Note: Part 2 of Gova's battle here! The first part of Angela and Duran's battles may be a bit shorter than the others, yet the highlight is coming in the next chapter. Also, this is a controversial decision, but I'm keeping the class descriptions in the story. I'll admit that it's for personal tastes, and while I'm trying to keep it relatively open to what form or style it could be seen in, I'll admit that sometimes, those old-school animes come to mind with attack shouts and long talking periods. Granted, there haven't been any attacks that have been vocalized save for Angela and Charlotte's, but I still wanted to give the story something of that feel to it. Again, it's a weird quirk of mine, but I've been an anime fan since grade school, and I sort of wanted to try my hand at getting that mood.
Also, I'll admit, I'm going to be giving Duran a little ability for one of his classes that isn't in either version of the game, yet I'll admit that I think it'll be fitting, both for the situation and from what sort of class it is.
And to finish this off, someone left a comment on the Ao3 version of this story that pointed out how my turning the Final Fantasy material into a joke for smut was tasteless, and, yeah, I don't know what I was thinking. I apologize for a poor attempt at humor with the Final Fantasy material before the group was in Valsena. True, I wanted the scenario to be the same, yet great stories and games like that deserve much more respect. Thus, names will be changed in that particular section eventually. I'm not sure when I'll get to it, yet it will be dealt with finally.
That said, I hope you enjoy it!
Gova Part 2
Gova dove forward at the young man but disappeared just mere inches away. Although a chill ran up Duran's spine, he turned around and saw the being had manifested from behind, ready to skewer him with his claws. The soldier backed up against the other side of the crow's nest to avoid the swiping motion and swung his sword in an upward arc, slicing the phantasmal phalanges from his hand. Not exactly caring for having those particular pieces of him removed (even if they formed back, that didn't make it hurt any less), Gova then lashed out against the solider with his other hand, this time clenching it in a fist and beating him back against the edge on the other side. Duran lifted his shield and blocked another punch coming his way, yet Gova kept applying pressure to the young man's means of defense.
"Kinda stupid getting so close like this," Duran said, though his words were strained. He needed to find an opening somewhere. "I could just run you through right here and now!" He ducked and thrust the blade upward, tearing through the specter and getting to the other side of the nest. Gova released a bowl of pain and doubled over. Duran rose and felt quite pleased with himself until he heard Gova chuckling. "The hell's so funny?"
The specter stopped, and while he couldn't see, Duran could visualize the wide grin on Gova's features, what little of them there were. "So caught up in getting in a shot, you didn't even notice." Before Duran could demand an explanation, Gova spoke for him. "Your blade, boy."
His blade, his father's blade, a blade that was no longer bathed in Lumina's light.
You've got to go! the young man heard Faerie say. You've got to get out of here!
He knew well what she meant; he had to escape. He had no line of defense against the fiend, and it wasn't as if Angela could just shoot him a little boost from below; she had her problems to deal with. But that in itself presented another dilemma. He would be running and running away like some sort of coward who'd turned craven in the face of the enemy.
You can't be serious! Faerie said in disbelief. You've got to get to safety! It's not as if you're abandoning the fight!
I know that! Duran argued back.
Then climb down! Please! Do something!
She was right, and he knew it well. And he also knew that a big part of his hesitation was ridiculous, not to mention downright foolish. He knew he had to survive, if not for himself, the world, and Faerie. And yet he still found himself stuck to that spot. Was he frightened? If he had to be honest, yes. Yet there was another fear at work in the young man's mind, a question that had lingered since he had first come out from below to clear his head.
What would his father say?
DURAN! Faerie yelled from within, this prompting the young man to take action finally.
And while he wasn't proud of it, he found himself forced to fight. Gova was taking delight in this, yet at the same time, he appeared thoughtful. Sure, now he had the mortal on the ropes, at his mercy, and yet, it'd just be so dull to strike him dead here and now. But, better yet, did he need the boy dead? True, the lad's quest had proven to conflict with his interests, yet still, the boy WAS going to retrieve such a vital artifact. An artifact that would perhaps, in some way, benefit himself in the future. Yet he would have to make it so that the young man would even bother listening to what he had to say.
