They formed into existence yet again. But the world hadn't seemed to form with them. This time, a colorful mist surrounded them, occasionally creating a vision that was almost tangible, but dissipating before it did.

He looked, and saw her. Her head craned downward.

Did we go back, or forward this time?

She said nothing. He waited.

Finally, after almost a minute, "forward. I apologize."

It's fine. What's wrong?

"The past beith harsh," she said, simply.

I wouldn't know.

He saw her consider something, briefly. She looked like she was going to speak, but didn't.

Where did you come from? He asked.

She turned, then, and even without eyes he felt her glare. Her lip quivered.

You're answering my questions, aren't you? He continued, though her expression made him feel guilty even for asking. Well...that's my question, now. What are you? What is the Nexus?

She breathed deeply. "We have come to the place where this shalt be explained. However, if thou dost not...appreciate me, afterward, thou ist welcome to thy belief."

An impulse struck him. He fought it off. But then wondered why he had, and gave in to it. He walked over, and grabbed her hand. Twice as hard as he otherwise would have so that he knew she would feel the ghost-like fingers. Her lips curled upward into a soft smile.

The mist took form, then, and suddenly they were standing on the outside of a circle of men in black robes. At first, he thought time was frozen, because they stood perfectly still.

But in the center, a small girl was barely moving. Trying to stand still, but shivering. She was small, and almost naked, and her eyes shot from one man to the next. They didn't look at her.

What is this?

The Maiden squeezed his hand harder. "Gods cannot be killed." She whispered. "They can only be imprisoned."

And then it came, stretching itself through the air more than flying. The same black, deadly mass he had seen before. It lunged toward the men, but they didn't flinch. Their hands shot upward, and the dark thing froze.

He recognized them at that moment. Even though they'd taken off their armor, there was the same number of them, and their bodies had the same shape.

Those are the men who stole God's soul.

"And the ones who, together, now have God's power," she said.

The First Demon struggled against its captors, but their magic easily overcame it. Tight, glowing bonds appeared around its body, and it let out a scream infinitely uglier than the one made by the tree. Nameless had to cover his ears.

The girl looked up at the squirming Demon. He saw her lip quiver, and then she shook her head, closing her eyes. Everything boiling inside of her seemed to explode out in a scream.

"No!"

"Comest now, milady, thou agreed for this," one of the old men said. He and the others held down the demon with no evidence of exertion. It writhed but was powerless to escape.

"My mind is changed," she whispered. "I cannot...I cannot!"

She turned tried to run from the circle. But when she did, one of the men's free hands reached out and shoved her back in. She tried again, but every time, they pushed her into the center. She finally gave up, fell to her knees, and began to cry.

"Thy soul ist white beyond all mortals. We trust this beast to no other," one of them said.

She shook her head, "Prithee, no. Prithee no..."

"She hath lost her will," one of the men whispered to another.

"Ceasest not thy channeling," he whispered back.

There was a pause.

"The lady beith unwilling," the first whispered harshly.

And the man he was speaking to gave him a sad, assured look, "That she willedth up to this point is nothing short of astonishing. The plan must continue."

"But-"

"The plan shalt continue."
And the detractor looked away. The dark mass was forced down. It struggled the whole way. Clawing, screaming, mouths formed out of it and bit at the men grabbing it, but they couldn't stretch all the way to their bodies. Its captors stood still as they lowered it. The screaming girl looked up, and flattened herself against the ground as if that would somehow protect her.

It didn't.

The black mass entered her mouth, her nose, and her eyes. Her screams were blocked out and turned into gargles. Vomit exited her, but was pushed back in through the force of the thing entering. She started to bleed.

Oh my god.

"Hold!" One of the men screamed. "Hold!"

The girl started jolting. Her body intermittently glowed red and turned so dark that it seemed to suck in light. He saw her bones twisting underneath her skin. She looked like she was going to tear open.

Then the darkness was entirely inside of her, and she was still alive.

They all stood watching her.

She coughed, and sputtered, and got to her knees, then started crawling around. Occasionally, she tried to stand, but when she did, she'd just flop back down again and writhe. She vomited a few times. Sometimes the darkness exited along with the bile, but whenever it did, it entered her again, almost immediately.

When she looked up the first time, he saw her eyes, and in them he saw something so unspeakably horrific that he had to look away. The men standing around her reacted as well.

"Speakest thy name," one of the men said.

She started to talk, but only coughing and black smoke came out.

"Speakest thy name."

