe. Drinking was too valuable. He didn't care that he stank.

He lay down on the straw, coughing. He nodded on and off for about an hour before another, more important guard, opened the door. The boy scattered backward as far as he could, fear gripping him. The soldier walked over and ripped the boy from the floor. He fought back, but was too weak. The man dragged him along the stones, and out into the smoother hallway. The boy yelled. He was backhanded hard enough to taste copper. He spat on the guard's shoes. The man grasped the boy's hair and continued dragging him.

Fifteen minutes later, he was thrown into a room. A second man was waiting, and the two soldiers picked the prisoner up and strapped him to a cold, metal table. Cuffs along his wrists and ankles locked him down. Another latched around his forehead and then his neck. Then they left, leaving him to struggle against the metal.

The room had many different tools, beakers, cords, and machinery. Soon, an older man walked in, wearing a brown apron over a white uniform. Black, sleek gloves reached up to the man's elbows. His blond hair, patched with gray, was slicked back. He wore slim glasses.

"Hello, Project X," the scientist said calmly. The boy had stopped struggling. He grimaced. Sweat trickled down his back and face.

"Why are you doing this?" X asked.

"It's been six months since you came here. It is time to move forward." The man adjusted his apron. Cid Carra was embroidered on his uniform. He walked out of X's vision and rolled a machine back. Tubes wrapped around it, hydraulic pumps powered on, and a giant vat of swirling darkness thrummed subtly. A long, mechanical arm with a needle extended from it violently. X's eyes widened, and he began to struggle again.

"We are going to begin the process for which you are named, Project X. We are finally going to begin," Cid said sadly as he readied some numbers into the machine. It beeped loudly in the small lab.

"Emperor Mateus … wants a new pet. One stronger than his current …" Cid stated, flipping three red switches the size of his thumb. The darkness swirled much faster.

"… he wants to recreate her, but better …"

Lights flashed on and off from the machine.

"… faster …"

The beeping increased in speed.

"… stronger …"

The hydraulic pumps pumped faster.

"… more … obedient …"

Cid's glasses flickered in the dancing lights.

"… and far deadlier."

He frowned with sad sympathy.

"I'm so sorry."

X shook against the operating table, straining at the leather straps. Cid reached out and grabbed the arm of the machine. He, hesitated a moment, looking into X's blue eyes. The two stared for a hard moment, the sounds of the machine clashing with X's struggles and whimpers. Cid walked over and pulled a leather strap from his apron's pouch. He forced it into X's mouth and laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.

He backed away and drove the needle deep into X's chest. Every muscle in the boy's body strained, veins popping along his bare arms. Cid ripped the ragged shirt from his chest to inspect the body. Wisps of darkness spilled out from the entry point of the needle. X screamed into the strap, biting hard. Cid plunged the needle in deeper. It skewered into X's heart, sending darkness through his bloodstream. Blood oozed slowly out.

Cid walked away from X and unlocked a cabinet. Inside he pulled out a crystalline flask, full of a sparkling purple substance. He walked back to X and removed the leather from his mouth. He flinched at X's piercing yells. He uncorked the vial.

"Drink this," he told X. X was unsure of what the liquid would do. All he could even think about was the feeling of darkness invading his veins, the pain more searing than a thousand knives slicing into his body. He was slowly losing consciousness from the agony. He could feel every sensation, the touch of the table, the vibrations of the needle, and the flowing breath of Cid.

"Drink it, boy!" Cid ordered. X looked at him and gave up. He allowed Cid to pour the flask into his mouth. The purple ooze was very cold, and slid slowly down his throat like thick sludge. Suddenly, the pain increased.

"That will make the darkness merge …" Cid's voice trailed off as X fought to live through the torture. He almost didn't feel it when Cid sliced open his right forearm. Pure red blood dropped onto the slick stones of the floor. Cid examined it, furrowing his brow in disappointment. He grabbed a large syringe full of more purple liquid and injected it into X's jugular vein. X's vocal cords shot at the scream he let out. Then, he lost all vision as Cid threw a black sack over his head. Fear swelled within X, the malaise increasing, his eyes flowing with tears, and his screams echoing off the walls. He heard the open and shutting of a door, and then he was alone.

