Cecil had scarcely nodded off when he was jarred awake by the acute snapping of a twig and an utterance of surprise by Rydia. Frantically, he scuttled for his sword, but his muscles relaxed when he saw the girl splayed out on the ground, their scant pile of kindling scattered all about. It appeared she had only tripped.
“I didn’t mean to wake you!” she exclaimed when she saw him sitting up, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.
The Dark Knight shook his head slowly and ran a hand through his hair, fighting off fatigue “, no, it’s all right. We’ve already wasted a full day. I cannot afford to sleep any longer; Rosa’s life depends on it.”
Rydia walked toward him and took one of his hands in both of her tiny ones “, then let’s go. I’ve already put away most everything except the tent.”
He blinked at her a few times, surprised by her maturity, then nodded and stood, blinking into the early morning sunlight.
The pair set out again soon after, Rydia insisting that she walk on her own. Cecil agreed only because of how cool it was, and because there was no longer any sand to encumber her. When she asked if she could carry some equipment, however, he told her no; he needed to move quickly, for Rosa’s sake.
Once they entered the cavern, Cecil found the floor to be slick with water. It seemed that the cavern was the home of a massive underground lake that plummeted deep into the earth. Now the two of them stood at the top of a well-worn path that descended into the deep darkness of the Earth herself.
Cecil’s eyes were quick to adjust to the poor lighting (as they always had. The knight thought he saw better in the dark sometimes.), and when he looked down at Rydia he was surprised to see her cupping a ball of glowing blue energy in her hands that crackled and zipped with tension.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I can help us see with this!”
The look on her face was proud, and Cecil chuckled, for a moment forgetting his worries and fears. Then he shook his head, “can you hold it up higher, please?”
Rydia nodded her head, but the light wasn’t very bright, and what little illumination it did provide was more of a hindrance than a help, as it caused Cecil’s eyes to no longer be adjusted. Still, for a child to be able to conjure an unwavering light … Cecil was no magician, but he thought that it might be unusual.
“Put it away and take my hand, Rydia,” he commanded after a moment of contemplating their choices. “Conserve your energies for more important things.” When she hesitated he smiled reassuringly at her. “We won’t fall. I can see in the dark.”
Nodding as if it were of the utmost importance, Rydia made the light disappear and then fumbled for his hand. Cecil stilled her gropes when he reached backwards with his left hand it took it for himself “, don’t be afraid. Just trust me and we’ll be fine.”
He led them down into the darkness, guiding the girl, whose steps became only a little surer as time went on. Cecil could not be sure how long they traveled through the gloom, but he felt Rydia shivering beside him. He could sense her fear of the inky darkness and what lurked there, feel the rise of the goose bumps on her skin from the cold that had began to penetrate her scant clothing, and hear the chattering of her teeth as she clambered, half blind, through the shadows.
Cecil himself stepped confidently through the pitch black cave, though the footing was unsure. He could hear the distant rushing of water; smell the scent of limestone and the more distant scent of most earth. He could see the details of the stone of the guide wall they walked along. Yet the cold could not hinder him. He did feel it bite at his skin, though it grew colder still as they descended further and further into the bowels of the earth, underneath the Damcyan Mountain Range.
After awhile in the shadows, Cecil saw a glow, and as they grew nearer he could detect the tell-tale wavering that identified it as the glow of fire. As they neared the source, Cecil saw the silhouette of what appeared to be a male form crouched upon a boulder. Rydia grew closer to him, clearly not fond of the idea that they would find someone else this deep underground, which became even more certain when he caught her frightened green eyes and held them.
“Trust me,” he whispered, squeezing her hand as they stepped into the circle of protective light, and into the line of sight of the man upon the rock.
He was an unremarkable looking elderly man, snoozing unobtrusively while sitting crossed legged atop a squat boulder, apparent by a sudden snort, made thunderous in the cavern. His face was lost in a sea of chaotic white hair, accompanied by a beard long enough that it touched the tips of his knees from where his head fell. His spectacles shone in the torchlight like two, blue coins, and the color of his long coat was the same pink of the cheeks of a blushing woman. The color stood out against the blue darkness of the cavern.