And to do that, the last of the cursed ones had to go.
Down below, Angela blasted another Holy Bolt at the flying, formerly living youth. Matelo, in turn, sent dark energy her way, Angela dispelling those coming her way. Yet it was then that, before casting another spell, Angela found her body feeling more and more taxed as she continued.
Matelo ceased his attacks and observed her. "You appear to be worn down," he noted. "Is this the effect of using too much magic?" he asked, surprisingly no maliciousness in his voice. On the contrary, he appeared to be genuinely curious.
Angela could scarcely believe her ears. Was he for real?! Here he was, trying to kill her, and then he wanted something explained to him like she was his teacher?! Regardless of her feelings about the oddness of it all, Angela answered. "You could say that." Although she huffed, despite the chill in the air, the violet-haired magician had beads of sweat running down her forehead.
"Then there is a limit to magic. It lasts as long as you draw breath." Matelo grinned with pride. "But a spirit has no limits." he then drew closer. "I once wished to be like you, those that can harness forces beyond human understanding. Yet seeing you in this state makes me grateful that Master has provided me with the gift of death."
Angela scoffed. "Bet you think you're exceptional now, don't you? Couldn't just accept the fact that you weren't one of the lucky ones, so you decided to cheat your way into being a mage."
Matelo's lips tightened with anger, yet said anger quickly dissipated, a smile coming to his face. "You're one to talk, Princess." Angela's eyes widened. "That's right. I know of your little problem. The Master sensed it the second you boarded the ship. True, you may have been able to tap into powers greater than yourself, yet you cannot do it alone. You needed help."
Angela tightened the grip on her wand. "I...I don't know what you're talking about."
Matelo continued. "When I found the one I thought to be my Master in Beiser, I brought him back to my home. And while he didn't speak much, I heard him mumbling to himself when he believed I wasn't around." well, that confirmed the stalker-ish vibes Angela was getting from him. "He spoke of a 'disrespectful little brat' that had escaped him. How a useless wretch like her would be the ideal gift to the Stone." he then narrowed his eyes. "How she could only cast spells thanks to gifts from forces she didn't deserve to have laid before her. And don't bother denying it. I know well that he was talking about you."
Angela said nothing for a short time before she finally spoke again. "...so what?" she shot back.
"There's no difference between us, and you know it." Matelo retorted. "At least, there wasn't until now." He held up his hands, black spheres surging with electricity developing in his palms. "Because now, only one of us has limits!"
Angela cursed the ghost in her mind, yet she knew well that she was slowly reaching her limit. Yet she had to keep going. She and Duran were the only ones left; they had to figure this out somehow! She was going to let some stupid, magic-obsessed weirdo get the best of her! She had enough steam to show this whack job a thing or two! The only thing was, Matelo never sent those black orbs of darkness her way, his eyes on something going on high up.
"Yeah, right. No way I'm turning around." Angela said aloud, yet she heard wood beginning to splinter and crack, a loud crash echoing throughout the area.
It was then that she turned and saw, to her horror, the beam holding up the crow's nest be torn in two by a blast of dark magic cast by the spirit currently accosting Duran. The young man held onto the edge as best he could yet found that it wouldn't have mattered. The top half of the beam fell, taking Duran and the crow's nest with it. The massive part of the ship and the soldier were about to plunge into the ocean, yet Duran felt a sudden gust of wind underneath him, a cyclone of Sylphid's having caught him before he went overboard. Taking these crucial seconds to grab onto the side, the young man hoisted himself up and over; the crow's nest had begun to sink to the depths below.
Just the opportunity Matelo was looking for.
In the short period when Angela began to make her way towards Duran, who knelt on the deck, trying to catch his breath, the magician found an intense pain meeting her hand. A ball of dark energy struck her, causing her to release her wand unintentionally. Before she could go and retrieve it, another ball hit her in the chest, sending her flying back several feet, the young woman skidding until she came to a stop.
Duran was about to go to her aid, yet Gova manifested before him and, once again, conjured up his horn. Blowing into it, more ghosts emerged and surrounded the soldier, encircling him and giving him no chance to make his way toward Angela. Angela had then managed to rise to her feet, yet Matelo produced another dark force and hurled it in her direction, the concentrated, dark mass ramming into her chest and sending her back. She realized she was nearing the edge of the destroyed front of the ship, her ears registering the roaring waves below.
