Chapter 13

Fading

Racio sat upon a rooftop in the formerly largest city, the capitol city of Galbadia, on Gatava Tower. Now, of course, it was mostly the world’s largest pile of trash. The Necromancers had ravaged the city when Aurora had staged the coup and took over the tower with the help of those without life, the Summons and the Wraiths. Although the Guardian of the land, Gale, had long since disappeared, the realm had been left in the control of his trusted friend and captain of Gatava Tower’s military, a man by the name of Noxrio…something, and his second in command, Aero Alami.

With the help of a select group of other leaders, they led the order up until Aurora attacked with the rest of the Necromancers eight years ago and killed all but perhaps two of the Guardians. After that, the fighters and other militia boarded the limited amount of ships available and sailed off to other lands, retreating to live to fight another day, or so the boy had been told. However, Aero and the warriors that remained were pushed farther and farther back until their last stand was made in the highest chamber of Gatava Tower, an utter disaster. The warriors soon fled to join their others, but were slaughtered as they ran. Only Aero had remained to fight…until he had been caught and cursed with having the fading soul of a Necromancer.

Such a punishment to a human was basically death. Having the soul of a Necromancer would eventually kill him and bring up in its place a dark being that would be able to control the dark spirits of the world. It also made them need to drain the souls of others so they could live. Unless Aero had found an alternate way of feeding, he had most likely killed those close to him or had been fighting the hunger so long that he was dead by now.

Brushing some of his now ridiculously long bangs away from his face, Racio sighed and looked around. From his vantage point, he could see a great deal around him with startling detail. All the streets crawled with Necromancers and their summons of every kind. However, he noticed that the majority of the summons consisted of Willow-wisps, floating balls of pulsing purple light with red eyes and, chomping mouths (when they chose to open them) and skeletal Wyverns, small, Dragon-like creatures that would dive-bomb their prey and attempt to rip the victim’s throat out with their dagger-like teeth.

One of the Wyverns shrieked and left its master’s side, flying up and slamming to the roof Racio was sitting upon only five feet away, glaring at him with its cold, black eyes. He didn’t flinch. The creature wanted his soul—he knew it did, for its master. For the Necromancers, a soul was nourishment. However, Racio also knew that the Necromancers and their summons had been forbidden by Aurora to harm him. Just as predicted, the Wyvern glared at him for a few more moments before flapping its wings and lifting into the air again, shrieking in frustration, back to its master.

Racio sighed once more and looked at his palms, studying them. Ever since taking Mantodea’s hand…things about him had started to change, other than his sight and physical strength. His skin was losing its island tan and becoming almost ghastly pale, his fingers were lengthening and his nails were almost becoming claws, even his hair was lengthening to unusual lengths, forcing him to tie it back.

Racio’s throat constricted and he struggled to repress the sudden surge of emotion. Despite the many Necromancers that roamed the Tower grounds, he was lonely. Racio was lonelier than he had ever been before. The Necromancers obviously would never keep him company and there was no way he would ever trust Aurora and her “dark order”. But that left him with virtually no one. At most, it left him with the pockets of resistance here and there, but he wouldn’t know how to even find them, much less befriend them. And even then, he had agreed to join Aurora, hadn’t he? Well no, he had joined Mantodea, but she was gone and her sister had taken him under her wing, so to speak, some Necromancers actually did have wings.

Yet… she had given him freedom to do virtually whatever he wanted to. She had given him power beyond his wildest dreams, she had given him the freedom to go anywhere he desired. He had already visited dozens of places, experienced things he had never experienced before, big cities, grand forests… and found himself frustrated more and more by those experiences. He had everything he ever wanted; yet he was beginning to hate it.

“I wonder where Tyre is now…” Racio said aloud, ignoring the Willow-wisp that flew dangerously close to his head, jaws snapping like clockwork. “Probably with Flura,” he finished with a scowl, but he noticed that the scowl was more forced—as a habit—than actually heartfelt. He missed those two. He missed those two like he would miss his own heart. He wasn’t sure if he could stand for long being around the lovebirds, but…

…he found himself missing their company. He found that having power, but being without a single friend was a mental and emotional torture that he had never been prepared for. It ripped him apart inside. Every passing day, he felt his heart grow colder, his soul darker. He longed to hold onto the warmth of friendship.