~THW~

After an hour, the sack was removed from his head. The machine died as Cid removed the needle from X's chest. All the straps were undone and Cid caught X in his arms. X was too tired and in pain to move. Every fiber of his muscles wracked in pain, his skin burned, and his vision wavered. He puked onto the scientist.

Cid carried him into another room. A large tub sat in the corner next to a hose protruding from the wall. Cid lay X down in the cold tub. X tried to open his eyes, but it was too hard.

"Are you able to undress?" Cid asked. X stared up at him and tried lifting his arms. They could barely tremble anymore. Cid withdrew a knife from his apron and knelt down. He cut X's torn and smelling trousers from him. The boy lay naked in the tub, covered in tiny scars, bruises and cuts. Dirt and dried blood caked his body. Cid shook his head in disbelief and turned a valve. Warm water gushed out of the tube and into the tub.

X lay still as the warm water flowed in. He tried to speak, but couldn't. All he could think was thank you repeatedly. He hadn't been clean in half a year. When the water came to his chest, it was turned off.

"Here, I'll help you sit up." Cid said. He pulled the boy forward. X tried to remain sitting up. It was difficult. He started to cry again. The sensations surrounding him were dulled by the shooting pains running through his nerves.

"Who are you?" Cid asked.

"I … my name is Project X," he stated.

"I mean, who were you before?" X looked at the man. Cid's expression was soft, the lines of his forehead not as deep.

"I don't know," X replied.

"What have they done to you?" Cid asked. He grabbed a cup and filled it, spilling over X's blond hair.

"Hurt."

"How?" He continued pouring water.

"No food. No water. Hitting and screaming. Throwing." X could hardly speak. His throat was sore from screaming for so long. Cid removed his gloves and ran a thick soap through X's hair.

"Why?"

"I don't—" X coughed horribly, blood splattering out. Cid ran some fresh water and let X drink from the tube. "I don't know," he continued. "They just … look at me and ask me to do things. Things like running, fighting, or using magic."

Cid rinsed water through the soapy hair, cleaning out all the dirt. "It's unnatural for one to innately use magic. It is a very rare gift."

"Why me …?" X asked once his hair was thoroughly cleaned. He tried hard to remember life before this place. It was like memory hit a brick wall, locking him out.

"I don't know … I'm going to clean your body, is that okay?" Cid asked. X felt odd being asked a question. He was used to brute force by now. He remained silent, crying slightly. Cid drained the dirty water and replaced it again, adding soap. He ran a cloth over X's body, cleaning everywhere. X didn't even feel embarrassed when Cid cleaned his private areas. X was having a hard time feeling anything but sorrow or pain.

"What did you do to me?" X asked. Cid stopped his second run through to look at the boy, sternly.

"I did what I was ordered to do. I'm going to take a blood sample now that you're clean, okay? It'll hurt for a second." Cid collected a small vial of blood using a syringe.

"I promise that what I did to you will never happen again," Cid explained. X looked at him warily.

"How can I believe you?"

"You'll just have to," Cid answered. He helped X stand. The boy felt very weak but clean for the first time in half a year. He could walk slowly. Cid helped him dress, one limb at a time into loose, cotton clothes.

"I don't know what they are going to do after this. All I know is I will have to monitor it all. I truly am sorry this is happening to you. But whatever they do, it will not be pleasant." Cid helped X out of the lab and into another stone hallway, lit by periodic torches in the wall.

"Where are you taking me? I don't know this hall." X looked around, straining to remember if he knew where this all led.

"Just over here, near my lab. It will be your new room," Cid told him.

The new cell had a steel, barred door. It slid open with a grating sound. Cid led X to a cot fastened to the wall. It was softer than the straw he was used to. A seat with a hole in it was adjoined to the opposite wall, probably leading to the outside.

"You have to survive, Project X. Remember, you can't give up." Cid gave the boy a folded gray blanket from beneath the cot. It was thin, but soft.

"What if I want to die?" X asked, fresh tears forming.

"You must remember who you are," the older man said. X looked at the smooth walls of the room. All he could remember was the faces of a woman and man. Not what they looked like, just faces.

"There's only two people. Two people, and Tor and Aven—"

"Shush. Try not to say his name. You shouldn't even know him," Cid admonished. And as if being summoned, Aven rounded into the hallway.

