The young Crystal Master released the final stone, watching as it hovered next to its brothers and sisters.

“I don’t know if I can do this Father,” the young Crystal Master’s hands were shaking as they hovered over the soft, pulsing light. It reflected along the shimmering sides of the dim stone cave. -You can, Klu. We have to… we’ve talked about all this before,- came the gentle reply within his mind. “But talking isn’t doing,” KluYa grit his teeth. His green eyes were focused on the flow of energy as the Crystal drew in the Blue Planet elements. -This is true. Now is a time of doing.- It was hard to believe that his father was so stoic. Afterall, Father’s essence would be broken, sealed within the Crystal stones and scattered throughout the nations of the human world. Perhaps he was trying to set an example through the lack of his own hesitation.

But it was still hard to go through with it. Despite never being able to see or touch the soft presence that lingered beside him, the kindly mind-voice was the closest thing to a father that KluYa ever had. And now he was going to seal him away. He would be divided from the guiding hand and loving encouragement… and lost without another known soul upon the Blue Planet.

“If I do this… then you’ll be gone.” As KluYa voiced his feelings, they sounded childish and conceited to his ears. Afterall, was it more important that he was comforted… or that the Blue Planet was protected from the dark powers that hung threatening, just out of sight?

He waited in the moment of silence, wondering if his feelings would be chastised. Wondering if Father would be disappointed in him for coming so far only to let emotion wedge into the cracks of their plan.

Instead, there was a soft curling light that rose about him. The closest that Father could get to offering a sympathetic hug.

-Klu… I will never be gone. I will always be here with you. Within you. And when the danger has passed, there will be a day when I will be released again. Perhaps, in that time, I will once more be what I was before.-

KluYa’s eyes shifted down in attempt to hide the sorrow. Father was trying so hard to encourage him. To convince him that what they were going to do was right. But he knew. He had seen the visions… there would be a day when the Dreigiau returned to the Blue Planet. But by that time, KluYa would not be there to greet his father’s return.

-You know what will happen if we do not do this.-

KluYa nodded grimly, “The Crystals on the Red Moon will only hold Zeromus and Luccious for a short time. We worked hard to place those seals but…”

-They need reinforcement. Yes. And the best way we can do that is to reinforce those Crystals with a second set on the Blue Planet. Just like the Red Moon is in orbit within the power of this world, connecting the flow between the two will make the seal nearly unbreakable.-

“I just don’t understand why you have to be a part of this. Why can’t we just make a second set, redirect the Blue Planet’s energy to amplify the seal and be done with it?” the young Lunar gave a frustrated huff. But his gaze never left the glow of the forming Crystal between his hands.

-The Blue Planet is strong… and the Crystals have a certain amount of awareness. But it has never held back the wrath of a Dark Sygnus or Chaotic Arweinydd before. I’m fairly sure of that. It’s going to take more than just Crystals to see this through.-

KluYa knew that his father spoke the truth. How could he argue against the vastness of it all? Against what history had played out. Against what had led to the destruction of Runne… and of the Nefolian lands, now lost to time.

He knew the danger first hand. And he knew that he had to do everything in his power to protect the Blue Planet from feeling the same darkness and despair.

He just wished that the price wasn’t this high.

As if in reaction to his sorrow, Father’s light shifted and circled around his shoulders, capering through the young Lunar’s long white hair.

-This is not the end, Klu. It is not goodbye. It feels a lot like it, I know. But there are some things that transcend beyond all the rules of life and death that we think we know.-

KluYa looked up slowly, back to the Crystal between his palms.

-We have to grab a hold of the hope of the unknown. Have faith in what is beyond us. In what we cannot see. And go forward with what we know to be right… even if it is the most difficult thing we have ever been asked to do.-

As the words fell upon his mind, the young Lunar couldn’t stop the tears that brimmed over. Though his face was hot and wet, he forced his hands to stay sure and steady ahead of him. He drove his focus upon the gentle, warming light. The final Crystal was now complete.

“Father…” his voice cracked.

-You’ve done well, Klu… It’s my turn now.-

The young Crystal Master released the final stone, watching as it hovered next to its brothers and sisters. There were eight in total – four of the Light and four of the Dark. One for each element of the Blue Planet.

He could feel each one. A living and breathing stone, awaiting the final modification.

As the Crystals began to line up in hovering formation, Father’s light whisper away from the safety of KluYa’s shoulders. It took every ounce of resolve he had to stop himself from reaching out. From pulling the light back, keeping it from vanishing forever.

As he watched, it divided. Then divided again. Until the light took on four forms smaller forms instead of the one large. Very faintly, the smaller lights gave the appearance of tiny translucent Dragons. But that was only when KluYa squinted hard enough to make it out.

Then, ever so painfully, the little Dragons glided forward, rising above each pair of Crystals, both dark and light. As they came closer, they began to change, taking on a different color. The tiny cave was suddenly lit with great fountains of multicolored lights – reds and blues and golds and silvers and everything in between.

