[Skell]
A lone shadow haunted through the midnight capital. Me.
As with every night, Selem's scattered beacons bathed the city in unending radiance - shining collectively like a second sun. But there were gaps. Crevices. Dim alleys where the beacon's light couldn't quite angle into.
Those dark lanes were my accelerated path through the vast districts toward my destination: the combat center.
Though as I cut around buildings and occasionally extra skinny-dipped into the sewers, I thought back. To when I fell into the warm caress of my broad bed in the Templar Quarters.
Just about everything faded into those scarlet sheets at once. So much doubt. Tension. Pain. All in the past, replaced by victory. Nothing felt more surreal in my unlife.
…I'm really here in the Citadel. With my own room… as a Templar. I actually won.
Nearly an hour passed as I soaked in the world's sweetest marinade. Somewhere between happy tears, my gaze drifted. Not to the elegant white-gold wardrobes or impressive views from my arched windows, but to my bedside table.
Grains of sand drifted down the hourglass on its surface. Down to its last few specks, I involuntarily reached over to reverse its position.
Just for the last grain to fall… then rise back up to the top. Then another. The next hour started without any human intervention.
…Enchanted, huh? Just like everything else.
I sat up in bed. Wait - it's midnight! Niles!
Sheets clung to me like a cape as I flew out of bed. Instantly my eyes sharpened onto the door. But, I almost forgot; there was something of mine that needed to come with me.
Some shroud-enhanced sprinting later and I was at the Citadel's entrance - or in this case, exit. Orders required me to log my exit time and intended destination. Sure, whatever. I did, and then I was out into the city.
And now, I can see the combat center.
I snaked down and out of a narrow alley, reforming inch-by-inch as I stepped onto the well-lit main road. Across the broad street stood the hall. Standing under that?
Niles.
A rock soared over the lofty roof of the hall. It finally hit a downturn, dropping right into the swordsman's glove. "Two-hundred and eighty-one. All time record, here I co- ah, there y'are, Purple!"
He grinned. I did the same, crossing over to him at the torchlit double-doors. "Sorry I kept you waiting. I was busy doing… well, I don't have an excuse, really."
Niles flung the rock far over his shoulder, and I think I heard a yowling cat. "'Course you do. You've a Templar's schedule, now." His attention dropped to my garb, their expensive colors contrasting sharply with his faded red vest. "Wow, take a look at you!" he elbowed me, swaying the satchel on my shoulder. "Nice digs, mate. Or… should I call you 'Squire Skell' now?"
I snorted. "I'd rather you called me a scrote. I've heard enough 'Squire this' and 'Commandant that' to last a lifetime."
"Ha! Second truest thing you've ever said, mate!"
Laughs came from us both. But as the noise tapered off, coming to replace it was the realization that neither of us knew how to approach the elephant on the street. I didn't want the silence to veer into awkwardness. So I jumped straight into what I'd rehearsed in my head.
"I… know it's gotta sting, Niles. Losing out on becoming a Templar. You deserved to win. And the rounds would've been a miracle fix for your hometown. But-"
"Hold it. If this is about what you wanted to show me, let it wait a sec. Before you do anything for my sake, there's something I want - no, no, I need to say."
I took a hand off my satchel. "What is it?"
A rare stiffness took Niles' face. "Ever since this morning, I've been thinking. 'Bout our talk in that final match, I mean. You told me dark magic doesn't have a say in who we have to be. But if I'm being truthful… I dunno how much of me ever really believed differently. I think… I was terrified. I didn't want to be the same monster Pa was and Ma used to be." Gloved fingers brushed pensively against the veins on his wrist. "Their blood'll always flow through me. But magic? I didn't have to use it. Didn't even have to think about it. I could pin all those horrible deaths that day on it, no sweat. But then you made me think. Realize. Not just that I was tricking my own brain… but that I was scared over diddly-squat!"
He beamed - looking freer than I'd ever seen him. "We're all our own men and women - each and every damn one us. Not our pasts. Not our parents. Not what anyone thinks we are. We're what we decide to be. You're living proof of that."
