“You made me… your weapon! You made me kill these people!”

The Vision Stone was cracked, a sliced that cut straight through the clear, flat face in the place where the rift had once reflected in blue light. The soft glow of the crystal spluttered, broken, weakening from its cankerous wound. No longer would it protect these lands… lands now marred by the darkness and the mists. Its power was waning. The Stone was covered in blood.

And the last gift it gave was the deepest, most terrible curse upon the one that had struck it.

Luccious lifted the two broken bodies in his arms, hugging them to his chest one at a time. But both were limp and lifeless. Their spirits had been ripped from their flesh, trapped within the mists, just as his own sanity had become.

They were dead. NaDo. Maru.

He couldn’t remember who else. Everything had happened in a terrible blur of raging power and destruction. He knew people were dead, though. And they were dead because of him.

As the Stone’s last light gave his mind a momentary clarity, the Sygnus collapsed next to the two unmoving bodies. He sobbed and wailed brokenly, like a child, his fingers tearing at the blood-stained grass.

Luccious had become the very Bane that the people had fearfully foretold. Now the people that he had love most were dead. And he was alone.

-Why do you cry, my son?- the hissing voice crept into his mind. -They have given their lives to give you power… to a bigger and better plan. To our domination.-

He lifted his tear-streaked face as the darkness began to take shape and grow solid. What appeared there was not person nor Arweinydd. Whatever had been Zerom once, so long ago, was consumed by the Chaos and the Hatred. And now, that Hatred had become a part of Luccious, too.

“You made me… your weapon! You made me kill these people!” Luccious’ voice started out low, growing in strength.

-I gave you the power to reach for your own destiny. I did not control what you did with it,- the voice told him smoothly.

“You knew this would happen! You knew what it would drive me to do!” he struggled to his feet, fists balling. “I would never have hurt them! I would–”

-Why? Because you loved them?- Zeromus sneered. -Do you really think they had any love for you? Do you really think that a monster like you can be loved? Do you really fool yourself to believe that you deserve their love?-

A low laughter rang in his ears. Tears streamed, hot and furious down Luccious’ face.

-Love is an illusion for the weak, Luccious. And we… are not the weak,- the voice goaded him smugly.

“No…” Luccious answered, suddenly finding the cold grip of the black blade in his palm. “We’re not the weak.”

Silver eyes flashed with a terrible wrath as the Sygnus leapt forward, lunging towards the gloating figure. The slender blade struck, hissing and crackling with fury, ripping down through the darkness, splattering black ooze and hissing shadows across the silent glade.

Luccious’ cry of redemption mingled with Zeromus’ screech of shock and pain, echoing from the darkness of the overhanging sky.

Then with one final flicker, the blue light of the Vision Stone faded upon the old world.

{——————}

Zemi had walked for what felt like an eternity. His form that had once been tireless, flawless and so formidable now flickered and faltered. He was growing weaker — he could feel it in every inch of his being.

His power was linked to the Nefolian world, a world that was now far, far away. He was bound to the energy of that living planet. Together, he and that world had developed and grown strong. He had become a Patron, a defender of the creatures of that land.

But that was all gone now.

This strange, new world, felt nothing at all like his home planet. There was life and beauty there. Peace and silence. But the connection that had once strengthened him was gone. And his people… they were gone, too.

The Dreigiau carried the limp form of SoYa in his arms. Something had happened when they stepped through the rift. Something unexpected and awful. There had been a cracking sound and a bright light — when Zemi was finally able to gather his awareness, he had found himself there, alone, with only SoYa at his side.

But SoYa wasn’t the same. He hadn’t stirred or shown signs of waking, but Zemi could feel it. The wings that had once graced the Athrylith’s shoulders were gone. Simply gone, ripped away, as if he had never been Awakened at all. And the feeling around SoYa was distant, like a stranger. As if Zemi had never been his Patron… as if there had not been a connection between them all this time.

In the drifting patterns of the Athrylith’s dreams, Zemi could sense the same thing. Memories had dulled and vanished, a whole lifetime of experiences unmade and torn from SoYa’s mind. It was the last strike of the Sygnus — if he could not destroy the Nefolians in body, he would erase their knowledge and destroy the connection to their Patron from the inside out.

And if this had happened to one as strong of mind as SoYa, there was little doubt that the rest of the people, wherever they had ended up, were in the same state or worse. There would be no finding them all… no reestablishing things. Not easily. Not now.

Perhaps… it’s better this way.

It was a terrible, anguished thought. Still, as Zemi peered down into SoYa’s sleeping face, he couldn’t help but wonder if the people of the Inner Realms would have been better off without the intrusion of Arweinydd.

All we have caused is their death and destruction. Now they have no home. They have no past. They, too, are alone in the loss of their identity.

A long, ragged breath escaped Zemi’s lips.

I made a promise to watch over Zento’s son and keep him safe. I will fill that promise…

He stopped walking, having reached his destination.

Maybe the only way I can keep them safe is by not being here at all.

Slumping to his knees, the Dreigiau gathered them both into his arms.

Zemi’s teal eyes lowered, falling on the tiny curled up form in the grass. AsaHi. She, too, was without wings. But still radiant. Still beautiful. Just the same as the first day he saw her. Something in his heart ached as he knelt down, placing SoYa at her side.

Slumping to his knees, the Dreigiau gathered them both into his arms. They had been his people… his children to guide. And he had failed them.

I will make sure… if you have nothing else left, that you will have each other.

Though he felt himself weakening, the Arweinydd reached around them, gathering the last of his power. And within that embrace, he wove a new knowledge for them. The distant memories of each other. The love that they had shared. And the courage they possessed to stand by one another, no matter the dangers they had faced.

Zemi’s form began to flicker and shimmer, tiny particles of light drifting upon the alien winds. When he no longer had the strength to hold him, he laid them down in the grass, side by side. And with a tired and sorrowful breath, the Dreigiau faded away.

{————–}

He opened his eyes. The world blurred around, vision swimming. His mind was cloudy, waking very slowly. He pushed himself up on his hands, feeling the cool blades of grass under his fingers. Then he peered around.

He wasn’t sure where he was or how he had gotten there. But it didn’t seem like a bad place to wake up. Everything was quiet. It smelled of earth and flowers and trees. He heard the buzzing of busy insects as they made their rounds over the fern-like bushes. Somewhere not too far away he could hear the sound of running water.

A water splash across the face sure did sound like a good idea.

As he rolled over to look around, he noticed he was not alone. A girl was curled up in the grass beside him. He was surprised at his feeling of surprise regarding this fact — was it odd to find a girl sleeping in the grass? Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. Afterall, everything felt somewhat odd about this situation.

He leaned over her to get a better look at her face. It was obscured by waves of pale white hair. Specks of grass and flower petals dotted the soft strands making her feel like something that belonged there. Something of the natural world.

He reached his hand forward to pull her hair from her face and paused upon the sight of his fingertips. They were a dark color, almost as if they were dirty. But he knew they were not. The color didn’t burn or hurt. He sniffed it and it didn’t smell funny. But there it was, on his hands. So strange. Just like everything else.

While he had been inspecting his fingers, the girl began to stir. She slowly rolled over, bright green eyes fluttering open. It took her a moment until her vision focused, peering up at his face.

He had expected her to respond in surprise — afterall, he would have been surprised if someone had been staring down on him when he had wakened. But she didn’t. Instead, she gave a wide, beautiful smile.

“SoYa?” she asked.

“SoYa?” she asked.

He blinked once. Then realized that was his name. And that he knew her name, too.

“AsaHi?” he asked in a similar tone.

“Hi..?” she answered, looking a little shy.

“Hi?” he responded, brushing the stray curly hair from his eyes.

AsaHi reached up and stroked her fingers through his hair, moving along with his own fingers. Then she pushed herself to sit up next to him.

The sound of voices carried along the breeze. There were other people here, somewhere. SoYa could feel them. Sense them. He didn’t know how he knew. He just did. The feeling of slight confusion and wonderment. People waking up, just as they had.

“There’s other people here,” AsaHi gave him a quizzical look.

“I know,” he told her and nodded.

Then he got to his feet and helped her up. As he began to walk forward, he sensed something funny. Looking down, he could see AsaHi’s little hand wrapped around his own.

And something about that felt just right.

{——-}

The sound of the ocean was more mournful now, though Oren couldn’t understand why. The darkness had lifted from the forests, but even so, had left only a pale shadow of what the land had once been. As he rode along, even Drok seemed restless, ears twitching in nervous agitation.

Something really bad has happened here… I just wish I knew what it was.

He knew it had to do with the strange white haired people. Even after the KoGuRai creature had been slain, they were always in a huge bustle to get one place or another. But no one had stopped and taken the time to explain what the trouble was.

Just like the people of the Inner Realms. Thinking they’re so much above the rest of us because of their wings.

The people of the Spiral had also been on the prowl, heading further south than Oren had ever seen. The golden haired men were never one for conversation, though, and didn’t offer any information either. They just seemed to be searching and searching…

Whatever they were looking for, they don’t seem to be finding it.

Drok suddenly lurched to a stop, nearly sending Oren sprawling over his neck.

“Hey! Hey! What do you call that!” he complained, punking the creature on the shoulder lightly. “You need to warn me before you do something like that!”

Drok simply shook his head all the more and snorted. Squinting up the steep incline towards the forest, Oren could make out a glimmer of something white along the stones. Swinging down from his mount, he frowned and began to make his way towards it.

“You stay here,” he said back over his shoulder. “Not like you’d move anywhere anyway. Lazy thing.”

The closer Oren climbed, the more his astonishment rose. Soon his eyes could pick out the features of a person. A white-haired woman. Someone he knew all too well.

“Well, now. If this isn’t déjà vu,” he murmured under his breath.

Kneeling down, he checked her over for any sign of injury. She was still breathing. She didn’t seem hurt. But the wings that she once had… they were missing. Simply gone.

Something strange is definitely going on here.

Something strange is definitely going on here.

Oren pursed his lips and gathered her into his arms. Carefully he picked his way back down the incline towards where Drok was waiting.

The creature flicked its ears forward with an expression of smug expectation.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re good,” Oren huffed, securing the woman on Drok’s back. “Let’s get her back to the camp and see if we can figure out what happened.”

Camp wasn’t too far away. It was mostly a cave they had found in the side of the stone near the ocean. It was somewhat damp and the fire could be stubborn at times, but there wasn’t much more one could expect when it was high tide.

Oren covered her in a hide blanket, did his best to make her comfortable among the saddle bags and put some fish on the fire to fry. He hoped that the smell of food would bring her around — she didn’t look like she had eaten in far too long.

Eventually, hunger must have taken its toll, because she did start to stir. He leaned forward to watch her, a big grin spread across his face.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he teased.

Expecting a disgruntled jab in return, he braced himself. But she merely blinked at him in confusion.

“JouKa?” gave her a concerned look.

She didn’t respond to her name.

“JouKa?” he asked again.

This time, she turned to him and asked slowly, “Do ya mean me?”

“Yeah,” Oren frowned. “That’s your name. JouKa. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh. Yes… of course,” she answered. “JouKa.”

Drok gave a concerned snuff from the far corner of the room.

“’Oo are you?” JouKa asked with a moment of hesitation.

He blinked, then gave a wide joking grin to cover his own worry, “I’m Oren. I’m the love of your life!”

Certainly THAT will get a reaction!

Her mouth opened wide. But instead of the customary shout, she mused in wonderment, “Really?”

Oren fell over backwards in shock, nearly upsetting the frying fish. When he uprighted himself, he waved his hands around, “Okay! Now I KNOW you’re really sick!”

JouKa looked down at herself, clutching the hide blanket tighter about her shoulders. “I… don’t think I’m sick.”

“Then, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she told him.

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened? Was there a fight?”

“I don’t know!” this time tears began to shimmer in her eyes.

“Whoa! Whoa! Wait… I didn’t mean it like that!” he waved his hands around.

Good job you insensitive lug!

There was a long uncomfortable silence. Then he scrubbed his fingers through his hair and slowly slid over to sit next to her.

“Look,” Oren said. “It’s okay if you don’t know.”

“It is?” she asked with a sad face.

“Yeah. It’s fine. You’ll be alright,” he promised her. “I’ll take care of you and we’ll figure this all out. Okay?”

JouKa didn’t say anything. She just nodded and leaned her head against Oren’s broad shoulder.

SCORE!

He couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face. Drok gave him a long, flat stare.

Oren cleared his throat and motioned forward, “So. Uh. I hope you like fish? How about some?”

The Sygnus’ long silver hair swayed with a ghostly quality, blending into the flow of mist that billowed around him.

“Lucci! Lucci, you CAN’T do this!” Kaz’s voice pleaded from behind him. The cry was so desperate. So hoarse and filled with fear. It was so unlike how his friend usually sounded.