KluYa threw his hand up before his eyes as the Dragons and Crystals began to fuse, the stones welcoming Father’s light. Drinking in his spirit. His being.

“FATHER!!” the cry ripped from his mouth. KluYa couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop the emotion welling through him. The grief and the loss, knowing that he was wrong to feel that way. Yet unable to release the rending within his heart.

-I will always be with you, Klu…-the soft, coaxing voice responded. But it was growing fainter. More distant.

The light of the Crystals had swelled to envelope the entire cave. Like fingertips of gentle energy, the Lunar could feel tingles trace down his cheeks where the tears ran. Somewhere within his heart, he wanted to believe it was the gentle touch of Father.

-We must move forward. Do not let our work go unfulfilled. Promise me.-

KluYa’s voice was hoarse as he forced the words between his lips, “I promise…”

-There are others that need your strength and protection,- Father’s voice was hardly a whisper now above the rushing of power. –Be their guardian as my Dragons will guard these Crystals. And know that I will always love you.-

The light of the Crystals began to fade, leaving the cave somehow darker and colder than before. The young Lunar had fallen to his knees, palms flat against the cool stone floor. For a long time, he wept. Images shifted through his mind – of the living world of Runne and his mother… of how both were violently ripped from him. Of his brother that he had abandoned, leaving him to stand watch alone on the Red Moon. How he had left under such bad terms.

How he felt so very alone on the strange alien world. The world that had once called to him in promise and hope. A place that had seemed so much better than the lifeless moon years ago, before he came. Before the Whale had been put to slumber at the ocean floor. Before he had spent years wandering alone, dodging dangers and finding what he needed to construct the Crystals.

Which all led up to this very moment. And though he knew it would happen — he had known from the time he began to create his first living stone that his Father would gift the Crystals of the Earth with his very soul. Knowing had not made the pain any easier to endure.

A soft keening sound rose in the air, echoing from the dark cave wall. It was soft and harmonious. And as KluYa knelt, weeping bitterly at his loss, the sound grew louder. The cave began to illuminate from the inside.

The Crystals had begun to sing.

The sound was unlike any music he had heard before. Not the soft voice of his mother’s lullaby or the bawdy baying of humans in their tavern revelries. It was a song that swelled around him, touching the depths of his soul, leaving his breath caught up in his throat. Gentle. Hopeful. Comforting. The eight drew their light and love over their maker.

For a moment, KluYa felt as if Father was still there with him. And though all of the pain could not be washed away, it somehow became more bearable.

He sat, bathed in the light of the Blue Planet Crystals. Their shimmers reflected from the depth of his eyes. Their song resounded through his core, rousing something that tickled the back of his mind.

Maybe Lunar. Maybe Dragon. Maybe Sygnus.

“Father…”

KluYa realized in that moment that he was Ap’Dreigiau – the Son of the Dragon. And it was time that he started acting like it.

“I will protect them.”

His hands shook as he pulled the creased and faded parchment maps across the floor. He scrubbed at his misty eyes as he squinted to make out the Common Language writing in scrawled dark ink. The places that they had marked. The Nations of the Earth.

The places he would deliver the Crystals.

The next step in their plan to secure the Blue Planet people from the threat of the darkness that lay in slumber in the core of the Red Moon.

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.”

Joran’s mind reeled in desperation at all the terrible things that would happen to her if she were to stop running.

I don’t know if this is really such a good idea… Doubts had started to set in, washing away Joran’s previous sense of bravado. It didn’t help that she found herself jumping at every wayward shadow that drew across the floor of the dusty old library. No matter how many times she visited Golbez’s small living quarters nestled in the secret depths of the Lunarian Stronghold, it always felt like a new adventure. Of course this time, it’s completely different.

It had taken a lot of planning and correlating for the girl to be here at this exact place and time. It wasn’t often that Golbez left his chambers. It was even more difficult to draw him away from his studies on the spur of the moment with the hopes that he had forgotten to draw up the defenses of within the room. There was a good chance that Joran could have slipped through the defenses anyways… for his magic had become more and more accustomed to her presence the past years.

But that’s not something that I could risk. Not considering what I’m about to do…

How Joran had gotten caught up in all of this, she couldn’t remember. She had long-since known about the Crystal. Almost feverishly, Golbez had been constantly busy at work in his chambers, crafting what he referred to as his greatest project. He had even given it a name: Incrytan. Translated, it meant something along the terms of “Key”. And though Joran didn’t know a whole lot about things of this nature, Golbez had once explained to her that Incrytan’s function was exactly that.

The Key Crystal. The thing that she was there to retrieve.

Retrieve… a delicate word…

Joran didn’t want to think about it as stealing. Just the concept of the word put a falter to her step as she crept around the final corner, the dull stone surface of the illusionary wall coming into view. The girl drew in a ragged breath, balling her fist. As if the motion would allow her to grasp the courage she needed to move forward.

This is for his own good! I don’t have a choice… if I don’t take it then, there’s no knowing what is going to happen to Golbez!