Living? I questioned internally.
"Proof?" I questioned externally.
"C'mon - don't make me spell it out, mate," his eyes turned sheepish. "Just about everyone in the Ordeals saw you as some fiend. Me included. Wouldn't it have been so easy to just… be one? But when fire burned all around you, you didn't forget about me. You risked everything to help me see."
Niles' gloves curled into fists. "So, obviously, if you can brush off a world of loathing to be you and only you, then Abyss, I can brush off mine!"
"That's… giving me a lot of credit," I said, honestly surprised. "I just did what felt right. And… I was nowhere close to perfect throughout the Ordeals."
"Quit tryin' to play humble! You're just fishing for compliments!"
Shade. Caught red-handed.
"Seriously though," I clasped a hand on Niles' shoulder, letting my grin drop. "I'm glad you've got a new outlook. Here's hoping all the guilt on your shoulders will finally fade."
"Fingers crossed, right? Oh, and speaking of fingers, there's something cool I wanted to show off. But let's make distance from the combat center, yeah? It'll work better."
Niles set off past a line of street lamps onto the empty street. Curiously, I followed after.
"Man, I better not have forgotten how this goes…" Niles muttered to himself, stopping at the street's center.
I peered over his shoulder. "What are you up to? It's not gonna earn you another prison sentence, is it?"
"My armament license isn't outta date until tomorrow! I-I mean, its a secret. Just watch!"
His face went silent. Spasms quickly disrupted his features. Wrists pulsed; fingers twitched.
He's casting something. But what?
Jet-black darkened the fingertips of Niles' gloves. He raised them overhead. A dark bolt fired off his left index finger. Then his right ring. All ten launched in quick succession, silently, like unloosed whispers - alongside a much louder incantation.
"Faux-Fireworks!"
In a black flash, the dark bolts burst into an array of countless shadowy sparks. Anywhere else in the world, the color would've been masked by night's darkness. But here? In Selem's luminance? Nothing could've been more striking. Niles painted the sky in a mesmerizing pattern of Selem's radiant light and his conjured pitch blackness. Two contrary elements, each other's antithesis. Now they'd never been closer - united together over the capital.
"Ended up bigger than I expected," Niles released a breath, watching the air show beside me. "Guess my emotions have been running wild lately. Knock on wood that patrols don't come by to ask questions."
I didn't respond.
"This… this is the art Ma taught me," he admitted with a mix of shame and pride. "Showing me her dark arts helped me craft my own. That's what led Pa to Mother Tree. In a way, my wanting to use dark magic killed her. But… I'd be stupid to blame the magic itself."
"Not stupid." Awe sparkled in my eyes. "Just mistaken."
"Yeah… Yeah. I mean, look it at twinkle up there. Beautiful. And it's totally harmless. Say it blows up in your face - its blown up in mine more than once. Nothing. No pain. No scars. No curses. Only laughter."
"And its a connection to your mom."
That made him smile. Not at the sky. Above it. "Right. With this… Ma's always just a word away."
Faux-Fireworks continued to combust awhile longer. A minute in, I remembered to lay a hand on my satchel. "Almost forgot - what's in this bag belongs to you. Though I've got something to ask first. Just to put my mind at ease."
"Eh? Sure, lay it on me!"
My stone-serious face pulled every stray strand of Niles' attention. "Imagine you could do anything you wanted. Anything. What would be your number-one priority?"
"Saving Mother Tree," he didn't even stop to think. "I'd take on the Ordeals all over again for another chance. I… I dunno what I'll do when - if it dies." Repressed despair seeped into his tangled features. "But Mother Tree's running out of time."
The complete truth. Knew I could trust him.
"That's all I needed to know." I took off my satchel and tossed it to Niles. "Here. All yours."
The man caught it and immediately buckled. "Sun above, this is heavy! You lugged this all across Selem!?"
"Well, shadows don't weigh much," I commented.
