FFV: Toki no Hourousha (The Wanderer of Time)
Chapter 8: Broken Mirror

     In the midst of violent seas was an island in the Nazalea archipelago; it stood tall and menacing, with a fortress sprawling at its peak. Dark clouds roiled above the fortress, and from those clouds poured a torrent of rain and hail that fell with such force that contact would hurt the skin of a weathered seaman. One lone spirit drifted past the fortress's guards- big, deformed ogres whose pebbly grey skin seemed to withstand the onslaught of the storm with no ill effects- and it drifted past physical and magical barriers, almost amused at the creator's hindsight. Of course, he could not possibly expect to be visited by one who did not exist in this time. And because the laws of nature did not apply to this spiritual visitor, any barriers, traps, or warning systems did not acknowledge it.
     The interior was as bare as the visitor expected, for he had come to understand this fortress' creator far too well. This place mirrored the dark void that dwelled within the creator's soul, and it chilled him. Where had he gone wrong? What was it that turned Ahriman to hatred and evil while Ormazd became a benevolent, overly-nice young man?
     It was in a deep dungeon that he found Ahriman/Enuo and Azhi. Azhi was chained by the neck, naked, to the dungeon floor. Her body writhed in unbearable agony, skin boiling off to unveal shimmering grey and gold scales. She looked up with her one good eye penetrating into his soul, begging for pardon. Ridha, Zurvan- what he was now did not matter- stepped up to the tortured assassin and caressed her face. He could not override his son's powers that were now transforming Azhi into something she had no wish to be, but he could at least lessen her pain.
     You are pardoned, he whispered into her mind, and cut off all sensation her nerves could register for the moment. Relieved, she slumped forward. Already her hands took the shape of a dragon's claws and her legs continued shrinking while her sacrum and coccyx vertabrae unfused and multiplied to form a tail. In time she would become a Holy Dragon, Shinryuu, perfect in every way, and Ahriman was doing his best to make sure she was perfect: shaping her anatomy by hand. And he had just noticed Azhi's lack of response to his torture.
     "Who's there," the man snapped, hungry yellow eyes darting nervously around the room. His strawberry blonde hair was damp with his efforts, and it clung to his pasty skin in scraggly strands. Enuo bore all the signs of one drunk with the false promise of immortality the senescence treatments of Lonka offered. Ridha slipped behind he who would be... was... is... his son, and fully materialised.
     "Do you believe in vengeful ghosts," the magelord voiced, his eyes penetrating into the back of Enuo's head. The man turned in shock, and took a step back. "Believe in us, for we exist..."
     "Father, you... you're..."
     "...dead," Ridha finished, giving a humorless half-smile. His eyes bore into those of his son's as he presented a question.
     "Why are you tormenting Azhi?"
     Enuo glanced at the subject of his transforming magic, then at the massive robot that waited at the entrance of the dungeon, and finally back at the woman. "She failed in her task and refused to do as I asked. She will serve my purposes better when she's more obedient and powerful."
     "You want something to follow Omega on its path of destruction and to take your revenge on at the same time. You do not want to get your own hands bloody, so you shall have them wage war for you."
     Enuo glared at his father with a mixture of hatred and amusement in his eye. "Funny how you should know that much about me when you neglected me all my life."
     Something started within Ridha, and he spoke without thinking. "Could you be any more selfish, Ahri? I had to work with the Lonkans to make a better life for you and Ormazd. Neither of you deserved the life of barbarians. That was what Tycoon was when I ascended the throne, a barbarian kingdom just like every other country except for the Lonkan Republic. It was my deals with Lonka that elevated our country's living standards higher that the rest of the world. It was not out of hatred that I had to leave you and Ormazd to a nanny's hands."
     "That's what you say now," Enuo screamed. "Don't you remember the day you left us forever? You accused me of killing my own mother! It was your seed that killed her, not me!"