Cecil took another step toward him, but tensed when he felt the air draw up around him, filling itself with the static of Magic. With the reflexes of someone who was at the peak of his physicality, Cecil drew his sword and slashed downward, summoning the darkness. It met the nearly formed shot of freezing Magic in midair, creating a flash so bright that it momentarily blinded the Dark Knight.
When the light faded, Cecil was staring at the standing form of the squat old man, who was leaning on his gnarled oaken staff. He had a thoughtful frown upon his face and stroked his chin carefully ", so you're a
Dark Knight."
"And you're a Magi," replied Cecil, sheathing his sword and giving the man a bland look
"Don't be smart with me," snapped the man in his gravely voice. "I could use your help, and you, if I'm not mistaken, could use mine."
"Who are you?" demanded the Dark Knight, his stance suddenly defensive as he felt the drip of blood down his abdomen from his attack.
"That depends upon whom you ask," said the man, stepping forward. "Some say I'm a washed up old hat. Others say that I'm a Master of Magic. You, youngling, may call me Sage Tellah. Now, who are you? And what are you doing bringing your daughter into such a place?" the old man motioned to the rock he'd been sitting on only a moment before. "Sit down and let me see your ankle."
"What? No! Rydia is not my daughter!" Cecil protested.
The old man grabbed his arm and pushed him onto the boulder he had risen from only moments before, forcing him to sit. He then proceeded to snatch his ankle, examining it. "You're right. She's a Conjurer; clearly not related to you. Your Magics are completely different, although-" he paused and twisted Cecil's ankle around painfully. "Hm. Yes. I do sense a hint of the Divine about you. Tell me; were either one of your parents a Priest or Priestess in a religious order?"
"Divine? Priest in a religious order?" Cecil gasped as the man pulled on his ankle. "Stop that!"
"Respect your elder's boy!" the man held out his hand, fingers out spread over Cecil's ankle. "No, you don't know your parents. If you did, you would have been quicker to answer my question." He paused thoughtfully. "What was your name again?"
"I am called Cecil, but-" he ceased speaking as a feeling like a million pinpricks penetrated his leg and washed over his body in steady pulsations, though it was concentrated in his ankle.
"Hm. Blind one? Fascinating." The old man backed away, patting Cecil's ankle proudly; the feeling in Cecil's body subsided. "I wonder what your namers were thinking when they named you?"
"I was told I was named for my mother, in all likelihood," said Cecil, flexing his ankle and finding that no pain lingered there. "At least, the assumption is that Lady Cecilia Highwind was my mother."
"Highwind? Of the Baron Dragon Knights?" Ah, so you hail from Baron," his eyes narrowed as he looked the Dark Knight up and down. "Yes, there is a bit of Baroni in you features. Strong nose, bright eyes. The rest of you is purely divine, however. You don't have features like that and not have one of the Gods in your family tree somewhere."
"I'm sorry, but there must be a mistake. I am only a man."
The Sage Tellah snorted ", who did they tell you your father was, boy? A Baigan? A Monroe? A Johanson? What surname do you claim as your own?"
Cecil looked away form Tellah, hesitant to answer. Most people outside of Baron did not know the surname of the Royal Clan. This old man, however, was clearly not a commoner. In fact, if Cecil had to hazard a guess, he would guess that the man was from Mysida and had received commendations from the Brethian Order. At last, he answered ", Harvey. I am called Cecil Harvey."
"You're the orphan whelp of Baron? The princeling?" the man raised his bushy eyebrows. "I thought they kept the princeling locked away ever since he was captured by Troians. Quit pulling my leg!"
"I am not lying," he said, mildly offended. "I am not Baron's princeling, however. I never have been, and I certainly never will be." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I find it troubling, the number of misconceptions there are about me outside of Baron."