Lucci turned, pausing just a moment on the long, broken stairway to look back. The Sygnus’ long silver hair swayed with a ghostly quality, blending into the flow of mist that billowed around him, gleaming along the outline of his tall silver wings. The mist was always there now. They were always there in the mist. There was no getting rid of Them.

No running away from what he was. They had traveled long across the now-barren lands of the Inner Realms, all the way to the darkened heart of Nefol. There was no turning back. He knew what he had to do.

“I have to stop him,” Lucci answered in a boyish way. But his voice was not a child’s voice anymore – he was no longer the boy that Kaz had guided. “There’s only one way. You know that.”

“No… Lucci… look at yourself!” the spirit motioned with both hands. “This sword… these wings… You’re not thinking straight!”

“I’m fine!” the Sygnus snapped back with a tone he had never used with his friend before. Instantly, something deep inside him felt ashamed. And he lowered his voice. “When I get done, it’ll be over with, Kaz. Then no one will have to be afraid anymore.”

Kaz just looked stunned. And older somehow. His eyes were sad, ringed with worry and the inability to stop what he saw unfolding before him. But he tried one last time, “Please, Lucci-boy. Come home with me.”

It was the wrong thing to say. And the spirit realized it with a blanch the moment that the silver light sparked in the Sygnus’ eyes.

“Home?” Lucci flourished the long slender sword in one fist. It gave off a cold and victorious light, feeding into the mists. Into the chill that surrounded the silver-haired young man. “Home? In case you didn’t notice, there is no home to go back to. The Islands have fallen! Wyndor will be next! There will be nowhere to go to! This has got to be stopped!”

Without further words, the Sygnus wheeled around and began to storm up the stairs once more. The structure that loomed before him was tall, tilted to one side and cracked up and down its length. It was what was left of the once-great Spire of Nefol. But now that the Inner Realms had completely fallen under the sway of Zeromus’ taint and darkness, there was little left of the former beauty and light of the land.

If he was nervous about what he knew was coming, Lucci didn’t show it. He simply gripped the long dark blade in one hand. With the other hand he adjusted the shoulder of his light armor… which he had pieced together from plates that belonged to people three sizes smaller than him.

Not as if that matters now. I doubt I’m going to be walking away from this fight.

Zeromus.

He was the cause of every pain, darkness and death that the Sygnus had known. Time after time. Battle after battle. Little by little… the dark, ruthless force had chipped away at the last of the light, held within the people of the Dreigiau. And now, with Ceiswyr gone, hope had plummeted, just like the Islands from the sky.

But now that I have this sword… I can defeat him. Whether or not he really is my…

All of his life, Lucci had been treated as the Bane. The one that would tear the world he loved apart. Because he was a Sygnus — a child of the heavens and the earth. Possessing unknown powers, wrapped in the cold child of death itself. And because his father was said to be Zeromus, the Hatred.

But none of that mattered now. Whether or not the people of Ceiswyr believed in him. Whether or not he had any chance against the shadow that was so much greater than him. He was going to fight it. Just like he promised Lord Zemi he would.

And maybe then… they’ll like me.

The way ahead was blocked at the top of the stairs. But this did not concern Lucci. The huge doors crashed inwards at a flick of his hand. The rock cracked and crumpled into a pile on the other side of the doorway as if it was nothing more than brittled bread. He stepped over it, his tall black boots crushing down on the rubble as if he bore an immense and invisible weight.

Kaz had stopped, frozen on the other side of the doorway. Lucci didn’t say anything, but he could feel the lack of his guide behind him. In response to his thoughts, an answer came, low and sad.

“I am not strong enough to enter Zeromus’ Keep. This is as far as I can go, Lucci-boy,” the spirit intoned with a heavy sound. Unshed tears glittered in his eyes… if such a thing could really exist within one that had passed into the Mists.

“Thank you for everything, Kaz,” the young Sygnus paused. He looked back a last time, wishing he had not. The sight of tears was almost too much for him. Almost enough to make the child he once was want to rush back and embrace his old friend. Steeling his emotions, he pursed his lips instead. “I won’t forget…”

Lucci could hear the sound of Kaz’s weeping as he turned away again, “I won’t forget you… either… Lucci-boy…”

As he walked, the anguished sound was soon swallowed up within the pressing darkness that surrounded him. The only light was the swirling of the silver mists and the dim glow that trickled from his wings. Even that seemed to struggle to remain. Breath also came hard in the depths of the Spire, as the very air there was too tainted and decayed to breathe.

The young Sygnus couldn’t see where his steps were leading him. All he had was the depths of his senses. The overwhelming knowledge of where his enemy, his father, was.

If Zeromus could be called a father at all.

I was nothing to him… nothing but a weapon.

Lucci sucked in a long breath, pausing as a shaft of light appeared somewhere in the distance. The first thing that he had seen since entering the structure.

A low hiss echoed across the darkness of the chamber. In the lone shaft of light, Lucci could see the hunched forms of shadows loping towards him. Only the slightest glimmer of black eyes, then they were gone. The room was filled with the sound of animalistic hisses and half screeches.

The Marked! They weren’t supposed to be here! I thought they’d all be in the Spiral!

The creatures of Zeromus were awake and on the prowl. Though usually the Marked were very little challenge for him – in fact, they were often too scared of Lucci to even attack him – these advanced with a particularly aggressive air.

There’s a lot of them… this could be a problem.

Claws and fangs gleamed sharply as they paced just on the fringe of the shrinking cloud of mist around the Sygnus’ feet. What had once been whole and healthy creatures… people… animals… were now nothing but decayed, mindless husks of their former life.

I should have known Zeromus wouldn’t leave himself unguarded.

Lucci had fought his share of Marked … but now he was on Zeromus’ turf where these creatures were fed directly with the dark power. And Marked were notorious for inhuman strength and speed.

I wonder if they’ll attack. And if they do… can I beat them?

The stench of decay grew too overwhelming for Lucci to bear. He drew his collar up over his nose, backing away slowly, his blade held tightly in his other hand. His silver eyes darted around, looking for anything he could use to his advantage. But there was nothing. Nothing but darkness and the wicked things that grew there.

The Marked began to fret and hiss as he moved. Some lashed at his feet with black dripping claws, reeling back as the silver mists turned away their strikes. They shrieked from it, like a creature scathed. And began to strike more fiercely at the offending mist, advancing closer and closer towards Lucci.

Suddenly, a tremendous, soul-freezing sound shattered the air. A large winged shadow swept out from walls of darkness, alighting deftly in the center of the streaming light. Another shriek erupted from its mouth as it raised a flashing, black-bladed scythe over its head. A weapon that was all too familiar to the young Sygnus.

“M…Master… TsuYa?” Lucci staggered back at the sight. For the first time, real fear began to break through his façade of bravery.

The rest of the Marked scattered at the sound of the great shriek, commanded back to their darkness once again. It was obvious that the winged Champion held a lot of power over the lesser creatures. Once the other Marked were gone, the vicious black eyes focused on Lucci. The young Sygnus recoiled more — this creature was hardly like the Master TsuYa he remembered.

Last time I saw him… he was Marked but…

The winged Marked was far larger than Lucci remembered, wrapped in the drape of cloth that had been torn and shredded where his form had out-grown it in places. His skin was a dead grey color and mottled with seething gashes of ooze where many thick black spikes had erupted through his flesh. His hair was also dark, except for the one shock of white that fell across his brow and partly obscured his face. Wide wings of black spread from his shoulders, dripping in decay.

Lucci’s stomach twisted in revulsion and grief. One of the things he had hoped to do by facing Zeromus was to free his former teacher from the curse of the Marked.

But maybe… I’m too late now.

“Put the sword down, boy,” TsuYa’s lips curled back, a showing of fangs. His clawed hands gripped the scythe in warning.

Lucci suddenly realized that he was holding his own weapon ready, as if to take on the Marked Champion. Just as quickly, he dropped the point, shivering to think what might happen should he go head to head with Master TsuYa’s battle prowess.

“That’s better.”

“You can still… talk?”

Another snarl, “Of course I can.”

“Master TsuYa, I–”

“That’s not my name anymore,” a low growl erupted from behind black eyes.

Lucci took a step back in surprise. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Afterall, if he wasn’t supposed to call Master TsuYa by his own name, he didn’t know what to call him.

“Nevermind,” the Champion gave a snuff, grounding the butt of his scythe by his boot. “Follow me. Master Zeromus is expecting you.”

“You mean… you’re going to take me to him?” the Sygnus asked.

“Those were my orders.”

“Oh?” Lucci said, feeling the prickle of unease over his skin.

But before he could ask any more questions, Master TsuYa was already on the move, heading towards the single dark outline of an arched doorway ahead. The Sygnus followed quickly, not wanting to be left behind when the other Marked crept out once again.

Unlike the previous chambers, this one was alight with an eerie silver glow. A familiar sort of light – the kind that Lucci always saw in the mists around him. Only, this silver didn’t belong to him. Or the mists. It was something else. And as he stepped inside, he could see that the glow was contained in a large glass-like globe.

But Zeromus was nowhere to be found.

“What is this?” the Sygnus asked, turning towards the Champion.

The way that the silver reflected off of Master TsuYa’s hollow eyes was unnerving. Just as unnerving as the silence. The winged Marked said nothing. He simply back-stepped out of the room. Before Lucci could argue, the arched doorway shut with a thunderous sound, leaving no spot in the wall that showed there had ever been a door before.

“WAIT!” Lucci shouted, fear beginning to bubble up within him. He pounded on the wall with one fist. But it was closed solid. “Master TsuYa! Don’t leave me here!”

There was nothing but silence as his answer.

Maybe there’s another way out…

Lucci peered around the strange chamber cautiously. His limbs felt suspended and his motions, even walking, odd and under-watery. Light seemed to flicker through draping veils of various color from above, casting skittering shadows upon the wall. The floor under his feet, looking to have once been polished to a shine, was far too grimy now to give up his reflection.

The humid stench of death and long-rot draped over the room, seeping into his pores. Death of a very violent nature. Long, stiff figures lay crumpled against the far wall, some seeping dark pools that charted rivers across the grimy floor. Faceless, they were covered in long white squares of cloth, bearing the splattered remembrance of once-living things.

Why does this place feel so familiar…?

In the center of the room was a display of technological wonder. Everything about it was eerily alien — a strange spiral of life tangled within death. The structure emanated a pale, ghostly light as if infused by the lost souls of the pooling figures on the far side of the chamber.

Why do I think that I’ve been here before?

“Because,” a distant voice rose to greet him. A voice that he knew without knowing. “This was the place where you came into existence, LuShi.”

The Sygnus turned quickly, gripping his sword more tightly. “Zeromus.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Come out and show yourself!” Lucci grounded his teeth, turning around again. There was no sight of the bearer of the voice.

“My son… Are you so ready to take this step without knowing all there is to know?”

He shook his head, “I’ve seen enough. I know enough. And I’m not your son!”

“You can deny many things about yourself, child. But you cannot deny that,” the voice chuckled softly. It was so calm. Bearing so little ill will.

But Lucci knew it had to be a trick. “I’m here to put an end to this. You’ve taken… you’ve killed… too many people!”

“And you think you have not?” came the ripple of an answer.

The Sygnus grew stiff, a cold feeling bottoming at the pit of his stomach. When he answered, it was with slow words, “No. I’ve never killed anyone.”

“Are you sure, LuShi?”

“Yes! I’m sure! I’ve never hurt anyone! I’ve never killed anyone! Nothing except for your Marked… but they’re already dead,” he replied, becoming a bit more frantic.

“Ahh… but that is where you are unaware.”

“Unware?”

“Unaware of yourself. What you are. And what was done to create you.”

Part of Lucci reeled back in revulsion. Did he want to know? For knowing, once unlocked, could never be taken back. Everything he had ever learned in life had only stolen away the innocence that had brought him happiness.

Yet…

It was too tempting. There were so many questions he had. So many things he wanted to know.

“I have brought you here to give you a gift, my son,” the voice was coaxing. Almost warm. Almost fatherly.

And much to his dismay, something within Lucci responded to that voice. Something that he found he had very little control over.

“You see… you may not have killed anyone by your own hand, child. But hundreds upon hundreds died to bring about your creation,” the words intoned, burning into his mind. “To feed your soul and give it awareness… to bind you to the world of the Mists. Where death is your power… and your one hungry desire.”

Lucci began to shake.

People… died?  He killed people… to create me?

“Yes… I know you’ve felt it, LuShi. You can’t escape what you were born to become. Already, it’s begun. The wings are just the start,” the voice told him gently. “You’ve fought and fought to be like them. And all they will ever do is reject you. Because you are so much more… you are the embodiment of all that the living fear.”