-That’s right. You must do this for him.-

A soft voice touched her mind. A voice that Joran knew, even without seeing. It was the Sparrow… the messenger of the Trine.

Not much was known about the Trine anymore… besides the fact that it was a group once made up of three powerful creatures known as Arweinydd. And somehow, this group was involved in affairs of the Lunarian people in a time long before their people’s history could remember.

But now, only two of the three still remained. Despite the fragmenting of the group, when a messenger of the Trine came with instructions, one did not hesitate to respond.

I don’t know why I was the one chosen for this task… or why Golbez’s Crystal is so important. I don’t even know what the Trine wants to do with it… or why they are here, of all places.

So many questions filled Joran’s mind. So many were left unanswered. And the Sparrow never offered more than the smallest hints to keep her going.

-Do not forget, should he complete a Crystal of that power, the danger will be to himself. The song of the Crystals are temptations to the soul. And to one of half-heritage most of all…-

Joran nodded to the shadows, pressing her back to the wall. She had heard the Sparrow’s talk of the Crystals’ temptations. It was hard not to see that as the truth… for Joran herself had felt the pull of the Crystal’s energy whenever she came too near to it.

-You know. You have seen it. The more that he works on it, the more that he obsesses over it. He says that he’s creating a Crystal that will give him the power to unlock the curse placed on his father. But even if he can do that… then what will he do with such a thing of power afterwards?-

The girl had no answer. Joran never did… it was so hard for her to understand the motivations that drove Golbez to do what he did. She knew that there had been a lot of pain in his life. That he had very few memories of the past and felt the intense need to rectify things that he had lost.

But is this the right way of doing it..?

She reached out with one hand, pushing her fingers through the false wall and stepping into the hidden hallway on the other side. No sounds of alarm rang. No sense that she had been spotted and reported.

Just a cold, dusty silence and the pressure of the fortress that stretched far above her head.

Just around the crook in the hallway, Joran could make out the pale glittering light of what could only be Incrytan. To her surprise, the glow pulsed in a regular rhythm, imitating the flow of breath and life. Last time she had seen the Crystal, the light had been far more dim… there was no doubt that Golbez was getting closer to finishing it.

-That’s it… that’s the item that Lady Zazo requires.-

Joran swallowed at the reference to the name. A reminder of who had sent her here. Though she still did not know why.

I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do with Incrytan if I DO manage to take it!

With doubts racing rampant through her mind, the girl crept closer towards the silent, hovering stone. Not that she really needed to creep, she discovered. Incrytan either seemed to recognize her or just didn’t care. Either way, it remained quiet even as she drew up close to it.

Nice… and easy… come on now.

Joran watched her reflection extend towards her in the bright surface of the stone as she reached her hand towards the Crystal.

You can do this, Joran SuKi!

Slender fingers trembled, hesitating just inches away from the glow. She had no idea if touching Incrytan would hurt her. For all she knew, it would blast her into a pile of Lunar dust and no one would even know the difference.

Remember why you’re here… Do it for him…

Joran gave a choked gasp. Her hand shot forward, breaking the boundaries of the soft glow. She felt the smoothness of the stone in her palm. The strange, pulsing essence of something that was both inanimate and living simultaneously.

It’s… it’s…

There was a soft tickle in the back of her mind. A welcoming feeling. As if Incrytan was greeting her with a sense of familiarity.

It was so strange… yet the energy felt so good. The girl found herself smiling.

-Joran!- Sparrow’s voice sliced through the Crystal haze sharply. –There is no time to waste! We must bring the Crystal quickly!-

“Right,” Joran breathed to herself.

Then she placed a second hand on the Crystal. One little tug told her that the stone was locked securely in place by a very strong Holding spell. From the feeling of the energy signature, it could have only been cast by Golbez.

This could be a problem…

Focusing her strength, she pulled back. But the Crystal would not so budge. Instead it made gentle flickers, outlining the shape of her hands. Almost as if it was laughing.

-Is there a holdup?-

“Yes…” Joran continued to pull backwards, in vain. “I can’t move it! It’s bound to this spot, I think?”

The Sparrow-voice gave a soft sigh.

-I see. I didn’t want to have to do this.. but if there is no other choice…-

“Do…wha…” Joran asked, her voice trailing off as her eyes caught motion reflected in the Crystal’s surface.

Something hovered behind her, growing and expanding. Dark wings stretching wide, wings that were not her own… and certainly could not the little black Sparrow that she had seen before.

What… is…

Joran felt her breath rush from her lungs in a soft whimpering sound as shifting wavers of shadow flowed around her. Feather-like tendrils traced up her arms, wrapping around her wrists and streamed down her fingers into the glow of Incrytan.

At once, the warm, welcoming feeling that the Crystal had greeted her with vanished. It was replaced with a frightened keening of dismay.

What are you doing to it!?

She didn’t know the dark energies that rose around her. She didn’t know exactly what it was doing to Incrytan. But the desperation resounded through every inch of Joran’s being.