"If you are not the princeling, then what are you?" the man sniffed.
Impatience tingled down Cecil's spine ", a Dark Knight whose time you are wasting with idle chatter. I am trying to save the life of a dear friend and you are in the way."
"Ah, that brings me back to the point," Tellah crossed his arms over his chest assertively. "I could use your help, as well as the help of the girl, in defeating the beast that has made its home in this cave. I, too, need to reach Damcyan. My daughter's welfare depends upon it."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Cecil asked, grabbing Rydia's hand once more and pushing onward through
the gloom. "I've not a moment to waste. Time is of the essence."
"Indeed it is," asserted Tellah, scrambling after the Dark Knight, his oaken staff clicking against the rocks at a vigorous pace.
Cecil looked back, and then shook his head, pausing long enough for the man to catch up before the three companions plunged further into the darkness.
XXX
The Man of Darkness stepped down the hallways of Castle Baron, his feet bringing him to the top of the Northwest Tower, which had previously been inhabited by the man he now considered his enemy.
He placed his hand upon the oaken door, something at the back mind causing him to hesitate for the briefest of moments, but the fleeting second passed as iron claws once again enclosed themselves about his soul. It is nothing, he told himself, his billowing cape blown back as he flung the door open. It is only my imagination. This is nothing; only a gnat would dare oppose me, thinking more of its significance than it should.
He had made the trek here, despite his time restraints, because he wanted to know more about the man who stood against him. His new favorite pawn would divulge nothing more than words of hatred and bitterness. Others gave him even less, no matter is methods of persuasion he used. Thus Golbez had come, to the room of his enemy, that he may know the other's mind; surely he could not be a complicated man.
Golbez came first to the wardrobe, thrusting open the heavy doors and staring at its contents. Cecil Harvey, for all the pomp behind his title, had inexpensive, study clothing that suggested the humility of someone of a lower station. He owned only two, good, court worthy doublets, and one pair of good pants (though his military uniform was suspiciously missing). The rest of his clothing consisted of plain wool shirts of coarse weave that could not be very comfortable, and assorted leather armor that Golbez could only assume would provide protection on hunting trips. The most colorful pieces of clothing (beside for his dress doublets) were several solid colored bandanas that the Knight likely used to tie back his hair.
Finding nothing of interest in the wardrobe, Golbez turned to the small bed, which was an uncomfortable military issue cot. This suggested that the man was loathe of his position, or at least felt guilty because of it, being an orphan (as Golbez had gathered). Not a very prideful man himself when it came to the performance of menial tasks, the Dark Lord kneeled down and peered underneath the bed, finding a heavy, wooden box, sealed with an iron lock.
He pulled it from its hiding place, finding that the lock was already broken, making his job easier. Curiosity piqued, he opened the lid and found inside what he had been looking for all the long.
Within this box the Dark Knight kept his most precious memories. There were several carefully folded letters written on yellowed parchment, a girl's hair pin, long and silver, and an eclectic set of trinkets that ranged from a rusty thimble to a broken socket wrench. The Dark Lord removed a piece of parchment from its place and began to read; convinced he could find some fatal weakness that the young Knight possessed in its contents.
The writing upon the paper was neat and small, clearly masculine, though there were sketched in the margins very skillful observational drawings of fields and animals. It spoke of how Cecil was missed in Necrograd by everyone, and that he should come to visit in those airships of his. Golbez continued to read, deciding there was no information to gleaned from it. Boredly, he riffled through he other letters in a similar manner, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached something interesting.
It was the soft, curving handwriting of a young woman, but was somewhat sloppy, as if she'd been frantically scrawling it across the paper in a fit of intense emotion.
'Cecil, why won't you respond?!' It read. 'Kain and I miss you so! Please, Cecil, I'm so worried! I don't even know if you're still alive!'