The ghosts surrounding Duran did nothing at first, only looking upon him with their peculiarly shaped eyes. The soldier found himself at a standstill, knowing well that he was powerless to do anything against these beings with a useless sword. Such a thing could be applied to his father's weapon, filled him with fury and disgrace.
Well, maybe it's not as hopeless as you think. He heard Faerie suggest. When you took advantage of the Mana Stone's power, you could apply different elements to your blade, right?
Duran thought about this. Yeah. And?
Why can't you just tap into Lumina's light that way?
Huh. True, while he hadn't tapped into it yet (the overwhelming aura surrounding the ship seemingly sapping everyone's strength, even his own), Duran couldn't see any reason that wouldn't potentially work. Thus, channeling the power he had left, Duran transformed into the gladiator, the ghosts backing off at the sudden influx of Mana energy they felt. Gova, too noticed this and observed closer, seeing the young mortal's new form.
"Well, well," the specter noted. "Did you keep this to yourself to make your allies feel better?"
Duran furrowed his brow. "You're going to wish I had kept this hidden." he then rose his sword up, and energy began to transfer to the blade immediately. Electricity, fire, ice, stone, all these shifted as Duran focused and tried to summon forth the same light that had coated his weapon before.
Only for nothing to happen.
"Wha...what the hell?" Duran kept holding his sword high, waiting for the familiar light to come, only for the blade to remain the same. "Hey, what's going on?! Why isn't it working?!"
"It's because you are aligned with an opposing direction," Gova stated, Duran completely confused, not to mention angry, the specter amused by this.
"What are you talking about?" then, Lumina manifested, glowering at Gova, yet then, a heavy sigh came from him.
"He means that you aren't able to access my powers the way you are now." the Light Elemental said. "Your class is aligned with the darkness."
"What?!"
Unfortunately, Duran got to ask no more, the ghosts opening their mouths and hands emerging from their throats to grab at the human. The gladiator was forced to the ground, the hands clutching at his wrists, trying to pry the blade from his hands. From between the crowding beings, he could see Angela being forced back further and further, trying to dodge the blasts from Matelo and make a grab for her wand. She took a step back yet found herself falling back, only to catch herself and step forward at the last moment. Looking back, she saw that she was at the edge of the destroyed forepeak, the unforgiving ocean roaring and splashing up against the ship below. The spectral young man threw another sphere of darkness in her direction, Angela knowing well that she only had one shot at this. It would be risky, yet she had no other option.
Ducking down, the Princess rolled out of the way and then sprung to her feet, dashing forward and doing her best to try and maneuver out of the incoming blasts, said blasts tearing up the deck and leaving circular indents in the floorboards. Further, Angela finally reached her wand and held it tightly, casting Holy Bolt. The incoming blast was dissipated, along with the several others sent her way. Yet despite her and Matelo now being on equal ground, she still felt her body growing weary from the continuous use of magic without any rest. And, to her horror, upon casting another Holy Bolt, the once wide beam was little more than a thin, glowing line.
"It seems you've run out of steam," Matelo noted, folding his arms. He drew closer to Angela, the magician feeling the railing meet her back. The bastard had her at his mercy once again. He lifted his hand, another concentrated orb of darkness forming, this one a good deal smaller than the others. She readied herself, yet instead of being aimed right towards her, it was aimed to her side, taking out the section of railing to her left. The same was done to the right; Angela was puzzled as to what exactly her aggressor was planning. It was then that she felt it, the cold grasping at her chest. Her hourglass had begun to crack.
Duran then heard the splitting of wood, and, from in between the ghosts currently accosting him, he saw the violet-haired young woman be sent back by another blast, crashing through the railing and falling to the waters below.
"ANGELA!" Duran hollered, finally finding an open space in between the ghosts. Although not exactly prepared for the sudden bolt, the ghost's hands couldn't hold onto him; the soldier charged forward, Matelo watching as he dove off the ship, splashing in the wild waves.