“No…” his voice cracked with pain. The pain of realization. That what Zeromus said was true. As much as he hated it. It was all true.

I wasn’t born. I was made.

His eyes lifted, darkened by the churning shadows that drew nearer and nearer. That crowded his mind. Twisted his thought.

And I was made with this curse. This curse powered by death…

The strange silver light held within the globe in the center of the room churned in time to the darkness outside. And he felt strangely compelled to walk towards it. One hand reached up, towards the calling light.

I was made to become exactly what he wanted me to be — the Bane.

“That’s right… here is your gift, my son,” the voice urged him. “Take it. Receive your real wings.”

Real wings? But I already have…

Lucci withdrew his hand quickly. But it was a moment too late. Cracks had already formed along the side of the globe – the silver light was compelled to move towards Lucci just as much as he was to it. That’s when he realized that locked within were the spirits of all those who had been destroyed in order to create him.

“NO!” he pulled back with a sharp breath.

But the orb shattered, sending a spray of glass across the room. Shards slashed into his flesh, but Lucci did not feel it. The only thing he could see was the churning silver light as it rose up over him like a cresting wave. As it crashed down on him, he could feel an immense power rush through his limbs, lifting him up, even as a cry of despair rang from his lips.

He was losing himself.

Fragments.

He saw hundreds of lives flash before his eyes.

Joy. Sorrow. Discovery. Loss. All of it drew into him.

All of it filled every inch of him, squeezing him from inside until he felt like he would burst. Squeezing him until all that was himself could no longer be told apart from that which was so many others.

Burning.

And when he looked into the last remaining crest of glass, where the round orb once stood, he saw a reflection that he did not recognize. Blood streaks. Long, ragged silver hair. A dark sword in one hand. And the large arcs of silver wings rising from his back.

But, no matter how intently he looked, he could not remember his name.

A soft voice rose up, tickling the back of his mind. He thought he should know it.

He thought that there was something about the voice that was important. Perhaps it was the reason he was standing there in that strange room to begin with?

But none of that mattered as he listened with new delight. For the voice was offering him something he had lost — his name.

“Luccious. My son… you have come back to me.”

There was no breath left in his lungs. His vision blurred and shifted, the world growing dim around him.

The sky behind Lucci was filled with smoke, even though he knew that the fires in the city had been doused. The air was thick with the smells of ashes and blood… and his mind was clouded with the pounding of emotion that choked every inch of the city.

Lucci had fled it all, running blindly into the night. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know if there would be Esgyll or Marked ahead or behind. He didn’t know if people would be chasing him… or if they would be glad to see him leave. The only thing he knew was that he couldn’t stay there.

I didn’t do it!

Not with the words of Master ZenToYa’s accusations ringing sharply in his ears. Not with the memory of the pale, blood-streaked face of Aunt SaRa burned into his mind.

I didn’t hurt her!

The world reeled and jolted around him as the Mists twisted the reality around and wove it into something frightening and haunted. The Spiral was a place where much blood had been spilt. His battle against the Esgyll had roused the lost spirits, those murdered and slain with no justice to their unknown names. Relentlessly They pursued him, their maddening howls filling his mind until there were no thoughts of his own left.

Be quiet!

Only their memories. Memories of battles. Of death. Of loss. Of being forgotten.

BE QUIET!!

Lucci felt himself stumbling… falling… landing on his hands and knees. The Mists swirled around him, predatory, feeding off of his weakness. Taunting him for thinking that he had the power to command the realms of the unliving.

LEAVE ME ALONE!

He clutched his head, hunched over in pain. His body felt so cold. His limbs were growing numb. He couldn’t feel his hands where they clamped over his ears. Everywhere the world had grown white with the consuming waves of Mist. Perhaps now… it had come to claim him, as well.

From the depths of nothingness, a voice called his name. Reaching. Something reaching for him. Trying to pull him back from the suffocating white.

“Lucci-boy… what have you done? Why are you here?”

A hand on his shoulder. Solid, yet not. And strangely warm.

“Kaz…” Lucci choked, feeling his body shivering. “Kaz… I think I’m dying…”

“No, Lucci! Don’t talk that way!” the voice became somewhat frantic. “You have to come back… you’re straying too far into the Mists!”

“I don’t know how to come back!” his voice came as a rasping hiss.

There was no breath left in his lungs. His vision blurred and shifted, the world growing dim around him. But as his senses failed him, as the world of the living passed further and further from his reach, he felt something growing within. A haunted and dark power… the power that had given him the ability to destroy the beastly Esgyll back in the Spiral square.

It filled his mind with Their knowledge. Filled his body with Their strength. It became a part of him… until he didn’t know where They ended and he began. Until he was no longer what he was before.

A blinding silver flash filled his sight. The earth reeled under his palms as his senses cleared. Sharpening. Finding an understanding between the blurred lines of the two worlds. The living and the passed. The Mists churned as he slowly rose to his feet… eyes taking in the vision anew. Breathing in the battle-heavy air.

Kaz was standing only a few feet away, a stricken look on his scruffy face. Something about him seemed different, too. More substantial. More real. Even Lucci wouldn’t have known that Kaz was a spirit on first glance.

“L-Lucci..!” Kaz stammered a bit. He lifted a hand and pointed. “Wings!”

“What..?”

For the first time, Lucci turned to look over his shoulder. Much to his surprise, he saw two great silver wings rising up to arch above his head. They felt almost weightless, which was the reason he didn’t know they were there before Kaz alerted him. But how they had appeared, he didn’t know.

Did I Awaken..? Is that possible?

Kaz’s mouth was wide open, only one word escaping his lips, “Sygnus…”

Sygnus..?

Lucci stretched his wings, staring up at them in silent awe. They moved at his command, just like any other part of his body would. But it was so unreal to him.

Does that mean that I’m…

The sense of wonder vanished instantly as he realized what wings would signify to everyone else. To them… wings were an Awakening. Something to be celebrated. But for him, wings marked him as Sygnus. A Sygnus who had come into his potential. With all the danger and catastrophe that a Sygnus would bring.

I’m the Bane?

With that thought, panic filled him.

“Kaz..!” Lucci’s eyes turned back to his friend — pleading for him to try to understand.

The spirit had been with him from the very beginning, when the Mists had first come. And though Lucci didn’t know who he was or why he was helping… the young Sygnus needed Kaz’s friendship more than anything else right at that moment.

Kaz blinked at Lucci slowly, the tips of his long ears quivering.

“Don’t run away…!” the young Sygnus begged.

“I… don’t think I could if I wanted to,” the Spirit answered spreading his hands. “We’re somewhat connected, I believe.”

“Do you… want to run away?”

“Not really,” Kaz answered. “Do you?”

Lucci looked back at the blot of smoke on the horizon. He hadn’t realized how far away from the Spiral he had run.

“I can’t go back there,” the young Sygnus said, voice cracking. “They think I did something terrible to Aunt SaRa. And I didn’t! If they see my wings… if they see I’ve become Sygnus… then there will be nothing I can say that will make them believe that I’m innocent.”

“Do you really think so?” Kaz looked concerned. “Not even your friends?”

Lucci shook his head. Though his senses were clear, his thoughts and memories were still muddled. “I don’t know who my friends are anymore. I don’t know about anyone except for you… and Suzume.”

“Then maybe we should go back and try to talk to Suzume. She might be able to talk to Zeni… or Zemi… or…”

“No!” the young Sygnus snapped, more than he meant to. Pausing, he looked down with an apologetic face. “Sorry… I… I’m not sure if I want them to know about this. Especially the Arweinydd.”

“What..? Why?”

“Because they’ll be threatened by a Sygnus. I don’t know if even Lord Zemi will accept me back like this,” Lucci hung his head slowly. Fear and solitude began to well up in his chest as he realized what he would be losing.

“Do you really believe that?” Kaz asked with a soft voice.

The young Sygnus shook his head again and began to walk, heading away from the Spiral.

“Lucci?!” the spirit called after him. Then he began to follow.

“What are you doing..?” Lucci murmured under his breath.

“I’m coming with you,” Kaz answered.

“You can’t.”

“I have to?” he shrugged, falling in step beside the young Sygnus. “It’s your power that gives me a form here. Without you, it’s back to the Mist I go!”

Lucci sucked on his bottom lip thoughtfully, “I guess that’s true.”

“Then that means I’m invited?” Kaz’s voice was cheerfully hopeful.

It almost made Lucci smile… just a little. “Yes… you can be invited.”

“Wonderful!” the spirit exclaimed, doing a little dance right on the spot.

“You’re just doing that to try and cheer me up… aren’t you?”

“Is it working?” Kaz asked with an arched eyebrow and a warm grin.

Not wanting to hurt the spirit’s feelings, Lucci gave a short nod.

“There you go! I see that smile! It’s going to be like old times, Lucci. Back when we used to travel together?” Kaz told him, shaking the young Sygnus’ shoulder around a bit. “We can have some fun. See the sights… and then maybe when people have had some time to get their wits about them, we can figure out how to straighten out this situation.”

Lucci glanced over quickly, “Do you think… we can? Even if I have wings?”

“I believe that anything is possible, Lucci-boy. So let’s not give up,” the spirit answered.

The young Sygnus just blinked at him thoughtfully.

“Okay?”

“Sure, Kaz?” Lucci smiled a little more.

“So… where are we going?” Kaz asked, folding his hands behind his head.

“I… haven’t thought about it yet, but…” the young Sygnus stopped, peering out from between the thinning trees.

There before him stretched the wide yawning mouth of the Dragon’s Cleft. It was silent there now, with the Marked armies having moved on and no Spiral warriors in sight. The fog lifted from within the crevice, no longer shadowy as it was the last time that Lucci had seen it.

That’s when a thought came to him.

Lucci looked at the Cleft. Then he looked back at his wings. Then he looked at the Cleft again. And he looked down at his sword.

There was nothing to keep him from making his way across the Cleft now. Not with wings. Not with his sword in hand. And with the Marked army having moved into the Spiral and beyond, Zerom might very well be somewhat alone somewhere in the depths of Nefol.

There would not be a better time to try to strike at him than now.

And if I go in and defeat Zerom… then, maybe, people will like me. Even if I do have wings.

Lucci’s hand tightened on the grip of his blade. His eyes narrowed slowly as he glanced over at Kaz. “We’re going to the Inner Realms. Back to Nefol.”

“Marked…” the words passed through his lips, a voice almost not his own. “There are hundreds of them.”

“Please, Master Kudako, let me come with you,” Lucci begged, dogging the Dragon’s steps as he strode up and down the line of Spiral warriors that had been assembled.

Master Kudako didn’t reply. In fact, he didn’t let it show if he had heard the young Sygnus’ request at all. He simply pulled the leather of his gauntlet tighter on his wrist. It was the first time that Lucci had seen the Dragon dress in a full set of armor.

“Master Kudako… I saw what might be out there. This was my dream. And I’m not afraid to face it,” he continued, spreading both of his hands in a plea. “Master TsuYa might be out there. There might be something we can do to–”

“If anything should happen to you under my watch, I’d have all sorts of people down on me,” Master Kudako finally answered, pausing in mid-step.

Lucci froze, a little stunned by the revelation. “They would… care… if something happened to me?”

“Of course they would,” the Dragon told him, gold eyes peering back over one shoulder. “You have friends and near-family… people who have raised you. Don’t let the know-nothings and the nay-sayers color the truth of those who do love you.”

They young Sygnus looked down, half shameful. It was true, his focus was always on who didn’t like him. Who didn’t trust him. Who thought he was nothing more than a child. Or just the Bane-to-come.

But if someone like Master Kudako says it’s so… then it must be.

When Lucci lifted his head again, his words were determined, “And I love them, too. That’s why I want to fight to protect them.”

“Hm.”

One hand reached back and drew just a gleam of the dark blade from over one shoulder, “I can fight, Master Kudako. Let me prove it to you. Let me prove it to everyone. It’s what Master TsuYa would have wanted me to do.”

The Dragon’s lips were pressed into a firm line of silence. But the warrior in him couldn’t deny the honor of another. “Very well. But you are to remain close to me at all times. And if things turn bad, you will follow my orders, no matter what they may be. Is that understood?”

Lucci nodded vehemently. Something inside of him was both afraid and excited.

Here’s my chance! Now I can show them all what I can really do. Then maybe they will trust me.

But Master Kudako was having none of it. His gruff voice snapped quickly, “Fall in.”

Lucci straightened, giving the Dragon a puzzled look. “Fall in what?”

“Fall in line,” Master Kudako gave a slight sigh and pointed to a spot in the ranks next to one of the Spiral Warriors.

“Oh!” the young Sygnus back-pedaled, moving to stand with the other soldiers.

Their blue eyes gave him strange sidelong looks — the one spot of silver in a sea of golden warriors. A boy among men. Lucci offered them bright, friendly smiles, trying to break the ice. When he got no response, he quickly learned to mind his own business and imitate the stiff posture of the men around him.