After reading several more letters in the same stack, it became apparent to him what had happened; but only after what he remembered what Baigan had said of the boy and the Dark Blade. Cecil Harvey had suffered a Dark Taint so severe that he'd emotionally damaged himself beyond repair. It was doubtful that he would have been able to make new emotional connections for quite awhile after coming in contact with the sword, let alone remember his old ones. That he'd kept this letters meant that the girl must mean a great deal to him, for he had kept them, even through his brokenness. Of course, he would eventually remember his emotional bonds and be able to form them once more, but he would never quite be emotionally whole; he would never look at himself or the world the same way again. Golbez understood the Darkness very well, being of it.
Cecil Harvey was in love with this woman, this Rosa Farrell, and love was a most effective double edged blade.
Rosa was Cecil Harvey's weakness, and, as he recalled after another long moment, another Knight's as well.
Smiling satisfactorily to himself, the Dark Lord replaced the box and its contents and drifted down the stairs to sow the seeds of Cecil's destruction.
XXX
" - and that's why I must go to Damcyan," concluded Tellah.
Cecil was not really paying attention to the man; he was much too busy trying to find his way out of this cave to pay heed to Tellah's inane chatter. However, considering this was about the fifth time Tellah had told the story (he alternated between and stories about his daughter's childhood), Cecil had managed to pick up that Tellah believed a bard to be guilty of seducing his daughter and spiriting her away to Damcyan. In Cecil's experience, that was more likely the kind of thing that a Troian woman would do, or perhaps a particularly well dressed merchant, but bards were generally too wrapped up in their own music to be aware of much else.
Pivoting on his heel, Cecil, who was leading the way, reached out and pulled Tellah (and thus Rydia, who had taken to the old man and was holding his hand) behind him. Holding the sleeve of his jacket to stop him from galling into the shallow pool just below the path, Cecil had to use the left side of his body to block the lashing blow of the beast's tail. Unarmored, the thick, barbed tail left three deep gashes on his left arm, but in the heat of battle, all his sense sharp, he barely felt the sting of the blow. Releasing Tellah, he drew his sword, rushing forward while remaining wary of the footing; Cecil parried another blow from the tail of the great, scaly beast.
He dodged right as the clamp like jaws of the long, flat creature shot out at him, ruby red eyes glinting with hunger. Whipping out with his blade, Cecil cut the monster across its soft stomach, but it was resilient and lunged forward, thought its innards were spilling out. Cecil hissed, prepared to feel himself crushed between the jaws, but a flash of light struck the beast between the eyes, sending it, writhing, into the water.
Cecil turned to see Tellah, staff raised above his head, staring at the area where the beast had been only moments before. Suddenly, Cecil felt acute, stinging pain rush to his left side, all too aware of the three, horizontal cuts a long his arm. Hissing in pain, he stumbled forward, but didn't make it far before Rydia rushed to him, faltering a bit on the wet stones, but holding out her hand over his arms ", Cecil , let me help you."
Warmth rushed to his limb, strangely isolated in his arm. It was not like Tellah's tense energy, nor Rosa's naturally warm energy, but was very soft, and reminded him of the dappled sunlight that fought its way through the tree tops. Staring at the wounds, they seemed to evaporate into nothing, and he marveled as not even scars remained; Cecil supposed he was used to Dark Tainted wounds.
"It seems I'm always wounded now days," Cecil said lightly, trying to reassure Rydia. "Thank you. Both of you. I would have been part of that creature's diet if you hadn't offered your assistance."
Tellah sniffed, but his stance suggested he was proud ", let's get going. There's a chamber up ahead that it oft used for camping. I don't think any monsters will go near a place that is so filled with the scent of people."
Rydia took Cecil's hand this time as they pushed forward, Tellah leading the way boldly through the darkness; it was as if she were trying to reassure him. There was something that bothered Cecil about the attack, for this was a cave that saw frequented traffic, and such beasts were usually shy around humans.
Cecil suddenly felt as if there were something greater here than just Tellah's daughter in need. He wondered if the increased activities of the beasts were connected to the Crystals, but he quickly dismissed the idea when he was unable to come up with a reason for why that would be.
