Ch11-9: Trust... Focus... Balance...
Kain’s feet slipped, fighting to hold his ground as Luccious bore down on him relentlessly. Then with a back-handed slash of the long sword, the weapons disengaged. Kain was thrown back. A shower of blood followed as the dark blade skimmed along the Dragoon’s cheek, slitting it wide open.
Edge gave a throaty war cry, lunging past the Dragoon. In a twisting blur of steel, he cycloned down the full length of the Dark Sygnus’ thin blade. Luccious matched the Ninja’s speed blow for blow, the sharp silver eyes seeming to always know where his opponent was going to strike next.
Rydia helped Kain get to his feet while Rosa pressed wrappings and white magic against the long gash along his cheek. The Dragoon protested, eyes flicking back to the fight.
“I’m alright! Let me go!”
“Kain! Hold still! Please?” Rydia protested right back, gripping his arm.
Rosa’s voice was concerned as she pulled her hand back, “The wound is not responding to my healing.”
“What?” the Caller’s face grew troubled. Then she turned with a frightened gazed, watching the Ninja’s frenzied attack against the Dark Sygnus. “Edge!! Edge, please… pull back!”
The Ninja dodged under the sweep of Luccious’ next strike. His grey eyes flicked back at the pleading girl, then with a hiss he disengaged, flipping back out of the fight. But the Dark Sygnus wouldn’t let it happen. He followed Edge’s retreat with fierce bladestrokes that left sparks along the moon-stone floor.
“Shit!” Edge snarled, bounding and dodging blow after blow.
A flash of energy crackled through the air as a fiery nova opened up, right in front of Luccious. Rydia’s face shone in determination and concentration, her hands wide open, the flare expanding to envelope the tall winged man’s form.
Though it didn’t stop the Dark Sygnus’ approach, it slowed him enough for Edge to make a clean break away. And drew Luccious’ attention on the young Caller girl.
Cecil’s thoughts grew frantic. -That’s enough! We can’t let this keep going! He’s going to hurt someone!-
His hand tightened around the grip of the strange Sygnus blade. Though Ben had never used the sword before, somehow it felt right. As if it had been made for just this purpose. Yet, doubt welled in him. Despite the fact that he carried Onyx, Ben had never been very good in handling a weapon. Especially a sword.
But…
As his doubts took control, his grip on the blade weakened.
– We have Sygnus! We’ve got to stop this!-
I don’t know how to…
A strength born of a fighter’s determination flooded his senses, overriding his doubt.
-But I do! Let me fight!-
It might have been the one of the hardest things Ben ever had to do. To take a mental step back. To release all control. To completely and absolutely trust another — even if that other was is brother, Cecil.
Then Sygnus was in motion. Dark-tipped wings spread wide as the blade lifted, glinting in the final sparks of Rydia’s flare. He sped forward like it weighed nothing — not the sword nor the armor, the wings, or even himself. His motion was pure and measured, an ancient strength rousing and flowing through him.
As Sygnus advanced, the silver mists parted, burned away by the soft light of the dual-toned blade. Luccious turned to meet the stroke with a curled-lip scowl. Multi-colored sparks sprayed as the swords met, deflected and struck again. This time, when Luccious slammed his strength forward, Sygnus met the force with equal strength.
Irritation marred the silver-haired man’s smooth features. His lips drew back in a soundless snarl. He pressed forward again. And again, the Sygnus met with equal skill.
“You cannot hope to win,” Luccious hissed as their blades folded along the flat. “You may think you are a Sygnus… but you are still just two separate parts. You are weak in your divided minds.”
Cecil! Watch out!
Ben felt the pull of power only moments before the silver-haired man lifted one hand. In a split instant, Luccious drew in the silver mists and released them in a freezing blast of spectral energy. A howling wind of death and torment swept over Sygnus, driving him back under waves of fury and pain. Instinctively, he threw up his black-tipped wings, shielding himself.