This is wrong! We shouldn’t be—

Before the girl could finish her thought, the Crystal gave way in her hands. Joran stumbled backwards with the sudden lack of resistance. And she found herself staring down at Incrytan, now cradled in her arms. She was breathing frantically, the pulse of the stone in time to the rapid beating of her heart. The light within it was somehow more dim.

What happened..?

With a jerk of her head, Joran surveyed the room. There was no sign of the strange darkness anywhere. Only the tiny beaded-eyed Sparrow that was perched on a stack of wayward books near the doorway.

-Quickly!- The flutter of wings left her no time to ponder further.

In the back of her mind, she could feel it. A vast, rageful rush of power. Coming straight for the little underground library. For her… the one who had taken the Crystal. Sudden fear bubbled up within Joran’s chest as she realized the source of the feeling.

Golbez…

The Sparrow fluttered again, this time launching from her perch and swooping straight above the girl’s head. –Follow me!-

For a moment, the Lunar could only stare at the bird’s retreating form. Shock rendered her body useless. Her mouth was dry with overwhelming trepidation.

Maybe it’s not too late to give it back… I could try to explain…?

But the Sparrow-voice would have nothing of it. –Come! Come! Do you think you can reason with anger like that!-

Joran shook her head, mutely. Somehow, she felt her body gather strength. It was a blind rush forward, dodging through the tall, musty shelves. Clutching Incrytan to her chest, breath whistling through her dry lips, she ran. Searching to find the darker form of the Sparrow amongst the now unfriendly rows of tomes.

Where are we going?

Shadows stretched and loomed across her path, no matter how many corners she turned. Dust-blurred eyes distorted vision. She felt a creeping weakness rush over her body wherever the shadows brushed over her.

Were they reaching for her? Were they the dark powers of the once Dark Lord of the Blue Planet?

How can we get away?

Joran’s mind reeled in desperation at all the terrible things that would happen to her if she were to stop running. Spurred on by shadows at her heels and darkness before her, only the dim light of Incrytan lit her way.

Finally, after running for what seemed a very long time, Joran found herself in a small, low-ceilinged chamber. It was a place she had never been to before there in the Library. But then again, she never did take liberty to explore the furthest reaches of the area. Something about it had always felt like walking through a crypt to her.

There was another source of light glimmering from the far side of the room. As she crept forward, Joran’s eyes widened, the glow reflecting off the Crystal in her arms. She had never seen one before, but she knew exactly what it was.

A Wayrift?

The Sparrow dove past her head and capered for a moment above the shimmering oval of light. –Indeed. Now follow.-

“Wait… where does it go?”

- If you want to escape, follow!- The bird said nothing more. Simply a spread of wings and a spiraling swoop. The Sparrow vanished into the churning light of the rift.

Joran paused for a moment, green eyes flicking back over her shoulder in apprehension. She didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t know if she was doing the right thing. But the shifting of shadows was growing closer. And facing Golbez would likely be far, far more difficult than taking a step into the mysterious flicker of the waiting rift.

Golbez… forgive me!

The girl drew in a last deep breath. With eyes closed, she plunged forward into the Wayrift.

The fire did little to ease the chill, though he sat as closely as he could to the flame.

The wind was bitter cold. Of course it was near midnight, it was a mountaintop, and the season wasn’t exactly mid-summer. But, still, the wind was bitter cold. Even that annoying fact had been pushed beyond Kain’s mind. Beyond all thoughts. One must clear the mind to let the Truth come in… The Truth… What was the Truth? There had been a time the dragoon had been sure he knew. Once, long ago when he could easily say he understood who he was and his dreams in life. But those days were so far behind him. He was no longer that young, self-assured warrior who had turned his back on Baron’s gates that day at his childhood friend’s side. He honestly could say he had no idea who he was. Not anymore…

Finally, the frigid winds broke through his concentration and Kain fell out of meditation.

Why can I never keep my mind clear of these thoughts? Why?

The wind ripped at his blond hair as he sat in lotus position, head bowed. The dragoon shivered.

The fire did little to ease the chill, though he sat as closely as he could to the flame. It was at the lee of the outcrop, sheltered from the full blast of the wind, yet it still danced erotically in the pitch dark. It was the only light Kain could see in the world. He gazed into the fire’s soul, drawing a cloak about his shoulders for extra warmth.

Am I ready for this? Is it too soon?

Kain didn’t know how long he had been atop Mt. Ordeals. He had left behind the world of order and time upon dismounting the chocobo at the base of the mountain. He had been there long enough to see the warm days turn cold. And, yet, he ever pondered… and worked at his battered spirit.

Why am I here?

He had often asked himself that while gazing over the stretch of flat lands that ever bowed low to the great peak. He had to be honest with himself. There were two reasons. First, it was, as he said, to train to be a true Dragoon… to vanquish the darkness held in his soul. But, he had a second motive that was harder to admit. He just didn’t want to be there for their wedding.

Kain had ever known of the growing love between his two dear friends, Cecil and Rosa. He knew that in this life, they were meant to be. But he never could accept that… ever harder did he fight to win the love of the one who would never love him. And in the end, it could only pull them further apart. Now, he felt as if he was upon a tiny deserted isle, and they were upon a beautiful tropical paradise, and hundreds of miles of ocean between them…. with Leviathan heading straight for him. Kain had never been so lonely in his life.