To escape the confines of the island, he had accepted darkness. Yet now, after experiencing it, he found it lacking… and outright terrifying. It filled him with a strong dread for what could lay beyond if he kept going down that path…and, at the same time, the more he had of it, the more he wanted it…he hungered for it…

That was what scared Racio the most. Regardless of how evil the darkness truly was, he found himself wanting it more and more every day. He regretted accepting it now, yet he was not sure that, if he were allowed to relive that moment in his life, he would change his decision. What was happening to him? The light was fading from his soul. It faded from his heart faster than he could even notice, half of the time, but he had no doubt about it. He felt an unbalance in his heart and he knew that he had to do something to correct that, or soon it would be too late.

He had to leave Gatava Tower, he knew. He had to leave Aurora, leave the Necromancers, leave the Darkness, embark on a journey—this one to find Tyre and Flura and then to go back home to Atwegas with them hot on his trail. He would let them drag him back if it would help him any.

Another shriek—this one the cry of a terrified woman—shook him from his thoughts. He grabbed his dark sword and shot to his feet, running to the edge of the building. Directly below him, one of Aurora’s henchmen—not a Necromancer, but a simple, stupid, hairy, smelly human—was dragging a kicking and screaming woman past the building… right towards a group of ravenous summons, their masters having entered into the tower where their summons were not allowed to enter. The woman had raven hair and looked to be in her early twenties. She was probably slightly taller than Racio if he were his normal height, but as he was now, he imagined he stood a good head taller than her. She was dressed in a light blue dress and had some sort of projectile weapon attached to her right forearm. With a flash, the projectile—some kind of spinning, sharp disk—blasted off it and whistled through the air, cutting through a Willow-wisp, eradicating it. It whirled through the air and actually turned back like a boomerang, flying straight back at her and the henchman. However, the henchman jerked the girl to the side and the disk missed them cleanly, hitting the ground with a loud crack and a shower of sparks. The woman’s struggles doubled, but the henchman’s grip would not lose her.

Racio’s eyes narrowed and he slinked along the rooftop, watching the henchman and the woman. When Racio reached the edge of the roof, he leapt down and landed with a gentle shluff of his clothes, then sprinted, coming to a stop behind the remains of what used to be the walls of a house. He crept along the remains until he reached the end, where he peeked out once more. The Summons had spotted the man and the woman by now and crowded around them both, all snarling and shrieking in excitement. A few of them started towards the two humans, but those were beaten back by others that grew angry at the prospect of losing a meal. The circle around the henchman and woman closed and Racio’s grip on his sword tightened.

This was wrong. He could not let this happen! He dug his foot into the ground and tore away from his hiding spot behind the wall. He crossed out into the open and his presence was noticed immediately. Several of the Summons turned to face him, anger and hunger etched on their features. However, for some, it was too late. Dozens of ravenous Summons dived at the henchman and woman, teeth and claws longing for the feeling of their flesh.

“No!” Racio cried, rushing forward as fast as his legs could carry him. Yet… he was slower than usual… why could he not move like normal, or as normal as he had become? During his stay at Gatava Tower, everything about him had been made better by the darkness that Mantodea had imparted on him, yet now, that darkness seemed to flee… in fact, he felt weaker than before. He doubled and tripled his efforts and rushed past the first line of creatures, which did not attack him because of who and what he was. However, judging by the swarm ahead, Racio knew he would be too late.

His sword cut through the air and Summons alike, eliminating two, three, five, and then up to ten in a single swipe. Many of the creatures of snarled and screeched in disagreement, but still none attacked him. He was closer now and finally reached the pile of creatures that had leapt upon the henchman and the woman. Even as he cut through their ranks with ease, he feared the worst. Finally, though, the creatures backed away, furious at his intrusion, but none daring to go against their orders. On the ground were a tattered tunic, pants, and boots— the remnants of the henchman… and the woman hiding beneath them, still kicking and screaming in a panic.