     The magelord was just as surprised as Enuo was when he drew his hand back and let a slap fall across his son's face. He stared at his own hand, horrified that he had reacted in such a way without thinking; and looked up at the darkmage, who stood laughing coldly.
     "I didn't think it was possible! After all these years, I've finally gotten a passionate response out of you! How does it feel to hurt someone? Gives you a thrill, doesn't it?"
     "Do not disgust me child, for I am not what you have beco-"
     "I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THIS WAY! YOU have never realised it!"
     Ridha turned away in disgust. He had come to this time to see what he had, -would-, do wrong, how Ormazd grew into what he was and Ahriman turned into his exact opposite. He had come trying to figure out his true purpose and place in the world, only knowing that he was responsible for fathering the monster that became Enuo, and the knowledge of his future only gnawed at him and would continue to do so until he found out why.
     The magelord returned his gaze to that which would become his son, his face harboring a strangely calm and peaceful expression. Its very presence served to unsettle the arrogant Enuo, who stepped away. He advanced upon the darkmage with unstoppable force, his own aura so violently overpowering the other's that Enuo fell back and grimaced as his back hit the cold granite floor.
     The darkmage felt a pounding force at his temples, and his vision faded in an explosion of fire-red light as all his mental barriers were ripped down and his very soul and all its secrets were exposed to his father's scrutiny. He tried to escape, tried to raise the barriers again, but it was no use, he was completely overpowered.
     He could feel his father smirk at his discomfort. //How does it feel to be in the same position you put so many of your victims in? You do not like it, do you?//
     //STOP IT,// he screamed as he struggled to escape Ridha's hold. //Why are you-//
     //I came here for a purpose, Ahriman. I came to see what drives you, to try and talk sense into you. With the way you are going now...//
     Ridha paused as he shifted through his son's memories, through his emotions and experiences, examining the very depths of his mind. His throat dried as he realised that there was nothing to save, nothing he could appeal to in any attempt to stop Enuo from his rampage. He was pure, unadulturated evil; he was driven by hatred for the world and by his own corruption. He had loved, once, but that too became sullied with his own nature. There was nothing worth saving...
     He withdrew his attack just as quickly as he lashed out and floated beside the monstrous robot that stood as a sentinel by the door. The gaze he gave Enuo was that of a man finally at peace with himself, and with it came a gentle half-smile. A simple plan had just come to his mind, and he decided it was time to carry it out.
     "I made... will make... the sacrifice of a thousand years to bring you to life. How ironic it is that the son of a Light Warrior would be the father of he who would bring the world to its death."
     "Father," Enuo queried weakly, still in shock at the force of the attack. "What do you mean..?"
     "Child, do you desire the power of the Void," Ridha offered suddenly, a corner of his lips twitching in an attempt to keep back an appreciative laugh at the delicious paradox. The son of a Light Warrior, the chosen Magelord and Hierophant to the Crystals of a thousand years in the future, handing the feared Enuo the power to destroy the world... and that power would become his own downfall. Only Ghido himself out of all his friends would appreciate such glorious contrariety; his mother, no doubt, would have his hide for a new sword scabbard's wrapping if she knew of this particular time-travel excursion.
     Enuo rose to his feet, and approached the magelord with a mix of confusion and nervous eagerness. "Yes, of course! I've been trying for as long as I can remember to-"
     "I know," the magelord stated, and the slight smile became one of the hunter luring his prey into a trap. "However, you must make a small sacrifice. Are you willing to give up the immortality I gifted you with?"
     There was a pause, and the air was thick with tension as the darkmage weighed his options carefully. And, finally, he gave his answer... a breathless "yes".
     Ridha left Omega's side and strode back in front of his son, locking eyes and hands with him. The energy of knowledge Enuo would need to access the Void flowed between them in a flurry of dark red- and black-toned æther, and it was slowly absorbed into the darkmage's being. When the last of the æther disappeared, Ridha stepped away and slowly dematerialised.