Only… the quest of Mt. Ordeals, the place that he had sought to find inner peace, had simply served to alienate him further. As of yet, he had not found that piece of mind that he so desperately sought. And, he was tired of seeking… Tomorrow, ready or not, he was going to challenge the peak.

Kain shoved a stick into the flame, poking the fire higher, with short and vicious jabs.

Why do they get to be happy… and me… I’m cut off from everything I’ve known and loved? Why? When do I ever get–

“Is this seat taken?” a deep, powerful voice broke into his thoughts, startling him instantly. Kain peered up into the looming darkness to see the darker outline of a man against the sky.

How… did he get up here?

“If this fire is taken, then that is okay?”

“N-no! Please, forgive me… you are quite welcome.” Kain attempted to make up for his loss of mind. “You must excuse me. It’s just that I haven’t seen or heard from another person in so long…”

“I know,” the man replied, causing a chill to tug at every blond hair on the nape of Kain’s neck. He made his way into the firelight, sitting easily down upon a nearby stone.

“Would you like..?” Kain held out a hardened loaf of bread, or what was left of it. That was another reason he had to challenge the mountain soon. His rations were low, and with cold days coming, food would be impossible to find.

“No, thank you,” the man replied. “I do appreciate this, though.”

The visitor motioned to the fire. It reflected strangely in his slanted green eyes, his hair changing colors in the flames’ dance. He did not actually seem to be cold.

Kain was getting a few ideas about the newcomer, but he wasn’t sure that he liked what they added up to. “Oh, no problem. No problem at all.”

The man turned, glancing at the dark outcropping of the summit. Then he returned his gaze on Kain. “You going to try it?”

“Thinking about it… tomorrow maybe.” The dragoon didn’t question how the man knew of the trial upon the mountain. After all, it was a pretty popular legend anymore.

“Really?” the man asked, falling suddenly silent. He studied the flames. “You think you will find your answers there?”

The dragoon looked at him sharply, “Of course… if I live.”

“Oh, you’ll live all right,” he was still lost in the blaze. “But what do you expect to win?”

“Win? My true self, of course! Why else would I be here?”

“Ah…” the visitor looked up finally. “Your true self, you say. Are you so sure?”

“But… Cecil won. He became the Paladin! He destroyed his dark side!” Kain found himself suddenly getting desperate. The visitor was voicing the very doubts that had been nagging the Dragoon each and every night.

“Yes, Cecil…” the man sighed, eyes saddening, and confirming Kain’s fears. “But, you aren’t Cecil.”

“What are you saying? That this trial can work for Cecil but not for me? Why not?”

“Cecil… ” the man began slowly. “He was already the Paladin. It was in his heart, his spirit, his destiny. The moment he took it into his mind to start a quest to cleanse his soul… he became the Paladin. But, it was not until he faced the darkness within himself that he could realize this, and embrace this hidden power.”

“And..?”

There was silence.

“What does that have to do with me?” Kain pressed.

“As I said, you are not Cecil.”

Kain clenched his fists by his sides. He was almost shaking with rage. “So what are you saying? I’m soiled and evil with a stain that can never be erased?”

The man looked at him calmly. “Did I say that? No… I believe that those words came from your mouth, Kain.”

“That’s what you’re suggesting, though!” He was so angry he didn’t think to ask how the man knew his name.

“No, actually, it’s not. If you would like to listen, I could possibly tell you,” a droll glance up caused the disgruntled Dragoon to fall quiet. “Very well, now… As with Cecil, the true spirit of Light is held Within.”

Kain sighed, “So I’ve been told.”

“Yes, but… it is not there…” He motioned to the mountain’s summit. “Nor can it be won using this.” He reached a practiced hand back to caress his sword’s grip. “The Light is held here… and here…” He touched his chest, then his forehead. “If it is not there, then it does not exist.”

Kain frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“A man is nothing more than he makes himself, Kain,” the visitor shook his head. “If you keep telling yourself of your wicked and sinful ways, eventually you will come to believe, and even live these proclamations. Man makes his own evil. It’s always been that way.”

“So, you’re saying that Cecil became a Paladin not because he over came his dark side, but because he believed he was a Paladin?” Kain shook his head again.

“In knowing that he could become Paladin, that he was not chained to the world by his past deeds. By believing that the Light would accept him… in those ways, he could overcome his past darkness.”

Kain was growing ever more confused. He sighed.

The man frowned. “You cannot expect to embrace the reality all at once. But, know this… If you do fight tomorrow, you will not find the answers you seek. You will walk away from Mt. Ordeals having defeated your own self, and that is what you will see.”

“Then… what can I do? If not here… then where?”

The man reached out, poking at mid-air, but Kain plainly felt the warmth of the hand on his chest. “There. In yourself.”

