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Eclipse had discovered long ago that darkness could take the shape of strange whispers against the shell of his ear, huffs of cold breath that raised the hair on the back of his neck. Push him off. Follow the crow. Take the long way home. The orders rarely made any sense, in the moment. He'd been told not to obey them, but the trouble was that whenever he didn't, things happened. Bad things. He could never tell how bad it would be so he usually listened despite his mother's warnings not to.
He caused a lot of trouble. He never meant to. He tried to be good, for Mother if no one else, but the commands were insistent, day in and day out. The darkness guided him at every fork in the road, directing his footfalls with chilly fingers. He had never been afraid of it. Most people feared the unknown, but Eclipse leapt into it each day with his eyes wide open. It was because he trusted the darkness to lead and protect him through whatever came, even though everyone told him he shouldn't.
Sometimes he wondered if there was something wrong with him—not the way everyone else thought there was, that he was a freak or a devil child born without a soul. He wondered if he was seeing the world wrong, maybe, because it didn't seem that everyone else was seeing the same world. How could they see the wrongs and not feel the urge to right them? How could they let bad people do bad things when they had the power to stop it?
Eclipse had the power, and so he used it.
His mother had urged him to always be honest with her, so when she asked him if he'd been the one to set fire to the lord's estate, he said, "The lord was a bad man."
She frowned at him. "Did he hurt you?"
Eclipse shook his head and said, "Not me."
"Who did he hurt?"
"I don't know."
A stricken expression crossed her face. "The voice told you to do it, then?"
He hesitated before nodding once.
"Oh, darling." She brushed white hair from his face as she knelt before him, thumbing his cheek. "You hear it still? I thought the healer made it go away."
Eclipse shrugged. "It did go away for awhile."
"Then we'll just have to keep taking you."
"No, Mama." Eclipse took her wrist in his much smaller hand. "I don't want it to go away." Tears brimmed in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. Eclipse's brow furrowed; he had to explain. "The darkness is a friend. It doesn't want to hurt anyone except bad people."
"Darling, I've told you: voices in your head cannot be trusted. It could be anyone, anything speaking to you."
Eclipse's lips quirked in a frown. "But the darkness trusts me. Why shouldn't I trust it back?"
"My dear boy." Her voice broke. She moved her hand to cover her own face from the floor of their little apartment in Ul'dah. "Trust me. I'm your mother. I know what's best for you."
Eclipse placed his hands on her head, smoothing out her hair as she cried. "It's alright, Mama. The darkness will protect us."
His mother pulled her hand away from her face. "From the Brass Blades? My son, you have committed a crime. You have killed. Do you know what they will do to you?"
"No one saw me." She choked on a sob. Eclipse continued to pet her hair, reaching up to brush one of her long ears. "Ssh, Mama."
"Do not shush me!" she suddenly snapped. Eclipse pulled his hands away from her head in surprise. Her watery eyes flashed, and she took him firmly by the shoulders. "I am allowed to worry for my son! For his safety, for his health, for his soul. Eclipse, you must promise me you won't-" He began to shake his head, and her grip tightened. "No, listen! You cannot do these things. You must not! Even if it seems justified, even if you think you are preventing a greater harm. The Blades will not see it that way. They will lock you up or worse, and I can't- I can't let them take my son away from me. You are the light of my life."
He reached out, dragging his fingers up and down her right arm. "No one's going to take me from you. They couldn't if they tried."
"Eclipse." Her sobs grew desperate, her head bowing under the weight of them. "Please, I beg you. Let me take you back to Gridania-"
"I'm not going back to that healer," he told her gently. "I'm not going to any more healers, Mama, because I'm not sick. It's the world that's sick."
She collapsed into him, and he swayed as he took her in his arms. He soothed her, stroking her ears and whispering into her hair. He was always making Mama cry. But he knew the best thing he could do for her was listen to the darkness and do as it bade him.
Together, they would make a better world.
***
The lalafell looked him up and down shrewdly, having to crane his neck even though the viera boy was only eight. "You say he has a gift?"
"He is a very gifted boy," said Mother. Eclipse made a face, and she patted his head. "He can pick up any type of magic with ease. His instructors have declared him a savant, and his aether is strong."
"Yes, I can sense it is." Cocobuki placed a hand on his chin. "Perhaps a demonstration, then. What can you cast, boy?"
Eclipse tilted his chin up and said, "Fire."
"With what implement?"
"None."
Cocobuki huffed. "That is impossible. You must have a focus for your magic, else it will be naught but chaos."
"I know," said Eclipse.
The lalafell raised an eyebrow. He waddled away without a word, returning with a weathered scepter. "Use this. Take position across from me. If you will please step back, ma'am."
Eclipse did as he was told, letting the lalafell direct him. Cocobuki explained how to use the scepter to channel, and Eclipse nodded along. A couple of curious eyes slid over them as they took their positions.
"I will shield, and you will cast." Cocobuki gave him a thin smile. "Do not hold back. Show me what you can do."
Eclipse glanced to his mother, who hesitated a moment before nodding. He pulled the scepter back as he cast. It took several long seconds. When the spell was complete, he shifted his weight forward, holding the weapon aloft. A great fireball roared across the room straight at Cocobuki, whose shield flickered in the light of the flame. The lalafell held out as he braced against the heat, the force of it pushing him back a few ilms. Several people watching gasped.
"Oh-ho-ho!" Cocobuki was sweating as he straightened. "Who taught you that, my boy?"
