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#Post#: 1243--------------------------------------------------
Re: Rebirth ~ The Price of Eternity [A Fan-written Restoration]
By: Danko Kaji Date: December 28, 2016, 3:31 am
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Chapter 8
Tentative Title:
Of Divergent Winds
---[/center]
(A/N): So far, this chapter happens to be my favorite dialogue
scene in the entire story. Yuna's thoughts and feelings really
answered a lot of questions about what exactly did she make
public knowledge (and what she didn't), as well as why the heck
those grandmas are so strict (bc they be sick and tired of her
wishy-washy, shiitake mushrooms). It pretty much throws a lot of
annoying and unbelievable details into wonderful perspective.
[center]*[/center]
The Aurochs Ace swayed to the whim of the waves.
Tidus did not know how much time had passed since they abandoned
the rudder, but grey clouds still hid the light of the moon and
stars from view.
He lied on his side, daydreaming, his eyes drawn to the white
hood of her summoner garb peeking out from across the room on
the sofa, almost glowing in the gloomy dark. He sensed her slow
breathing against the nape of his neck, lulled by the warm,
comforting perfume of her breath. A few minutes ago, he had
turned over to face his thoughts, and Yuna had not stirred from
his movements, except to snuggle against his back.
In the dark, Tidus lost all notion of time.
None of their friends, despite their conversation, amiable
company, and constant reassurances managed to clear any of his
unease, which tormented him. But a single moment by Yuna’s side
somehow swept away all of his worry, and he cherished that.
However, a heavy gloom still persisted in seeping into his every
senses. He felt it encroach upon him like an internal wound,
bleeding without an outlet, tightening his muscles and weighing
in his stomach. And then he identified the feeling as
self-blame.
Why? What caused him to dwell on this culpability?
That helplessness of being gone for two whole years, causing
Yuna grief over his choice. He chose to end the cycle at the
cost of his existence for Yuna’s sake, without once asking how
she felt, and now he wondered if he made the right choice. He
had no other choice. The Fayth chose his father for that role,
and Tidus had been next in line when Jecht failed. He thought he
made the right call…
No matter how many times he repeated it, it didn’t erase the
fact: he abandoned her, and she had been all alone. Did he
deserve happiness with the woman he loved?
Yuna stirred, and Tidus closed his eyes, feigning sleep.
He could sense her eyes boring into his back.
After a long, quiet moment, she stood up on the mattress and
walked over his body, in order not to disturb him in his sleep.
He continued to listen to her tiptoe in the dark, feeling her
way along the space between the table and bed, eventually
picking up the clothes she had left on the floor so she could
dress up again.
The boat pitched all of a sudden, startling him enough to open
his eyes, catching her own.
“Sorry. Did I wake you? I’ll be right back.”
She leaned in with a smile, kissing him on the lips, and Tidus
blushed.
He resolved to leave his somber thoughts, because nothing
justified in having them. He sat up, swinging his legs to sit at
the edge of the mattress, and stood to follow the retreating hem
of her white dress into the gangway. Climbing halfway up the
stairs, he heard a loud, dull thud right above him, and he
dashed up the stairs two steps at a time until he finally
reached her.
He found her grasping the rudder wheel, as if she caught herself
in mid-stumble, balancing herself on one foot, peeking outside.
“It’s hard to see. So dark, ow…”
“What was that noise? Did you hurt yourself?”
She gave him a sheepish smile, combing her fringe out of the way
to show her swollen red forehead.
“That’s not funny!” Anger rose from worry, and it surprised him
when he couldn’t close the lid on it fast enough. “Don’t look so
peaceful about it. If you’re in pain, you have the right to
complain. Whether the pain is physical or something even much
deeper, don’t hesitate to tell me about it. I’m here for you.”
She stared, startled by his outburst. “...okay.”
“I came back for this reason, you know.”
“Very well.” She smiled, thoughtful. “You know, we won’t be able
to whistle anymore.”
“Huh? What d’you mean?”
“To call for each other. If we’re together all the time…” Yuna
trailed off, becoming shy now in his presence.
“Oh. Huh. That’s right.” The thought made him smile, and then
silence fell between them, motivating him to step closer.
Yuna frowned, reluctant to stay close, and then she stepped
back, averting her eyes, wringing her hands in that old nervous
habit of hers. “Forgive me, I… We need to talk about something.”
“Ah…” In order to hide his embarrassment, Tidus stepped back to
stand in front of the porthole, gazing out into the dark
horizon. Only the seafoam stood out in the blackness. Couldn’t
this thing have waited until after they had time to settle down
and relax together? They didn’t have much longer to enjoy their
quality time together before Yuna must return to answer for her
disappearance.
“The elders have been asking me about everything that occurred
in the temples… Learning that the Grand Maester was an Unsent;
that he didn’t want happiness for Spira, but only to ensure the
continuation of his cult… That Yevon’s teachings to defeat Sin
were in fact a way to bring it back to life…”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve remained silent on the subject for a long time. I’ve never
told them the full truth behind my role in those events. I’ve
never said how exactly I had defeated Sin for good, nor how I
believed that Yevon’s teachings were just a pack of lies or that
the Church had become a parasite of our world. I’ve never
mentioned these subjects. Not with most people, at any rate.”
“I can imagine. It’d be quite a shock for the faithful.”
“Yes. Some people may become mad at me, or even hate me.”
“I see.”
“Because of this, after the death of Grand Maester Yo Mika and
the appearance of the Movement of Truth, the Yevon clergy
decided to reform into a political faction known as New Yevon,
with Baralai…” She trailed off, creasing her brow in thought,
the shadows of an unspoken sentiment flitting across her eyes.
“Oh, that’s right, you don’t know who Baralai is…”
“Rikku and the others have told me about him. He’s very close to
Nooj and Gippal, right?”
“That’s right. Where was I?”
“But what’re you trying to say?” Tidus pressed, impatient.
“I kept most of these events secret because I was worried. But
the elders wanted to know everything. They have begged and
cried, and even have accused me of egotism. Remaining silent for
so long, for fear of what others would think, apparently that is
vanity. They insisted that if I explained it to them, they would
understand, and they wouldn’t hold a grudge against me, so…”
“So? Tell them! Tell them about how the old crook Mika kept the
machina all to himself. Tell them about what that bastard
Seymour did--!”
“I’ve told them. It has taken some time, but I’ve told them
everything.”
“And?”
“They listened to me without interruption.”
“Well, that’s great! All the better!” He smiled, relieved. For
such good news, he didn’t know why Yuna didn’t sound so excited
about that. He couldn’t even figure out where this conversation
was leading them.
She shook her head. “No, that’s not good.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Afterwards, they asked me: ‘Now to whom will we be able to
trust in order to guide us in our lives?’” She quoted them,
morose.
“They can decide for themselves, can’t they?”
“They’ve asked me if they must forget Yevon’s teachings.”
“Of course! It was a sham!”
Yuna lowered her eyes, shaking her head.
Tidus became wary all of a sudden. Did he say something wrong?
“What?”
“I’ve followed the teachings, too. Admittedly, it contained
despicable lies, but the rest of it wasn’t all bad. After all,
I’ve led a happy life, and I met you.”
“Yuna!”
Surely she’s not going to call their fateful meeting “a gift of
Yevon,” too. That’d be laying the gratitude thick. And to keep
up the spirit of the argument, Yuna decided to use his previous
words against him.
“And what’s wrong with the elders wanting to believe in the
teachings? It’s their choice.”
At that, Tidus forced himself to concede. “You may be right…”
“So I must go back tomorrow.”
“What?”
“I promised I’d join them in order to find a new prayer text.”
“But why do they need you?”
“It’s my fault that they’ve lost their faith.”
“But don’t you think you’ve done enough for them?”
“That’s not a reason for me to cross my arms and do nothing.”
“Yuna…”
In his moment of disbelief, the words he wanted to say tangled
in his throat, he noticed the ornament which hung from her ear,
the full length of its blue cylindrical beads shrouded within
her brown hair. He hadn’t seen her wear it in the cabin. When
did she take the time to put it on again? Since Tidus had met
her, she had always worn it, a present probably from Kimahri
going by its tribal yellow design, but the color had never
faded.
‘It's like... I’m the only one who’s changed.’
“Yes?” She called out out to him again.
“It’s nothing,” he said, loudly, to dispel his thoughts. “I
understand. Let’s hurry back to the village. We just need to
find the right direction.”
“I’m sorry.”
Now he felt guilty that she felt the need to apologize. It’s not
what she said, but the fact she refused a kiss from him in the
first place, that put him in a bad mood. They hadn’t seen each
other in so long, two years since they were last intimate, that
Tidus did not understand why she still wanted the distance.
“It’s all my fault,” he said, hoping that would absolve her of
self-blame, and proceeded to turn his back on her to hide his
unease.