This… might not be so much fun afterall. Everyone here is so serious.

After what seemed an unnecessary eternity of waiting, Master Kudako finally strode back up to the front of the ranks. His gold eyes were sharp, studying each man in turn as he spoke quietly, “We may be going to face a great evil today. But our mission is to scout and bring warning. Not to fight. Light be with us that we find nothing to bring warning about. Now let’s move out.”

Instantly, the Spiral warriors swept forward like a wave of deadly gold and steel. There was no sound. Nothing but pure, precise motion. And Lucci was hard pressed to keep up.

At Master Kudako’s back, they navigated the forest land. The pace was grueling in speed, though never a once did it seem like any of the men were running. Or even jogging. And though Lucci was taller by most of the men there by head and shoulders, his long legs almost served to make him more awkward and clumsy than helping him to stay in rank.

How can they move so fast with so little effort?

By the time he was out of breath, none of the Spiral warriors had even seemed to break a sweat. Something about the way they moved was almost frightening. Almost mechanical. And Lucci knew that if these men were to meet with the dead-minded Marked, it would be a terrible fight to behold.

Master Kudako knew exactly where to go. Where Lucci could only guess at the location of the Passage through the Cleft, the warrior had cut a straight shot through forest and hills and streams. He moved with the grace of the Dragon, even more effortless than the warriors around him, if that was possible.

I wonder how far it really is from the Spiral to the Cleft…

Ahead of them, the horizon was dark and heavy. But it wasn’t the sort of darkness that was ordinary to the oncoming night. Something about it filled Lucci’s heart with a sense of dread. A dull pressure grew in the back of his mind… and before he could think about it, the ground around them was heavy with silver mists that clung to their feet, awaiting his command.

No… I can’t do this here! I want to fight on my own. I don’t want to rely on the spirits to fight for me.

If the rest of the warriors felt uneasy about the mounting shadows ahead, they did not show it. In fact, they did not show anything. They swept forward without hesitation, straight into the heart of the waiting Chaos.

They heard the screeches of the Marked before they saw them. The terrible, piercing sound of a soulless body, mangled with the hatred of destruction. Lucci threw his hands up over his ears, knowing that just like in the past, nothing could shut the pain of the sound out of his mind.

But the Spiral warriors drove forward, unaffected. Their only reaction was to draw their weapons, growing ready for the battle to come.

“We must scout,” Master Kudako reminded them. “Fight to defend yourselves, only if you must. We must bring word back to the Spiral of what it is that we are facing. Remember!”

Obedient, the ranks slowed to a crouch, inching forwards through the thick brush to try and get a glimpse of what they would be up against. Clumsily, Lucci imitated their motions, carefully parting the leaves of the nearest bush to try and get a look. But it wasn’t necessary.

The creeping Mists told him all that he needed to know, unexpectedly acting as his eyes and ears.

“Marked…” the words passed through his lips, a voice almost not his own. “There are hundreds of them.”

Master Kudako lifted a hand to stop the advance, turning with a slow frown towards the young Sygnus.

“Zerom took not just the people… but the animals,” he continued somberly. “And there are about ten or so Esgyll out there as well.”

“I see… we will need some Dragons to back us up, then,” Master Kudako’s face grew grim.  “What do they appear to be doing?”

“Waiting,” Lucci answered. “There is something strange about the way they are acting. It’s not the same as the way the Marked were before.”

“In what way?” the Dragon asked.

The young Sygnus frowned, trying to figure it out, “I don’t know. Like they have some sense of organization. They’re not just roaming around and–”

-Lucci-boy! Watch your side!- Kaz’s familiar voice rang in his mind.

He was able to give a moment of warning before the shrieks rang out, “They’ve sensed us!”

The forest burst upon them in a torrent of decayed bodies, lashing fangs and claws. Animal growls and screeches echoed through the air. But there was no sound of the men’s screaming in return. No scream but Lucci’s own.

As the young Sygnus stumbled back, he saw the swelling wave of golden Spiral warriors rise up to meet the onslaught of the Marked. Where normal men would have buckled under the fear aura or trembled under the force of the mind-rending shrieks, the warriors pressed forward without a flinch or hint of alarm. They cut through the Marked with fluid flashing blades, splattering the forest in the black blood of their enemies.

But something was different about the Marked, too. The Marked that Lucci remembered had fought in a fever of feral frenzy, a rushing kamikaze with no fear or mind for their own wellbeing. And though there was no fear of death still, there was a sense of intelligence that had not been there before. Even the idea of this ambush was unlike anything that the Marked had the resources to do in the past.

This is dangerous…

They were using rudimentary tactics. Joining in numbers to take down stragglers. Focusing attacks and pulling back when taking too much in the way of damage or becoming outnumbered. Slowly, they were driving the Spiral warriors further and further into the forest, away from the main encampment.

They’re fighting with a warrior’s sense. Maybe now that Master TsuYa is leading them…

And for some reason, none of them were interested in fighting Lucci.

They must know who I am… maybe Zerom told them to capture me without hurting me.

The young Sygnus drew his blade with bared teeth.

I don’t know… but it’s not going to work. I’m going to find Master TsuYa.

Just as he moved forward, a tight grip took his shoulder from behind. Lucci spun around to meet the intense gaze of Master Kudako.

“We are not here to take on the entire Marked army. We must fall back to the Spiral. We must warn them,” the Dragon ordered, ears folding back to accent the scowl on his face.

“But Master TsuYa could be right–”

“You are not going to save TsuYa if you end up getting yourself killed. Now follow my orders and fall back!” Master Kudako snarled, his grip tightening a little.

Lucci’s mouth fell open in mute shock. It was rare to see so much emotion come from the Dragon. And everything in him did not want to tangle with the power of that gaze.

Just then, Kaz’s voice sounded in his mind again, sharp with warning, -Lucci. A group of them are breaking away!-

“What?” Lucci answered out loud, forgetting about his current company.

-The main part of their force appears to be moving towards the Spiral. I don’t know if they were waiting for you to come out here before they did… but whatever they’re doing right now, can’t be good!-

The young Sygnus’ chin jerked up, staring straight at Master Kudako, “The Marked are moving for the Spiral!”

“Are you certain?” Master Kudako bared his fangs.

-Yes!-

“Yes!” Lucci echoed.

For some reason, the Dragon did not question his information further, “Then this ambush is a diversion. All men, full retreat! We make for the Spiral, post haste!”

Lucci wasn’t given time to object. Master Kudako pulled him along for the first few yards before the Dragon broke out into a full run. Spiral warriors flanked him on either side, keeping him safe within the middle of the formation. Lucci didn’t know if they had been ordered to protect him or if it just happened that way.

Unrelenting, the Marked chased them, bounding and lashing after the retreating men from all sides. Their shrieks were deafening, the scent of decay overwhelming. The Spiral blades would flash every now and then, painting the forest floor black as they struck. The warriors rarely missed their target.

Every now and again, the Marked would catch the heels of one of the running men, slashing at them. One of the warriors fell just to Lucci’s left. There was no expression on his face. No scream as the swarm of darkness leapt on him with tearing fangs and claws. The young Sygnus turned his head, choking.

No… no…

Lucci felt exhaustion rising. His breath burned his throat as he fought to gasp. His legs ached with the effort of speed. But to stop would to mean death – if not for himself, then for the Spiral warriors that would certainly turn to defend him. And maybe for the people who waited for their warnings in the Spiral city not that far ahead.

Must… keep… running.

Dismay filled him as his silver eyes lifted to the horizon. The Marked had moved in fast, propelled by the forces of their Esgyll. Shadows darker than night rose up over the glimmering golden city and the Lion’s Keep.

Zerom’s Marked army had invaded the Spiral.

“I won’t come with you. I won’t be your tool,” Lucci snarled. “If you and I are to meet, it will be for me to destroy you!”

Lucci found himself standing over the yawning mouth of the Dragon’s Cleft. He had never been to the Cleft before – only seen the deep squiggly line running in a dark crevice dividing the Inner Realms from the Outterlands on some of Master ZenToYa’s old maps. The maps that Master TsuYa would never let him touch, despite his great interest.

However, he knew that this had to be the Cleft. He had heard too many stories of the great divide that Lord Zemi had created long, long ago to protect the North Clans from the encroaching destroyers that sought to hunt them down to the smallest child.

I wonder what happened to make them fight so terribly.

Lucci’s feet carried him over the soft yellow-green grasses of the Spiral lands. He was on the Outterland side, looking back into the shadows that would have taken him home. Back to Nefol. To the place that he had been born but did not remember seeing. To the place where Zeromus was waiting… and his dark blade would fulfill its final meaning.

Suzume said that my last dream was probably of a place inside of Nefol.

The young Sygnus shivered a bit. Every time he thought of the dark dream, it frightened him. He had had visions within the Mists before. But this dream had felt so real. And the memory of Master TsuYa’s twisted image haunted Lucci with the guilt of the things he had not done to save his once-teacher.

Master TsuYa was gruff… but he went against his father’s wishes to help train me. And as much as he loves Master ZenToYa, that meant a lot. I realize that now.

Lucci still didn’t understand why Master TsuYa chose to do what he did. When so many others denied the young Sygnus training, thinking that he would one day become too dangerous, the dark-eyed warrior had taken up the call.

I’ll probably never know now.

The young Sygnus grimaced to himself.

I can’t think like that. I have to believe that we can bring him back somehow.

One fist balled at his side, he gave a curt nod. Then he began picking his way down the side of a steep hillside. Slipping and sliding, Lucci landed in a patch of speckled flowers. Grass and blooms waved back and forth in the soft breezes, having a luminous and unreal quality. Even the silver mists that usually followed him were dim.

It must be the effect of the Cleft. I heard that it had magical properties… and that’s part of what kept invaders from getting in. I wonder if it will be enough to keep Zerom from passing over.

There was no direct path to the Cleft’s Passage. Not that Lucci expected there would be. It was said that the Passage was the only place where one could cross over the Cleft. But that it would only respond to the powers of one of Lord Zemi’s servants. So only certain people could safely cross over.

Which means, I could be out of luck… unless something unusual happens.

And unusual things did seem to happen around the young Sygnus, whether he liked it or not.

Though I don’t even know if I can identify where the Passage is… even if I did see it. Maybe that’s something only Zemi’s people can do, too.

The young Sygnus sucked on his bottom lip, peering into the depths. The chasm looked like it stretched downwards for eternity.  A sickly colored fog churned within, growing thicker the closer to the center… until everything became obscured with cloud and darkness.

There was no sign of a bridge or any sort of Passage that he could make out.

This isn’t going to work. Is it?

Lucci gave a disgruntled frown, his fingers brushing over the hilt of the long, dark-bladed sword on his back. Feeling it there made him stop… he hadn’t remembered bringing the weapon. In fact… he really hadn’t remembered making the trip that would have carried him there, all the way to the Cleft.

How far did he travel?

How long had it taken?

Did anyone know he was gone?

Does it matter… if I told them what I wanted to do, they would just try to stop me.

The grip of the blade felt good in his hand. Reassuring. The longer that he had possession of it, the more comforting its presence had become… until lately, he found it more and more difficult to leave behind in the corner of his guest room.

I wonder why I was afraid of it to begin with. Nothing bad has come from it.

It seemed like so long ago… the day he had climbed the dark stairs of the obelisk, unknowing what he would find at the top. And now, armed with the sword he found there, he stood on the edge of the Inner Realms, seeking a way to return and overthrow the Chaos that had devoured his homelands.

If I can just find a way across.

His breath misted out in soft clouds, alerting him to how cold it had become as he approached the Cleft. The sound of hissing was sharp in his ears, something he took to be his shivering breathing. It was only when sound shifted that he realized it was not.

-Luuushhhhiii….-

His silver eyes narrowed, prickles running over his skin. He peered out into the rising fog with a frown.

Now I’m just hearing things.

The young Sygnus rubbed his hands together to warm then and continued walking the length of the Cleft. When the sound came again, he realized it was not his imagination.

-Luuuushhhhi… I will find you.-

“What?” Lucci spun around, staring into the gaping darkness again. There was a pressure unfolding within the fog somewhere in the Cleft ahead of him, a feeling he hadn’t sensed before. “Who’s there?”

-I will bring you home.-

“Home? What are you talking about?” his frown grew sharper.

-And all will be as it should have been. You and I. Father and son.-

“No!” Lucci stumbled back with widened eyes. “Forget it! I don’t want to come with you!”

-Such harsh, harsh words, my child.-

“You are no father to me!”

-Oh… but I am. No matter what the Dreigiau wants to tell you. There are some things you cannot change by will alone.-

The young Sygnus’ hand gripped the hilt of his blade, glaring sharply. He could see it now. The darkness was gathering and slowly, slowly consuming the shifting fog. Blotting it out with a shadow darker than the deepest night.