Niles dropped to a careful knee, laying the satchel on the street. He glanced up periodically as his gloves tugged at the zipper. "Whatever this might be, it means a lot. Big or small, I always say that it's the the thought that coun-c-c…"
The man's legs gave out and he dropped onto his back. Hands shook; grey eyes opened and shut dozens of times just to communicate the same impossible thing: each and every glittering, gold round in that overflowing bag was real.
"Wha-!" Niles heaved, pointing at the satchel. "But… this… how? I…" he buried his face in his gloves, chasing his breath. "How'd you get all this? Not even nobles have this many rou-"
"Shhh!" I cautioned. "We don't know who might be listening. Let's just say an old man left it to me. Well, technically to Ol- er, Freckles. He's got the other half."
"H-half!? Freckles has even more!? Wait, there's no way this old fogey just… gave it to you two? Did he?"
"Sorta. It's a long story. Not all that interesting."
"O-oh." He sat up. "But, are you sure he'd be okay with you giving it all to me? It… It's so much. You could keep some for yourself, or-or give it to people in need."
"Like you and Mother Tree's people?" I smirked. "Besides, I was given express permission to do whatever I want with these. I don't have much use for them anyhow. I'm-"
Dead.
"-a Templar. I'll have replaced them before you know it. Really."
Slowly, his eyebrows relaxed. "…All right. If you're positive." Silently, he lowered his head. "But… d-dammit…"
Niles threw a wrist over his eyes. "I-I dunno what to say, Purple!" his voice wavered like a ship on stormy seas. "This feels like some kinda dream! These can get me the best specialist in the capital, and a whole entourage to defend them on the way there. We can save Mother Tree. We can… we can…"
He let his gloves sop up the tears, so that he could reach out for me with his eyes. "Thanks - a hundred, no, a thousand times. Thank you, Purple!"
I tapped him on the arm, then pulled him up to his feet. "Don't mention it. So, now that you're set, what's the next move? Finding that specialist to dispel Mother Tree's curse?"
Niles steadied his breaths. "Before the Ordeals, I combed Selem high and low to find that special someone. Everything's been made ready. All that's left is to put these babies in the right hands." He gazed off into the distance. "Mother Tree's been clawing onto life for long enough. About time her son came home."
That's when it finally hit me. This was the end. We had responsibilities - big ones - pushing us to entirely separate parts of the nation. Chances were, I'd never see Niles again.
I forced myself not to look sullen. "Hey, uh… I'm glad we met. Thanks for walking this road with me. Despite the bends."
"Same here, Purple," he sighed. "I'm not much for travel - dunno if I'll ever be this deep in Lumerit's heart again. But if I ever am, be sure that the first thing on my to-do list is finding you. Not many get to know the goings-on of a genuine Templar, yeah? Whose lips to hear from better than yours?"
I forced said lips to smile. "Yeah…"
Niles kicked pebbles around. "Welp, guess I oughta hit the ol' trail. Thanks again, mate. For everything."
With effort, he faced the empty road leading to the city's exit, hoisting the heavy satchel over his shoulder. "See you later, Skell. Remain in the ligh- wait… light?"
The swordsman bolted back to me, stopping on a dime to kick up dirt he nearly inhaled as he bent to catch breath.
"Uh… Niles?"
"I forgot something!" he shot up. "Skell, that thing you said that one time, it didn't add up!"
What you're saying now isn't adding up…
He checked my face. "In the First Ordeal, I mean! You talked about how you power your dark magic. Tell it again."
"Oh, that?" I scratched at my hair. "Er… sure you want me to dredge that up? Wasn't either of our finest moments, then."
"Let that water float under the bridge, mate - now what'd you say?"
"Well if you meant just that one thing, I said dark magic feeds off negative emotion. Hate, fear, sorrow. The more I tap into those feelings, the more effective my arts become."
He folded his arms, stumped. "Like I thought. Not at all how Ma taught me."
"What? How'd she do it?"