“I noticed, a bit earlier…” She spoke up after a long, heavy
silence, her voice ringing clear in the salty air. “That we
aren’t very good at apologizing to each other. During the weeks
we traveled throughout Spira, climbing Mt. Gagazet, fighting Sin
and then eventually Yevon… And during the two years we were
separated, with no letter or news-- my feelings have only grown
stronger. And then, this morning, you came back to me, just like
that. Now, I know who you are and who I am. I know we can make
an effort to understand each other. Hey, are you listening to
me?”
“Yes, of course.”
He tried to stifle the tears threatening to burst from his eye
sockets.
“When I met you, I was seventeen years old, and I’d fallen madly
in love with you. Now that we’re together again…”
Unable to handle not looking at her, he turned around to face
her, spellbound by the sight of her swinging her hips in a
gleeful manner, her cheeks pinched pink in a shade of flattering
crimson. She looked so radiant and beautiful, he could already
sense his anger melt away.
“From now on, we’ll have to face life everyday, and above all,
make no mistake-- I still love you. I don’t want to leave you
anymore.”
“Ah…” Now she had gone and done it. He couldn’t fight it
anymore.
She quirked an eyebrow, amused, but more so startled by his lack
of reaction. “‘Ah’...?”
He fought to control his voice, even when it broke under the
weight of his emotion. “I love you, too.”
“What a relief!” She beamed.
Yuna looked like she wanted to say more, but then gave up on it.
She turned around and started using the console sticks, the ones
near the rudder, and for a few seconds, they could only hear the
noise of the buttons she pushed, the stretch of foreboding
silence.
“We may have a problem,” she said, nervous. “I can’t use the
radar. We can’t establish our position.”
Just afterwards, the mini Commsphere that Tidus never noticed
before sitting atop the control panel did not work either. They
were stranded somewhere in the middle of the ocean, with no
means of contacting the outside world.
#Post#: 1244--------------------------------------------------
Re: Rebirth ~ The Price of Eternity [A Fan-written Restoration]
By: Danko Kaji Date: December 28, 2016, 3:58 am
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Chapter 9
Tentative Title:
Of A Fragile Hope
---[/center]
(A/N): So, Bria is rather an... acquired taste, to say the
least. He's a super awkward character who I have a very
difficult time imagining in the casual, peaceful setting of
Besaid. Not to mention, most characters don't know how to act
around this guy. Bria's like that super negative, cynical person
you know in real life who, when engaged in extended conversation
with, sucks the energy out of you. Ever know that feeling? It's
exhausting. D:
I think Lulu has finally found someone who can rival her dry
wit. ;3
[center]*[/center]
The storm raged on throughout the entire night.
During the early morning, the depressed moved away at some point
to the north, littering the coast with algae, antsy sea
critters, and red seaweed. Trudging through debris, the
villagers crossed the beach in order to find remains thrown back
from the sea. As soon as someone found something, the person
would shout, and Wakka or somebody else from the Aurochs would
rush up to determine if the fragment originate from The Ace.
The objects which did not pass inspection were gathered near the
pontoon in order to be burnt, so that the smoke produced by the
sodden wood would point in the direction of Besaid Island to
Yuna and Tidus, in case they were lost out at sea.
Apart from that, there were no other means of communication.
The Al Bhed members of the Gullwings thought that maybe the
Commspheres had broken down all around the same time because the
parts used to create them were discovered at the same level of
technology as those salvaged in Bikanel Desert. Wakka did not
make this concern public knowledge with the rest of the
inhabitants, because he feared that they would lose all trust in
the Al Bhed, or perhaps even blame them for the situation.
Bria stood near the edge of the waters, his eyes glued to the
eerie, calm sea. He had been the last one who spoke to Tidus, so
he felt at part responsible.
“It’s not your fault.” Wakka felt compelled to remind him.
“Fortunately, the storm’s over. If the boat is still floating,
they’ll come back. If that’s not the case, then I’m sure they’ll
find a plank to hold on to. Tidus is strong, and as long as
they’re together, Yuna will be okay.”
Bria still sounded doubtful. “Don’t delude yourself. If they’re
stuck in the water, their body temperature will decrease more
and more with each passing moment, and then--.”
Wakka cut him off, not wanting to hear the rest of that
depressing line of thought. “My delusions don’t concern you!”
The man gave him an apologetic smile, comforted by his vocal
declaration.
“If only we knew how to fix this damn thing!” Wakka huffed, his
eyes fixed on the Celsius. “We could search for them from the
sky. But according to Shinra, we can’t repair it.”
At that, Bria snickered.
Wakka glared. “What’s so funny?”
“The situation. We are dependent on machines. We become more and
more lazy, but when it comes down to it, we are incapable of
repairing them when necessary. Don’t you see? Our sins are
spreading out across Spira, and soon you shall see Sin
returning.”
Wakka crossed his arms, wary of this man. No one made light of
Sin, even after two years after its defeat, the horror of its
reign still fresh in everyone's hearts. Sensing the spite and
derision in his foreboding words, he knew this man couldn’t be
joking. Bria seriously believed the Al Bhed were at fault.
He understood how he felt, but he had long since passed that
ignorant point of his life.
“...You’re talking about the Al Bhed? Cuz if that’s the case,
you’re going too far.”
“Are you honestly not convinced that this,” Bria briskly
gestures to the parked airship, “scrap heap must stay on the
ground? To feel helpless that you are not able to search for
Yuna? After all, you’ve already tried everything. You’ve crossed
all over this beach, gathering wood just to light a fire… That’s
all you can do, right? If she stays lost, that’s destiny. Nobody
would be guilty for that. You’re not at fault. In fact, if you
look at it this way, you’re being prepared to receive the worst
news without feeling responsible.”
“I can’t believe you…" What he suggested burned like asinine to
his ears, and Wakka fought to keep his ire at bay. He wanted
nothing more than to punch the fool. "Ever since she was seven
years old, she’s been like a little sister to me. What you’re
saying is awful!”
“Then move on, Wakka.”
“I know what you’re saying, but…”
He hesitated. Distraught, he shook his head, not wanting to
accept the possible truth in his words. Frustrated at himself
and this hopeless situation, Wakka thought of a better idea. He
would keep believing, even if there lied no guarantee in his
hopes being answered. Even though they found no proof that they
were alive, they also found no proof they were dead, either. He
jumped onto the pontoon, eager to project his voice.
“We gotta do more to find Yuna! Does someone have an idea? I’m
all ears!”
“First thing’s first. If we want to go out looking for them, we
have to fix the only remaining boat we have as soon as
possible.” An elderly man interjected, not once ceasing his work
on the boat in question.
“The Port Kilika shuttle is going to arrive soon. We could ask
the captain to search for her.” Another one of the villagers
proposed. “And if he refuses, we could ask him to solicit the
fishermen from Kilika.”
“But where do we begin the search? The ocean is so vast…”
More voices murmured amongst themselves, echoing their
uncertainty.
Then Bria spoke, dispelling the tense atmosphere.
“All we know is the storm has moved on from the south to the
north. You’re all familiar with the currents that move around
Besaid Island, right? Then, you’re not completely helpless.”
“I know a boy gifted with this kind of calculation.” Wakka piped
up, already jogging in direction of the airship. “I’m going to
talk to him.”
“Does anyone own a marine map of the region?” Bria said.
Letty bolted for the village, citing that he saw one inside the
Crusader’s lodge. As if everyone had been waiting on this kind
of signal, the others that remained on the beach took up their
search again with renewed energy and determination.
“You’re used to setting people to work.”
Bria turned around to regard Lulu who had spoken to him.
“I didn’t do anything.” He shrugged, shaking his head, wanting
to take no part in the credit. “Wakka did. A lot of villagers
follow him faithfully. Now, I think, he’s beginning to realize
just how popular he really is.”
Lulu took a moment to observe her husband, who plunged into the
water to swim towards the airship. The colossal, red structure
stood on the shallows facing the beach, almost as if it were a
sentry overlooking the island of busy people. She nodded in
agreement, pensive.
“It’s been a month since your arrival on the island, Bria.
Unless I am incorrect.”
“Indeed.”
“I believe the time has come for you to explain to us the exact
nature of this ‘New Yevon Church’ business, which has sent you
here.”
“I am a manager of sorts. Aside from the random fiend outbreaks,
thefts have occurred in several temples. Because of this, we
decided to check all the accounts, taking count of stock and
inventory, reimbursing for the losses... That is why I am here.
I will surely receive another assignment soon, but in the
meantime, I wish to carry on taking part in the chores and
caring for the elderly.”
“Are you worried about your reputation?”
Bria narrowed his eyes, suspicious of her charming smile.
“Do you remember your predecessor, the man who was declared
missing?” Lulu pressed, folding her arms below her breasts.
“Yes. I met him the first day I took up the position.”
“Some people have claimed to have seen him haunting the ruins
path, in which he had become a monster.”
“Is that so?”
“According to some witnesses, they go on to say that they can
actually hear him lamenting constantly. What’s more, they can
even make out a name. ‘Bria, Bria, Bria, Bria, Bria…’” She sang
that last sentence in a haunting lilt, testing him, scrutinizing
his impassive face.