Discord is caused in the presence of Evil, said the voice within him, but he paid it no mind; it wasn't often that part of him had anything helpful to say.
The trio made it to the chamber without incident, and Cecil silently set up their camp while contemplating the breeze he felt drifting from further down the passageway. He hoped it meant they would be reaching the surface soon. While he could spend days underground without being terribly bothered, he worried for Rydia and Tellah, who were both vulnerable due to their ages. It would not do for either one of them to spend too much time underground.
They ate a bland meal of dry rations that did little to satisfy Cecil's hunger. Laying out the bed rolls, Cecil sat down and was soon aware of Rydia's soft breathing as he stared into the fire.
"It amazes me how quickly an exhausted child can fall asleep," said Tellah very softly. "She reminds me very much of my own Anna when she was a child."
Cecil glanced at him from the side, not responding; he was worried about Rosa. Every hour he wasted here was an hour that brought Rosa closer to death.
"Not very talkative, are you?" Tellah sighed, looking at the ceiling. "Ah to be a careless young pup again..."
"What manor of beast is it?" Cecil asked suddenly.
"Huh? What's that?" Tellah snapped his head toward Cecil, his eyes narrowed.
"The beast that's blocking the passage. What are we facing?" Cecil rephrased.
"Oh," Tellah paused. "A tentacled monster that is reportedly several stories tall. It-"
Cecil stood and began to shuffle through his pack, removing his mail shirt, his plate armor, and his helm. "Do you know how to work a clasp? It is difficult to put on the armor alone."
Tellah only stared at him, and it was Cecil found that it was his turn to sigh. 'I cannot fight a several story tall monster in my street clothing. I need you to help me with the clasps."
"You'll have to show me how," Tellah replied, and Cecil nodded, demonstrating how to fasten and unfasten the clasps.
"Practice while I put on my mail shirt."
Cecil removed his sword from his belt and placed it on the ground, dropping his own, heavy mail shirt over his head. It was something one of the novices would normally do, but all Knights had been in their novitiate at one point, and so they could all do it for themselves.
"You mentioned you were attempting to assist your friend," Tellah said conversationally.
"Rosa has fallen ill with desert fever," Cecil said, unable to keep his voice neutral. "I journey for The Sand Pearl, and Rydia is an orphan, and so she travels with me."
"And you truly are the Cecil Harvey who was raised by Baron's King?" Tellah asked as he helped Cecil battle with his breast plate.
"I am," Cecil replied. "Though I told you before that I am only a man. It does not matter."
They were silent as they worked to the rest of Cecil's armor one, other than Cecil's occasional instructions to the old mage. When it was finished, Cecil sat back down, though with some difficulty now that he was fully armored (he remembered how difficult that armor had been to move in when he first had earned it), and stared into the distance, his helm beside him.
"I am surprised that someone like you would choose the Dark Sword," Tellah commented after a very long silence; obviously, he was unable to sleep until he spoke what was on his mind. "You may have Darkness in your soul, but your soul itself is not Dark. As I said before, you have a hint of the divine about you. The Darkness doesn't strike me as the path someone like you would take."
"I did not choose the Sword," Cecil responded with a note of finality ", the Sword chose me."
This statement hung in the air until long after their campfire had died.
XXX
The next morning came silently.
Cecil woke after a brief rest, packed up what he could of their campsite, and woke his companions. After a small meal comprised of more rations, they headed out, Cecil's armor striking against the stone of the ground and echoing throughout the expanse of the cavern. A few hours of walking saw the companions stumble into the light, fresh air rushing to meet their faces. Rydia, her eyes quick to adjust to the sunlight, rushed forward into a lush valley that was just the sort of idyllic place one would expect this far away from civilization. Cecil followed her, removing his helm and falling to his knees by a nearby stream, casting aside his gauntlets and helm to splash cool water on his face. He had not been sleeping well or often, and it was starting to grate upon him, though Cecil knew his body would not fail; he had suffered worse at the hands of the Troian militants five years ago.