"In her words, 'when castin' dark magic, you have to focus on everything.'"
"Everything? I'm not following."
"When I say everything, I mean everything. All those emotions we carry, good and bad, big and small - nothing gets left out. It's that chaotic… friction. Those sparks of contradiction and conflict and complexity? That's dark magic's real source."
"Th-that can't be right. I've used dark arts perfectly fine this whole time."
"Ma met hundreds of dark mages, Purple. She was one of the best. Her way is the way."
But if that's the case, then all this time, I haven't been feeding my dark magic to its fullest. Half a feast, just left on the table…
Niles half-shrugged. "Everyone has their casting quirks, I get that. But a difference like this feels a fair sight bigger than personal preference." He noticed my pensive look. "Though, I could be wrong - I've been wrong more times than I can count. Just, give it some thought. You'll be going toe-to-toe with undead and necromancers now; you'll need every edge."
"Yeah. Right." I nodded. "For whatever comes, I definitely will."
I shook off those thoughts and looked to the bittersweet present, extending an open hand. "I'll see you around, Niles. Remain in the light."
"You do the same," his hand swooped in to meet mine. "But don't be afraid of the dark while you're there."
Time always marched forward relentlessly when you looked at it from a distance. Just like Niles, resolutely charging down the cobblestone road toward home. Eventually, all I could see was his bright red headband in the street's distance. Liquid muddled my eye. A quick wipe, and he was gone.
I sighed. Partly because I was separated from another friend. And partly because my night wasn't quite over.
"Fooled another with your charade?" sniped a voice lurking within a nearby alley. Bold footfalls echoed closer and closer, 'til a man wearing clothes exactly like mine prowled out onto the street.
"Sometimes," the dark-haired man glared, "I suspect I'm the only sane mind around."
"Not your best joke, Hyland. Wanna take another stab?"
He scanned the silent street and smirked. No witnesses. "Why, that's entirely the plan."
I crossed unimpressed arms. "Not your best plan either - I've known you were here for some time now."
"Bluffing? Again? How many times will you draw you from this well?"
"No bluffs. A couple minutes back, I heard footsteps that suddenly stopped - not hard to notice in the dead of night. Since no one showed up and there was never the sound of them doubling back, I figured it was someone with reason to stick around. With reason to wait 'til Niles left." My eyes cut thin. "Who else but you?"
He already heard I was gonna meet Niles, and at what time. And to find me here… he must've seen the exit log at the Citadel. This scumbag tailed me through the whole city.
Hyland crossed the street. "Let me shine a light on your lies, skeleton. If you truly knew of my presence, why not confront me? That idiot would've surely assisted you."
I lifted a palm. "Because… I want to talk."
That stopped him in his tracks. It even made him laugh. "To talk? Of what? Your broken staff? Your lack of shadows to shrink within? You want to 'talk' to buy time for some sly trick."
"Diversions like that would imply I'm at a disadvantage. Your sabre's just as broken as my staff."
A glint appeared at his side. The broken half of his sword. "Shattered or not, it can still run through your sorry skull. Tell me, did your slipshod training prepare you to fight with two twigs?"
My anger flared. But I had to temper my temper - keep it from antagonizing Hyland further. Else a battle between us would become unavoidable. Not that my enemy gave me time to pick words.
Hyland lifted the jagged metal. "Enough verbal jousting. Whatever this 'talk' concerns - if it is even real to begin with - it's meaningless. I am a Templar; you are undead. Irrefutable, unchangeable facts. Nothing you say will stay your demise. And I will rise from your ashes."
Part of me fell into instant agreement. I knew Hyland's obstinance. For me to be anything more than an evil, manipulative abomination was impossible in his eyes. And even if it wasn't… that narrative was priceless to him. A narrative that'd buy him immortality in the history books.
In the past, that'd be okay. I'd given Hyland the slip several times. And if it came down to it… I'd do what I had to if it meant stopping him from ruining my resurrection. But after my conversation with Soleil? Maybe another avenue was possible. A permanent fix with a past rooted in success. Amara. Cynthine. Niles. Shared understanding got me this far.