“I won’t come with you. I won’t be your tool,” Lucci snarled. “If you and I are to meet, it will be for me to destroy you!”

-We shall see, child.-

The tone was so condescending. Dripping with so much arrogance. As much as Lucci wanted to fight back the anger, he found the slender dark blade drawn.

You think I can’t do it. You try to convince me that I’m something special. Yet you’re really no different than the people in Ceiswyr. You look down upon me, too.

Tendrils of shadow erupted through the cloud of fog, bursting through with a force that rocked the earth. Lucci fought to keep his balance, but ended up sprawled upon the ground. His silver eyes widened as stream after stream of shadow shot from the center of the Cleft, breaking down the barriers that had existed there for so long. Opening the way for the darkness to come through.

“No!” Lucci’s shout was hoarse in his ears as he scrambled to his feet. Hands numb with cold, he fumbled to lift his blade again. He saw the tip of it shaking with overwhelming fear.

-We shall test your courage soon.-

“We…?”

That’s when he saw it. Shapes seething and shifting in the heart of the shadow. The scent of putrid rot and decay choked the air in his throat. Hisses and snarls, animalistic growls. And one long, terribly familiar shriek.

No! The Marked!

Lucci backed away, throwing one hand over his ears. But he was too horrified to gather his senses enough to run. He knew that even he could not take on all of Zeromus’ dark army… and senses alone told him, that it was nearly the entire army there crossing the Cleft.

But how..? Only one of Zemi’s…

The fog began to part and vision cleared. Lucci nearly fell over himself stumbling back. His eyes locked on the figure at the head of the army, far larger than the rest of the Marked. The black eyes. Grey skin. Dark hair and wings. Wicked, black bladed scythe. The streak of startling white that gleamed almost maliciously now.

Master TsuYa…

And he realized.

Zeromus is using Master TsuYa to unlock the Passage! Maybe because he Awakened before becoming Marked… it still reacts to Master TsuYa’s energies!

The dead, black eyes fell upon the young Sygnus. This time there were no words for him. There was nothing behind the gaze that felt like Master TsuYa at all. The lips curled back, cracking and caked with black blood. Black wings unfolded, sending the last traces of fog scattering away. And the blade lifted, too dark to reflect the dim light.

Lucci screamed, lifting his own dark blade in defense. Just as the scythe sparked off of the flat of his sword, the world jolted around him. Reeling backwards in pain and terror, he was falling.

Then, with a gasp, he sat up. Staring around, Lucci found himself splayed out on the floor next to his bed, his sheets tangled around his arms and legs. As if he had just struggled in a great, imaginary battle.

Lucci wiped the sweat from his face with shaky hands, staring around in disorientation. It took a few minutes before he calmed his breath and realized where he was.

Another dream?

He unwrapped the sheets and tossed them in a wad on the bed. Then he stumbled over to the wash basin and splashed his face with the cooling water.

Or was it? Everything seemed so real. Again.

When he looked outside, the world was just on the fringe of twilight. Gold stone reflected the hues of the overstretching sky. The twinkle of early rising stars shimmered down from above. A random Spiral warrior patrolled the streets, keeping watch over the houses as the light slipped away. All seemed quiet and at peace.

Yet, the unease grew more and more difficult to bear the longer Lucci stood and looked.

It could be possible.

His hands tightened on the window sill.

The Cleft is far enough away that we wouldn’t know it. Not unless there are Spiral guards there.

Lucci’s scowl grew sharper.

But with a full army of Marked… what guard is going to live to make it back to call an alarm?

The young Sygnus turned, hand reaching out for the grip of the dark blade. Then he stopped.

But what if it is just a dream? This hasn’t been the first one… it could be that Zeromus is sending nightmares to scare me. Suzume said a similar thing happened to Master TsuYa.

His fingers hovered over the dark glittering blade in uncertainty.

If I run out to call a false alarm, what will they think of me? That the curse of the Bane is taking control? That I’m losing my mind… like the Sygni do?

Troubled, Lucci shook his head.

And if it is real… if there is an army of Marked coming through the Cleft, led by Master TsuYa. If I know about this attack and I don’t tell… If people die because I don’t call an alarm…

Gritting his teeth, he snatched up the grip of the blade in his hand. It took a moment to strap the wide leather lash over his shoulder and keep it out of the tangle of his long silver hair.

I can’t let that happen. It’s better to call a false alarm than to let people get hurt. No matter what people think of me for it.

Rushing out of his chambers, the young Sygnus began to search the quiet streets. He had heard that Lord Zemi and the others would be going into the Lion’s Keep. He wasn’t sure what it was they were looking for, but it seemed important. As did the fact that a new leader for the Spiral had just been named.

Lucci could still see the remnants of the celebration that had taken place that afternoon in honor of ShinRe. Though the Spiral people weren’t much in the way of party-goers, there were some things that they apparently felt were important enough to commemorate. There had been food and some music and a little dancing. Mostly people gathering in the wide square, congratulating the new Leader.

But with the coming of night, most of the people had taken their celebration home with them. Such was the way of the people of the Spiral.

If everyone’s gone… who can I talk to?

Lucci cast about from house to house, looking for a familiar face. A guide. Anyone who might believe his story and not look down on him for telling it.

As searched, he passed the foot of the stairs at the Lion’s Keep. From somewhere above, he heard a soft, familiar voice. A voice he had grown to trust as a child. And one that he knew would not turn him away.

Aunt Sara!

Quickly, the young Sygnus turned to race up the steps.

"I... failed them..." Zemi heard himself say.

Why… is everything so fuzzy?

Something appeared to be wrong with his vision portals, though Zemi didn’t know exactly what the issue was. In fact, he didn’t even know where he was. Why he was there. And why the world was so white and floaty.

The sensation wasn’t painful or really that undesirable. His physical weight seemed nonexistent – something that he would need to tweak again later. His vision wasn’t projecting correctly. His audio was muted and dim. And his train of thought – when did he get one of those?! – was functioning far slower than it had a right to.

That’s the problem with these physical forms. Always requiring so much maintenance.

A nagging in the back of his mind told him that something had happened to cause this failure in his so finely-researched and well-crafted Earthian form. Only, he couldn’t remember exactly what the experience had been. So he decided that it must not have been that important.

Failure? Impossible. Zemi Dreigiau does not fail!

But every time he told himself that, the nagging returned. Oh, yes. Zemi Dreigiau had failed. And he had failed in the worst way possible.

You’re going to have to work a little harder if you want me to believe that.

And so the thought would recede, fading off into the distant haze. Until Zemi began to wonder once again why everything was so fuzzy.

He might have spent a small eternity pondering these questions if the voice had not come to him. At first, Zemi thought it had to be a trick of his malfunctioning audio receptors. For whatever strange sort of state he was in, it was not possible for any other willful presence to push its way into his awareness. Arweinydd were not the same as Earthians, after all. They didn’t have the same visual and aural mind activity… dreams… open consciousness… All the things that it took to tap in and create the sensation of mind speak and physical illus-

“Zemi!” the voice sounded again, this time more insistent.

“Augh!” the Dreigiau responded. “You aren’t real! Be gone!”

“I most certainly am real, boy,” the voice retorted hotly. Then it even forced a visual appearance to take shape right there. Though the form was wavery, like a reflection in a rippling pool, Zemi could make out the image of a man. Appearing there. Impossibly in his non-existent Earthian-like mental imagery.

“How did you do that?” Zemi grit his teeth, taking a step back.

“The same way you just did,” the form lifted one hand to point.

That’s when Zemi realized that somehow, he too, had imposed a physical representation of himself as a mental image within his own-

“Will you please stop trying to make sense of this? The how is not important, Zemi. You need to be focusing on the why,” the voice told him, becoming a bit more gentle.

“The why?” the Dreigiau asked, busy waving his hand in front of his face. It looked and felt solid enough for a visual representation of– He forced himself to refocus on the voice’s words, “They why what?”

“Not what. Just why,” came the answer.

“What?” Zemi was now thoroughly lost.

The voice sighed, holding up both hands. “Okay. Let’s try this again. From the start.”

“Alright…” Zemi answered, half attentive. He toed at the ground with one boot, curious about the manifestation of clothing and how he could possibly have physical contact with a floor-like structure that did not appear to have any visual-

“Zemi!”

“Huh?”

“You’re particling!” the voice informed him in a deeply worried tone.

“I’m what?”

“Particling,” he repeated. “Losing your physical form… returning to your origins of light.”

“I am?” Zemi looked down at his hands. They seemed just fine to him.

“Not here,” the voice sighed, motioning with one hand. “Out there. In the world of Awareness.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” the Dreigiau admitted slowly. His tone had grown more grim… there was something in the way that this strange being spoke that seemed very serious.

“Zemi… things have happened. Bad things,” came the quiet, concerned reply. “And somehow, in the mix of it all, you’re getting all separated.”

“Separated?”

“Your essence. Your awareness. They’re breaking apart from each other. You’re losing your connection to the physical world,” the voice explained. “If you don’t do something to stop it, you will return to what you were before — the Light without Knowing. And all that you have made… everyone who is counting on you… all of that will fade away.”

A sharp jolt cracked through the foggy white of his mind. As the words rang in his mind, memories suddenly bubbled up, carrying with them flickers of images. Dark images.

Himself. A Dragon. Flying into Zerom’s Chaos. With the tiny form of AsaHi on his back.

AsaHi… she…

Awakening. Her wings spread wide. Her struggle to save them as they fell.

As Ceiswyr fell. Raining like tears around them.

No! That couldn’t… it didn’t…

The pain of his people crying out to him. Feeling their spirits flicker and fade within his mind.

So many lost. So little I could do.

TsuYa’s Marked transformation. How they had lost the one that had meant so much to Zento.

Zerom’s triumph.

Zemi Dreigiau‘s defeat.

“It’s not over yet,” the voice broke in, fighting to overpower the sorrowful memories. Fighting to be heard above the Arweinydd’s grief.

“I… failed them…” Zemi heard himself say. His own voice sounded unreal to his ears. The words were even more unreal.

Zemi Dreigiau… does not… fail…

“No. You haven’t,” a soft wavering hand was on his shoulder. “Zemi, listen to me. I need you to hear me out.”

It was hard to hear anything. Everything was becoming more and more blurry. Shifting around him like a vast ocean of regret and defeat. Pounding within his mind. Tearing him down from inside out.

“ZEMI!” came the frantic shout. “Don’t leave them! They need you!”

No… they don’t…

“Yes! They do!” the voice argued. “Ceiswyr may be gone. There may have been people lost. But there are still a lot of people left alive! And those people need their Patron! Zerom and his Marked are sitting on the other side of that Cleft just sniffing for a way to get across. If you leave them now, then Zerom will win! He will take everything. And there will not be a single light left in this world that can stand up to that kind of Chaos!”

Zemi focused on the words… they had become clearer once more.

“But… I can’t fight it either…” the Dreigiau spoke slowly. “I can’t strike at him for fear of falling to the Chaos myself. All I have been able to do is struggle to defend… and fall back as his power grows. How can I… an Arweinydd… fight another of my own kind?”

“Zemi,” the voice was soft again. A reassuring touch on his shoulder. “There is more to you than you may realize.”

The Arweinydd glanced up with a quizzical look.

“You have so much power… so much strength,” it continued. “But that has all been tempered in your art. In learning about your people. In finding compassion and love for the Earthians. Not in battle… struggles… and war.”

“Then what should I do?” Zemi frowned.

“Realize that you haven’t reached your full potential. That, like the Earthians, you can still change and grow. That there is so much about your kind… and yourself… that you have yet to learn,” came the gentle answer.

“Are you saying… there might be a way that I can stand up to Zerom and his Chaos?”

“It’s possible. But you have to unify yourself and your energies first — all parts of yourself.”

“Parts?” Zemi frowned. “What does–”

“Now Zemi… if I gave you all the answers, that would take away the point of the journey,” the voice gave a quiet laugh. “There are just some things that you have to discover for yourself.”

“But–”

“Isn’t that what you say about your Earthians?” the image began to ripple and fade.

“Yes, but–”

“They’re waiting for you, Zem. Why don’t you see what your Watcher has to say about all this?” the voice became more and more distant. “Just remember… you haven’t failed them… until you’ve given up.”

“Wait!” the Dreigiau protested. “Where are you going? I wasn’t done talking to yo–”

“Zemi!” another voice rang through his mind. A voice that he recognized instantly.

AsaHi?

“Zemi?” the girl’s voice pleaded. It sounded so worried. So heartbroken. “Please, wake up!”