“Then, they must have been mistaken. Usually, I find that people
who come across such creatures suffer from auditory
hallucinations.”
“Maybe.” Lulu conceded at that.
But Bria suspected she would not give up so easily, so he
decided to play along if not for his curiosity.
“And who would have bumped into this alleged monster? Do you
know?”
“Me.”
They exchanged tense smiles, waging a battle of attrition.
Before either of them could react, a cry came from the sea. They
turned to spot Wakka standing near the Celsius. Neck deep in the
water, only his head protruded from the surface. Bria waved at
him, and Wakka raised his arms to cross them in the form of an
X. Then, he proceeded to pick up an object that had been
floating close to him, brandishing it high for everyone to see;
a piece of wood painted in yellow varnish. Distress immediately
swept across the beach.
Anyone would have recognize the duplicate blitzball trophy that
normally ornamented the bow of The Ace.
#Post#: 1245--------------------------------------------------
Re: Rebirth ~ The Price of Eternity [A Fan-written Restoration]
By: Danko Kaji Date: December 31, 2016, 5:25 am
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Chapter 10
Tentative Title:
Of Pain
---[/center]
(A/N): I'm really in love with these "pre-story" chapters. I
love this gritty, though-provoking perspective of Bevellian
soldier Valm and his lady Summoner Kush. I love it all,
especially the setting. I think the reason why I find myself
breezing through these chapters in particular because I feel
Nojima's true, passionate voice in this arc the most. It's like
he was itching to tell this side of the Machina War, whereas in
the case of Tidus and Yuna... it's like he's dragging his feet
through mud, in order to tell the story the fans want to read
more. XD
[center]*[/center]
Noontime soon came upon them; Valm knew, because of the length
of the shadow he projected.
Standing atop an air duct, he took advantage of the aerial view
to contemplate the gathering of his surviving comrades. There
were a good ninety-five to sixty-three men left beside
thirty-two women, and among them the youngest were sixteen years
old while the rest were as old as twenty-five. Valm counted
himself among them, at twenty-three.
“Look at them.” Sloan boasted with a roguish smile,
the eldest of the lot. “So disciplined! I like it.”
“That’s right.” He agreed with a wry smile.
“But what about breakfast?”
For the second time in the span of five minutes, Valm’s
grumbling stomach incriminated him and his state of voracious
hunger. He had not eaten anything since the explosion, the night
before, and of course Sloan would notice.
“Couldn’t you have eaten something?”
Valm remembered that the poor man had just said goodbye to his
little brother, and lowered his eyes. “Sorry.”
With a curt smile, his friend gave him a hearty slap on the
shoulder. “You really have no shame! Go eat somewhere in
private and come back when you’re done. It would do us no
good if one of our best just up and fainted in the middle of
battle just because he couldn’t find the time to
eat.”
And with those words, Sloan joined the rest of the Guards in
their circle to thank them for their heartening gestures of
solicitude and pledges of vengeance during his deceased
brother’s obsequies. Valm kept his head bowed, stooping to
one knee on the curved metal plating, taking a silent moment to
grieve for his fallen brother and sisters, before standing
upright with renewed resolve, projecting his voice for all to
hear.
“We can’t afford to lose any more Summoners. From
now on, there are only two. What will we do, if we can’t
protect them?”
‘Nothing,’ Valm swallowed the cold-hard sentiment,
‘because we'll die before we ever let that happen.’
Originally, there were five Summoners stationed on this island.
Six months later, the Guards had already lost Mikka and Kanaela,
and this morning, Anli, too. Now, only Kush and Ifarnal
remained.
While they contributed to the war effort farthest away from
Bevelle, protecting the few Summoners with the cultivated talent
to command pyreflies and mythical beasts while Alb, the top
weapons engineer of Bevelle’s brightest, worked on
perfecting his latest invention to use in the war, the Bevellian
government continued to mass produce their mechanical weapons.
The city appeared to have reached new heights in terms of
technological prowess. Armored units and heavy infantry corps
were steadfast encroaching upon Zanarkand’s mountainous
border, destroying everything in their path.
Day after day, the Guards would receive more news about their
spectacular progression. But when it came to the father-daughter
pair of heretic sages in Zanarkand, their worst fears were not
towards the soldiers who possessed wills of steel or the
inventors most diligent in their pursuit of military might, but
the people who possessed the same raw talent as them: Summoners.
Regardless of the sheer distance, Yevon and Yunalesca sent
assassin after assassin of willing fools to this island,
determined to eradicate their best hope of turning the tide in
this holy war. To this day, only twenty-eight Guards had been
killed during these skirmishes.
“We’re going to form two squads. Line up by
ten!” Sloan ordered, and they carried it out immediately.
“Lines one to eight: search the perimeter under my
command. Kat--.” He pointed to the woman who stood at the
forefront of the group. “Form the units!”
“Yes, sir!” She stuck her chest out, pleased to have
been called upon.
“Lines nine and ten, you guard the base.” Sloan
continued, raising his arm in Valm’s direction where he
stands above them as a solemn sentry, his arms folded at his
back. “When you meet the ten comrades left on-site,
you’ll be under Valm’s command. Your priority: To
protect the Summoners. Go!”
Valm sighs, watching everyone disperse.
“Alright…”
He jumped down from his vantage point and approached his men.
“We’re going to return to base immediately. Be
careful along the way. Kill the enemy as soon as you catch sight
of them. Woman or child, I don’t care. No hesitation! We
mustn't repeat our mistakes.”
“Yes, sir!” The fifteen Guards saluted him in sharp
unison.
They would never forget the day a young boy had washed up on
island’s shore, unable to speak. Believing him to be a
refugee, the men had brought him into their refectory. There,
the child had chosen to detonate himself. The Summoner Mikka met
his death in that attack.
Valm and his fellow Guards personally gathered Mikka’s
remains, which were scattered by the bomb. Whenever he recalled
that day, he could feel the ire boil inside his bloodstream;
every time, he would appeal to the divinity of vengeance,
finding relief amidst his violent thoughts that it happened to
Mikka instead of Kush.
Back at base, he sent a subaltern to fetch him a portion of
today’s leftovers. He devoured it while patrolling GATE 0.
In accordance to their new change in tactics, he might end up
having to close it off; he had commanded young Gekkoh and Romand
beforehand to reposition their visiospheres around GATE 1 and 2.
Protected by enormous stone structures, GATE 0 never had to fear
bomb assaults. In order to conceal their staunch defense from
enemy knowledge, they put together an assembly of steel pipes to
support the veil artificial vegetation. From far away, this
place looked like a simple forest plot. One would have to pass
underneath the shrouded scaffolding to reach GATE 0. Other exits
existed in numerous other places within the island, at the outer
border of the underground air ducts. From the outside, they took
on different shapes in order to blend in with the lush, green
landscape, but from the inside, all of them exhibited the same
interior design. The ventilator, accessible only from the
control room, carried out the primary function of the pipe, but
with its razor sharp blades also prevented intrusion. Whenever a
Guard had to pass, a control panel would allow for the helix to
stop and ensure safe passage, courtesy of the secret code they
modified daily.
Valm ventured through the threshold of GATE 0 to the stateroom,
a round area spacious enough to house the whole personnel of the
island, civilian and soldiers alike, with the exception of the
Bedohls. The stone statues, which represented the divinities
from which they adopted their names, lined up against the wall.
Their sculpted, vacant looks converged at the center of the room
where the altar stood. This room hosted sacred, formal
ceremonies such as baptisms and weddings, and even business
meetings. Behind the altar, a long flight of stairs led to the
inner section of GATE 0 and the dormitories where everyone
slept; the two exits numbered 1 and 2 were located on either
side of the steps.
Valm started to ascend, but then the door to GATE 1 opened,
revealing Kush further down the passage. Curious, he
backtracked, peering down the narrow, dimly-lit corridor of the
basement. This hall led to the armory, as well as the Bedohl
workshop and their own segregated housing; further down the path
should be where the operating machinery resided.
What could she be doing in a mucky place such as this? She had
the right to go there, but…
When Valm opened his mouth to call out to her, he saw a hand
reach out to snatch her by the wrist, wrenching her into the
embrace of darkness. Alarmed by the urgency of that gesture, he
rushed to save her, but then Kush reappeared from the open door
she vanished through, wiping her lips behind the vicious swipe
of her right glove.
Kush immediately ceased her motions when she sensed Valm’s
presence.
“Is everything okay?” He screeched to a halt in
front of her, confused by the flash of tearful frustration in
her eyes.
She avoided eye contact, saying nothing.
And then Valm noticed the man who exited from the workshop.
Ifarnal.
A young and handsome eighteen-year-old Summoner one year
Kush’s junior, who sported an impressive, muscular
physique developed not from martial arts training or extensive
physical labor, but his insufferable love for bodybuilding. He
enjoyed putting it on display with skin-tight clothes popular to
his native city. And yet his face cut quite the ordinary figure,
the kind you would forget right away.