     "Now that you have the power of the Void, my son, nothing can stop you but your own mortality," the magelord voiced, giving the Omega weapon that Enuo had stolen from his brother a cursory glance. It must have taken clever stealth and quite a bit of reprogramming to have it recognize its new master, and Ridha was quite impressed with such a feat.
     "Wait, Father- how-"
     Ridha merely grinned as he slowly faded away. "This god works in mysterious ways."
     And then there was nothing where the former Zurvan once stood but empty air. Enuo stood once again before the unconscious Azhi, a gloatingly triumphant expression on his face. He now had the ability to take back what was his: the throne his brother stole from him.

      Yllesia gave a bored glance at her tarot cards, which lay in a cleanly placed stack on a mahogany table. She would have done a reading if someone would have agreed to it, but few seemed willing to be subjected to her whim. Just as well, really, as she made it a habit to tell the absolute truth as far as her readings were concerned... and many did not appreciate it.
     Back home, if she was bored all she had to do was summon a favorite maid to amuse herself with, but here she had to actually try and behave herself. More the pity, really... she had her eye on a certain pretty general who went by the pseudonym of Francois. And Francois was, apparently, the first female general Tycoon ever had.
     She leaned back into the padded back of her chair and toyed with a strand of spring-green hair, deep in thought. It was on a boring lonely night like this, two months ago, that they came: men and women, peasants and nobles- carrying everything from pitchforks to kitchen knives- screaming for her head. They broke through the wrought-iron gates of her cottage, and then beat down her door; took her children from her and dragged her off to the jail formed from what would have been the throne room of the new Castle Karnac. They dragged her through the streets in a criminal's carriage, and despite the produce and insults flung at her, she stood against it all with head held high in a noblewoman's instinctive pride, never breaking down to cry even in the privacy of her cell. Yet those insults haunted her even now...
     Hedonist, sinner... so many cruel, painful words directed to her... but what did she do to deserve it all? Was it a sin to follow one's heart, if that did not interfere with anyone else's life? She indulged in her own pleasures, true, but she was too shrewd to be easily swayed and manipulated into giving money and status to those that tried to be friendly for their own gain. Yllesia was nowhere near as indulgent as her father, who drove Karnac into debt once before with his expensive tastes and extravagant spending on people he thought were friends, and yet it was recently that the people rose against her family.
     Damn double standards, she thought. They never thought of rising against her father because he was male, they expected him to eventually come to his senses. And yet when she was proven a stern monarch that did not conform to the passive ideal they had, there was protest. The protests were confined to whispers in bars and dark alleys, but after the Crystal shattered and the economy collapsed they flared from tiny embers to roaring bonfires, blaming everything on her. It wouldn't have happened were she male.
     Stupid people.
     The Queen of Karnac rose from her chair and pulled away from the table and the cards that occupied it. La Tour Tombée: The Fallen Tower, that was the card she drew that one lazy night two months ago. Faintly she wondered if she would draw the same card again, and resisted the urge to find out, for she had another calling. The desire to pace overtook her, and she left her sleeping children to explore the dark and sleeping castle.
     There were no guards posted at the entrance to her apartment, just a tiny forcefield Ridha set up that only allowed for herself, her children, and a maid free passage. She wandered without direction through dark hallways and corridors lit only by sconces and the small voltive she absentmindedly brought along, feeling more complete roaming in the darkness of a castle than she had since Castle Karnac exploded in the Fire Crystal's wake. There was a certain simple pleasure walking with no fear of attack, with no one awake to interrupt her or distract her with petty government affairs. And it was just... peaceful.
     She stopped when she realised she was standing in front of the corridor that lead to Lenna's and Faris' apartments. Secretly she missed the young girl that would go to her for comfort and reassurance, who confided in her and took great pride in her ability to completely fool others with her mask of masculinity. The fifteen year old girl that had played the part of the queen's 'lover' better than the best of actors had now grown, and the flame that was her spirit diminished... became more self-confident somehow, more mature. Yllesia missed that child-woman and the hushed chats they once had that would last long into the night.