She tried again, and her voice came out. It was intimately familiar. If he hadn't known already, he would have known just by its sound. "I have not one. Thou stolest them both."

The man growled. He stomped over and kicked her. She rolled over like a sow. When she was on her back he stomped her repeatedly.

Nameless rushed forward, but he felt the Maiden's hand squeeze harder. He turned to look at her face. It was emptier than it had ever been.

Another man came forward instead, and grabbed the one who was kicking her. He whispered something they couldn't hear. But it was followed by the response from the kicker.

"It slew my family! It slew my friends, it slew entire armies and countries. It deserveth nothing less! Nothing less!"

He tried to rush at the girl again, but the rest of them held him back. She crawled backward, and flattened her back against a tree, panting.

They all turned, and stared at her, as if wondering what to do next.

"What else dost thou want to see?" The Maiden said, barely above a whisper.

What?

"What..." she gulped. "What dost thou wish to know of me? I shall show thee whatever thou desirest."

He looked at the squirming girl against the tree, then back at her. The expression on their faces was the same. He thought of what that meant.

I only have one question.

"Only one?" she whispered. "No more?"

Yes.

"Art thou curious?"

Yes. he said. And I guess I'll stay that way. But if revisiting it makes you feel like this, then you don't need to show me anything.

Her face broke. A gasp came out of her and he saw her lips contort. It was followed by a series of small sounds. Lethargic, shameful.

Are you crying?

Her blank face turned to his. "Hast thou not learned?" she said. "Tears belong only to those with eyes."

He grimaced and looked away.

"What beith thy question?"

Nevermind.

Her fingers squeezed his again. "I want to answer."

He looked back at her. She forced a smile.

Who poured the wax over your eyes. I...just...I need to know who did that to you.

"Willst thou be angered by them?"

Honestly; I'm already furious. But it's better to know who to be angry at.

She breathed deeply, "I did."

...Oh.

The image in front of them unformed, and became mist again.

I'm sorry...can I ask more questions? You don't have to show me anything, but...

"As long as we do not look," she said.

He nodded, then said. What are you, really? Are you the girl? Are you the demon?

"I know not," she said. "They have existed both in me for so long, I cannot point to which is whom."

Why don't you ever use your power? You're the strongest demon whose ever lived...or, at least, you have it in you. Why have you sat by while everyone else does the fighting?

"For the same reason I poured wax over mine eyes," she said.

And why is that?

"A Demon liveth inside me. Primal and brutal and vicious. Where beith the line between acting in mine interest, and acting in his?" Her fingers squeezed his harder. "I feel it still, every day and every night. Its hunger pulseth within me. If I access mine power, who knows what will happen? The result could beith far worse than the Old One. And, above all else, I made the promise I would not."

To whom?

"To someone older than the dream of you."

And he heard it in her voice. She wasn't willing to answer that one. When he thought about why, it made him sick. Not at what she had suffered, but at his own behavior. These memories were painful to her. Not painful in a way that was healthy to revisit; painful in a way that was traumatic.

I'm sorry, he said.

"Thou didst not know," she said.

No. There's no excuse for how I treated you. None.

She bit her lip, and her fingers squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

There was a silence around them. The mist formed and unformed, other times and places appeared, but were gone so quickly he couldn't identify them. He noticed that he had been holding her hand for a long time, and there was the impulse to let go.

Instead, he faced her.

The Nexus was built to imprison the Old One, wasn't it? That's what it's for.

She nodded, "Deep within, beneath the core of the Nexus, lieth the lake of God, from where the tree first grew. In that place, the Old One may beith calmed. In that place, it may sleepeth."

And you...?

"I am the only one who can," she said. Then frowned. "But I am blind."

So I have to help you.

"Yes."

Why did you hide this from me? Why did you, and the Monumental send me out, again, and again, without telling me why?

"Because thou art human. Only human. And when given choice, a human maketh error."

He remembered the men sucking the soul out of God. Creating the Old One.

But you told me now. You changed your mind.

"Because I trust thee," she said. "I should not. After all that hath happened, no one should trust anyone, but...I trust thee. Perhaps from weakness."

That's not weak.

She shook her head. He looked out again at the forming and unforming masses of color. He couldn't look at her anymore. Even though she was blind, he felt eyes on him when he did. He felt an awareness that was far too deep.

"There beith one more thing I shall tell thee," she said. "I shall force thee no longer. Now, thou knowst the full truth, and thou art free to choose. If thou canst go on no longer, then thou mayst leave."

Really?

"Yes. I shall not keep thee as a slave, I have decided...even for the world."