Ifarnal must be conscious of it, because he strove to compensate
for it with a well-toned body and flamboyant clothes, donning a
bright red dye to color his hair (much to the contempt of the
Guards) in order to mask his insecurities. Even the name he
chose -- Ifarnal, the divinity of beauty -- sparked a string of
criticism and mockery. This particular Summoner did not inspire
any respect at all. Valm always thought that Ifarnal could have
benefited more with a reputation for being down-to-earth, but
despite all of his glaring flaws, he made up one out of the two
most important people on this entire island. Over a hundred
Guards had sworn to protect him at the cost of their lives. What
more could he want?
Ifarnal could care less about what the other Guards thought of
him, unconcerned by their shows of blatant disrespect and
disparaging jokes, because the only thing he desired happened to
lie in Valm’s possession: Kush’s affections.
He had yet to obtain it, and Valm would make sure it stayed that
way.
“Is something wrong?” Valm inquired, ignoring the
tension that thickened the air. “The situation
couldn’t be any more dire. We don’t have time for
petty quarrels. If you have a problem with each other, settle it
as quickly as possible.”
Ifarnal opted to ignore him. “The mechanical Bedohl is
ready.”
Anyone could see through the thin veil of his motive to change
the topic, thus avoiding conflict, but Valm couldn’t
pretend to sound displeased by the news.
“Great.”
Ifarnal smiled. “You’ll be even more pleased to know
that the Bedohl has already memorized my voice. Do you want me
to call it?” Without even waiting for an affirmation, he
shouted at the stationary machine to come out. “Bedohl,
come here!”
As the armored humanoid contraption emerged from the doorway,
standing before the trio in wordless obedience, Ifarnal puffed
his chest out with immense pride, as if he had created the false
Bedohl himself. As for Kush, she acted fast to hide behind Valm,
removing herself from Ifarnal’s line of sight; her body
language screaming stay away from me.
But Valm had been too distracted scrutinizing the false Bedohl
to comprehend her timid behavior. It stood as tall as her,
dressed in muddy-yellow cotton material, a shoddy jumpsuit that
provided a hood to obscure its face; a pair of goggles and a
hideous gas mask dissimulated its uncanny features. It
didn’t look very impressive at first glance, let alone
looked capable of slaying a sleeping dog.
“Is that…?”
“It is.” Alb emerged from below the stairs, climbing
up to stand beside his creation. “It’s not perfect,
yet, however…”
Contrary to the ambiguity of his words, the old man radiated
absolute pride.
Out of the corner of his eye, Valm spotted Ifarnal slipping away
with a smile that could rival a sly fox. He would have to corner
that man for a little discussion later. For now, he decided to
focus on the false Bedohl and its questionable state of
usefulness.
“It hardly seems robust. Can it fight?”
Valm brandished his sabre, and the Bedohl flinched, surprising
him with its reaction time.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
The machine nodded, hesitant.
“In accordance with its built-in specifications and speech
perimeters.” Alb elaborated with a swell of his chest,
confidant.
“In that case, unsheathe!”
It brought out a whip and twirled it around in a pathetic
attempt at intimidation, waving the end of its rope in a
confused line. Valm scowled, disappointed. ‘What is that?
This Bedohl cannot do battle.’ Why would the scientist
agree to unveil this… unfinished product so soon without
the proper field testing? Valm surmised that maybe their little
dispute this morning motivated him to show off his progress
sooner.
‘But he doesn’t understand. We do not want it to
obey us for the pleasure to watch it give in. We need an
effective weapon.’ Valm sighed, embittered by his
thoughts.
“All of this is absurd…”
With one clean blow of his sabre, he sliced off the arm which
held the whip like it were a practice dummy. Blood gushed out
from the amputated limb, and Valm cringed from disgust and
surprise.
“I’ll bring it back to the workshop,” Alb said
as his way of apology, grasping the malfunctioning Bedohl by the
elbow to pull it back. “The final model will make use of a
firearm. Chains and whips are problematic; one would need to
consider the space around them in order to use such weapons
properly.”
“It will never reach the required level of precision to
aim correctly.” Valm shot down the idea, sheathing his
weapon into its decorated scabbard. “I’d prefer that
it use throwing weapons. As for the blood… Is it
compulsory? I thought they weren’t alive.”
A scarlet puddle had formed on the ground, painting an
insidious, dark pool in the compact soil.
“A ruse, to deceive the enemy. You yourself wondered if it
was real just now, right?”
“How many units can you produce?”
“Fifty units in the next three days. Maybe more.”
The answer pleasantly surprised him, in which Alb pursed his
lips in malcontent. “You wouldn’t know. After all,
you haven’t hung around the workshop in quite
awhile.”
Apparently, he took offense to the fact Valm didn’t
appreciate his hard work and ingenuity enough to visit or
provide feedback. Valm ignored his lame attempt at provocation
and crossed his arms. “Call them ‘Bedohl
workers,’ then. And remove the blood aspect, or change the
color, at least. Our enemy won’t be the only ones
who’ll be deceived. I don’t want one of our own to
think that a comrade has been hurt and take unnecessary risks.
From far away, they must look human, but closer, the illusion
can be superficial.”
Valm realized that the ultimate soldier he hoped for amounted to
a pipe dream. For now, he would have to content himself with a
fake Bedohl with an annoying and inconvenient talent for spewing
realistic blood.
“Tell us what’s happening out there, Valm.”
Kush spoke, reminding him of her presence. “Is the enemy
here?”
“I think that’s the case. But Sloan and his men wish
to seek and destroy them. To do justice unto his brother, he
will do his name honor.”
After all, the name Sloan belonged to the God of vengeance.
“Are we safe?”
“For the time being, yes.” Valm turned to face her,
softening his eyes in tender regard. “I would prefer that
you hide yourself in a small refuge. Send word to Ifarnal…
no, never mind. I’m going to tell him myself. You
don’t need to concern yourself with that.”
Without bidding farewell to Alb who busied himself laying the
maimed Bedohl down on an operating table, Valm and Kush turned
to walk back in the direction of GATE 0, climbing the stairs in
awkward silence, exiting out into the communal area.
“Has something happened with Ifarnal?” Valm decided
to break the ice.
“Yes, but nothing important. Do not worry, my lord. I
shall settle the matter with him.” She smiled to appease
him, dismissing the subject altogether with a more somber note.
“I am more worried about how to proceed after losing so
many of our Summoners… I think the best course of action
would be to send us more people to replace them, but do you
think that will happen?”
A ship always came to resupply them weapons and provisions every
seven days. Even if they were to transport additional personnel
to bolster their dwindling defenses, Valm doubted they would
agree to stay long. After all, considering their management of
this part of the front lines, they still had not received news
of recent development. Were their efforts contributing to the
fight at all?
“Reinforcements? I don’t think so. According to the
rumors, more and more people have begun hiding their gift of the
Summoning Arts.”
“Then they will go to Hell.” She smiled again,
sweeping her long black hair over her shoulder.
At that blithe answer, Valm understood that she wanted to change
the subject.
“Say, Valm, what would happen if someone sent us another
Summoner? A woman who is delicate, yet sensual, with a beautiful
big bosom…”
He chuckled. “She wouldn’t have any trouble finding
volunteers for Aeon Cores.”
“Men are so simple!” Kush exclaimed with a dramatic
sigh, the young woman who adopted the Goddess of abundance in
name. With her slender figure and sharp, stunning beauty, just
like her fellow Summoner, Ifarnal, and his personal taste for
aesthetics, she often faced her peers as a victim of their
constant teasing.
“You’re right.” He regarded her with a sultry
smile. “I am a simple man of simple pleasures. As long as
you belong to me, I never find myself in want of more.”
#Post#: 1248--------------------------------------------------
Re: Rebirth ~ The Price of Eternity [A Fan-written Restoration]
By: Danko Kaji Date: January 11, 2017, 4:28 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Chapter 11
Tentative Title:
Of Attrition
---[/center]
(A/N): I had fun going through the struggles of Tidus and Yuna
cast out at sea; it's slow and grueling, if not a little boring
at certain parts, but quite realistic. There's still one more
chapter to cover before they reach that mysterious island
(Valm-centric chapters notwithstanding). Actually, the first arc
of the novel, "Boy's Side," ends after chapter 14, followed by
the "Girl's Side" which only covers three chapters. I suppose
the former is shared by Tidus and Valm's POV, and the latter is
exclusively Yuna. I can't wait to reach those parts and
embellish their structural importance. :3
[center]*[/center]
The Ace pitched so strongly during the night that Tidus and Yuna
strove to keep their balance. They had torn the bed linen to
fashion a makeshift rope out of it, tying it around each other’s
waist to stay connected. Standing close to the rudder, Tidus
attempted to look outside in vain, and dared to venture onto the
upper deck while being supported by Yuna. The rain lashed at his
face while he squinted into the darkness, and the rope coiled
around him tighter, indicating Yuna wanted him to come back.