     Vaguely wondering if her friend was still awake, Yllesia padded softly with bare feet up the small flight of stairs that led to the apartment and cracked open the door after minor resistance from Ridha's forcefield. It was odd, she expected the door to be at least locked, and yet she entered the small common room of her friend's apartment and closed the heavy door behind her.
     The shapes of tiny treasures Faris had collected over the years were brought to her attention by the softly flickering gleam of her candle's flame. She had never been in he friend's apartment before, and took a moment to take it all in. There was a ship in a bottle perched on the mantle above a modest fireplace that looked to be a small replica of Faris's old flagship, a small pyramid of green glass that glowed softly in response to the candlelight, and a couple of spears (Gungnir and the Holy Lance, she remembered hearing Ridha drop mention of them somewhere before) crossed above the mantle with the dark helm of an ancient dragon knight ancestor mounted at the apex. Musty old texts stood untouched at a mahogany bookself, with the occasional seashell breaking the monotonous pattern of book-spines, and the long slender sword that had been Faris's companion during the the long quest against ExDeath stood propped up against the bookshelf. There was nothing in the room that was as expensive as some of the things Yllesia was known to get herself, but then wasn't she the one used to having money at her constant disposal?
     She tore herself from observing a few sketches by Benjiro and a letter that must have come recently and proceeded to the bedroom. There was something odd in the air, however, and the fact that there was no moonlight reflecting dully off the stone floor underneath the door made her wary of her intrusion. Yllesia backed away as quietly as she could, and took the closest weapon that came to her hand: an empty rum bottle sitting on the small table in the middle of the common room.
     The green-haired woman cracked open the door leading to her friend's bedroom with bottle ready to strike, and immediately regretted her lack of real combat training as her heart began to race.
     What hovered over the sleeping former pirate was not something that could be knocked unconscious with a hearty whack on the head. It had no corporeal form save for a fist-sized floating red ball, everything else was a black cloud. She cursed under her breath, ignoring the fact that it was unbecoming of a woman of her rank, and stepped forward. On a nearby shelf was a halved scallop shell, and she grabbed it, tossing it at the nebulous swirl of darkness. The shell grazed the top of the blood-red mass, and whether or not it made a lasting impression she wasn't sure. It just ignored her as a hunter would a tiny gnat and continued doing whatever it had been previously.
     "Mon chevalier!" Yllesia cried out, trying to wake the former pirate so she could deal with it herself. There was no response from the still form, and frustrated she left the voltive at the same shelf she found the scallop and ran close enough to the nebulous form to swing directly at the ball. The force of her blow knocked it and its accompanying cloud against the wall, causing a small sickeningly organic splat as it did so.
     Yllesia heard breathing then, it was so weak she wondered how close the thing had come to suffocating her friend to death. The purple-haired woman was far too pale for her liking, and without thinking to keep an eye on the enemy she rushed to shake her friend awake. There was a faint motion of the lips as Faris whispered her son's name and nothing more, for she lay completely unresponsive.
     The ruddy orb rose midair and hovered as its companion cloud swirled lazily around it, and with a flash the air around it condensed into a glowing lance of superheated, highly compressed energy. The Karnac queen's brown eyes widened in horror as she realised the lance was aimed at her, and flinched as it was launched-
     There was a hiss like that of fire being put out by a tide, shortly followed by the smell of heated sea-water, and Yllesia opened her eyes to a faint bluish-green curtain of light between herself and the intruder. Before she could even blink in astonishment, there was a cough and, whispered in that all too familiar voice that could often be confused as midrange between a tenor and a light baritone:
     "Thank whatever gods there are that Syldra's loyal even in death."
     She turned to look at her friend who graced her with a bemused, if weak, smile. When Faris's gaze shifted to meet that of a new intruder, her friend turned as well and sighed in relief as Ridha and Lenna appeared at the door.