Wake up..? But Arweinydd don’t slee-

The room around him suddenly came into focus. Tiny dancing particles of light floated before his eyes, capering across the sunlight that streamed through the windows. They alighted gently on the bed sheets… the curtains… and in AsaHi’s hair.

The girl stood over him, face etched in lines of deep worry – worry all for him. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. The way the light reflected from her bright green eyes. The way her mouth curved… so small and delicate. The way her slender hand rested so lightly against his forehead.

If this is what I get for particling… I should try it more often.

A faint laugh rumbled in his chest.

“Zemi? Can you hear me?” Another face popped into view – SoYa.

All love-sick day dreams of AsaHi poofed out of his thoughts instantly. He tried to keep the grudging out of his tone, “Yeah… I hear you.”

“Oh… thank goodness!” AsaHi sighed deeply, hugging him around the neck.

That made the situation decidedly better again.

“Hey… I’m all good. Why the long faces?” the Dreigiau attempted a casual approach. Afterall, if he didn’t let them sense trouble, there would be no reason for them to think there was any.

“Because you haven’t been doing well,” SoYa told him with a grim look. He reached his hand out, capturing one of the floating specks of light. “Look, AsaHi. They… seem to be fading.”

The girl sat up, loosening her hold on the Dreigiau’s neck. He silently mourned the loss.

“Then they must really have been a part of Zemi, afterall,” she said slowly, giving him a quizzical frown.

“Particling” he said. I guess this is what he meant.

“Are you feeling any better, Lord Zemi?” came a smooth, calm voice from the far side of the room.

The Dreigiau pushed himself into a sitting position, teal-flecked eyes squinting through the light. It took him a long moment to figure out who he was seeing. Long silver hair… deep silver eyes… open and boyish concern… young Suzume hanging around one broad shoulder.

“Lucci..?” his voice creaked out despite all attempts to school it.

Now that… was unexpected.

The young Sygnus rose to his feet, crossed the room and stooped next to the bedside. He hesitated just a moment before reaching out to the Arweinydd.

Zemi took his hands, “You came back safely.”

“You sent people to help me,” Lucci replied frankly. “You believed I could find it… didn’t you?”

“Yes,” the Dreigiau nodded quietly. “I believe if anyone can turn this battle… it will be you.”

The young man’s eyes widened with surprise, as if he wasn’t used to people putting so much hope in him. He simply nodded dumbly, over and over and over again. “I want to help. I want to stop Zeromus.”

“I know. So do I,” Zemi told him, patting one hand fondly. “And we’re going to. If you can just be patient for a little bit longer.”

“What do you mean, Zemi?” SoYa inquired with a tilt of his head.

“I’m not completely sure. There are some things I need to check into first,” the Arweinydd admitted.  Then his eyes glinted with a new light, focusing on the faces around him, “But this fight isn’t over with. Not just yet.”

It was as if a warming wave of hope had just washed through the room — their faces had lit up with their own new-found strength. Their minds opened to the possibilities… to the power of a Patron inspiring his people.

Even Lucci broke out into an honest-to-goodness grin, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“And I know a thing or two about Arweinydd!”

It was good for AsaHi to see Suzume again.

It was only a matter of moments before the dark haired girl was inviting them inside, pulling them both over to the wicker chairs in the center of the room. Just as quickly, AsaHi started up conversation – asking the girl all about where she had been and the things she had seen. Talking about wings. Feathers and flying.

AsaHi was so worried about Suzume. She was always sending her letters and trying to encourage her.

Now that the two were together again, he could sense a spark of cheer that had been so far and in between after all the dark things that had happened. SoYa didn’t interrupt. He simply sat in his own chair, waiting and watching. Noticing things.

Suzume talks so grown up now… I guess we’re not the only ones that have been through a lot lately.

A little time passed before their conversation was cut off by the click of the opening bedchamber door. SoYa turned with a cautious eye, hands gripping the arms of his chair. Waiting.

They say Lucci’s become the Sygnus…

He knew it was wrong to base his thoughts off of the word of others, especially others who had treated the boy with contempt back in Ceiswyr. But even SoYa couldn’t help being a bit nervous at the thought of harboring a Sygnus among them. Especially a Sygnus who carried a weapon that was forged through Arweinydd wars during the Time Before.

AsaHi had fallen silent, her head turned towards the slowly opening door. SoYa sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as the young Sygnus stepped into the room.

It was undoubtedly Lucci. But the silver hair was much longer. Silver eyes were deeper and somewhat haunted. His lanky teenage form was now taller and stronger. Strange runes marked along his jawline, the same cold silver color as the shifting mists that followed at his heels.

SoYa found his hands gripping the arms of his chair more tightly. Until he took a closer look.

One side of Lucci’s shirt had come untucked as he had mis-buttoned it from the collar down. The tunic vest was clearly two sizes too small while his trousers didn’t quite tuck into the tops of his boots the way they should have. His cloak also looked too small for him, bearing the familiar stains that came from days of long travel. And under the shadow of the grown-up brow, there was the uncertainty of the boy that SoYa remembered.

Lucci stood for a moment before awkwardly attempting to bow. His voice was strained with apprehension, “Master SoYa. Lady AsaHi…”

Maybe AsaHi could see the same things that SoYa could. Maybe it was the clumsy attempt to bow. Or maybe the fear in the young man’s voice. Whatever it was, SoYa could tell that she had been won over even before she got to her feet.

“Lucci..!” AsaHi half exclaimed, crossing the room to him. She took his arm with a soft sound. “Look at you! When did you get to be so handsome?”

The young Sygnus just gave a shy smile, unable to even stammer a reply.

Taking her cue, SoYa also got to his feet, “It’s been a while. It’s good to see you, Lucci.”

The young man nodded in return, finally managing a few words, “It’s good to see you, too. I’m glad… you didn’t get hurt… in the battles…”

“We were worried when you disappeared like you did,” AsaHi told him.

“I’m sorry,” Lucci offered an apologetic look.

“It’s alright,” SoYa pursed his lips. “We all have to do what needs to be done, sometimes.”

The young Sygnus was silent for a moment. Then he said again, “It’s hard. And I’m sorry.”

SoYa glanced up with a puzzled face.

“About Master TsuYa,” Lucci added, wincing a bit. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” the Athrylith drew in a long breath before he sat down again. “I know you did everything you could. We all did.”

“Come on,” AsaHi took the young man’s arm, leading him towards the chairs. “Let’s try not to talk about too much sadness. We have to figure out what we’re going to do here and now… not point the blame for things that have already happened.”

Lucci gave them a long frown as he sat down. When he spoke next, it was the exact words that SoYa had been hoping to hear, “There’s some trouble, isn’t there? Is there something I can do to help?”

“As a matter of fact, I think there might be,” the Athrylith answered, relaxing slowly in his chair.

“Not for us, though,” AsaHi corrected. “It’s Zemi.”

“Lord Zemi?” Suzume echoed, leaning over the arm of Lucci’s chair.

“We think he may be… sick,” AsaHi seemed to be searching for the best words to use.

“Is that possible?” Lucci’s voice was thick with incredulity.

“I know how it sounds,” SoYa replied. “But I saw it for myself. Something happened to Zemi when Ceiswyr fell.”

“He was fighting Zeromus,” AsaHi’s voice was quiet. “It could have something to do with Chaos, too.”

Suzume and Lucci exchanged worried frowns.

Then the young Sygnus spoke, “You know that I’ll do whatever I can to help Lord Zemi. Only, I’m not sure exactly how.”

“We’re not all that certain either, Lucci,” SoYa spread his hands. “We were hoping that if we can find out a little more about what can make an Arweinydd sick, we can figure out how to reverse it.”

“Suzume,” AsaHi began, “We know that you’ve been spending a lot of time talking to Zeni. Do you think that you would be able to persuade her to talk to us… if it would help her brother?”

The girl blinked. “I don’t see why not. She cares a lot about Lord Zemi.”

AsaHi smiled and pressed her hands together, “Good! Then maybe we can–”

“The child-Arweinydd won’t have the answers,” an unfamiliar voice suddenly interrupted.

“What?” AsaHi stopped with a puzzled frown.

“I said, Zeni won’t have the answers any more than you do,” the voice repeated. “None of the young Arweinydd understand what they are or where they come from… much less how to deal with the first wave of Becoming.”

“Who said that?” SoYa stared around the room, eyes wide.

“I did.”

A flickering glow appeared within the doorway to the bedchamber. At first, it was nothing more than a hazy light that rippled in mid-air. But ever so slowly, it began to take the form of a man… a tall, somewhat disheveled man with strangely deep eyes and pale hair. He offered them a wide smile as he stepped into the room, his image growing more and more firm until it became completely solid.

His smile faded the moment that AsaHi gave a small, frightened scream.

“Hold on!” Lucci was on his feet, hands spread in a calming motion. “This is Kaz! He’s a friend!”

“He’s a ghost!” AsaHi’s fists were jammed up to her mouth, eyes wide.

“We prefer the term Spirit. Or Departed, if you must,” Kaz sighed, half to himself.

“But you’re still a ghost!” the girl waved her hands forward.

“AsaHi… wait,” SoYa’s voice was smooth as he squinted at the Spirit. “I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

“Of course not!” the wide smile had returned. “I’m very friendly!”

AsaHi eyed Kaz with an uncertain look, but didn’t argue.

“He’s helped me,” Lucci explained. “He’s my friend. And he’s from the Time Before.”

SoYa perked up, turning a questioning gaze at the Spirit, “The Time Before? Really?”

“That’s right!” Kaz half pranced back and forth before them. “And I know a thing or two about Arweinydd!”

“Do you think you can tell us what is making Zemi sick?” AsaHi frowned a little.

“It’s possible,” he shrugged. “I’d have to talk to him first.”

SoYa leaned back with a thoughtful look. Then he turned towards AsaHi, “I don’t think that could hurt anything. Do you?”

“Zemi’s not talking to anyone right now. He’s hardly moved at all since we got him here,” the girl answered.

“Let me guess… he’s particling,” Kaz held up a finger.

“What?” SoYa furrowed his brows.

“Breaking off into a bunch of tiny floating light particles,” the Spirit defined.

“That’s right… how did you know?” the Athrylith blinked.

“I told you. I know a few things about Arweinydd,” the Spirit began to prance again with a self-important expression.

AsaHi leaned over to SoYa, whispering, “I think he’s a little strange… are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “But we may not have the time to be picky about the help we get. I think we should at least let him try and talk to Zemi. He seems to know things that we don’t.”

AsaHi took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Okay. But maybe we should keep Lucci around… just in case.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” SoYa pursed his lips, glancing across the room.

Kaz beamed a wide, friendly smile in return.

The Athrylith cleared his throat before asking, “Lucci, Suzume and… uh… Kaz. Would you mind coming back with us to Zemi’s chambers? Maybe we can figure something out between all of us.”

“Of course, Master SoYa,” the young Sygnus nodded without a second’s worth of thought. “Anything for Lord Zemi.”

Without further discussion, they rose to their feet — two winged girls, an Athrylith, a Sygnus and a Spirit from the Time Before – and made their way towards the resting chamber of the Arweinydd.

]]> http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-4/feed 9 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-3 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-3#comments Fri, 02 Jan 2009 04:48:08 +0000 Aywren http://www.dreigiau.com/?p=1002

The Marked Champion of Zerom stood over the young Sygnus—the shadowed wings extended, black-bladed scythe held between clawed hands.

What is this place?

Lucci peered around the strange chamber, taking a cautious step forward. His limbs felt suspended and his motions were sluggish. Light flickered from above through draping veils of various colors, casting twisted and eerie shadows over the walls. The floor was caked with grime and decay, somewhat squishy as he walked over it.

Why is this place familiar?

Long, deflated figures lay crumpled against the far wall. Dark stains molded with age charted rivers across the floor. Faceless, the figures were covered in long rotted squares of cloth that writhed with the squiggling infection of death vermin and bugs. The stench was overwhelming, turning his stomach inside out.

“Ugh!” Lucci covered his nose and mouth, fighting the bile that rose in his throat. As he did, he stumbled, slipping backwards against something cold and metal.

Peering over one shoulder, he could make out some sort of machine, unlike anything he had ever seen before. There was one long, slender capsule, standing upright within its fixtures. Except for the small glass area near the top, it was completely enclosed in a featureless black case. Numerous clear tubes and snaking wires ran into the shell from a small boxlike device.

His eyes traced the spiderwebbing wires, peering away from the first capsule to observe the second. It looked to have once been some clear, glass globe. But now it stood shattered, pieces scattered over the molding floor. Looking at it left a cold chill in the pit of his stomach.

I’ve got to figure out where I am… and how to get out of here.

Just as the thought brushed through his mind, Lucci heard the sound of a low, guttural growl. Prickles spread across his skin as he stiffened. There were not many things that the young Sygnus feared… but something about this sound left his breath cold in his chest.