"What have you done!?" Aven screamed. His black hair dangled in front of his bright, steel-gray eyes. He moved it aside. They were full of anger.

"Now, young sir, I only followed your father's or—"

"I don't care about my father! What have you done to X?" Aven yelled.

X got to his feet and wobbled in place. He took a simple step forward and tumbled to the ground with a groan. Aven pushed Cid out of the way and rushed into the cell to help X up. They got him situated onto the cot.

"He's never been this weak before! And now he lives in your personal block? I want answers!" Prince Aven barked. X felt his head being turned with a small hand. Aven forced X to look at him. Aven was pale, usually. But right now, his cheeks flushed with ire.

"Your Highness, I must say you are very assertive for being only fifteen years of—"

"Does it look like I even care? He's hurt! Help him! And that's a royal order!" Aven commanded. Cid sighed and pulled a flask from one of his pouches. It was labeled as an elixir.

"This will ease his pain," Cid explained. Aven snatched it from him and removed the cork. He gently held it to X's lips. X felt his entire body ease as the elixir's magic rushed through his body. He slumped back against the smooth stone.

"Cid, go. I want to spend time with him," Aven ordered.

"You know if you get caught …"

"This is the block of the emperor's scientist. Very few people can access this."

"And who let you in?" Cid asked, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.

"Who else?" Aven offhandedly replied. Cid actually laughed snappishly.

"I should have figured. I'll go lock the entrance. You have an hour." Cid walked off down the hall. Aven fixed his royal black and purple tunic before removing his long, hooded cloak. The cloak was black and rimmed with purple. He sat next to X.

"Why are you here?" X asked.

"I'm furious! When Tor told me you were being experimented on by Cid, I ran straight here. He also gave me a key for this block …" Aven smiled devilishly while holding up a bronze key.

"And since this is a private block, I can come see you more easily," Aven said. X smiled on the inside.

"That's good. Will they visit, too?" X asked.

"Tor and Celes? Yeah, they should at least. I'd be angry if they didn't," Aven said with a smile.

"I think you're always angry," X feebly said.

"God, what have they done to you this time …" Aven said with a frown.

"Pain …" X said dryly.

"You have never been much of a talker," Aven joked. X stared out the bars and into the flickering hall.

"Maybe I was like that before this place …" X said.

"I wonder what you would be like if you smiled or laughed or … anything, really." Aven looked around the room.

"I hate my father and what he does to people," the prince said. He punched his pale, bony fist into the cot. X just looked stoically at him.

"What gives him the right to experiment on living people!? Just because he's the damn emperor! I hate him!" He punched the cot again, harder this time "Look what they've done to you!"

"I'm no one," X told him bluntly.

"Not to me! You saved me, remember?"

"When?"

"When you first arrived, about six months ago. I wasn't wearing my royal garb, and so some soldier was hitting me, beating me. You … you know I can't fight, and I'm too afraid to use my own magic. But you just broke from the ranks of the other prisoners and just stopped him. You threw fire at him from your hands and saved me. But …" Aven trailed off, afraid to continue. His hands clenched and unclenched on his legs. He brought his knees up to rest his chin on. A tear formed in his right eye.

"Then they took me by myself," X continued.

"Yeah, because you could use magic. And now you're just another horrid experiment!" Aven cried out. "People aren't things to play with. I hate my father. I'll make him pay, I swear. I mean, you're my age! What gives him—"

A door at the end of the block opened and shut. Footsteps calmly approached until a figure stood before them. A man in his early twenties with dark brown hair and deep, forest green eyes opened the cell door the rest of the way and leaned against the wall. A custom-made, extra-long masamune rested on his back.

"Oh, hey Tor," Aven said. X lay down the rest of the way onto the cot, the pain still throbbing in his body. His thoughts wavered here and there. What did Cid put into me? The images of the swirling darkness played in his mind.

Tor stared down at them, examining them like objects. He let out a long breath.

"I'm sorry, X …" he said.

"Why?"

"I …" Tor stopped. X thought that Tor wasn't expecting that question. Or maybe Tor just didn't want to give an answer. Tor walked to face them fully. On his uniform was his ranking. X didn't know it. He just knew Tor was really important, really deadly, and really efficient.