The water was beyond freezing; he had to get to the surface to catch his breath quickly. Yet he found himself being weighed down, his armor not allowing him to rise fast enough. Try as he might, he couldn't get up, and he realized that, unless he wanted to drown, he had to discard the extra weight. Somewhat clumsily, he removed his pauldrons, bracers, and his shield, yet found he could keep the helmet, a discovery he was pleased with. At the same time, he regarded his armor as his second skin. It gave him a sense of power and, perhaps most of all, security. But he dared not release his father's sword from his person.
Finally breaking the surface, Duran looked all around with terrified eyes. "Angela!? Angela!" He called out, growing more terrified the longer he looked, not seeing any sign of her. "Angela, please answer me!"
It was then that he heard heavy breathing, and upon turning around, he saw the form of the Princess with her head above the water, barely keeping afloat. Duran wasted no time and swam over to her, taking hold of her deathly chilled body. "D-Duran?" Angela croaked.
"Yeah, it's me," Duran assured her. "Just hold tight, ok? We're-" he was interrupted by salty water rushing into his mouth. "We're gonna get back on the ship."
"It...it's cold." the Princess shivered, clinging to the soldier holding her. Duran could already feel her, yet unlike his current state, the cold he was feeling on her, and even though he didn't entirely understand it, he knew that her temperature was unnatural. She was breathing, yet this icy feeling...despite his ability to feel her heart beating, he knew she didn't have much longer. "It's so cold…"
"Then here!" Duran held her tighter. It was futile, he knew, yet he cursed that he couldn't do something. "Is that better?" he didn't hear a response from her. "Angela?"
The young woman had closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder. "...you're warm." she weakly spoke. "I'm so tired…"
"Then rest for a bit," Duran told her, even if the added weight didn't exactly do much to keep him afloat. Nevertheless, he swam towards the ship, trying to keep his and Angela's heads above water. He couldn't hear her hourglass slowly breaking apart over the waves, yet her body was growing colder and colder as they went along. "H-Hold on," Duran said, taking in some water and choking a bit. "We're heading back to the ship. You'll be fine. Every-glug-one will be fine."
Whether out of tiredness or in an attempt to absorb more warmth off him, Angela buried her face in the crook of Duran's neck, the young man surprised by both her action and the ticklish sensation her breath created. "You…" she wearily sighed. "I mean...not saying you can't, but...are you still going to save everyone?" How much had she worn herself out, Duran thought. She was speaking as if just barely veering on the edge of sleep. Still, upon not hearing an answer from him, she asked again. "Are you?"
"Y-Yes," Duran said. "I said I would. And, glug! I mean that!"
"...ok." Angela's eyes drooped, her body growing limp. "You...you shouldn't just go for me first." she sighed. "Save...everyone else."
"What do you mean?" the soldier was confused.
"They…they're more important," she said. "I...I'm a…" she coughed, expelling the water that rushed into her mouth. "I'm...not...not good for…," she murmured. "Mother...doesn't even...love…."
"Angela, hang in there!" Duran commanded, even if it was a disguised plea. "We're almost to the ship! We're...glug! We're going to go...and we're gonna-glug-gonna kick that ghost's ass! Just you wait!"
Angela's grip began to grow weak. "It...it's sort of fitting. This being my end." she chuckled, despite the situation. "But…" she wrapped her arms around the young man. "At least...you're here. With...me."
"Angela, what are you…." Duran looked and saw her eyes had grown dull. "Angela? Angela?!"
Then, her body stiffened, and a familiar, glowing orb exited from her mouth. Unlike the others, this one gravitated towards Duran, nestling in the crook of his neck the same way Angela had been.
"Angela…" Duran reached for it, but suddenly, a ghostly claw emerged from the waves below, catching both his and Angela's spirits and her body. Being drawn back to the ship, Duran struggled to keep himself close, yet he and the Princess's corpse were tossed unceremoniously to the deck while, like the others, Angela was too consumed by Gova.
And upon taking in the latest soul, Gova looked down at the last of the six youths. "And soon, there was only one…."
Duran was trying to make himself appear enraged and stalwart in front of the spirit, yet ultimately, he couldn't conceal his terror, both at his predicament and that of his comrades.