"We should take a short break," Tellah suggested form behind him. "I think you need it, lad."
As much as Cecil would have liked to protest, he thought it might be nice for Rydia to be able to rest for awhile before delving back into the underground. They would walk the mile across the valley in only a short while, so he supposed it would not hurt to rest for about half an hour.
"I agree," Cecil said, watching as Rydia ran through the flowers nearby, laughing; it made him feel very much at peace.
Tellah sat beside him ", you carry quite the burden on your shoulders, don't you? You carry yourself like a seasoned war veteran, not a youthful Knight."
Cecil stared at Tellah for a long moment before choosing to answer ", in Baron, most young people have been serving their country in some capacity for two years by the time they are my age. I have been serving for four. Such is the case with most Dark Knights."
Tellah chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip for a moment, then he spoke ", at first I wasn't sure I would like you. You're a bit sullen, and you're angry." Cecil was about to protest, but the old mage held up a finger to silence him. "But I can see in you a light unlike any other. It's as if you're the reflection of Gaelach himself. Ultimately, I think you and I could become great allies."
Cecil looked at Tellah, recalling Maude's words. "I am no godling, Tellah, but I will do what you ask. I can tell you care deeply for your daughter, and I do not want you to loose someone who means so much to you; not when I know the pain of loss so sharply."
Tellah stared at him, as if he wanted to say something, but then shook his head and joined Cecil in watching Rydia.
They left only a little while later, Cecil invigorated with his promise to Tellah, and more determined than ever to save Rosa. Together the three companions made their way underground once more, but were soon hindered by the rushing of an underground waterfall.
"The creature should be at the bottom, but it appears the path downward has collapsed,” observed Tellah.
"What do we do?" Rydia asked looking expectantly up at Cecil; Tellah, too, was looking to Cecil for direction.
"It appears we must jump," replied the Dark Knight. "I don't believe the drop will be fatal."
Rydia steeled her jaw ", then let's go. We have to save Rosa and Tellah's daughter."
Tellah stared at her admiringly, nodded, and stepped into the shallow pool, allowing himself to be carried away by the roaring currents. Rydia cast Cecil a nervous glace, gulped, and then followed the old magi's example. Without another thought otherwise, Cecil himself stepped off of the ledge. Cool air rushed up to meet him, and he adjusted his body mid-flight so that he would not break every bone in his body upon impact with the water below. Luckily enough, the water wasn't terribly deep or terribly shallow, and Cecil was able to surface and stand up after he had hit the waves below.
"Let's head this way," Tellah replied once he had resurfaced. "I want to get this over with."
Nodding silently, Cecil removed his helm, feeling that he had water in his armor, weighing him down ', yes, though we may be hindered by the- Wait, Rydia! Rydia, where are you?!" He suddenly called, frantically, fearing for the little girl's safety.
"Here!" called a small voice, and the two men looked up to see Rydia sitting atop a large rock, waving wildly at them. "I found a path!"
At turtle's pace, Cecil sloshed his way through the chest deep (on him, in any case. The water, at over five feet, made it all the way up to his meager 5'10" chest, short, for a man with the blood of a Baroni noble.) water to the girl, hoisting himself, and then Tellah, up onto the rock.
"Excellent work, girl!" commended the mage, his beard dripping with water: Rydia smiled.
Cecil, sitting on the rock, removed his gauntlets leg plates, sighing as the cumbersome water was released from its metallic prison. Quickly but efficiently, he replaced the armor and stood ", we can't be far off from the exit now. It's best we just follow this pathway."
Again, the companions set out, finding a light bright enough to be the rays of the sun originating form a single point after they had traveled for only a few hours. Cecil felt his muscles tense in ridged anticipation of a fight as they came to the end of the path. He stopped short of the edge, but Tellah strode forward, into the water, prompting a fat, yellow tentacle to raise form the depths, dancing like a snake about to attack.