“I couldn’t see anything!” He shouted once he came closer,
dripping with seawater.
“We’ll have to wait for the storm to subside. In a few hours,
the sun will rise, and then we’ll be able to regain our
bearings. And then…” Yuna trailed off, grimacing from the
thought: pinpointing the north posed as one problem, but
returning to Besaid posed as another. “And maybe we’ll see the
island. Don’t worry. Our friends will search for us. From the
sky, the Gullwings will find us in no time at all.”
“You seem pretty calm about everything,” Tidus said.
“I may not look like much, but I’ve grown up on an island! Plus,
I’ve experienced all kinds of scary adventures.”
“You’re already talking like an old woman,” he said, amused,
disparaging her confident boast with a retort of his own.
“Oh no, the horror!” She pouted, tempted to stick her tongue out
at him.
They caught each other’s eye and then they exchanged smiles,
stifling their giggles.
“I think everything will be okay.” Yuna repeated, if not to
reassure themselves, yet Tidus sounded doubtful.
“Despite all of our problems?”
Suddenly, the ship pitched in between two waves, cutting them
short, and Tidus felt his stomach lurch whereas Yuna closed her
eyes. He took a step towards her, only to stop short when the
hull of the Ace split open with an inhuman whine, losing his
balance. He banged his head against the rudder, picking up the
scent of gunpowder, before blacking out.
[center]*[/center]
Tidus opened his eyes, squinting against the sun that had
already risen high in the sky. No more breaths of wind, no more
clouds, not even a ship in sight. Only a plank survived from the
Ace’s remains, barely large to support the weight of one person,
of which Tidus found himself resting on.
“Stay where you are, don’t move.”
Yuna whispered behind him, and Tidus turned to find her floating
shoulder-deep in water, her back facing him. A fiend floated in
front of her, an adamantoise with a ravenous row of teeth fixed
upon its open mouth, its jagged, sharp shell protruding from the
surface. Glassy-eyed and hungry, it emanated the light stench of
rot. ‘Great. We’re screwed. What’s it doing all the way out
here? I thought these things only dwelled in the Calm Lands…’
“Yuna…”
At the call of her name, she turned around to give him a
sideways glance, and Tidus paled at the sight of her, tired and
distressed with sunken, dark bags for eyes and shallow, haggard
breathing signifying her war with attrition.
‘She had been protecting me this whole time? For how long…?’
The adamantoise still did not move, and Tidus wondered if Yuna
had managed to tame it. Then he saw a stick, no, a trident,
broken in half and driven into its robust neck, and he imagined
the battle Yuna must have waged against the beast, while Tidus
had been passed out, acting like baggage that floated in the sea
like trash.
“I’m sorry…”
She gave him a weak smile, reassuring him, and then she hunched
forward, her eyelids drifting shut.
“...Yuna?”
No response.
She started sinking into the water, and the monster plunged in
right after her.
Tidus straightened up on the fragile plank, careful to balance
himself on its precarious weight. Remembering the rope coiled
tight around his waist, he pulled on it hard, and thankfully
Yuna bobbed back into view a moment later, unconscious in the
current of the rolling waves. He moved fast to wrench her near
him despite the adamantoise looming over her, and he hauled her
in by the skin of his teeth, sheltering her in his arms. Their
refuge couldn’t keep them afloat forever, and the beast hovered
ever closer, sensing the poor state of their flimsy lifeline.
Tidus noted its vacant look, its glistening yellow fangs and its
putrid red tongue hanging behind them. And in his arms, he felt
Yuna’s body, so delicate that he thought he might break her.
This reminded him of another time, a happier moment, two years
ago, where he cradled her in his embrace, her body so light it
almost felt like they were floating in a sea of stars.
Their first kiss, at Lake Macalania.
This memory evoked a powerful emotion, a roar of strength he
never knew he possessed.
“I’ll never forgive you!” He shouted, only to stop and wonder--
‘Who am I yelling at? The fiend? Myself?’
He didn’t know, but he didn’t care. “I’ll protect her no matter
what!”
Careful to straighten up on the plank, Tidus tried to untie the
rope that connected them. While he struggled with the heavy,
soaked fabric, the adamantoise inched closer, close enough to
prop its flat chin on the plank supporting them; at this rate,
they were going to topple in the water.
Tidus scowled, scavenging the strength to leap onto the
adamantoise’s back, grasping its shell on all fours. Ignoring
the pain of its jagged spikes digging into his limbs, he forced
the nape of its neck to turn over, snatching the broken half of
the trident Yuna had used to subdue it. He sat up to raise it
high above his head with both hands, before piercing its head
straight through. Suddenly, it slid off the edge of the drooping
plank until its head disappeared within the water along with the
trident.
A foul smell rose from the wound, followed the spillage of
repugnant liquid.
‘Now’s the time to escape.’ No sooner did he think that, another
creature broke through the surface near them; a shark covered in
reptilian scales. The shark leapt over them to disappear at the
other side where the carcass floated, followed by a high-pitched
whistling like that of a whale.
‘It must be calling for others…’
Several creatures from the same species emerged soon enough,
confirming his suspicions, converging on the head of the dead
adamantoise where they began to devour it. Tidus watched them
from on top of their meal’s back, mesmerized by the morbid
scene.
‘I have to keep them away from Yuna, before they set their
sights on her, too!’
But where else could he move when the ocean surrounded him? Were
they trapped here, with nowhere to go?
‘It’s make it or break it…’
Bending over to recover the trident from the tortoise’s head,
Tidus slid down the carcass into the water so he could wade back
to the plank where he left Yuna still unconscious. He coiled the
rope tighter around her waist, the very same one he tried to get
rid of, grateful for the fact he couldn’t, and climbed onto the
plank, teetering from its swaying motions while he pulled Yuna
into his arms. He needed to carry Yuna back onto the fiend’s
shell, even though he couldn’t figure out how to move from their
makeshift raft.
Tidus wondered if he had been better off staying on the
half-devoured carcass. Where were they supposed to go from here?
Well, he couldn’t back down here. He had to keep plowing
forward.
Inching closer to the water’s edge, he crouched on his feet with
Yuna cradled in his arms and took a deep breath, concentrating
all of his energy into his legs. Tidus leapt only to misjudge
the distance, miscalculating the weight difference. Instead of
touching his feet onto the curved, jagged shell, he fell
straight into the water.
Something pulled him down, preventing him from floating to the
surface, and it took him a few seconds to comprehend what
happened. He remembered the rope, which still connected to Yuna,
and floated upright to discover that the rope had managed to
wrap around one of the sharks.
It struggled for a moment to swim against the weight of two
people, before finding the strength to return to its spot beside
the carcass of its meal.
Tidus took the chance to sink, hoping Yuna would float to the
surface. The shark resumed its lunch without paying attention to
its unwitting passengers. He skirted around its belly, praying
its fellow kind wouldn’t notice him, and pulled Yuna in,
dragging her up with him into open air. He gasped for air,
sucking in the sweet, sweet oxygen, and checked to see if Yuna’s
air passage still worked unimpeded, before wrapping the length
of the rope around the shark’s dorsal fin.
The first step proved to be a success, surprisingly enough. Now,
he had to climb onto its back without pissing it off. But how
will it react? Tidus didn’t know enough about this particular
species to predict its behavior, but he couldn’t let that stop
him. Struggling to mount the creature with Yuna in tow, he froze
for a long moment when he felt it thrash in place and sighed in
relief after it ceased its movements, too focused on devouring
its lunch to buck them off. He clung to the other fin, the one
which split the sea surface, to balance himself, and paused.
How to attach Yuna onto it, he wondered...
Pulling the rope in to bring her closer, he attempted to lift
her up and wedge her onto its back, but despite all his efforts
she kept slipping off. There’s no other way around it: she had
to hold onto the fiend herself.
“Yuna? Can you hear me? Yuna, I’ll get the upper hand on this,
don’t worry, but I need you to wake up.”
Another shark arose from the waves to scale the air above them
in a smooth arc, blowing a long, gleeful whistle. In a flash of
inspiration, Tidus beamed, lifting two fingers to his mouth to
whistle loud and clear, the sound so sharp Yuna awoke with a
start.
“Tidus?! Where are you?”
“I’m right here, next to you.”
She raised her head to blink at him, relief washing over her.
“What… happened?”
“Fiends are surrounding us, and I’m trying to control our mount.
But don’t worry, I got a good handle on this one. It’s just a
matter of time. There’s no way we’ll end up as shark snacks, not
while I’m alive!”
Despite obvious proof of the contrary, she acquiesced with a
tired sigh.
[center]*[/center]
Eventually the shark moved away from the carcass, now replete of
its meal after the rest of its kind had come and gone, and took
to swimming just beneath the water’s surface, drifting in
silence.
“I wonder where it’s taking us…”
“Wherever it is, I would like for it to go there,” Yuna said,
pointing at a dot in the horizon.