Yet Matelo thought what his Master said was quite peculiar. "Only one?"
"Yes." Gova nodded. "One." he then extended his hand towards the formerly living young man. "It has been a joy working with you," he then spread out his fingers, displaying his white palm. "But I think I must let you go from your position."
Matelo could scarcely believe what he had just heard. "You...you can't mean…" soon, the ghost's humanoid appearance began to change. "W-Wait!" he cried out. "Wait! Master, please! Wait!" Duran was left shocked at what he saw; the once detailed shape of Matelo was compressed and twisted, turning this way and that until he had essentially been crushed into another glowing orb. Said orb tried to flee but was caught by Gova, who promptly devoured it.
Gova then centered his attention back on Duran. "NOW there is only one." the spirit smirked when Duran drew his sword. "Even with that blade, I see you tremble." Duran clenched his teeth, the chill of the ocean water still plaguing him. He was about to retort, yet Gova continued. "Relax. I have no intention of killing you. I'm rather grateful that your Faerie partner is with you."
Faerie emerged, against her better judgment. "What are you talking about?"
Gova seemed bemused. "Why, if I had taken your soul, I would've robbed us of our chances to set the world right."
Duran and Faerie were left speechless. "What did you say?" Duran questioned. "What do you mean set the world right?"
"Indeed, what do I mean?" Gova repeated. "Well, I suppose my reasoning is a bit complicated to understand for one of the mortal realms," Duran growled, this pleasing Gova. "So I'll explain it to you in the simplest terms." He drew closer to the young soldier. "I know how the seals on the Benevodons are weakening, as well as how Mana is being drained from the world."
"And why would that be a concern for you?" Faerie asked. "You've already shown that you place no value on life."
"On the contrary, I value life very much." Gova countered. "After all, how can one value death without life? I merely advocate for exercising the control due to one that rules over the departed," he explained. "But should the Benevodons be freed, then...well, I don't think I need to tell you that life would be much harder for the people of this world."
"And again, why would you be concerned?" Faerie asked again.
"Because the Benevodons will destroy everything. Whether in remaking the world for themselves or fighting over it and killing each other, the result will be the same. Despite what you may believe, I know well the balance that must be maintained between the two planes of life and death. Too much of either leads to complications in the general function of things.
Thus, I propose to you a deal." he then produced two large hourglasses that resembled those that once hung over the chests of his allies. One appeared to be a winged figure with a tail inside, wings folded inward as if the creature was sleeping, while the other had six small souls floating around and flying against their prison to try and get out. "Here is my former Master." Gova held up the hourglass with the creature.
"Shade…" Faerie muttered, shocked that the Elemental had been trapped in such a way.
"Indeed." the white specter answered. He then shook the hourglass. "Well, come on. Say hello." Shade didn't move, staying in his closed-up form, still and silent. "Fine. Be like that." Gova hissed, turning his attention to the other hourglass. "Besides, I think I know which one you're more interested in."
"Let them go!" Duran demanded, this only seeming to amuse Gova further.
"We all know there is nothing you can do to free them." the specter stated. "Yet what you can do is ensure they shall once again be among the living, should you accept my offer."
"The hell I will!" Duran shot back. "You-" he was about to step forward but drew back upon Gova's claws applying pressure to the glass holding the souls. The soldier knew he was being told to make his next move VERY carefully. He hated being at this being's mercy, yet ultimately, it seemed there was no other option. "...what do you want?"
The specter was pleased. "Good boy." Gova smiled. "Now, as I was saying," he continued. "The world can't fall into the hands of the Benevodons; you and both know that. Lest Her Worship restarts the entire world all over again."
Duran's eyes widened. "What?"
"Yes, the ground you stand on, the ocean that separates the peoples, the flora and fauna that reside in the diverse lands, oh yes. There is nothing new here. It's all been done before, and, should the Benevodons get out, it will be remade again." he then shifted his red eyes. "Or maybe not." he then looked back at Duran. "Your Faerie friend knows what I'm talking about. The Mana Tree is dying, the Goddess is dying, and thus, Mana, the very source of life in the world, is dying. Death itself is drawing closer and closer to us all."