That’s when Ben heard the sound. A soft, familiar voice carried upon the spirit wind. Sygnus’ eyes opened, glowing deep electric green, as he searched the silver torrent that whipped around him.
-Golbez! What are you doing?- Cecil’s battle concentration was broken.
I heard her! I heard Joran! She’s here somewhere, Cecil!
-That’s impossible! She’s—
Sygnus’ eyes narrowed. Realization.
She’s part of Luccious’ Mists!
The blade lifted again, this time, by Ben’s will.
-What? What are you talking about?-
Sygnus pushed forward, striving against the silver mist. He began to see it … the spectral forms that were contained within the wind. The spirits that Luccious commanded, spirits who had been drawn and absorbed into the Dark Sygnus’ power.
It was beginning to make sense now.
Luccious didn’t need Incrytan to release him. He needed spirit energy!
-I don’t understand! What are you talking about?-
The stories say that the Dark Sygnus gained power through death. He fed off the souls of those who died around him. So when Joran died… he…
There was a moment of chilled silence and understanding behind Sygnus’ glittering eyes.
I’ve got to free Joran.
-Golbez! We have to fight Luccious!-
His hand tightened on the grip of the blade once again.
No! You don’t understand. I can’t leave her trapped like this… not after she sacrificed herself for me!
-I know she did but…-
Internal conflict. Sygnus began to slip back, losing his grip against the howling winds.
Luccious still may not be as stable as he wants us to think. If we can release her, and his energies are hinged around her… we may have a way of weakening him. If only for a short time.
One step forward. Wavering trust.
Please Cecil. I think I understand now.
The Paladin’s thoughts were silent.
We have to do this together. I trust you in tactics and battle. You have to trust me with theory and magic.
It was slow, but the reply came. …Alright, Golbez. I trust you. Let’s do what we have to do.-
As the thought rippled between them, something happened. Cecil’s thoughts. Voice. Presence. His very essence faded. Blending. Fusing into Ben’s own. Boundaries between them melted away.
Trust.
Focus.
Balance.
There was a sudden rush of strength and clarity. Knowledge and insight. Flows of soft light and shadow began to expand, condensing around the silver winds. Containing them. Drawing them away from Luccious.
Somewhere within, he could feel her. Joran. And he knew she was reaching for him.
Feathers glittering dark and light, the Sygnus spread his wings. Thrusting one hand into the silver mists, he reached for her, too.
He knew there wasn’t much time. Luccious would be quick in figuring out what he was trying to do. But that’s when he realized that the winds had begun to subside. And not all of it was due to Sygnus’ will.
“Luuuuucci!”
The sound of Sparrow’s voice was distorted and distant through the flow of spiritlight. But it was there. The dark-winged girl was still trying. Still reaching, as well.
And despite the chaos that raged around the silver haired man, Sygnus could feel the connection between them. Something very deep and very old. Something that seemed to be pulling on the Dark Sygnus’ focus, causing him to falter.
Within the eye of the storm, Sygnus reached with a longing. Bit by bit he began to piece together the essence of Joran and pull her from the swirling mists. To release her. Free her.
Luccious’s silver eyes locked upon him. Realizing. Knowing what his enemy was attempting to do. With a feral screech of madness, he broke away from Sparrow’s voice, charging at the Sygnus with his blade point leveled.
“Cecil!!” shouts rang across the room in alarm.
But the Sygnus did not move. Did not look up. Did not flinch. His concentration was bent fully on the presence of the soul that he sought to free … if he could not save her in life, he would not allow her to be lost to the void of darkness beyond.
Sygnus hardly felt it as the long, slender blade burst through his wing. His feathers scattered, charring away where the silver light flamed.
But the Dark Sygnus was stumbling. Dissolving in madness and pulled apart by the call of the young girl’s longing. Luccious’ strike was disoriented. The swordstorke that had meant to skewer merely burned through the dark-tipped wing and grazed his enemy’s side.
Blood spattered across the stone floor, yet Sygnus remained unmoved. One hand was stretched up towards the streams of silver that met and mingled within shadow and illumination.