"What did they do to him?" Aven asked. "What did they do, bro?"

"I'm not your actual brother, Aven," Tor corrected.

"You care for me. You, X, and Sis are all I have …" Aven said bitterly. He looked away quickly. Tor sighed and crouched in front of them.

"And if your father knew that—"

"I don't give a damn about my father!" Aven shouted, fire leaping from his fingers, while an Aero spell exploded around him. X felt his heart twinge. For six months they had observed him and kept him prisoner. He didn't even remember who he was anymore. But how long had Aven lived this way, in some shadow of a monster he did not want to be?

"Why does everyone always bring him up …" Aven asked glumly. His head drooped and he ran his fingers through his black, lengthy hair.

"Because he's the emperor. And even you have to keep him happy," Tor said. X groaned in pain, holding his chest. He felt like his body was turning inside out, the flesh crawling away from his bones.

"Tor, what did they do to him?" Aven asked again.

"I really don't know."

X curled up, feeling Aven's hand on his shoulder. The crawling intensified, ripping apart from his muscles. Fire surged through him, and he yelled into the stones. Tor stood up and peeked his head out of the cell.

"Aven, you have to go. They'll be coming for him soon," Tor said.

"I …" X screamed again in agony.

"Come on, we can visit him later. You can't be found here. Go spend time in the courtyards. I'll come see you soon," Tor explained. He placed a hand on his sword and walked out of the cell and down the hall.

"Hurry."

X's head rested on a small pillow up against the bars of the cell. Aven stood up and left, sliding the door shut. The metal clanged as it locked into place. X twisted his head and looked up at Aven. Aven knelt down to his level and put a hand through the bars. X reached out and took it. They remained there, hands locked for a few moments. Aven's face locked into determination; he swallowed hard, and squeezed X's rough hand.

"I promise things will be right one day. For you and everyone else. I promise I'll help you," Aven said through sloppy tears. Through the pain, X felt warmth glow from Aven's hand.

"Prince! Hurry!" Tor shouted. X nodded at Aven and let go reluctantly. Aven grabbed his black cloak and wrapped it roughly around him before walking quickly down the hall. He and Tor exited, leaving X all alone in the flickering torchlight.

Every part of him hurt, burned, screamed for release. But the intensity only grew and grew. He screamed for what seemed like hours.

Darkness swirling, swirling, twisting, infusing …

~THW~

"Go to the courtyards for now, Doavar will want you to study. I have to go and get ready for my duties …" Tor said. He looked down at what he considered to be a younger brother. Aven just stared at the large metallic door that led to Cid's block. Tor gently rubbed the boy's shoulder.

"Go now, before Gabranth sees you," Tor urged. Aven nodded, pulling his dark amethyst hood up, and strutting off through the main hall. Tor rounded on his heel in the opposite direction.

"What gives you the right to tell the prince what to do?" barked a feminine voice.

"I wasn't ordering him, Celes," Tor replied. He turned to his left to see his adoptive sister leaning against a pillar of the grand hall. Her arms were crossed over her breastplate. Her armor was magnificent and shining, wrought by the last dwarven societies of the Northern Vale Rift. The metal was highlighted with icy blue.

She waved her long blond hair from her round face. "It sounded like ordering to me."

"Would you prefer that he be caught visiting X again?"

"No, but you have no right to order him around," she said coolly. Tor shifted his weight.

"What have you got up your ass this time?" Tor was quick to the point.

"Do you even care about what they're going to do to X?" Celes asked, walking towards him.

"Of course I do! Why must you pretend like I have no heart?" he spat back.

"Because all I've known the past five years is a brother that cares for nothing but himself." She was within inches of him. He felt the air grow colder in her presence.

"I couldn't tell Aven about X. I can't tell him what they're going to do … what they've already done," Tor explained.

"And let Aven live in the darkness he fights so painstakingly to escape?" Her volume increased slightly. She stamped a foot in annoyance.

"It's best if he doesn't know, Celes!" Tor shouted.

"Oh, no, don't pretend any longer. All you ever care about is doing Mateus' and Argovaron's bidding like the bitch of a lapdog you are," she snapped. Tor felt his blood simmer, but he held back any sort of retaliation. For years he had learned not to play into her hate.