     The magelord raised a hand that held a cluster of clouded quartz crystals, wrist bent so that the cluster was aimed directly at the deep red orb. There was a fire-red glow from the cluster's depths, and somehow the cloud of darkness condensed around its own center, forced into a restrictive space by the magelord's greater power. It struggled against its confines, and with each motion the space constricted in size.
     "I heard something crash and came running," Lenna said breathlessly as she brushed away a strand of pink hair that had fallen into her face in the rush. The younger of the sisters rubbed palms dampened with nervousness against her modest pale blue-green nightdress as she joined Yllesia by her sister's side. "Are you alright, big sister?"
     "Remember Catastophe, that big tentacled monster in the castle of Dimensions? I feel like I've been hit with one of those hundred-ton-weight spells and it wouldn't go away."
     A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Lenna's lips at this. "Well, at least there's nothing to follow up with that. I doubt we can repair any damage done by an earthquake spell without others raising questions."
     "Exactly, sis," Faris muttered as she sat up slowly. "Red, need any help with that?"
     The magelord did not take his eyes off his prisoner as he responded. His light tenor was weak and strained... he had expended too much of his energy previously that night, his body couldn't take much more. If he had rest he could seal the creature with no problem, but now...
     "Aunt Lenna, there are five negative-charge milky quartz crystals and a jar of salt in my room, I need them brought up here. The crystals should be set in a circle, each exactly equidistant from the other. Salt should be strewn in a circle that connects the crystals, another circle outside that one, and draw a pentagram with the crystals as anchorpoints, and this should be done somewhere close enough for me to move our friend into."
     The princess gave a nod and rushed out of the room to fetch the necessary equipment, with Yllesia following her to set up a small corner in the common room. Ridha turned his attention to the swirling mass of darkness, trying to penetrate its mental guards and keep it from acting at the same time. The clouded crystal cluster in his hand served as a dampener of sorts to muddle the creature's power while the clear jacinth stone around his neck intensified his own power. Normally he would not require such tools, but after his excursion to the past...
     "Dammit, don't strain yourself," Faris snapped, anger dancing in her eyes at the turn of events. She hated being woken from a pleasant dream, especially when what greeted her was an attack or crisis of some sort. "Use me as an anchor, you're about ready to collapse."
     "But-"
     "It wouldn't be the first time you'd pull off a stunt like that on me."
     A hesitant look crossed the magelord's tired features, and without even having to glance at his mother's face he realised that she was far too stubborn to let the situation drop. His eyes closed as he lost contact with his own body, his consciousness shifting to draw from the physical energy of a body much more rested than his own. It was strange having a healthy body that didn't threaten to break down at a moment's notice or could easily rid itself of even the most minute of microbes that usually threatened his health, and he wasn't planning to get used to it. He drew upon his mother's physical reserves to contain the creature while he blocked out his own senses one by one until the tapestry came before him, again. Beautiful silver threads stretched on for eternity against a backdrop of nothingness, woven together to represent the fate of the world and all that lived in it.
     He scanned it, trying to find the events of the present, trying to find what the intruder was and who sent it. Touching the right thread at the moment of the thing's capture brought forth flashes of panic and failed ambition, and a memory-image of a woman of pale skin offset sharply by a dress of the darkest black flickered briefly; perhaps it was the one who fed the creature the lies that sent it to try to eliminate the Light Warriors. He traced the thread backwards into the past, watched as it brought forth the dead on Caledonn Field, as it killed Mid and stole Cid's still-living brain, as the pale witch in her long dark dress visited its dreams and whispered promises of power, as it woke up from its long slumber as a small rag-tag group of four ran through its home and destroyed the teleportation mechanism in their hurry... as it was cornered into the quarantined Underwater Research Laboratory of Lonka and sealed, as it was born Aesma Daeva, spawned of Ahriman's evil...