And it could get me even further. But Hyland isn't gonna entertain a moral or emotional argument.
So what about a logical one?
"Just think, Hyland: how long will we be at each other's throats?"
"Preferably," he advanced, "tonight will mark the end of it!"
I stepped back as quickly as I spoke. This was the first time I'd withdrawn without feeling fear. "You've had the upper hand on me before; I'm still here. What's to say you won't fail again? We can't keep doing this; we both risk everything!"
He quickened, following me to the street's other end. "Flawed reasoning. I've won before. Niles is gone. The rest of your sympathizers sleep in the Citadel. The city is exhausted from the day's festival and those incompetent City Guard rarely patrol these parts so late."
My back collided against a wall. I glanced up to find the combat center looming over me. No one manned the lobby this late and if anyone trained in the rooms, they'd assume any sounds of combat came from particularly noisy neighbors.
Abyss, if I could just make him listen!
Hyland marched closer and closer. "No one will come to save you, and you stand no chance. This time, you lose!"
"Wait! Just tell me why-"
"Stop talking and face me, skeleton!"
Time slowed to a crawl. Shade… was this really so naive a plan!? Getting through to Niles was tough, but Hyland's skull is thicker than bark! Even if I escape, I'll have to watch my back for who knows how long. He'll never give up.
Complex thoughts locked horns inside my head. Some spiteful, some plotting, some hoping, and some too tertiary to name. Far from the first time my mind was in a place like this. But it was the first time I focused on more than the negatives.
I listened to Niles. And let everything blend together like a chaotic maelstrom inflicting disorder on an ocean of emotion.
Soleil, guess it didn't take long before you proved me wrong. Looks like its time for plan B…
"Hand of Decay!"
The incantation barely left my lips before a ghoulish green energy engulfed my left hand - dusting its white glove in moments. That wasn't all it did.
A head sized crater ate into the brick wall my fingers rested against. It'd only been there a second. Yet it chewed through so much without the slightest intention.
Seeing this, Hyland didn't just slow - he stepped back. Even he knew this wasn't my norm. I should've been satisfied to see it. Some fragment of me was, swirling around the necrotic energy in my palm.
But mostly, I felt grim. He knew my secret. He'd hunt me to the ends of Sanctuary for his bounty. And… no one was around. I had to deal with him.
I had to.
"I wish you left me another choice. But you're not making history, Hyland. You're being erased from it."
He gritted his teeth. "Like that art makes a lick of difference! No matter how strong it is, it won't matter if you never strike true!" Like a poised viper, Hyland lunged at me as I blazed towards him, left hand outstretched.
Going in, I didn't know how our battle would conclude. Too many variables were at play for a proper prediction. I was confident. But the funny thing about confidence?
It can change at the drop of a hat.
"Echo Fist!"
A colorless ripple soared between us. And expanded. The second it touched me, an unchallengeable demand forced any forward momentum to instantly reverse.
I was sprung away. Far. So was Hyland.
In a flash my eyes hit the sky. I rose quickly to find Hyland similarly baffled. We shared a look, realizing that neither was the source of our flight. Then our eyes darted for an answer. That answer found us first.
"Twenty-second oath of the Templar Order: 'Never raise a blade against my fellow Templar, barring the most extreme of circumstances.' Enlighten me, Squires: how 'extreme' are these 'circumstances?'"
Her voice shot from down the street like horizontal lightning. A lone woman - her previously pristine armor drenched in dried, black blood - strode toward us. In my shock, I couldn't even speak.
"H-hold it," Hyland's eyes went cold. "White locks? Red eyes? You're that rising star - the one they claim may be the next Lucival! 'The-"
"Blood Engine." She brushed aside her hair, face a regretful frown. "That epithet has spread about far too much. I'm not fond of such colorful, exaggeratory titles."
Her eyes moved to mine, a hint of something far from regret taking center stage. "I would much prefer my name: Amara."