“But…”

“There is so much self-doubt in you, Kain. The Light cannot accept one who does not accept himself. You must learn to forgive, child. Others at first, then yourself. To learn self-love and appreciation. The day you can honestly stop calling yourself ‘evil and stained’ is the day you will begin to embrace the Truth.”

“And where do I go to learn that?”

The man made a wide motion, a sweeping that took in the world in every direction. “Life is Man’s greatest teacher. Up here you’ve left that behind, Kain. Not only do you need to learn who you are, you need to learn how to truly live again. That’s a pretty tall order for one young Dragoon…”

“Hey!” Kain barked, “I’m not just any young Dragoon, you know!”

“I know… that’s why I have faith in you. And know this one last thing — you are not alone in your quest. Every man on the Blue Planet faces a similar journey in his life. Not everyone is successful.”

Kain was packing up his stuff as quickly as he could, figuring that his meager rations would last. He didn’t have much time. His greatest ordeal would begin tomorrow.

“What are you doing, Kain?”

“Packing…” the blond haired man looked up. “Tomorrow I ride for Baron…”

Something like relief passed over the traveler’s face. He smiled, though somewhat sadly. “Well, then, peace be with you, Kain…”

The man rose, extending one hand to the Dragoon.

“And with you, too, KluYa,” Kain took the hand, surprised at how solid it felt. He smiled in return. “Thank you.”

The spirit nodded, grinning impishly. “Hey, don’t get me wrong. I was just tired of seeing you moping around up here all the time.”

“Yeah… right…” Kain laughed, then returned to his packing, though he still felt the strange eyes upon him.

“Kain..?” the voice was oddly subdued, “Please… take care of my boys for me.”

“Boys?” Kain asked, looking up.

His sight was greeted with the early morning mists rising from the valley, and nothing more.

Golbez had already captured her chin in the crook of his forefinger and thumb.

Locked within Zot’s dark embrace, Rosa felt the sorrow of the Blue Planet resounding through her entire being. Strapped to the cold steel mechanism in the inner chamber of the Tower, she felt not unlike a hunter’s trophy hung above the mantle. A dim, soiled world pressed in around her, a mechanical existence that was not quite living and even further away from death. Time crept a monotonous cadence through her mind — how long she had been there, she could not say. Neither partaking in night nor day, for both seemed equal to senses that were so far away from the sun’s gentle touch, it felt like eons. The Tower stank of death and the delight of evil. The warmth of her heart seemed the only living thing within the cold, mechanical structure.

As the hissing of the sliding door sounded, Kain entered the room. He was all cold gleaming metal, withdrawn into his darkness and hidden in the shell of his dragoon armor. She thought that perhaps once, she might have known him. That this may have been the boy that had danced her about the ball room only two years ago… the Kain had hidden under the bridge of the waterway in Baron as kids when they played chocobo tag. He had been the boy with the brilliant smile and a witty word to fit all occasions. She had been “Rosey”. Cecil had always been Cecil. The trio had been inseparable.

This man was no longer her Kain.

Pain intermingled with disgust woke inside every time she saw what he had become. She cursed Golbez for what he had done to Kain — for taking away one of her dearest friends. She sometimes found herself cursing Kain for being too weak to deny the darkness. She often cursed herself for putting Cecil into this danger.

Rosa wanted to weep, overcome with the sorrow that rushed through her at the sight of her old friend. The last ounce of pride would not let her — not in front of the man who was once Kain. The spark within refused to let her give up, as much as Golbez’s darkness pressed on her and gnawed on her self-will. She would never give up the hope that Cecil would soon come to find her. She knew, without knowing how, that he would.

The dragoon took his position at the far end of the room, his spear gripped tightly in one fist. Rosa could see his eyes glittering under the dragon skull mask as he watched her with a feverish light. She was here because the man who was once Kain had wanted to keep her close to him.

They had never been further apart.

He guarded her in complete silence. She never attempted to speak to him.

Images flashed through her head hundreds upon hundreds of times. The sounds echoing, her sense merging, until she wasn’t quite certain that the things she remembered were actually the truth. Memory saw the man who was once Kain towering over Cecil’s broken body, a spear raised and gleaming in the Crystal’s silent light. It had been in Mysidia… no Damcyan… no Fabul! Yes, Fabul… Fabul…. Fabul…. The images became too painful to conjure up, yet too relentless to lay aside. Her Cecil, a crumpled heap upon the silver-sheened tiles of the Fabulian Crystal chamber. And her Kain at fault, ready to put him past the pain of this world.

Her words had stopped it — “No, don’t!”

She had awaken from sweat streaked dreams there in the Tower, calling these words. The man who was once Kain heard them. He knew what they meant. They had saved Cecil’s life. Perhaps it had been that last spark of what was once Kain coming to life, having mercy. Perhaps.

Then Golbez’s had darkness descended upon them all. Rosa, weak and powerless in the grips of the Dark Lord, had been taken from her love. If only she hadn’t demanded Cecil to allow her to come… if only… if only… But she had foolishly wanted to fight by Cecil’s side, to prove her worth to him. She did not know she would have to face the man who was once Kain.