     Aesma Daeva, demon of madness. It would call itself RaDevil in later years as it would follow its witch-guided delusions and attempt to become the Lonkan god of Death, Desgyunos. And the witch... All he could gather from the demon's memories were of a pale woman dressed in black, with cat-like green-gold eyes- everything else was a blur of white, black, and violet. And she had the faint smell of blood hovering over her, the blood of betrayal, and what he could see of her hands were stained a ruddy hue.
     Ridha searched for the witch herself, but there was nothing, no other traces of her existance but a flash in a demon's memory. Perhaps it was just a delusion created to justify its actions and nothing more. Partially satisfied with his findings, he drew away into the dark nothingness, opening his senses one by one until he found himself once again standing with the rough, rocky texture of a crystal-cluster's base pressed against the palm of his right hand, the sensation unhindered by the presense of the silk gloves he usually wore. He was still drawing upon his mother's energy, and glanced at her with an apologetic look in his eyes to which she gave a dismissive wave.
     "What'dya find?"
     The magelord cocked his head slightly as he tried to figure out a way to explain what he had seen. "A very old soul that has found itself in the wrong time. Its time to act will come eventually, but I have to seal it until then."
     "So it's just gonna try and kill me at a later date, correct?"
     "Somehow I doubt either of us will be alive in two hundred years, Mother," he said with a slight smile on his face. "It is a problem those of the future will have to deal with, not us."
     "I wish I had a gil for everyone who've said that," Faris muttered as she leaned back into the soft bed. "How often are things like that sealed only to be released or break free from such seals at a later date?"
     "I think it was Ghido who said that all seals are destined to break. These things happen... and besides, I shall set it back on its correct path in time. Something caused an interference with the timestream, although I am not yet sure what that interference was caused by."
     The queen sighed as she looked up at the pale painted images of ethereal dragons and angels painted on the panel that served as a canopy for the bed that had more or less been here for generations. Gauzy royal-blue curtains cascaded from that panel, offering some small privacy from the prying eyes of maids or dampening of the morning light, but now they were drawn and bound to the four engraved posts. She felt what little energy she had accumulated overnight seep away slowly, and an increasing need to go back to sleep.
     "Are you gonna find out?"
     "All things will be answered in time, Mother dearest."
     Ridha's eyes opened as he heard the door open again, with a nervous Lenna peeping in. The nervousness was there for only a second; shortly afterwards she composed herself with the usual quietly confidant air she always had to mask her true emotions. "The circle is done, Ridha. Lady Yllesia added a few odd-looking characters on the exterior circle, I'm not sure what they are but she says they should help a bit. Are you ready to send the demon over to it?"
     He gave a tired sigh as he lowered his arm and turned to press the cluster into Lenna's palm. "Use this to drag Aesma onto the circle. All you have to do is will it into the other room. I shall take care of the circle myself."
     With that he pressed past her as his voice dropped to the emotionless monotone that indicated his recitation of an ancient spell of blessing used to purify a place of sealing, leaving her staring at the rock in her hand. She then glanced up at her sister in concern.
     "Are you going to be alright, big sister?"
     "Didn't you just ask that earlier? Of course I'll be alright, it's not the first time he's drained me of every bit of energy before."
     "That's certainly true," Lenna muttered, recalling a time when the boy was too young to know his what his energy drains would do, and had caused many a fainting spell because of it. Nowadays he only rarely did such a thing, and when he did it would be in small, usually unnoticeable amounts. She wondered what would have caused him to require this much of a drain, but that would have to wait another day. "Do you think he'll just leave the creature sealed here?"
     "Nah, he wouldn't dare. Trust me, he's about as bad as Benji when it comes to protecting something he holds dear. He'll seal it here overnight and send it somewhere far away when he's had enough rest to complete the process. I know him and his father far too well."
     Lenna tried to withhold a slight smile as she recognized the note of affection in her sister's voice. The elder woman rarely allowed any hint of affection or anything that could be considered a weakness to show from her harsh outer shell... it keeps potential backstabbers at bay, she'd say. Lenna's gaze shifted to fall upon the stuffed toy seadragon that had been half-hidden under the blanket the whole time and a grin broke out on her face.