"N-No." Faerie shook her head. "No, you're wrong! The Goddess won't die! She can't!"
"Oh, but She can." Gova chuckled. "And at this point, it won't be long until she does. Without her, all life in the world will fade away; every living thing with a piece of her within shall fade away, everything returning to the void from which reality was once birthed. And that's the worst-case scenario. Assuming that life under the Benevodons and their whims is any better." he continued on. "And if you think I'm exaggerating, I'll have you know that I'm telling you what no one else will. I was there when the Benevodons first terrorized all life of the first world; I saw the death and destruction they wrought. I was among the living then." his eyes then grew solemn, if not somewhat reflective. "I was among those that became the playthings of those abominations." he then gestured to the hourglass containing the souls. "This is an act of kindness compared to what any of those beings could do."
Duran and Faerie were left without words, not entirely comprehending what the specter had just told them. A million questions flooded the human's mind: what was the first world like? How was it exactly destroyed? Why did he never know about it? Better yet, did Faerie and the other Elementals know of this? From what he remembered, Koren had mentioned something of a 'first world,' but that pompous bastard couldn't have found that out himself as powerful as he claimed to be. No, not something like that. He had to have learned this from someone. Someone who, like Gova, knew far more than most about the Benevodons. The question was, who could that be?
Still, with all this going on in his head, Duran asked one particular thing. "If all of this is true, why do you want me?"
Gova smirked. "I'm glad you asked." He gestured to the young man. "It may have been by happenstance, but one of the Goddess' offspring has attached herself to you, and thus, you have been recognized by Her as the one to hold the Mana Sword. It was not Faerie that had only chosen you. The Goddess, through her, sensed and decided that you would be the one to wield the sacred weapon. Essentially, your winged friend here has doomed you to this task and the hardships that will come with it."
Duran looked at Faerie, the blonde, more petite woman biting her lip. "I...I didn't know it would lead to that at first," she said. "I just wanted to go to Wendel to ask for help."
"It's fine," Duran told her; this answer shocked her. "I told you, I…" he paused for a moment, still not entirely believing it, even now, that he was even doing this. Let alone if he could do it. Then, shaking his uncertainty off, he directed his attention back to Gova. "Ok, yeah. I'm the one that'll hold the Mana Sword. Why does that concern you?"
"It concerns me, for as Master of the Dead, I must have the living so that I can collect and rule over them." the specter explained. "Thus, the Benevodons cannot get free. Something that you wish to prevent as well." he then extended the two hourglasses to Duran. "Thus, here is my proposal." Duran cursed him, having no choice but to listen at this point. "You shall go and convince the other Elementals to join your cause, and then, once you reach the Mana Holyland, you shall take the Mana Sword and put a stop to such a disaster." Gova then gave the hourglass with the souls inside a shake. "If you take my offer, your friend's souls shall be returned to their bodies, and they shall go on to live their natural lives."
Duran sensed there was a 'but' in there. "And?"
"And nothing," Gova said simply. "We both get what we want." he then gave the hourglass with Shade inside a slight shake. "I already have my former Master at the ready to assist you, so if I lose, you lose. If I win, then so do you. Everything keeps spinning." he then drew closer. "You don't want the world to end any more than I do." he then pulled back.
Faerie looked at her host. "I don't like this…."
"Me neither." Duran agreed. He then turned back to Gova. "And, how do we know you'll keep your word?"
Gova smiled. "You don't," he admitted. "But the question is whether or not you can afford to allow distrust to choose for you." Duran's eyes fell on Angela, as well as the others. "The decision is ultimately yours. I cannot make up your mind for you. But I would suggest making it soon." the red eyes looked to each of the motionless bodies of the other five youths. "Lest I find better uses for them. Specifically their blood and bodies."
Note: I'm cutting it off here as I don't want to squeeze in the rest and have it too short. Again, so sorry if this seems to be dragging, yet Duran's dilemma here WILL be referenced later, specifically at a critical point in the story.
Also, class change is coming up next! I'm trying to make the class changes reflect the character's current emotional states and symbolize their growth whenever they transform.
That said, thank you so much for sticking with me for this long! Ciao!