Luccious’ body lurched, smoking as the mist was ripped from his form. Then the Dark Sygnus gave a tormented cry, stumbling back. Writhing. His grip on the blade lost. Silver feathers rained down, vanishing as they touched the ground.
A sound like distant harmonies resounded within the chamber as the silver light became whole. Its color changed, a spirit becoming vibrant and aware. Breaking free from the Mists.
“Joran…” her name was seeped in sorrow. Sygnus’ hand was still outstretched.
She hovered for a moment, just out of reach of his fingertips. As if offering a last encouragement. A last good bye. Then in a brilliant shaft of light, the spirit shot upwards, streaming away, leaving only the distant sound of melody within his mind.
The silence was broken by the sound of heavy breathing and the scrape of metal along the floor. Luccious was struggling to get to his feet, his hand wrapped around the bloody hilt of his blade. His expression seethed in suffering. The Mists churned around him in absolute discord, swinging out of the Dark Sygnus’ control with the loss of focus.
Silver feathers shook free with each jerky motion he made. His wings had a washed-out almost transparent quality about them. Any power that Luccious had won from Joran’s death had been stripped with her soul’s freedom.
Sygnus’ fingers tightened around the grip of his blade, the sword tip rising.
This creature that stood before him was the Dark Sygnus. The son of Zeromus. The Bane of the Old World and Slayer of the winged people of the Dreigiau. It was because of him that battles had been fought for Incrytan on the Blue Planet. It was because of him that Joran had been brought to the Red Moon to die.
Yet, there was hesitation.
Luccious’ voice was somber, “Why do you wait?”
Sygnus’ green eyes deepened, focusing on his enemy’s face. Something beyond the Mists spoke of a person that the Dark Sygnus had once been. The one that Sparrow called out to in desperate longing. A child’s tears for something dear that had been lost.
“Come…” as Luccious gathered his strength, there was something different within his expression. A sobering of the madness, if just for a rare moment. “Come, Sygnus.”
The words were soft and inviting. Suffering. Asking for the end of it all.
“Why?” Sygnus asked, not sure what part of this he was questioning.
“Please,” Luccious answered hoarsely. He spread his arms with slow deliberation, wings unfolding from behind. Baring his chest to the blade. His voice was hardly a whisper, “I did not want to become the Bane.”
In that moment of clarity, there was so much torment behind the silver eyes. So much that had been lost and distorted by the Chaotic energies. There was almost nothing left. Almost.
Nothing except for one final wish.
Numbness crept into the Sygnus’ mind, blotting away emotion. His wings unfolded. The blade lifted. Green eyes met silver. Sygnus lunged forward.
The Mists followed the motion of the sword as it plunged into the Dark Sygnus’ chest. An implosion. The spirit winds began to fold inward, gathering around the winged forms. Death drawn to the commander of the dead.
Luccious gave a choking gasp. His own dark blade clattered to the floor as he stared dully at the shaft of metal sticking from his chest. Then a pale-lipped smile bent his lips, voice rasping, “Thank you…”
Sygnus took a silent step back, pulling his blade free.
With a broken shout, a tiny dark form rushed past him. Sparrow’s arms reached up for the silver-haired man. In response, he dropped to his knees before her. Her slender arms wrapped around his neck as she sobbed into his shoulder. “Lucci! No!”
“Shh…. Shh…” he comforted quietly with a voice that had once been his own. The edge of his form was flaking away, dissolving into the streams of silver light that had begun to churn and froth around him. His fingertips were breaking into particles of light where he stroked the girl’s tears.
“Please! Please don’t go!” she begged. But already, she was having difficulty holding on to him.
His form was pulled into the Mists. Faster and faster. Floating off like dandelion feathers in the wind.
“Be good Suzume,” Luccious’ voice faded into the sway of the spirit light, his features losing solidity.
Sparrow’s mouth was open in a soundless cry. She fell forward on her palms as the last silver shimmers streamed out of her arms. Then the Mists vanished, leaving nothing but her broken sobs.