Cecil launched himself from the top of the rock, battle instinct flaring. He barely felt his own weight as he flew through the air and landed with a splash in the shallows, drawing his sword. He parried the blow of the tentacle that had been about to strike Tellah, though he had some difficulty planting his feet in the water.
He heard Rydia's splash into the water, causing him to spin around. "No! Stay there! Cast from a distance!"
Her green eyes widened at his half-barked order, but she obeyed nonetheless.
He then turned to Tellah. "Get back, now!"
He didn't look to see if Tellah had obeyed. Instead, he turned, replacing his visor and mouth guard as the beast rose form the depths, its eyes glowing white as it grinned a cait sith's smile. With it rose eight, sleek tentacles, each posing its own deadly threat, though Cecil deduced its gigantic head was its weak point.
"Tellah! Thunder spells aimed at the head! Rydia!" he ordered in true military fashion. "Healing! I will distract the beast!"
Perceiving him, its previous attacker, as the greatest threat, three tentacles shot out at him, one from the left, another from the right, and the last from above. Stepping backwards with a few quick back steps, two of the tentacles slammed into one another at full speed. The other adjusted its trajectory and made its way for Cecil's head. Cecil pivoted as it dove downward, narrowly missing his chest by a margin of feet. Wiping his blade, the Dark Knight briefly felt the resistance of flesh, but no bone made his sword slide through the limb as if it were made of no more than warm lard.
An earsplitting shriek emanated from the great beast as it withdrew its arm, its dark green blood pooling beneath the water. Furious, it attacked with five of its remaining arms. Concentrating, Cecil moved to dodge each tentacle. One was nearly victorious in pummeling him when he made a near-fatal miscalculation. However, he was able to correct at the last second and jump away, landing in a crouched position in the water.
Glancing upward sharply when he heard the rumble of thunder, the young Knight saw that Tellah had somehow conjured a storm inside the cave. Its dark clouds turned the water green as gale forced wind caused it to throw itself against the beast, battering the creature, who roared in sudden confused fury, turning its attention toward Rydia.
Allowing Darkness to saturate his limbs, Cecil threw himself in the way of the attack, blocking the three tentacles with his sword. He was only able to stave off the strength of the monstrosity because of the Darkness that churned through him, sinking deep in his stomach. He could feel blood dripping down his shoulder blades, down his abdomen, and down his arms as he made a grunt of exertion, flinging the tentacles away with a display of god-like strength.
Just in time, Tellah's cloud burst, a great flash of blue momentarily blinding the Dark Knight as the sound of a terrible shriek filled the cavern, deafening him. Soon, the noise turned into a soft wail before it petered into nothing all together, leaving Cecil with the smell of burnt fish filling his nostrils.
Once more, Rydia's soothing Magic rushed over his muscles and his wounds evaporated into nothing. Tellah made his way toward Cecil and offered him a hand. "You've won my respect, young man. I've never seen such a display of swordsmanship in all of my life, and I've met some impressive men."
Cecil took the hand offered, though he assisted Tellah a bit in hoisting him to his feet. "I've not seen a spell that powerful since I was last in Mysidia during the Lunar Festival. I believe I was ten years old, at the time."
"To be honest, I was lucky to recall the spell," Tellah held out his hand to Rydia. "Let's get out of here. Anna and Cecil's Lady await."
They made their way around the deep water the monster had clipped into, dead, and out into a wave of heat that Cecil knew very well was not the worst of the desert day. Looking toward the twilight sky, Cecil saw something that made his blood run cold.
Smoke.
"No!" Setting off at full speed up a sandy incline, he cast his helmet and gauntlets to the ground.
In the sky hung a formation he knew all too well, having been one of its advocates, from a tactical standpoint. Flying toward him were five dark shapes that became clearly defined as airships as they moved nearer.
When the roar of propellers at last filled his ears, he tore his eyes form the blood red airships and out into the desert, where the tell-tale orange red glow of a Red Wing's fire bombing hung on the horizon.
Safrom was burning.
He was too late.
Baron had Damcyan's Crystal.
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