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C’mon. I could be a corrupt tyrant; you could be my second-in-command… It’ll be fun as anything! If it were up to them, there would never be any villains in the games. Every story needs someone to be the bad guy.
The Sylph’s eyes sting from biting sand and dripping blood as she flies quickly below the etched sky. Her fists clench then unfurl in rhythm to the throbbing pain. Monsters linger wherever her maroon blood falls, their purple bodies writhing against each other in their frustration that the Sylph is out of reach. The dim ache in her forehead reminds her why she flies out of reach.
None of you ever listened to me, so tell me why I should stay while you all make a mistake? Don’t look at me like that—you only want to keep “a stable time loop”!
How the etched glass of the sky reflects the shards of glass in the sand! The Sylph needs to squint with her good eye—the deceitfulness of this land only makes her heart twist. A sharp smile hidden behind piles of books on military tactics, an unusual twist in a game of pretend, a voice dripping with unabashed envy mixed with reluctant pride in the Enlightened One’s memorial… Did it really have to end with shards of glass hiding in the dust of an empire?
She lands on a smooth piece of glass jutting out of the endless sands. The back of her hand rubs at the blood in her eye. It’s an automatic gesture with no energy. Her silent headband computer tells it all—if the Seer really did desire to go back she would have sent a message by now. The Sylph brushes her hand against the bridge of her nose.
Breaking glass brings her to attention. She looks up sharply; the monsters congregating on a plateau of glass nearby is worrying. Even from afar the cracks in the plateau are worryingly large. The way the monsters move so quickly speak volumes. The Sylph launches herself off her platform, body aglow with psychic energy.
Splashes of fuchsia on the increasingly crack-ridden glass tell the entire story. “Come on, do you desire to gorge yourselves on royal flesh? Go ahead—I am going to take down as many of you bastards as I can! Feel the glory of the Alternian Empire!”
The bellowing challenge of the Seer only makes the monsters writhe even more, shoving each other off the plateau to get at the prize. She stands boldly with her broken replica of the Enlightened One’s weapon. Her attention is only on her attackers; it doesn’t take much for the Sylph to raise her out of reach.
“Do you really think that She would be proud of you if you sacrificed yourself so stupidly?” Sylph asks Seer with disgust.
The Seer glares right back without regard for her extensive injuries. “Oh, I don’t know. I have stopped trying to live up to Her memory since we stepped into this stupid game! Peixes and her legacy are dead,” she snaps quickly. “Why did you even rescue me? I bet that damnable “Prince” sent you! I’m fine. It’s not like any of you need me to start the Scratch.”
Temptation to simply let her have her wish crosses Sylph’s mind but—nights spent pouring over star charts, playful mock fights, you’re the best accomplice I could ever ask for—she only grits her teeth. Monsters still roam below yet neither pay any heed.
“Why are you so against getting a second chance?”
Seer closes her eyes. “I can’t see past the Scratch but, I’ve got this feeling in my gut. Some things aren’t meant to have second chances. I’m not going to lie: I’m scared. What if we choose wrong?”
It makes Sylph pause. “You don’t have to be afraid,” she says slowly after a while. “We’re not alone. We’ve got ten others at our back. We’ll find each other, we’ll be friends still. I promise.”
“Don’t make me smile…it hurts. Figures that the hero of Life can’t heal herself, huh?”
-
Maid and Empress circle each other with solemnity. The Empress is bigger, all lean muscle and burning rage. Maid knows it’s not her fight to win. It never was.
Promise me that you’ll find me no matter what happens, okay? I'll be waiting for you.
Empress flashes long fangs sharpened with age. “How dare you challenge me, demon, I’ll gut you like the coward you are!” Empress snarls with a lunge of her culling fork.
Maid leaps aside easily enough, hands still clutched at her implements. “I promised,” she says simply.
Her opponent’s face twists into a mask of confused anger. “What inane trickery are you trying now?”
“Just seeing if shards of glass are still in the sand… They are not. I am ready to face my fate.”