"Celes, I do what's best for my empire, for all of I'ltorien," he stated.

"No, you only care for yourself! You didn't go through what the other experiments did!" she nearly screamed. She uncuffed her arm and rolled her sleeve up. The number 18 was tattooed there.

"I know, Celes, that I did not go through the Pits. I know I did not go through any experiments, I—"

"And yet you still rank up through the system faster than you deserve. Life was given to you on a silver platter and you didn't even hesitate to ask for seconds while the rest of us fought or died to be where we're at!"

In her shouting, icy shards thrusted from her feet, skidding along the smooth flagstones of the hall. This was the reason she had always hated him. He had been chosen to bypass the Magitek Training and live an easier life. It was this guilt that latched onto the sinews of his body, that writhed in his mind. He had watched all those years as she was experimented on, tortured, as she killed to move on …

"Celes … I'm sorry for—"

"Enough, Tor. You may be my family, but I will never forgive you. And now that the same things are happening to X …" She paused and looked at her arm before putting her gauntlet back on. "You left me behind … don't you dare leave him behind. Me, you, and X. Aven loves all of us. If you forsake X like you did me, Aven will never forgive you just like I cannot."

"Celes, I never chose to leave you behind!" he shouted.

"It's because of you that King is gone … and you never tried to help me. Don't fail Aven or X, or you will pay …" Celes stormed off, her boots clacking loudly on the stone. Tor was left frozen, the words she said ripping inside his heart.

He walked off to his quarters, reliving memories of the past years.

~THW~

Aven sat in the grass of the courtyard. Cool winds from the ocean blew over the citadel's walls. The capital city was situated less than a league from the Northern Vast, a massive ocean that led to mysterious lands. The citadel overlooked the city from atop a small cliff, rocky shores only a few hundred feet below. The city sprawled down until the slums and poor districts and finally the wall that surrounded it all. Avéladré, and the hill the city was built upon, had been his home and prison.

Behind him, the Soul Tower loomed. Built hundreds of eras ago by the mixed races of I'ltorien, it stood to the ravages of time. It was originally home to a god named Anuwëy, the deity that watched over the hearts of all things. The Soul Tower was built with strands of souls, from his children that died, any human or animal, plant or demon, he would build his tower with their souls once they were gone.

His rival was Seltra, the god of death, and … Aven lost track of his thoughts, watching a soldier lead some slaves through the arches.

"Young Prince! Are you studying?" Aven turned to the snappish voice of his tutor, Doavar. The wind blew through the pages of his history book.

"Yes, Doavar," Aven offhandedly replied. His heart was still aching, thinking of what happened to X.

"Master Doavar, to you. These studies are important! The history of I'ltorien is something all nobles must know. Who was it that slew the Goddess Seltra?" Doavar asked. The wrinkles of his face contorted into a piercing gaze, the white wisps of what hair he had left blew gently.

"Um, Numeanor?" Aven replied.

"Incorrect, young master. This you should know. It was our very own Argovaron, your father's advisor and trusted friend," Doavar explained.

"But, how? She died over a thousand years ago?"

"There are theories as to how Argovaron cannot age. He has never told anyone, but I can tell you this." He leaned in close to Aven and his raspy voice whittled to a whisper. "No one should cross Argovaron. Not even the Black Four."

"Why?" Aven asked.

"I've only seen it once, but he possesses the abilities of the legends of the Soul Knights, personal champions of Anuwëy that sacrificed something very important to them to help stop Seltra and her army."

"What … what did he sacrifice?"

"No one knows," Master Doavar said. "But he's the oldest living human in this world, and assuredly one of the most deadly beings among us. Remember that when you study of the old eras. Now back to it!" Doavar slapped his leg, causing Aven to flinch. He shook his head and looked back to I'ltorien Vol. II: The Beginnings and Ends of Seltra and Anuwëy. He flipped back to where he was and continued to read.

Midway through the creation of the Obsidian Tower, Aven heard shouting.

"Get back in line!"