Silver eyes turned, peering across the room. A shadow stood there. The outline of a man.

No… it can’t be…

The shape began to approach, the growl growing louder, reverberating within Lucci’s mind. The young Sygnus pressed back against the cold metal of the machine, his hands scrabbling over the slimy surface as if to find something to fend away the darkness.

As it came nearer, Lucci began to make out the features. Intense, dark eyes. The shock of side-swept hair. Mouth curled back in a disgruntled scowl, showing the hint of fangs. A strange scrawled Mark ran along one cheek.

“Master TsuYa!” he gasped, relaxing somewhat at the sight. It was Master TsuYa… as he was before that terrible day. Before the transformation had taken him. Lucci reached his hand forward. “Please… come back with me! Whatever has happened to you, we can fix it. You just have to give us time!”

Master TsuYa reeled back, shattering the air with a piercing, inhuman shriek. The sound ripped through Lucci’s mind with a terrible, searing pain. Though the young Sygnus clamped his hands over his ears, nothing could shut it out. He found his own voice rising in a tortured scream.

Through squinty eyes he could see it happening all over again. The darkness creeping over Master TsuYa’s form, bleeding through his skin, into his hair. Wings bursting from his shoulders with a sickly sound. Skin erupting as black spikes tore through flesh and cloth. Thick black blood splashing across the wall and the floor.

Hollowed black eyes burning with a terrible, haunted light.

“No! Nooo!” Lucci felt panic taking him as he backed away. He slipped through the grime, gagging as he breathed mouthfuls of the putrid decay with every gasp. “Please!”

The Marked Champion of Zerom stood over the young Sygnus—the shadowed wings extended, black-bladed scythe held between clawed hands. A low rumbling growl shook the room as the creature advanced, a trickle of black streaming from the reflectionless depths of his eyes.

Then, the growl began to form words, “You shouldn’t be here, kid! Get out!”

Lucci didn’t know what was more shocking: the fact that he wasn’t getting mauled… the fact that the Marked could speak… or the fact that Master TsuYa seemed aware enough to recognize him.

So there really IS something of Master TsuYa left…

Lucci heard his retort, foolish and idealistic even to his ears, “No! I’m not leaving without bringing you back!”

The growl shifted into a nasty snarl, “It’s too late for me, boy. But if he gets his hands on you, it’s too late for everyone!”

“That’s not going to happen!” Lucci protested, taking a slow step forward.

“Don’t be ridiculous! You can’t possibly–” Master TsuYa’s argument fell silent as the dark eyes shot one quick glance over his shoulder. When he rounded his attention back on the young Sygnus, the bladed scythe lifted. “No time — he’s come! Get out of here! And don’t come back!”

“Master TsuYa! Wait!” he stumbled back, hands lifting in feeble defense.

The Marked Champion’s face twisted in a snarling roar, the scythe lashing out at lightning speed. Lucci was knocked back by the raw strength of the blow, a searing pain jolting through his body. His frightened cry echoed from the cold walls, falling muffled before rising up strong again.

“Lucci!” Suzume’s shout suddenly rang in his ears. He could feel someone shaking him, fighting to bring him back to reality. “Lucci, wake up!”

Reality… where he found himself sprawled on the floor next to his bed, face drenched with fearful sweat. He struggled to sit up, his shaking arms having a mind of their own. His silver eyes focused on the frightened face of the dark haired girl who stood over him, little fingers still holding fast to his shirt front.

She looked like she might start crying at any moment.

“Suzume… I’m… alright,” he tried for his best comforting tone. But he couldn’t hide the fear that seeped into his voice.

The girl was already checking him over, pulling up his sleeves and yanking up his shirt.

“AH! Suzume!” Lucci protested with a rising flush of embarrassment. “What are you doing!?”

“You had a nightmare, didn’t you?” the dark haired girl sniffled. “Master TsuYa had them, too. All the time! And he got that terrible Mark… and his skin turned colors…”

“Whoa… whoa! Suzume,” he captured her little hands in his. Though he was shaken by the instant connection she had made between his nightmare and Master TsuYa, he continued to do his best to calm her down. “Look at me.”

Suzume gave a little hiccup and looked up at him.

“I’m alright,” Lucci told her, silver eyes searching her dark ones. “Okay?”

The girl didn’t respond. She simply gave a choked sound and threw her arms around his neck.

It was difficult for her not to be afraid, he knew. She had been there to see Master TsuYa’s transformation… sometimes she even seemed to blame herself for it. And though Lucci had done the best he could to keep the girl company, she knew more than anyone else what he really wanted to be doing.

She knew how he wanted to take the dark blade he found at the peak of the Obelisk and embark on a personal crusade across the Cleft. How he wanted to challenge the darkness of Zerom… how he wanted to destroy the Chaotic Arweinydd that now devoured their homelands.

But they won’t let me…

Despite the fact that Lucci had the weapon that could bring Zeromus down – perhaps the only thing that could truly threaten him – they wouldn’t let him return to Nefol to fight the final battle. No matter how he argued. No matter how he pleaded, pouted, fumed and implored. They wouldn’t listen to a word he said.

They still treat me like I’m nothing more than a child.

Lucci looked at his hand where it lay gently on Suzume’s head. It was broad and strong now… large enough to wield the length of his sword. Powerful enough to challenge the one that claimed to be his father.

But no one believed in his strength.

No one trusts a Sygnus.

Just then, a hesitant knock came at the far door. Both turned to look at it, stopped in mid-though and mid-sniffle.

Suzume’s eyes widened, “That’s right..! I came to find you because Master SoYa and Lady AsaHi wanted to speak with you!”

“What?” Lucci sat up with a jolt.

It had been so long since he had seen either of them… not since before he left the Islands on his journey. His gaze fell on his tousled reflection in the mirror as he scrambled to his feet.

They can’t see me like this!

“Lucci?” Suzume gave him a funny look as he began to dig out a fresh pair of trousers from his laundry stack.

“Tell them I’ll be out in just a moment!” both hands on her shoulders, he gave the girl a gentle nudge out the door.

“But–”

“I’m changing!” he exclaimed, quickly shutting the door behind her.

He could hear Suzume’s fluster huff from the other side as she went to relay his message. But he was too busy scrambling to find an unwrinkled shirt that he could still fit into. Fixing his long silver hair, Lucci scowled at his face in the mirror and scrubbed at the strange silver markings along his cheek.

What are they going to think of me?

Both Lady AsaHi and Master SoYa had always been so kind to him, ever since he could first remember. They had both believed in him even when so few had. It was difficult to think that he would have to face them… now that he had so obviously become more like the Sygnus, the Bane of their legends.

I suppose it’s a good sign that they came here to talk to me. Maybe there’s something I can do to help them… and then they’ll like me.

With one long breath, Lucci straightened the front of his tunic. Checked his boots. Rolled up the uneven end of his sleeves. Studied the hem of his now-too-short-cloak.

Then promptly lost all courage to reach for the doorknob.

“Lucci-boy…” Kaz’s soft voice intoned from somewhere on the far side of the room.

The young Sygnus glanced over.

“Don’t be afraid,” the words spoke without form. Kaz seemed to be able to manifest whenever he felt the need to… but even then, he didn’t always show up.

“I’m trying.”

“I get the funny feeling something important is happening,” Kaz continued. “I think they need you.”

“Really?” Lucci’s face spoke uncertainty.

“Why don’t you go and find out.”

Just that quickly, he knew that Kaz had vanished.

“Find out…” Lucci echoed. Then working up the last of his courage, he reached out and turned the door knob.

]]> http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-3/feed 1 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch19-8 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch19-8#comments Fri, 07 Nov 2008 04:26:46 +0000 Aywren http://www.dreigiau.com/?p=881

He struggled and howled, face streaked with black tears as he fought.

Lucci didn’t realize that he had drawn his sword until he saw the quivering tip of the blade pointed at TsuYa. His hands were shaking. Tears stung his eyes. The whimper of Suzume rose to his ears from where the little girl hid behind his legs. JouKa sat, collapsed against a crate, her head covered with both arms, sobbing and hysterical.

KoGuRai had stood no chance against the Marked form of TsuYa. Already his remains were decaying, sinking into the puddle of black oozing blood. It flaked away into dark dust… nothing left but the sheen of silver helm that sat pinned under TsuYa’s heavy boot.

What do I do? What do I do? I can’t fight Master TsuYa! But… he’s become…

One Marked Champion had fallen… only for another to take its place.

Maybe that has been Zeromus’ plan all along? Maybe he never wanted KoGuRai as his Champion at all. He was just using him… like bait… to push Master TsuYa into turning Marked.

A low growl rose from TsuYa’s throat as pure black eyes focused on them. He reached down and picked the helm up, shaking it free from the clinging darkness.

And it worked…

Lucci readjusted his grip on the blade, keeping himself between the girls and the newly Marked Champion of Zeromus. Something in his chest ached terrible. He knew if he had only been a little faster… if he had gotten the sword to the Inner Realms sooner… that maybe TsuYa would have been spared this horrible fate.

But something else was there. Something that Lucci could sense still boiling, battling, struggling under the mask of shadows that had encased the warrior. Perhaps it was because TsuYa had become Awakened before Zeromus managed to take him. Or perhaps it was because his will and desire for freedom was simply that strong. No matter the reason, Lucci could feel it still, something of TsuYa was there. Aware.

And he was not attacking them.

Even, physically, TsuYa’s body fought to preserve itself. Though his hair and wings had grown dark, Lucci could see that there was still one light streak running through his bangs, a shock of white that fell down into his eyes. Something left from before.

Zeromus chose a difficult spirit to try to capture…

Somewhere in the distance he could sense it… the feeling of the Arweinydd Zazo and the Watcher Aur. They were coming, no doubt, called there by the release of energy, both Awakened and Marked. The smallest inkling of hope rose in Lucci’s chest. The thought that if there was something still left of TsuYa… that maybe he could still be saved. That he could be returned to his rightful form. That the Marked might be contained.

If I can just keep him here, peaceful, long enough for them to reach us.

“Master TsuYa?” Lucci’s voice quavered as he took the chance to lower his blade just a little. “Master TsuYa… do you remember me? Do you know who you are?”

Dark eyes watched the young Sygnus, a low growl the only answer.

Please Lady Zazo… come quickly…

Lucci took another chance, slowly moving forward. His breath came in frightened gasps, eyes never leaving the dark, Marked Champion. He froze as the growl grew into a fierce snarl. Then the snarl somehow managed to form words.

“LuShi… stay back! Stay away from me!” TsuYa grated through bared fangs.

“Master TsuYa?! Please… just stay calm… we can help you!”

“Nooo…” he moaned. His voice was very much like his voice always was. Just more frightened. More strained. “Nooo…. It’s over. I’m… one of them. I’m…”

“Not yet! You can’t give into him,” Lucci encouraged, taking another step forward. “As long as there’s part of you still aware, we might be able to–”

Suddenly, TsuYa broke out in a terrible yowl, clutching his head between clawed hands. He buckled over, screeching in pain. “Get him out of my head! Get him out of my heaaaaad!”

Lucci jumped back in shock as the warrior began to stagger around, slamming himself against the stone walls. Suzume gave a cry, huddling next to the glassy-eyed JouKa, covering her face with her hands. The young Sygnus reached forward, trying to intercept, only to be shoved away.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!” the half-scream, half-screech was chilling. The sound of a soul being consumed. “GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD!!”

-TsuYaaaaaa!!-

The glowing form of the white wolf sprung over the pile of crates at the far end of the passageway. Running all out, her green eyes held a look of worry that Lucci had never seen before. With one great lunge she leapt up, landing square on TsuYa’s back. It took all of her force to wrestle him down and keep him pinned, even as large as she was.

He struggled and howled, face streaked with black tears as he fought. Choking and gasping, the words became less words as the darkness began to twist and taint his mind.

-TsuYa! No! Hold on to me! I can fix this! I can fix this! I promise! Just don’t go!- Frantic, the she-wolf shoved her muzzle down into his face. As if her will and words alone would be enough to save him.

“Nooo! Noooo!!” He responded with terrified hisses and raking claws. If she had been a physical being, he would have shredded her face in his struggle. “Stay away from me! Stay away from meeee! Arweinydd! Stay away from meeeeeeeee!”

-TsuYa! Please! It’s me! It’s Zazo!-

But her words could not comfort his panic as his body began to convulse again. More spikes began to shred through his skin… the transformation slowly growing worse.

Aur and Oren arrived, not far on the heels of the she wolf. The Watcher stood for a long moment, observing the pleading Arweinydd and the struggling Marked. And for the first time, something like true emotion washed over his face. Pity. Sorrow. Sympathy. He seemed to be having trouble breathing as he gathered up Suzume in his strong arms, covering her crying face protectively.