Being merely a White Mage, Rosa could not fathom what twisted powers the Man of Darkness had worked on the man who was once Kain. Like all of his tainted creatures, Golbez had granted the man who was once Kain powers and strengths unnatural. The man who was once Kain seemed to have little problem in taking them. This was what frightened Rosa so. The gifts of Darkness were a double-edged blade.

The Kain she had remembered was a tall, slender-built man, and a skilled fighter. There had been a glow to his face, an unshakable love of life and joy of being. He had cared for Cecil like a brother, despite the fact that the dark knight had often been able to best the dragoon in most of their sparring matches since as far back as she could remember. Cecil had always held an unnaturally keen sense for battle and a great talent for sword skills. Kain could not match up to the dark knight. Though his heart was strong, and hand steady, he had always lacked self-control.

Rosa now looked at the man who was once Kain. She had seen this man in action and knew that he had defeated Cecil without much difficulty. Nor a second thought or consideration for the one that had once been a brother to him. That was why he was not Kain. She hated the twisted and vengeful powers Golbez had granted him. It was he power to kill without heart. The power to murder. She shuddered as his haunted, dead eyes watched over her.

He thought this was love.

Rosa wanted to scream. She wanted to hit him until he came back to his senses.

This is not love! Love does not purposely hurt the one you care about!

Golbez was suddenly there — he did not enter by any means she could see, he just simply was. The room shrank and bowed as he stepped into the center of the chamber. Light itself seemed to fear him, dancing from the huge plated armor that concealed his body, wrapping him in gloom. The man who was once Kain seemed small beside the Dark Lord.

Rosa felt minuscule.

How is Cecil going to be able to fight that?

“Kain,” the voice that came from within the helmet should not have been there. It was deep, golden, resounding — wrapped within an ancient lilt that had never fell upon her ears before. It was as if the words were blessed to be spoken by this man…. until one remembered who he was. “There is duty for you below.”

“Master…” the man who was once Kain bowed from his waist. His hot, darkened eyes fell upon her and Rosa could feel the possessive loathing seeping from the shadows. He didn’t want to leave her alone with another man, even if that man was his own Master.

Rosa didn’t want to be left with the Dark Lord, either.

Thus far, Golbez had not harmed her nor made any untoward move in her direction. If she didn’t know better, she would think that he was actually attempting to avoid contact with her. She could not understand why. But, she was thankful for every moment that she did not have to spend in his presence.

Rosa could only watch helplessly as the room dimmed at the man who was once Kain’s exit. Now all that remained was the darkness. And the frantic drumming of her heart. She swallowed back the bile of fear that filled her mouth with its bitter taste.

Golbez, too, seemed to watch as the dragoon left. Rosa could hear the rise and fall of his breath, the only indication that something deep within the mountain of midnight armor was actually alive. When the door had closed securely behind, the Dark Lord turned full attention upon her.

Rosa shrank back inside her skin, horror thickening the air as it clung to her damp form. She tugged uselessly at the bonds around her wrists and ankles, the rope nibbling at her flesh. Golbez had already captured her chin in the crook of his forefinger and thumb. His gauntleted hand held firm but gentle, big enough to smother her if he were to spread his palm wide. She could only quiver in frozen terror, caught by the hand of darkness itself.

“I find that Kain is taking a little too much enjoyment in his duty here with you,” as the voice spoke, its strange lulling magic washed over her. The young White Mage could feel a whimper bubble within her throat as Golbez turned her head from side to side very, very slowly.

Just one quick twist of his wrist could–

“Obsession clutters the mind. A cluttered mind does not fight well. He needs a bit of time away, don’t you think?”

Rosa could only close her eyes, feeling time creeping around her, wondering if the sun or moons shone outside. Her stomach reeled as the Dark Lord began to trace one finger softly over the slope of her chin and down the white flesh of her throat. He paused, as if not certain whether he should continue.

“Mmmm…. you are lovely…” Golbez murmured, almost a true feeling passing those lips.

Shiva…! What is he going to do to me?

Her breath was icy in her lungs, catching in her chest painfully.

He wouldn’t possibly..! I belong to Cecil! And only Cecil!

Her body prickled as she hung in desperate fear, the scent heavy in the air. Rosa could only tremble, like a tiny and frightened creature caught in a predator’s mighty maw. She felt violated. She felt terrified. Whatever Golbez wanted, she knew she was powerless to stop him.

“So… beautiful…” He stroked the back of his fingers down one cheek, then the other, feeling the wet tracks of the tears she could not hold back. The Dark Lord brushed the straying hair away from her eyes. Then he tilted her head up to look at him. His darkness filled her vision, and she wondered in fearful awe what was actually under the ebony plated helmet. What eyes watched her so?

“What do you know of beauty?” She had thought. To her dismay, she realized she must have uttered it aloud.

His soft, throaty chuckle floated through the room. It was a warm, brazen sound. Golbez tilted his head as he gazed down into her face. “I have eyes that can see, just as you do. That is all that is needed to know such a thing.”