I'm sure the Monumental would love to hear that.

"I have not spoken to him of it," she said. "I will not."

And if I do leave? He said.

"There hath been Champions before thee. There shalt be Champions after."

He nodded. Then I've already decided.

He saw her shake. She knew what he was going to say, perhaps. She wasn't looking forward to it.

He looked directly at her. "I-"

Then suddenly all the mist around them turned red. The Maiden jolted, then began to twitch. She cried out in horrific pain.

What's happening!? What's going on?

She grabbed at her throat, but it didn't stop him from seeing it. Red seeped through her fingers. Her mouth opened, gasped, but couldn't seem to suck in air. She collapsed, twitched, and then lay still.

He watched in silence as blood pooled beneath her on an invisible ground.

Then she vanished.

Something slowed his reaction as the mist collided into him, as it wavered and flowed and bit at him, and suddenly it was black, it was lunging at him just like the First Demon. He was being swallowed, he was being destroyed. This wasn't like death. He had felt death. This was an absolute obliteration engulfing him and turning him to nothing.

He didn't think of facing the end bravely. In spite of all the times he'd begged for it, he wasn't ready. His feet were nothing, then his legs, then his lower torso. It was consuming him.

NO! He screamed, just before it took all of him. LET GO! LET GO!

And then he was gone.

Biorr and Ostrava stumbled down the stairs just in time to see the boy slit the Maiden's throat.

"No!" Ostrava yelled, but the boy was on the other side of the stairs from them, and below them, across a deep chasm. When the candlemaiden's body slumped over, Nameless jolted, and a thin trickle of blood started dropping from his nose.

The boy looked at them tauntingly, and then started scampering off, into the darker areas behind the pillars.

"Get back here!" The Prince yelled after him, and started running down the stairs again.

"Damn it, boy," Biorr said, and grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him.

"What are you doing Biorr?" Ostrava turned and yelled at him. "He killed her! And what's happened to Nameless, why is he-"

Biorr whispered harshly in his face, "Cool yer head, boy! He doesn't die, remember? An' regardless, he'll either be fine or he won't. There's nothing we can do. But that lad is leading us into something, he wouldn't be running if he wasn't."

"How can you just..." Ostrava murmured. "They're dead, how can you-"

"-Because I've lost more people than ye've ever known, and right now I have to stop it from happening to ye."

Ostrava looked over at the bodies, then back at Biorr, and breathed. "Fine."

"I'll go in that way. If a horde of em come at me, they might have a shot," Biorr said, without a hint of arrogance. "But lad, ye've got to go in from the side, ambush the ambush, it's the one thing they're never ready fer."

Ostrava tried to calm his emotions enough to think clearly. "Fine. Okay...okay."

They traveled slower and more cautiously down the rest of the stairs, and Ostrava tried to look away from the two bleeding figures on the ground.

"If it helps any, he's alive," Biorr whispered.

He looked, then, he couldn't help it, and he saw Nameless's eyes stretched wide and empty, the thin trail of blood running from his nose, down his lips, and dripping from his chin.

But he was breathing.

Biorr gestured. Ostrava nodded past his grimace and walked around the pillars.

But Nameless' blank eyes seemed to follow him.

Vecelles swerved through the pillars and into a gigantic black hall, subtly curved to form the Nexus's giant circle. Behind him, he heard the clanking of the knight charging. He didn't know where the other was. He just had to wait for-

There was a screech, and a sound of steel hitting steel. He turned, and saw that Ornea had jumped from behind a pillar and tried to stab the Knight, but his sword had swung behind and knocked her rapier from her hand. The Knight's other blade moved after it, and there was a whirlwind of swinging steel. He turned, but it happened too fast. Ornea avoided the first few strikes, but on the third red spurted from just below her shoulder.

He jumped onto the knight's back and tried to shove his dagger through the plates, but was flabbergasted when he saw nowhere to insert it. The Knight spun around with enough momentum to knock him off. Ornea ran to her weapon and picked it up, and both of them stared him down. He checked her. It was only a scratch, she could still fight.

The knight looked between them, "Oh now, this ain't fair."

Vecelles grinned, but then he saw the Knight's expression, and he realized that he hadn't been complaining. He'd been expressing some kind of pity. For them.

The swords started swinging again. Vecelles suddenly realized what they were up against. He almost cursed.

Ostrava ran around the pillar and, just as he heard Biorr letting loose, spotted the dark shape moving up on him.

His shield came up, and an estoc was deflected. But then it was back in the shadows again, whatever it was.