Oren had also come quickly, his ruddy face horrified as he recognized the Marked creature before him. Without so much as a word, he retrieved JouKa’s limp form and carried her away. He murmured quiet words of concern under his breath as he gently brushed the hair out of the winged girl’s face.

-He’s not calming down!!- Zazo was frantic as she fought to keep the Marked pinned under her paws.

“LET ME GO!” TsuYa’s voice cracked, half shrieking as his back arched in pain. With a gurgling sound, he turned the dark claws on himself, leaving long trails of dark gashes along his face and chest.

The Arweinydd gave a defeated cry, watching as he maimed himself, shoving her nose between his head and his claws. Doing everything she could to stop the unstoppable. Finally, with a great heave, TsuYa cast her off. The moment he was free, he leapt to his feet, wings spread wide. One hand clamped around the grip of the scythe that had been left, lying in the street.

-Tsu!!!-

“Sta..aay… baack…” he hissed, holding the scythe in front of him as he crouched, ready to fight.

-Please don’t do this. Please… come back with me. Zem and I… we can fix this! You have to believe me, Tsu!-

But the Marked Champion could only reel back, face lined with pain. The howl escaped his lips again, as he was driven to mindlessness, “He’s in my head! Get him out of my head!”

“Lady Zazo! Be careful!” Lucci gave a warning call. It was hard to tell if TsuYa was going to actually use the weapon – of his own free will or not.

Before either of them could say a word, the black wings spread wide into the air. With an agile leap, the Marked warrior launched into the sky, dark scythe held between his fists. One bound had him on top of the nearby roof. The next cast him up towards the dimming clouds.

“Waaait!” Lucci called.

But it was no good. The Marked instinct was driving him. With nothing to lose. Nothing left to hold him, TsuYa fled, leaving nothing but a stream of black along the stone wall.

For a moment, it seemed as if Zazo might follow. But as the winged figure grew smaller and more distant over the lilac trees, she did nothing but stand and watch. With a startling sound, the she wolf threw her head back, shattering the air with a long, mournful howl.

Lucci, too, could only stand and watch as shock numbed his body. Realization began to flood over him. Realization followed by a deep, rending sadness.

They had lost Ceiswyr. They had lost TsuYa. But they had not yet lost the war.

I still have the sword.

Lucci looked down at the flat of the blade. The silver steel reflected his image coldly. Suggestively. And he knew exactly what he needed to do.

No matter what. I’m going to pay him back for all the people he’s hurt.

The young Sygnus’ hand tightened on the blade’s grip.

I’m going to destroy Zeromus.

The little winged girl was safe, cradled against his chest.

“TsuuuuYaaaa!” KoGuRai’s face contorted in an animalistic snarl. His dark eyes focused sharply on the warrior, full of hate and fury.

“Did you forget about me?” TsuYa smirked. He coolly wiping his blade off on the edge of his coat only to find, to his dismay, that the black ooze ate right through the cloth.

“Turn around and walk away. This is between me… and LuShi,” the Champion sneered.

“Oh? Then why are you dragging little girls into this? Are you trying to break your record for hostage taking… the coward that you are,” he sneered back.

This time… this is it. This time… you’re not walking away alive, KoGuRai. We already know your tricks. It’s time for this to stop.

TsuYa ground his heel against the stone, poised and ready to strike. KoGuRai took a step back, nursing his wounded shoulder, both fists clamped tightly around the haft of his naginata. But before any blows could be exchanged, a shout rang out across path.

“TsuYa! TsuYa, wait!!”

The warrior gave a quiet curse under his breath. Things were about to get even more complicated.

“JouKa..?” KoGuRai paused, turning at the sound. It was strange how the Marked Champion could throw out scathing threats with the same voice that could sound so concerned.

The winged girl rushed out into the center of the fray, eyes wide as she stared between them. Then she stopped, peering straight at KoGuRai for a long, long time. For once, she seemed completely lost for words.

KoGuRai also stared at her, lowering his weapon just a bit. The silence between them was awkward and heavy. Finally, he took a step towards her. “JouKa… I’ve finally found you. Have you come to me at last?”

TsuYa made a blech face.

“KoGu… what… what… ‘ave you done?” she shook her head, taking a step back.

“Wait. Wait, JouKa. I can explain everything… just listen…” he approached, with hands wide in a gesture that spoke of harmlessness.

“Explain? Explain… what? The village ya razed? All of the people ya killed?” her voice was quiet, nothing more but a shaken whisper. “‘Ow can you possibly explain somethin’ like that?”

“Village…?” his face grew as pale as a Marked complexion could. “No… that wasn’t me, JouKa! I swear!”

“Then who was it, KoGu? Someone that looked like you and yer pet Esgyll?” she retorted hotly.

“If you’d just let me talk, I could tell you.”

“Then tell me about Mister NaDo. And about takin’ him ‘ostage. Splittin’ his back straight open. Tell me that wasn’t something that ya did, KoGuRai?” JouKa gave him a sick, pained look.

“JouKa…”

“You didn’t ‘ave to ‘eal those people — I did!” she snapped, not allowing him a moment of explanation. “I saw what came of it all… and I just can’t believe…”

KoGuRai fell silent, looking down at his fists, gripping the haft of his naginata. His hands were shaking as if fighting back some kind of internal violence.

“What’s ‘appened to you?” tears shown in her eyes. “I wanted to believe in you. But after what I’ve seen, all I can think is… you really ‘ave become a monster!”

The Marked Champion’s head snapped up with a bitter glare. The expression that had been concerned and shocked had turned cold and distant.

“I see what’s going on here,” KoGuRai’s voice grew low and gravely. His dark eyes shifted from JouKa to TsuYa and back again. “TsuYa’s turned you against me, hasn’t he? You’ve fallen for him while I was gone. You’ve fallen for him and you’ve betrayed me to him, haven’t you?”

“What? KoGu… what in the name of the Light are you talkin’ about?” she shook her head with a frustrated and confused look.

“You know what I’m talking about!” before she could pull back, his hand shot out, grabbing her roughly around the wrist. The air crackled red, furious Chaos. KoGuRai was losing himself. “All this time I was trying to find you again. I was promised that he would give you to me and we would take Nefol together! But you’ve ruined it all! You’ve run off with TsuYa!”

“KoGu!!” JouKa’s voice raised an octave, for the first time, real fear shown in her eyes as he loomed huge above her. “It’s not like that at all!”

“Are you Promised to him!?” KoGuRai almost roared, fangs gleaming as he pulled her closer.

“NO! KOGU! Yer ‘urtin’ me!!” the winged girl yanked back in pain. TsuYa could see the strength of the Marked Champion’s fist closing tighter around the girl’s arm. And he knew exactly how strong a Marked could be.

“STOPPIT!!” TsuYa leapt forward with a snarl of his own, slamming between JouKa and KoGuRai. “LET HER GO!”

The winged girl stumbled back, knocked free from the terrible grip… just at the same moment the Marked claw slashed out, leaving long, bloody gashes straight through TsuYa’s shoulder. He gave a choking gasp at the unexpected pain, dodging just as the claw came for him again.

Somewhere in the distance he heard JouKa’s scream and the choked cry of Suzume. The world wavered and shifted around him as his senses tunneled. Fury began to burn within. Everything focused on the dark winged figure of the Marked Champion before him. His rival. His enemy. One who would kill and destroy in order to steal everything that his family had sacrificed everything for – Nefol… his people… his friends…

I won’t let you hurt them!

KoGuRai bore down on him with blade in hand, a dark maelstrom of hate. His wings stretched wide, the twisted taint of Chaos choked the air. Animalistic insanity and bloodlust had transformed the Marked Champion’s face – if there was anything left of the son of JinRai, it was impossible to see it.

TsuYa floundered back, barely deflecting the blows that came again. And again. And again. His shoulder was in shreds, wounds open and burning with the acidic nature of the Marked attacks. His chest grew tight, breath rasping in his lungs as he fought to keep his feet under him.

I… can’t. I can’t hold up under this! He’s so strong!

Pain exploded along his left side. TsuYa watched, to his horror, as dark crimson fountained from KoGuRai’s blade as it tore into his body. His cry was wretched… so unlike the warrior he had fought to be. For years and years and years. All the training and hardship. Everything that he had strove to be… to be like his father. His brother. The ones that people respected.

And I will die like this… on the end of this monster’s blade…?

Eyes darkening, TsuYa’s face broke into a snarl of his own.

I refuse!

With an agonized groan, he pulled himself off of the point of the naginata. KoGuRai loomed over him, a smug look of triumph stretched over his face. The battle was won in his mind. He was merely toying with TsuYa now… doing everything he could to make the warrior’s death as shamed and futile as possible.

That will be your biggest mistake!

Distantly, he heard the sound of voices. JouKa and LuShi calling frantically. TsuYa could only watch with horrified, blurry eyes as Suzume rushed out between, little wings unfolded. She darted in, face angry and determined, yelling at KoGuRai as loud as her child-voice allowed.

Kid! What are you doing!?

Something grew deathly cold within his chest as he saw the glint of KoGuRai’s blade flash. The naginata lifted into the air, poised above the child’s head. So deliberate. The Marked Champion’s expression did not change… as if it was nothing more to him than swatting away a meaningless irritation.

Suzume!!

Fingers digging into the ground, TsuYa drove himself back up on his feet. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. His body wasn’t responding. Everything felt so cold, as if all the heat had rushed out of his body.

I WON’T LET YOU!

A dazzling white light suddenly flooded the world. In the brilliance of the flash, he could make out KoGuRai reeling back, wincing against the blinding radiance. Suzume gave a shout, falling back in surprise, but unharmed.

His arms were around her. Just that sudden. TsuYa hadn’t realized he had the strength to move. But he was there. The little winged girl was safe, cradled against his chest.

Suzume stared up at him with awe. TsuYa could see his reflection in her dark eyes… he realized that the light was coming from him. Her voice was hardly a whisper when she spoke, “Wings…”

What…?

Stretching wide around him were wings of luminous white. Wings that belonged to him.

No way…! I’m…

Wings that looked exactly like Father’s. So much like Father’s, in fact, that TsuYa almost gave a shout for joy. For once, he could feel it… the endless possibilities. The potentials within himself. That he could be exactly what he had always dreamed of being. What he had worked so hard to become.

I’m Awakened!! I’m-

The sharp sound of a crack shattered his world. Pain. Terrible burning pain suddenly rushed through every inch of his body. The look of delight and awe on Suzume’s face shifted instantly to fear. With a strangled sound, he released the winged girl, stumbling away from her.

“TsuYa!! TsuYa!! Are you alright!?” she called to him.

He tried to answer, but no words would come. Nothing in his throat but a low, terrible growl. It bubbled and frothed its way out of his mouth, then shattered the air with an animalistic shriek. He clutched frantically at the source of the sudden pain, at his throat, just under his shirt. His fingers came away bloody. Blood that slowly turned black. Black like Marked blood.

NOO! NOOO!

Where Aur’s protective medallion had once hung around his neck, there was nothing left but a warped piece of blackened metal. And he realized, in horror, that under the pressure of his Awakening, the amulet had broken. It was destroyed.

PLEASE NO!!

And with it, his protection against the darkness had fled. Not even the power of Awakening seemed to be enough to protect him.

Please… please help me…

It felt like something was tearing him from inside out. His blood at once burned and froze. His body trembling as he convulsed, dropping him to his knees. He tried to cry out in agony, but nothing came except hisses and growls.

-No one can help you now, TsuYa… You are MINE.-

TsuYa’s flesh had darkened to grey, spotting black. His skin began to split as dark spikes of black burst through. A sharp rip as his coat gave way — his form growing and expanding far beyond his normal size. Black blood streamed from the bubbling wounds… from his eyes… his mouth… his nose… the Mark along his cheek. The darkness bled into his hair. Along the lines of his wings… until black feathers dripped with thick ooze.

And the terrible voice sounded in his mind.

-My Champion… greatness waits for you. Now come to me. Come to me…-

He fought it with every last bit of strength in him. Snarling and shrieking against the voice that invaded his thoughts. Everything was a blur. The world spun dizzy around him as the pressure of Chaos closed in on him. The sound of metal clashing, shrieks and battle were so distant and far away.

When he finally found breath again, it was rasping hisses. He stared down at his hands – now nothing more than beastly claws. And the thick black blood that ran over them. He realized the blood was not his own. Looking down at the ground, he saw the mangled and motionless form of KoGuRai’s body, the silver helm bent under the heel of his boot.

Is he… is KoGuRai… dead..?

Sickness welled up in the pit of his stomach. Sickness as he saw the blurred and twisted reflection of his face in the smudged sheen of the metal helm. KoGuRai was not rising. A pool of black spread around him where he lay in the dust.

TsuYa had won, he realized. He had taken the life of his enemy. But he had lost himself in return.