“A man who recognizes beauty of any kind… must posses the heart to understand what he sees,” she was too afraid to speak louder than a hoarse whisper. Still, he heard.

“Child,” spoke that strange, magnificent voice. It sounded almost regretful. “I’m living proof that he does not.”

Much to her surprise, Rosa found her response rising through the darkness of the chamber, “Then, why didn’t you just kill Cecil when you had the chance?”

Golbez suddenly jerked back, a choked sound coming from within the depths of the helmet. Rapidly, he turned away, like someone blinded by a moment of terrible realization.

Caught by surprise, Rosa wrenched back away from his presence. After a moment of gasping breath, she glanced up at the Dark Lord’s back, and a strange thought ran through her mind.

Is it possible… that Golbez is reaching for the Light… somewhere within him and he doesn’t even know it?

A tension that Rosa had not even noticed had faded in the room drew back around the huge, armored man. As if regaining his senses, he swept his cloak around him like a dark shield. She shied away again as he turned to face her.

“I think it is better if you were not to remember today’s conversation,” he intoned.

Rosa gave a muffled gasp as the Dark Lord motioned his hand in front of her eyes. A deep, chilled sleep rose up to take her, and she knew upon awakening, she would remember none of what had passed between them.

“I want to go home.”

The trappings of his room in Zot were more luxurious than any Ben had ever seen in Mysidia. There was a large bed in one corner which was piled with thick downy pillows and crowned with a soft inviting blanket. A brazen fireplace was built into the far wall, a blaze crackling pale orange in its depths. The walls were high and adorned with long ancient looking tapestries. There was a huge oak wardrobe in the far corner. All the clothes that were inside looked to be able to fit him. Despite this, he preferred the tunic and trousers from back home. The clothes inside the wardrobe were all a deep black hue. There was an overwhelming feeling of wrongness that hung in the air. It clung to his skin like a pinprickled sweat.

Father…

The day wore on, the light on the wall shifting to stretch across the far corner, casting a glow upon the tapestry there. Upon it were woven images of some sort of paradise land. The sky was very blue and the flowers were bright and colorful. The people looked very happy. They all had wings.

Where are you?

Ben startled as the door opened, a large gaping darkness from the other side. His tiny fists balled, clutching at his knees. There was a man there. He was tall, handsome, with striking white hair drawn back in a loose ponytail, a cold smile pasted upon his lips as if he really wanted to mean it.

His hair… it’s white…? He looks somewhat like Father?

The man approached slowly, long violet robes rustling with his movements. The child found himself sliding away across the floor until his back was pinned against the wall.

There’s something about him. Something very very wrong…

The voice smooth like warm honey, “Hello Golbez. How do you like your room here in the Tower?”

How does he know my name? I’ve never met him before.

The boy did not answer. He simply drew his legs up closer to his chest. The wall was cold against his back.

The man did not seem to even cast a gaze about the room, but said, “You did not touch your meal. Was it not to your liking?”

Father… where are you? Please come and get me. Come take me away from this place.

The child still did not answer. His green eyes blinked up at the man, uncertainly. On first glance, the man did not seem to want to hurt him. But…

…But the feeling I get when I look into his eyes… Makes me dizzy.

“Were you not hungry?”

Ben shook his head.

“Now come, certainly you must be. You’ve had such a long trip.”

The boy wanted to ask where he was. And how he had come to be there. Instead, he said, “I want to go home.”

“Golbez.” The man chided softly. “You are home.”

Ben felt his lip quiver ever so slight. “Where is my Father?”

“Father?” his grin seemed to turn sharp as the question rang across the chamber.

The boy’s green eyes hardened, “My father, KluYa! Where is he? I want my father!”

“Oh… KluYa?” the man turned away, face stricken by what seemed genuine pain that did not touch his voice. “He’s gone.”

Gone?

Ben struggled to his feet, “G-gone? Where?”

“Away.”

No… He can’t be.

“Well… wh-when… will he be back?”The man drew a deep, hard breath, reaching a hand slowly out to the boy. The child flinched slightly, but allowed the hand to settle softly upon his forehead. “Golbez… He’s not coming back.”

What? I don’t believe it!

“What? Why?”

“He… left you.”

Left me…?

Ben’s green eyes reflected upward, misting with confusion. The pain behind his eyes kept the images from growing clear. “He would never leave me.”

There was a strange feeling as the man smiled down from above, like a twisting in his mind. “But, Golbez, he has.”

-He’s gone. Not coming back.-

“W-w-w-” Ben took in a sobbing breath. Something was happening to him. Something was not right… but… he… was much too sleepy to try to figure it out.

- It is not your fault he didn’t want you, Golbez…-

“Father..” the child hissed from between dry lips. “Didn’t… want me?”

-But… I do. Let me show you… let me teach you… so much you have yet to learn. You will be my dark star.-

“Golbez… I… will be your Father now. Let me show you the way.”

-I will never leave you… never let you go…-

The man reached out, and drew the mesmerized child into his dark embrace.