     "Where in the world did you get such an adorable miniature replica of Syldra?"
     "Eh, remember Eulalia, the maid from back in my first years here? She made it during the last term of my pregnancy as a more comfortable place to keep Syldra's summon crystal in... thought setting it in a medallion was too clunky. Say anything about it to the others and I'll have to hurt you."
     The princess's smile turned almost catlike in response. "You wouldn't dare hurt me, but I promise I won't mention it."
     "And you have a monster to send over to Red, so shoo already and get that done," Faris snapped with an underlying hint of affection in her voice, emphasizing this with a dismissive wave of her hand. Lenna nodded and wandered off with the monster in tow, leaving her sister to resume sleep.

      Krile was bored. Very, very bored. She sighed and allowed herself to gaze across the audience room once again. The crowd wasn't going to let up any time soon, and her chancellor didn't look to be willing to allow her reprieve any time soon. Once again she wondered why she always allowed audience to last this long, and gave a forlorn sigh while some nobleman whined about his neighbor pressing on his borders.
     As if ushered, the whisp of wood-burned smoke she recognized as Ridha's consciousness drifted into her enhanced senses, and with relief she welcomed him in.
     //You are weary of this, Lady Baldesion. Care for company?//
     //Anything is welcome, especially if it distracts from this. Whatcha been up to?//
     The smoke coiled, thickened, rolled on itsself, and uncoiled. //Visiting other times, saving my mother from being killed once again, so on. Sometimes I really do wish I was normal.//
     //Normal is so boring, though!// Krile smiled despite herself, and whoever it was that was talking to her about his problems now took that as encouragement and rambled further. //I certainly wouldn't trade my abilities to become a Mundane. You shouldn't either. I like you better this way, you're so much more interesting than Mundanes.//
     //Thanks, I think...// His response was shy, which was rather unusual for him, she thought. Deep within, away from her exposed consciousness, she also thought he was much cuter when he was shy too. Gods forbid she ever tell him that, however.
     The magelord settled into a more ambient, thinner form. //I have been thinking... why me? Why did the Crystals create me? They have not even told me my true purpose yet.//
     Krile frowned at this, oblivious to the subject who was talking to her. //I never heard about that. Explain this for me, Ridha?//
     The smoke curled and became denser... probably out of nervousness as far as Krile knew. //You remember when you commissioned me to do archaeological research in the Great Pyramid? And do you remember why I practically jumped on the chance?// At her thought of acknowledgement, he continued. //Ten months before my younger self was born, I was ordered by the Crystals to manipulate the Light Warrior of Fire into bearing what they called the Angel. So I sent Faris and Benjiro into the Fire Shrine, left everything else up to the Fire Crystal, and it was there I was conceived. I did not know that fetus was meant to be me, but the Crystals told me that for five years I should not come in contact with the child.//
     //To prevent a paradox until your younger self could stand up to such power, I gather,// Krile offered in a cheery, helpful tone. She gave a vapid nod to the distraught farmer in front of her and waved him away to the minister of agriculture. At least her friend's angst was interesting.
     //I still do not understand. Why me?//
     //Don't worry about it, hon, you'll only make your head hurt. How are your parents doing, by the way?//
     Once again the smoke curled upon itsself. //Mother is asleep. Father- I do not like tracing his mind around like this.//
     //Why's that?//
     //A man obsessed can be the most dangerous man in the world, Krile. Give that man the object of his obsession and he will kill anything and everything that threatens it without conscience to restrain him. In short, my father is every bit the stereotypical Scorpio.//
     Bal's queen frowned at this. //Oh my. Let's hope for all our sakes that he'll be at least discreet. Last thing we need right now is more political turmoil.//
     Silence fell between them, the kind of peaceful silence one shares with close friends. It was only broken when Krile realised that her friend was more distraught than she thought. When she asked what was wrong, all the answer he could give her was: I am too young to know of my own future and my own death.

~end chapter eight~

 

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