"I know you're out there," he said, and felt like an idiot. Talking meant he was afraid, didn't it?

Suddenly Ostrava felt, not for the first time, that he wasn't meant to be a warrior.

It came out of the shadows again. This time, he turned to swing, but whatever it was was too fast. The rapier stabbed through his side, and he cried out. He had time to see a golden mask glinting, and then it was gone again.

They're too fast. He grabbed at his side. Whoever they are, they're too fast.

He heard scampering off to his right. But when he turned, it came from the left. He stumbled trying to turn around again, and the blade deflected off his armor only because he had moved in a way no competent fighter would have. Of course, it was gone before he could recover.

He was comically outmatched.

He heard the sound of a scream that was definitely not Biorr's and gritted his teeth, the Knight could take care of himself. If he kept fighting in the dark, he was already dead. He turned and ran for the candlelight.

His own footfalls drowned out the sound of it approaching, and the rapier plunged into him, and not on his side, this time. He cried out, and fell to his knees, and felt its weight on top of him. A hand grabbed his helmet and jerked it off, and then he felt a dagger against his throat.

But just before it cut, there was a familiar roar.

Biorr came charging out of the darkness, and collided with the woman on top of Ostrava. She was knocked off of her feet and landed in a roll, but wasn't fast enough to avoid the whirling blades entirely. The tip of one of Biorr's swords cut her cheek, but she ducked under the second one. They came in an unpredictable storm. Up, down, across, high low, she barely moved out of the way, and when a low attack came, she jumped on top of the sword, ran across it, and shoved her estoc into Biorr's armor.

Biorr growled as Ostrava tried to get to his feet. The woman put her body on the estoc and shoved it deeper before Biorr started to shake like a dog, sending her flying off.

He reached up, grabbed the rapier, and pulled it out of himself without a sound, before tossing it aside.

It was then that the two younger fighters showed up. The girl was holding her side and limping. One of the boy's arms was dangling.

"Now," Mephistopheles hissed.

They all attacked together, and Biorr was overwhelmed. His wound slowed his movements, and there was a flurry of thrusts coming at him. Another rapier stabbed into his back, but he didn't know whose, and then a third. One of his blades fell as his arm went limp. He roared, and swung, but one sword wasn't enough. It was that damn woman. Without her, the younger ones weren't even a threat, but he had never fought someone so fast in his entire life. He realized, in horror, he wouldn't even be able to beat her in a straight up battle.

Then, one of the blades froze. He heard a gasp, but didn't have time to verify it. It gave him an opportunity. He struck out, and his strike hit home. The fast woman was hit in the stomach, and let out a bloody gargle before she backed away, holding her wound.

The limping girl backed off, too, and Biorr turned to see Ostrava standing behind the boy.

His sword had gone through his chest, and then cut outward. The boy's body had been slashed through.

He blinked a few times, staying alive only through those strange, life-preserving properties of the Soul Arts, and then collapsed.

With Ostrava's helmet off, Biorr could see the mortified look on his face.

And then he felt the woman sweep past him. Even with her injury, she was fast. She grabbed the augite from the boy's belt before anyone could stop her and sprinted. The girl tried to limp with her, but instead, she grabbed her and ran with her.

Biorr wanted to stop them, but he was too exhausted, and injured.

And there was Ostrava's face.

They were gone before he could attempt to follow.

The Maiden came to within minutes, as she always did when death visited her, just in time to see a portal activate, and two figures vanish. At first, it was like waking up from a deep dream, with no idea of where you were or how you got there. Then, everything came back to her, and she felt the tension before she remembered why she had it.

Because when she looked back at Her Champion, her stomach dropped. His eyes were blank, blood ran from his nose, and his body looked like an empty vessel.

It was.

"No..." she murmured, and started running her hands along him, trying to feel for his soul and finding nothing. The nexial binding hung loosely at his ankle, useless, now. His spirit had escaped it.

"No, no, no!"

But he didn't answer. He was gone.

And this time, he wasn't coming back.

I want to avoid commenting on what happens in the story from here on out. I think it makes it less impactful.

*Instead* I'm going to let you know that I'll probably be uploading something original to jukepop in the next week or so. I'll let you know by the next update, but basically I'm hoping to enter a writing contest in which whoever gets the most hits ends up with their story being in the library (or something? I'm not exactly sure).

I *hope* that a certain percentage of people here will read what I'm writing even if it's not about their favorite video game, though I have no delusions regarding that fact that some won't. REGARDLESS, I will keep you all posted.