They had kept their voices low whenever they felt the need to
talk, not wanting to exacerbate the fiend and lose their only
sliver of security. Now Tidus squinted at the indecipherable
spot she indicated, barely able to make out its lush, verdant
surroundings. “Is that… Besaid?”
“I’m not sure. But any island will always be better than being
stranded on the back of a shark.”
“Wait, we’re drawing away from it.” His voice rose in panic, as
the shark started swimming in the opposite direction, picking up
speed. “And quickly.”
Even with the weight of two full-grown passengers clinging onto
its dorsal fin, the shark swam unimpeded due to its colossal
size; next to Tidus with his small, skinny stature, it appeared
three times bigger, and he tried not to let that intimidate him.
“Hey!”
Of course, it did not respond.
Tidus sighed. “Well, I don’t think I have a choice…”
Hefting the broken trident in one hand, he jabbed the shark on
the side of its head, straight in the cheek, hoping this would
cause it to avert its course. “And don’t you dare go under!”
If the shark sank too much under the water, Tidus would be
forced to start rearing it beneath its stomach. Besides, he
didn’t want to shed any more blood than he had to, because the
sight of it darkening the water in murky red... somehow didn’t
sit well with him. He hated it. And also, he might need to slide
down to swim by the fiend’s side in order to steer it, even
though he really didn’t want to, since it had already reached a
considerable speed too fast and tireless for him to keep up.
Before Tidus could even think about the problems of crossing
into deeper depths, and the dangers of delving into such
dangerous waters, a long, violent shiver of pain wracked the
shark’s body, before it veered to the right, in direction of the
faraway island.
“Forgive us…” Yuna called out to it, stroking its smooth, sleek,
rubber-like skin.
He glanced at her, surprised. Tidus didn’t feel guilty at all,
because sharks only knew one rule: to kill or be killed. Every
living being in Spira followed that rule without question, and
of course, Tidus adopted that same philosophy soon after being
marooned in this cold, merciless world. He had to act cruel
towards anything that posed a threat to his life. After all,
Spira’s inhabitants were subjected to harsher living conditions.
Who else would have asked for this fiend’s forgiveness? Only
Yuna, the one true treasure in this world, and so he reinforced
the vow he had already sworn a thousand times over: to cherish
her and protect her for as long as he lived.
He turned over to face her, seeing her lie flat on her stomach
while her arms and legs were wrapped around its back, and felt
the tickle of a smile pinch his cheeks. He remembered the day he
first met her, watched a young, beautiful, gentle woman summon a
ferocious, magical beast-- her first Aeon, Valefor.
At the time, Tidus had never dealt with a monster or wild beast
of that size and power, not that he could recall, at any rate,
but he understood then that if Yuna could control a being so
powerful, he could never hope to live a normal life beside her.
But then, a new thought crept into mind, which warmed his heart.
He knew of another side of her nobody else could possibly know,
the “normal” side of her people were unfamiliar with, because
they were too busy fawning over her public image as a Summoner
most serious and kind, but stubborn and inflexible, too.
‘But me, I understand her like nobody else.’
“...What are you think about?”
Yuna spoke up after a long silence, curious, and he blushed,
embarrassed that she caught him zoning out.
“Why do you ask?”
She smiled, amused. “You’re smiling.”
“Really? Nah. Must be the fatigue moving the muscles of my
face.”
Eager to dismiss her perceptive, flattered by her attention on
him, he turned towards their destination. The small island
appeared close enough for a hill to stand visible at the center,
along with the unmistakable stretch of greenery that pretty much
covered everything. Besaid or not, at least they would be able
to find food and water. Tidus let loose a little laugh, tickled
by a sense of deja vu.
“What?”
He grinned. “Nothing.”
“You--.” She pouted, unable to stifle her laughter. “You’re such
a secretive little thing!”
#Post#: 1254--------------------------------------------------
Re: Rebirth ~ The Price of Eternity [A Fan Restoration Project]
By: Danko Kaji Date: January 20, 2017, 1:28 am
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Chapter 12
Tentative Title: Of Sacrifice
part one of two
---[/center]
(A/N): Jesus, this might be the longest chapter, yet! It
basically covers the climax of Valm's story, before the final
epilogue-y Chapter 14. Two more chapters left to "The Boy's
Side!" It was quite a ride, I'm pretty excited to cover it in
its entirety. I suppose Valm and Tidus were supposed to parallel
each other, and that in itself is pretty foreboding.
Overall, I enjoy Valm's arc. It's very gritty, dark, and
enlightening.
[center]*[/center]
Sloan and his troops managed to flush four of the enemy out.
They slaughtered the first three, but caught the last one alive
for interrogation, in which they proceeded to drag him to the
east side of the island. On the beach, Sloan and about twenty of
his subordinates were surrounding their prisoner, whom they
buried in the sand from the neck down. He looked almost comical,
shouting up at them in youthful, trembling fury.
“Kill me! Just get this over with!”
All of the agents of Yevon reacted this way. Whenever a soldier
realized only death awaited them, they outright refused to
answer any further questions and persisted in demanding to be
killed. Sloan sighed, annoyed. He knew he would squeeze nothing
out of this one, but the Guard could not leave his post without
receiving new instructions. Thus, the long wait.
Ever since they moved into this Bevellian outpost, they had been
leading their battle in a passive way. For Sloan, who had
dedicated his sabre to the Goddess of War and had taken on the
name of the God of Vengeance, this situation frustrated him. He
had suffered in silence while waiting for his brother to bind
him as his first Aeon Core.
But Anli died, leaving Sloan behind to stew in his hate. He used
to hate his younger brother before, for small, inconsequential
things normal between siblings, at times a smooth talker, but
also prone to moments of indecisiveness, who bore a brotherly
love as great as Sloan harbored for him. When he learned that
Anli possessed the gift, he couldn’t have felt more proud…
‘Now that he’s not here anymore, whom should I protect?’
The Summoner who stood as the head of Bevelle had declared the
Mage of Zanarkand, his daughter, and their supporters heretics,
but for some reason did not make the official decision to
excommunicate them. Why? According to the rumors, Bevelle
intended to use them for their own gain by exploiting the two
summoners’ charisma to win over Zanarkand and lead the city into
abandoning their technological weapons to rely on their own
fledgling army of Summoners, which would pave the way for
Bevelle’s victory.
Sloan thought the reasoning sounded twisted. He could never
spare those who renounced the Gods. Anyone who rejected their
faith were to be eliminated as quickly as possible. That had
been their goal since the moment their elite unit were stationed
to fight on this island. But the father - daughter pair of mages
understood the true nature of their enemy’s plan, and sent out
their young, delusion hopefuls to carry out mass murder. And
then the thought occurred to him: ‘Is my government manipulating
me to do the same thing?’
Even children knew that Gods were simply imaginary, an artifice
of imagination. Yet, anyone could picture them in whatever image
they so wished. This common and widespread illusion tightened
the ranks of their army, to the extent that any man loyal enough
to the cause were ready to give their very lives for it.
‘Yes, this is brainwashing.’
“Do we begin the questioning?” Kat spoke up, interrupting his
musings.
“He won’t answer us.” Sloan scoffed, before reconsidering the
idea; perhaps the young man would be more receptive if he opened
the subject with his beloved Summoner princess. “Did you meet
the Sorceress? People say that she’s in peerless in beauty. Is
that right?”
The prisoner remained silent, his eyes lost in the distance
while he wore an eerie smile.
“You’re nothing to her, you know that? She’s just using you and
your comrades because you’re disposable. Once you’ve outlived
your usefulness, she will abandon you! Nobody will come to save
you!”
For an instant, the soldier raised his eyes to the Heavens.
‘...what’s this? Why is he doing that? Will reinforcements come
from the sky?’
Sloan couldn’t see anything, but he knew that flying apparatuses
had joined their ranks. This kind of weapon could turn the tide,
he knew this for certain.
“Kill me.” He repeated.
“I see.” Sloan paused for dramatic effect, looking out into the
turbulent ocean. “The tide is rising, you know. Soon enough,
your head will be submerged in the waves. You won’t be the first
one to try breathing underwater, but nobody has managed to do
it. Do you think you will succeed where the others have failed?”
“Y-You’re a monster…”
“One of your comrades killed my little brother. I know you
didn’t do it; you could have, but you know what, you might as
well have. The problem, you see, is that you came here to kill
him and the other Summoners. You won’t get off so lightly. You
will die… but slowly. You will leave this world while cursing
it, suffering from pain. After that, do me the pleasure of
turning into a fiend. Then, I want you to come find me. The next
time I see you, I promise I’ll tear you into pieces so I can
throw them into a fire.”
Sloan hadn’t even finished talking yet when the man burst out
into hysterics. A soldier stepped forward to silence him, but
then the captive fell silent again, directing his gaze to the
sky above, as if following a supersonic sound. Everyone did the
same, and then they heard it: an unfathomable, horrendous sound
that rumbled the sky. And then a stout, loud whistle rang from
the sand, courtesy of their motionless prisoner.