A lump formed in Racio’s throat and he felt a surge of joy well up in his stomach, threatening to burst forth in yells and whoops. She had lived! Somehow the woman had survived the onslaught! From her position, Racio guessed that when the Summons attacked, she had taken cover behind the large man. When the man was pushed over, she was left in relative safety as the fiends tore at him. However, Racio knew full well that if he had only been a few seconds slower, he would have been too late.

He trusted the Necromancers and their summons about as far as he could throw the former henchman, and would not endanger the woman further. He quickly reached down and grabbed her flailing arm, eliciting more shrieking and kicking, and wrenched her to her feet.

“Hey!” Racio said sharply, grabbing her other arm and giving her a forceful shake. The woman stopped screaming and resisting immediately and her eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing soft, brown eyes. She stared at him for a long time and her bottom lip quivered. Suddenly, in a burst of emotion, she let out a sharp shout of joy and hugged him tightly around his neck, causing Racio to blush deeply. Granted, he had been hugged by Flura before, but this was another girl entirely.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed, releasing him and clasping her hands together. However, her joy dimmed by a lot when she saw the creatures gathering behind Racio, each and every one leering at one of the two humans with menace.

“We need to move,” Racio said softly. “They won’t be able to control their hunger much longer,” The woman said nothing, but just nodded, suddenly unsure of whose side this hero was on. However, for the moment, she would trust and follow him. “Do you know anywhere you can hide out?”

Immediately, alarms went off in the woman’s heart. He could be a spy, or a convert, and, if so, she could be leading him right back to their base! No, the Forest Owls would be continually protected from Aurora. Instead, she would take him to the former hideout… and there would she test him. If he passed the test, she would contact the Forest Owls and have the resistance group come to them and make the final decision. If he failed, she would run away in the night and get back to the Owls on her own.

“Yeah!” she said, a smile brightening her features. “Follow me! And hurry!” With those words, the two of them took off down the opposite road, away from the angry Summons. All the while, Racio felt as if he was on his last reserves of strength…it felt as though…he was starving….

What’s happening to me…?



The man Tyre had run into sat upon a large, sandy rock on the outskirts of the city. To the east was the tall peak of Mt. Suva. Clouds swirled around the top of it, preventing those on the ground from seeing what was above. Up there it might be paradise. His face contorted with anger. Paradise. The word was a lie. That word was a joke created by idiots who decided that they had the right to play with the emotions of others.

He squeezed his right fist so tightly that his arm began to tremble. The object in his hand did not give into the pressure and held strong, not breaking under the power of his grip. He opened his hand, ignoring the four small cuts on his palm created by his nails, and peered at the object in it. The object was a small, green, translucent stone with golden trim around the side of it. It was leaf-shaped and had two thin strips of leather tied together at the peak of its curve.

“Stupid,” he said gravely. “I almost lost this...” He let the stone fall through his fingers and closed them around the string, causing it to dangle below his hand. He lifted it up and swung it gently back and forth, letting it act as a pendulum, as if this action would hypnotize him and free him from the emptiness that ripped at his heart, the emptiness the previous owner of the trinket had once filled.

His eyes followed it lazily, watching as the sunlight shone through brokenly, curving and zigzagging through the stone. Finally, he swung it harder than before and it wrapped around his outstretched hand multiple times before the string ran out of line and the stone slapped to his palm with a dull thwack. His palm closed into a fist and he brought that fist to his lips. After kissing his hand he moved it up and rested his forehead against it, feeling the onslaught of distress threatening to overthrow his emotional barriers.

His lips moved without a sound, a silent word passing from his mouth to the wind. A single droplet of moisture traveled down his rugged and scraggly cheek, getting caught in the rough, blonde stubble lining his jaw. He didn’t move to wipe his cheek. Instead, his body gave a shudder and more tears slipped from his hard eyes. His hazel eyes unleashed the torrent that had been held back for ages like a dam finally crumbling under the pressure of the river behind it.

The Vagabond stayed in that spot until the moon was high. Finally, he resolved to look into the sky and watched as a shooting star crossed the blackness of the infinity. He did not see it, but soon his eyelids drooped and he fell into a fitful slumber.