Aven looked up and saw a soldier shouting at one of the slaves that had broken the formation. It was a young girl of about nine or ten years. She had green hair, clumped with dirt and oils. She screamed as the metal cuffs cut into her wrists and ankles. Chains connected the two sets of manacles, rattling wildly.

"Someone grab the bitch and throw her into the line!" the captain at the front ordered. One of the rank-and-file grunts shuffled over and grabbed her by the arm. She squealed and pulled away, stumbling backward into the dirt. It was causing quite the scene.

"Master Aven, please focus on your work," Doavar mumbled. Aven ignored him, feeling that same anger he had always known shift through him.

"C'mere, girl," another soldier said. She shimmied away and tripped, out of his reach. She screamed more.

"No! Get back, you putrid male." The vocabulary did not match the age, was Aven's first thought. "Back!"

The soldier lifted her writhing body from the ground. She shook enough to fall from his grasp back into the grass. The man growled deeply, walked forward, started to drag her. She kicked at his hand as best she could and wriggled free again.

"Oh, for Soul's sake," the captain shouted. He walked briskly back to the girl and backhanded her hard enough to send blood onto the green grass. She cried out. He picked her up and hit her again.

"Stop!" Aven screamed, running to the scene. He had had enough. Hate flurried through him like a snowstorm. His hands balled into fists and his cloak billowed behind him in his stride.

"Nudge off, boy," the captain said without looking.

"I said let her go," Aven ordered. Without looking the captain beat Aven's face with the back of his gauntlet. Drops of blood coated Aven's tongue. Blood dripped from the girl's lips and eyebrow. She was crying.

"I said to let her go!" Aven shouted with all his force. The captain dropped the girl and kicked her away. He reached for his sword and turned towards Aven.

"You're going to learn a lesson, boy, tr—"

Aven thrust his open hands out and shut his eyes. In an instance the captain was engulfed with flames. The metal surrounding his body seared into the flesh, acting as a cauldron to boil the man. He screamed ferally in the courtyard. Aven waved his hands and a gush of wind knocked the high-ranking soldier down, and then he threw the man into the stone walls where more flames erupted. The man fell there, convulsing on the ground until he burned to death.

The rest of the soldiers stood still, hands on their weapons. They didn't dare draw them. Unlike the captain, they saw who this was. Aven felt sweat drip down his back. His knees were wobbly. He crashed into the grass, looking at his shaking hands.

"Prince Aven!" Doavar shouted, feebly running to him. Aven crawled over to the girl and used the last of his energy to cure her wounds. He fell over next to her.

"Doavar … unchain her, now," Aven breathed. Doavar nodded and ordered the guard at the back of the line to come forward.

"Do as the prince says, unchain the little girl," Doavar ordered, his own voice shaking. The guard fumbled with the keys and then unlocked her. She crawled instantly to Aven.

"Take us to my chambers," Aven ordered. Doavar went to help Aven up, but then Aven saw a shadow loom over.

"I will take care of this, Grandmaster Doavar."

Aven looked up into the helm of one of the Black Four. A stark white I was emblazoned onto his black breastplate. It was Gabranth, the leader of the Black Four, the Judge Magisters of the emperor. He picked up Aven and the girl like they were paper, shouldered them, and walked off.

"Your father will not like to hear of this," Gabranth said through the metal of his horned helmet.

"I don't care, just don't …" But before Aven could finish, he passed out from his body's exhaustion.

~THW~

X woke up about an hour after Aven had left. His body was still throbbing in intense pain. His cell door slammed open. He blinked wearily and looked at the large person at his door. It was one of the Black Four. X knew of them. This one was number IV.

"Why are you here?" X asked weakly.

"I'm taking you to the Pits," she replied sternly.

Post Author's Note

Yes, welcome to why this is rated T. Do I understand that some people will leave because of this? Yes, I do. Do I care? No.

I'ltorien is a dark world, full of gritty realism and painful life. It is true to the core of what life is, especially in a fantasy setting. So, with two chapters down, I hope you're starting to see what kind of story you're getting yourselves into. I also made I'ltorien a bit simpler for the sake of this fan fiction. I won't get into all of its intricacies.

So, please tell me about X, Aven, Tor, Celes, everyone! I'm VERY curious to hear everyone's thoughts about this world and its characters.

Until next time!

~TorNathan