An airship appeared from the opposite coast of the island,
looming over the top of the mountain where the Luchera statue
resided.
This would be the first time Sloan had ever witnessed an
aircraft with his own eyes; a triangular object that soared in
the air, very noisy and slow. What it lacked in speed, it
definitely made up for in sheer size and the contents of its
cargo. Upon arriving at the beach, various bright lights lit up
and the machine started its gradual descent, kicking up a
whirlwind of sand sharp enough to blind those in proximity.
Sloan and his comrades acted in haste to find shelter behind the
cover of vegetation. When the commanding officer risked a look
over his shoulder, he saw that a rectangular shell hanging from
the underbelly of the craft ejected, and a battalion of soldiers
zipped down from the opening on a set of thick, secure ropes.
Gripping his weapon in hand, Sloan turned his back on them and
sprinted for the beach.
He noticed the enemy came equipped with bags on their backs,
made with a complex net of strings that contained a ball; a bomb
like the one Valm had described to him. Fifteen to twenty
infantrymen rappelled near their buried comrade; the first one
to land on the beach wasted no time to throttle him where he
stood, and Sloan watched his head tip over, soaked in blood.
In the face of such brutal interrogation, the prisoner had
resisted bravely, like a great warrior. If they had fought in
the same camp, they would have gotten along well.
“And yet…”
Sloan murmured, trailing off under the watchful eyes of his men.
They were awaiting an order. He must look strong, for them. “The
last time I checked, any life worth living could never be as
terrible as that.” He laughed in bitter humor, and then he
immediately become serious. “Return to base and report to Valm,
then place yourself under his orders. Kat will assume command of
the group until then.”
Then, Sloan brandished his sabre in direction of the enemy,
releasing a wild howl. “After my death, let Valm take over the
Sloan name!”
‘After all, he has always been worthier of this name than me.’
[center]*[/center]
They were intercepted before they could even reach base. The
aircraft had deposited enemies throughout every mile and yard of
the island. Exhausted, Kat knew that she would meet her death
very soon, but she felt no fear. She had been waiting for this
moment ever since her beloved Summoner’s death.
“Kanaela…”
Despite her gift in the Summoning Arts, Kanaela had been killed
six months prior, soon after Mikka, before she had the chance to
fulfill her objective. And now that she no longer lived, what
were the chances for Kat to become an Aeon Core?
Kushu would choose Valm, and the Guard would produce an
impressive creature. That left Ifarnal, but who did he have his
heart set on? Everyone knew he harbored romantic feelings for
his fellow Summoner, Kush, but the young woman always rejected
his advances. Besides, Kat doubted a Summoner could produce an
adequate Aeon Core. It would be such a huge waste.
She only had one option, then, and yet, even if Ifarnal were to
choose Kat, she doubted they would be able to form a genuine
soul bond. She had heard the others say that a Summoner and
their chosen Aeon Core must share powerful mutual feelings for
each other in order for the ceremony to bear fruit.
With Kanaela, everything would have been easy. But with Ifarnal…
Offering his life to the promised one, that’s one thing, but to
sacrifice himself for a complete stranger whose only desire to
bond originated from her thirst for vengeance, that’s another
issue entirely. How she regretted Kanaela’s death! If only she
had been strong enough to protect her, quick-witted enough to
anticipate the attack…
A set of explosions ripped her away from her thoughts.
‘They’re launching an attack!’
If that massive aircraft still harbored more soldiers to
overwhelm them, the Guards had zero chance of survival. Kat
stood straight, undaunted; she lost her chance to become an Aeon
Core, but at least she could still be the arm of vengeance.
‘O Sloan, give me the strength to lay our enemies into the
dirt!’
She found courage in the happy memories she shared with Kanaela,
the days they spent side by side, soaking up the sunlight when
they bathed in the swimming hole, building lop-sided sand
castles at the beach until the sun set, passing the time shut
inside the shelter in boredom with random games. Kat snaked in
and out of the trees, sticking close to the foliage until she
reached a hilltop. From here, she could see the entrance to
base.
Beside the dented, battered GATE 3, Kat recognized the cadavers
of her comrades Gekkoh and Romand. They didn’t die in vain,
succeeding to drag several more of their enemies to the Farplane
with them. A familiar sword jutted out from the body of one of
them, a beautiful young woman.
Kat bit back her anguished cry and hurried to GATE 0.
A gaping breach awaited her, as well as the stench of blood, and
she cringed, startled by the object that struck her back. She
jerked around to search for the perpetrator, and found nothing
but forest and wilderness. A ball rolled by her foot, and then
she heard a pronounced click, followed by a dilation of fiery
white light.
Her last thought before the scorching blast of air consumed her:
‘Will I flower in the world beyond?’
#Post#: 1255--------------------------------------------------
Re: Rebirth ~ The Price of Eternity [A Fan Restoration Project]
By: Danko Kaji Date: January 20, 2017, 1:29 am
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Chapter 12
Tentative Title: Of Sacrifice
part two of two
---[/center]
(A/N): Had to split this into two parts, because I breached the
maximum word count.
[center]*[/center]
Valm had been searching for Kush, but he couldn’t find her.
In a span of the last few hours, the stateroom transformed into
a countryside hospital, but ever since the enemy broke through
their defenses, it felt more like a battlefield, with the
lingering, pungent stench of waste, death, blood, and rotten
corpses absolutely unbearable. The souls were fluttering in
iridescent fragments above the crude gravesite that housed his
fallen allies, spreading a pasty, haunting glow.
An explosion resounded outside, tearing his eyes away from the
gross scene, and he heard a voice shout Kat’s name. Not long
afterwards, another voice confirmed her death. Nobody could
spare the time to take care of their wounded. Although the
Guards were an elite unit, their weapons were outdated; they
couldn’t even hope to match Zanarkand’s troops in artillery, let
alone their technological progression.
“Despite everything…”
‘The time has come. You and I couldn't be any more united.’
Valm would become an Aeon Core, as he saw no other way to turn
the situation around.
The stairs, which normally led to the living quarters, had been
scorched through, the walls almost collapsed to the point of no
passage. A bomb must have been responsible for this damage. He
stepped over the corpses of the men under his charge, and sent a
prayer to Guard, the God of the Farplane, to take care of their
spirits. When he walked to the stairs, he turned around to look
behind him, feeling ashamed for the relief he felt that he
couldn’t find Kush’s body among them, and proceeded upstairs.
Behind him, a trio of Zanarkand soldiers burst into the room,
just as the door to GATE 1 opened passage for an awkward,
bumbling, almost comical procession of mechanical Bedohls in
their baggy suits and gas masks to proceed through. They spilled
into the room at a snail’s pace, brandishing their chain whips,
and the enemy opened fire.
Valm couldn’t understand it. Alb had demanded three more days to
complete his project. After three years of research, what would
three more days accomplish? Think of the devil, and he shall
come; Alb staggered behind his creations, appearing to be on his
last legs.
“Valm! I’m leaving the workshop. Sorry…”
He had no choice but to acquiesce, although grudgingly.
“Come back here!” Alb ordered the Bedohls with a hand signal.
“No. What are you doing? They must fight.” Valm exclaimed at
once, vexed.
“The way they are, they would only get in your way…”
Another explosion resounded in the stateroom, announcing the
arrival of more enemies. Alb and his Bedohls headed for the
emergency exit, and Valm started to ascend the stairs again.
Just before he could cross the inner gate, he turned around to
look one last time despite the fact he knew lingering would only
waste time. He didn’t think he could outrun them, nor did he
want them nipping at his heels. He couldn’t tear his eyes away
from the macabre sight where the enemy trampled over spilled
blood and scattered corpses, and the wilting flowers of the
altar, desecrating the funeral light of the departed souls.
One of them managed to spot him. “You’re running away! Coward!”
A young man charged at Valm with sabre in hand, and Valm
deliberated for a split second. He wanted to conserve
ammunition, and he felt confident he could outmatch him in a
contest of swords, so he unsheathed his sabre.
“Bring it on, you son of a heretic!”
They clashed blade for blade, and Valm shoved him back with a
large arc of his sword, striking his wrist to disarm him, before
slashing him straight across. He sensed the edge of his sword
slice deep into his enemy’s side, reaching as far down as his
navel, until he pulled it back with a vicious flick. This poor
fool leapt at him with too many openings, and Valm had the
advantage of high ground; it took very little effort to strike
him down. He managed to steal a glimpse of the injury he
inflicted before the man toppled backwards into the void.
Satisfied, Valm turned around to continue onwards to his
original destination, GATE 0, before the soul of his latest
victim returned as a fiend to haunt him. And then he faltered at
the chorus of cries and bloody murder resonating down below. He
whipped around, startled, snatching glimpses of mechanical
Bedohls lying motionless on the ground, eking out dark red fluid
that looked suspiciously like blood. He had never stopped to
think of those machines as humans, but if they had souls... He
took pity upon them.
What happened next shocked him into clarity: the mechanical
Bedohls gathered around their injured comrades, helping them to
stand. Valm thought of the workers who were forced to remain in
the workshop for days on end, working overnight, sometimes
cutting through breaks and mealtimes until he scarcely saw them
socialize with the others.
They eventually slipped from his mind, the engineers who always
wore their hideous, strange jumpsuits and thick goggles. How did
he not realize this before?
‘They’re human…’
Alb never succeeded to create artificial intelligence, let alone
cybernetic soldiers. He constructed mechanical Bedohls out of
the very men who worked under him, and in the end used them as
expendable tools to ensure his own escape.
Valm clenched his jaw, descending the stairs with a slow step to
his walk.
“Alb!”
The elder man had already disappeared, but several of his fake
mechanical Bedohls -- human beings disguised as machines, not to
lure the enemy, but to fool their very own allies -- raised
their eyes in direction of the Guard.
“Tell this to your cowardly master: Alb can run wherever he
wants, but I will find him and I will make him pay for his
treason!”
To throw out mechanical soldiers in front of the enemy instead
of sacrificing human lives, a utopia that fueled his drive to
fight, herein lies the reality of that dream… Despite the fact
Valm enlisted as a soldier in the war for Bevelle’s cause, he
had dreamt of a world where he would never need to fight. None
should ever learn of this innermost, secret wish.
The mechanical Bedohls broke their formation as a gesture of
awkward apology, and answered him in their own strange language.
“Be quiet!” Valm lashed out, disturbed by the fact they chose to
communicate with him in that… alien way. And then the memory of
Kush returning to the workshop through GATE 1 pushed into his
mind, reminding him of his goal.
What could she be doing over there?
“Valm! They’re in the living quarters!”
A familiar voice brought him back to the present and the dire
state of things, and he raised his eyes to see one of his men
emerge from GATE 0, covered in blood. “The Summoners, hurry…” He
managed to rasp out, before collapsing to the ground.
‘Kush!’
The living quarters were similar to a labyrinth of corridors,
which led to bedrooms, the most fortified area within the base.
How could the enemy have accessed it?
‘Alb…’
Only Alb could have led them there, as another insurance of
escape.
Blinded by rage, Valm rushed for Kush’s room.
In the long, narrow corridor, he spotted an enemy who sported
long hair, probably a woman, who progressed towards the quarters
while scraping her shoulder along the wall. She appeared to be
injured, and Valm stole the opportunity to slip behind her,
sliding the edge of his sabre over the front of her neck to
slash it open, before trampling over her cadaver without a
second thought, kicking her in the ribs for good measure.
An unnecessary, cruel act, he knew, but he didn’t care. The war
and its endless wave of battles were affecting him for the
worse, and the wrath and lingering resentment of the slain were
already spreading their toxic influence in his soul, as well as
their own. He might as well be possessed by a fiend.
“Protect me, Luchera!” Valm exclaimed, setting forth for the
next corridor.
In the heat of battle, only one who maintained their composure
could hope to survive, and he would have to remember that the
moment he met up with Kush again. He had to be Valm, the Guard
she admired and loved.
The living quarters for the Summoners were located deeper within
the labyrinth, where ten doors led into their section. Kush’s
bedroom had been labeled number three, and once he arrived in
front of the door, he hesitated. Would she even want to talk to
him? Ever since he had walked in on that possible altercation
between Kush and Ifarnal, the air had deteriorated between them.
He recalled how his lover tried to reach out to him, and he had
pushed her away.
“May I talk to you?”
“Later. My men are fighting.”
She gave him a thin smile. “Really…?”
“Stop! Right now is not the time!”
Valm gritted his teeth in regret, dropping his forehead against
the door. Any fortress would fall under the command of a
distracted commander. No need to go through the trouble of
planting a traitor for that.
“Give me a chance to redeem myself…”
Lifting his head from the door now, he hit the panel board three
times, according to the signal. The dial lighted up, and on the
other side of the partition, he could hear a bell ring out, but
no one inside reacted to it. The enemy must not have reached
this area, yet, much to his faint relief… However, this place
still reeked of blood and death like the stateroom.
An unpleasant combination of gunpowder and blood, mixed with the
cloy scent of souls…
‘Kush…’
Valm slammed his fist into the board again, except only one
time. The door did not move. Nobody replied.
Treading past doors four and five, he stopped before number six.
Ifarnal’s bedroom. He knocked on the door and waited, and then a
ball rolled to his feet from the shadows of the cramped walls.
‘A bomb…!’
His first reflex demanded that he send the ball back with a
kick, but he feared the impact would activate it. And so Valm
jumped back to sprint in the opposite direction, desperate to
reach door number ten and cut into the right, where the hallway
merged into a bend. Valm barely had the time to react before the
radius of the explosion flooded the chamber, and he threw
himself against the wall, avoiding the stream of combustion.
The resulting noise did not drown out the sound of Ifarnal’s
scream. He had opened the door to his room one second before the
detonation, and Valm swore, leaving behind his hideout. He found
the enemy standing at the other end of the hallway opposite of
him, close to door six and steadily closing in on it.
Brandishing his sabre, Valm met the enemy headlong, shouting to
Ifarnal as he passed the room.
“Close it!”
Now Valm faced three of the enemy, whom were moving in a single
file line. The narrow corridor impeded on their progress, and so
the man in the lead, a dark-haired teenager, raised his firearm
for a shot. Valm dove to avoid its trajectory, rolling to stand
upright again, running under the force of momentum to point the
tip of his sabre at his opponent’s throat.
He slashed it without missing a beat. His two comrades appeared
younger, and much less determined to forge ahead. Covered in
blood and sweat, Valm read fear in their eyes, and his
bloodthirsty glare cut quite an intimidating air, causing them
to bump into each other and lose balance. He stooped to pick his
fallen enemy’s gun and fired, watching as the bullet pierced
through them both and they collapse in a dead heap.
“I can’t manage to close the door-- It’s broken!”
Ifarnal dashed out into the corridor, in a state of panic until
the scene he walked into made him grimace.
“Evacuate!”
But the Summoner did not move.
“Where is Kush? She doesn’t respond when I knock on her door.”
Ifarnal stole a nervous glance at his room. Stroking his chin in
thought, he eventually motioned for the man to follow him. He
had little personal effects to his room, with the walls laid
bare except for a mattress half-concealed behind a wooden
partition. Ifarnal seemed less concerned by the state of his
room than the look on Valm’s face.
“She’s in the back, but be careful… To be honest, I need to talk
to you, before you…”
But Valm wouldn’t listen to him. “Kush!”
He rushed to the four poster bed, and kicked aside the folding
screen. She lied there half naked and asleep, and Valm loathed
to piece the puzzle together.
“Valm, wait…” Ifarnal stepped forward to reel him back to the
present. “This is the only method I know. There exist other
ones, but I haven’t been taught to use them.”
Shutting his mind from reason, Valm jerked around to punch him
in the face, his rage quenched for a fleeting moment when he
watched him fall to the ground, and then he turned back around
to grab Kush by her shoulders, shaking her awake. She peeled her
eyes open a fraction and smiled up at him, lost in a daze.
“What happened to you?”
She did not answer. He tried to have her sit up, but faltered at
the sight of her glassy look.
“What the… Kush?”
“Valm!”
He whipped around just in time to discover the enemy had
ventured into the bedroom, a man he thought to have eliminated.
The Zanarkand soldier brandished his sabre, raising it high
above his head for a vicious blow. Valm faced him unarmed; if he
chose to parry, the sword might redirect and hit Kush. He had no
time to think. He bent his knees in preparation for a lunge,
intending to tackle him down, but someone else beat him to the
punch. The man’s head toppled from his shoulders, rolling on the
ground in a bloody geyser and leaving the decapitated body to
fall into Valm’s arms.
A mechanical Bedohl emerged from the doorframe, rewinding the
whip he just used.
Ifarnal stood upright and spoke to the Bedohl, communicating in
its disgusting language, and then they skirted Valm who knelt
there in shock, surrounding Kush in concern. They situated her
on the edge of the mattress, positioning her upright while she
still appeared dazed. When the Bedohl slapped her, Valm wanted
to spring for its throat, but Ifarnal snatched him by the waist
before he could wrap his hands around his jugular, holding him
back with all of his strength. And Kush finally awoke after the
second slap.
The Bedohl removed its goggles and mask, revealing a head full
of hair. Valm recognized him from somewhere…
Oh, he remembered him now: one of the Bedohls who always carried
Kush’s palanquin. He said something, and, to Valm’s utter
astonishment, Kush answered him with startling fluency. But she
did nothing to cover her naked body, nor acknowledge her lover
and Guard with a single glance.
‘O Sloan, who should I kill first?’
This had to be a conspiracy against him, a trick of the mind.
The battle must have deteriorated his senses, ruining his
ability to comprehend even the simplest of things. There had to
be a reason for all this betrayal. Finally, Kush turned towards
him, as if she just noticed his presence. He read astonishment,
then confusion, and she hastily wrapped her chest behind the
sheet with a meek smile.
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