Eclipse shrugged and said, "Nobody."
The lalafell's eyes gleamed. "Excellent. Most excellent."
***
He'd been three years old when the darkness told him his name was Eclipse. He was rather adamant that others call him this, despite the strange looks it got him. (And to be honest, he was going to get strange looks either way. White fringe hanging over blue eyes so light they hardly had any color in them at all, tattoos inked beneath his left eye, and burn scars on his hands. Yes, he knew strange looks.) Even his mother didn't use his given name anymore. So when he'd registered at the Adventurer's Guild, he'd told Momodi, "Just put down Eclipse."
The lalafell had looked skeptical. A small viera boy, a child, but one whose skills had received the highest praise. "Tell you what: you help us clear these beastmen out, and I'll call you any old thing you like."
He'd decimated their camp in an unnecessary display of force.
"Eclipse, then." Momodi grinned. "What do you say to another job? I think I have one you'd be perfect for."
Thus, he became an adventurer. Mother insisted he do something to keep him out of her hair while she was crafting jewelry or spinning thread, and people always looked well on adventurers. He was a little… different, perhaps. A little more frightening, a little more insane. But other people's reactions never really bothered him because he didn't much care what they thought. Eclipse knew what he was and who he wasn't, and that was enough for him.
He quickly surpassed everyone's expectations. By the time he was nine years old, Eclipse had become a black mage. He saved the world a time or two. His name was on everyone's lips. He will do great things, people said, even if they didn't understand why. He traveled around Eorzea absorbing everything he could on the sultana's dime. She had never asked him why he trusted her so, and if she did, he would have to lie.
He never told anyone else about the gift the darkness had given him. They wouldn't have understood even if he did, so there was no point. He simply said he had a premonition, or he just didn't explain at all. Sometimes people became angry with him rather than being grateful, and that was fine. He didn't need their gratitude. He walked with the darkness, and so he was never truly alone.
Some people had qualms about a destructive viera child being sent on diplomatic missions from the sultana, but they were quickly quelled when they saw him in action. He learned white magic as well, in what was mostly an attempt to make people less afraid of him. If his hands could heal as well as hurt, people would be more likely to take them. And healing was useful, if a little dull. He picked up a few other disciplines on the way, taking to them like a duck to water. Anything involving magic came easily to him.
When he was fourteen, Eclipse made a mistake.
It wasn't as though he never made mistakes. He was only a boy, after all. He was allowed to learn and grow, and that meant making the wrong choice some of the time. The trouble was, of course, that Eclipse carried so much on his shoulders that the slightest stumble had a ripple effect that was felt malms away.
The boy's name was Ayato. He was around Eclipse's age at the time. He was a short hyur from the Far East, and he was beautiful. Long, black hair falling into amber eyes, a sharp and deadly sword at his hip. He was in training to be a samurai, and he was proud of it. He ought to be. Eclipse saw the graceful way he moved, his eyes tracking hard planes of muscle and the sweat that collected on his forehead.
They were at the Sapphire Avenue Exchange, sitting on a bench and watching people go by as they chatted.
"Anyway," Ayato was saying, "Father thought he was a right brute and told him so. And then they dueled."
"Who won?"
Ayato wrinkled his nose. "Father, of course. Don't be stupid." He reached over to flick Eclipse on the forehead.
Eclipse pulled a face as if this bothered him, though it didn't. Any contact from Ayato was welcome. "Do you think someday you'll win a duel?"
"I have won duels!" Ayato protested.
"A real duel, I mean," Eclipse clarified. "One with stakes."
Ayato frowned and said, "What sort of stakes?"
Eclipse shrugged. "Your life. Your honor. Or… a kiss, maybe."
"A kiss?" Ayato repeated. "From a girl, you mean?"
Eclipse shook his head.
Ayato had to think on that for a moment before the answer occurred to him. His cheeks flushed red. "Oh. Well, I…" His hand rubbed the back of his neck. "You'd want to duel for that?"
"Why not? Unless you're afraid you'll lose."
The boy cleared his throat. "And what do I get if I win?"
"Anything," Eclipse said, and he meant it, too.
"Anything?" Eclipse nodded. "Gods, Eclipse. You- you can't just promise me anything."
"I can, and I will," he assured him. "Because I'm not going to lose."
The ghost of a smirk haunted Ayato's lips. "You're awfully confident."
Eclipse shrugged one shoulder lazily. "Some people like that about me."
The flush on Ayato's cheeks deepened. He coughed pointedly and said, "Fine. When's this duel happening?"
"Tomorrow at dawn. Meet me at the Gate of Thal."
"Fine."
When tomorrow came, Eclipse was calm. He could picture it exactly in his mind, how this was going to play out. Ayato would put up a good fight, but he hadn't really seen what Eclipse could do. He chose his rapier and crystal medium, which surprised all seven hells out of Ayato when he showed up with it.
"What are you doing with a sword?" his opponent inquired.
"It's my best weapon, actually." Eclipse tossed it into the air, spinning it around and catching the handle in a showy trick. "I told you: I don't intend to lose."
"You're a swordsman?" Ayato looked… betrayed. "I thought you were some magic savant."
"I am." He twirled his medium next. "When you combine them, it makes a rod. That's how red magic works."
"But-" Ayato huffed. He shook his head, then readied his weapon. "Fine. But I'm not going easy on you."
Eclipse grinned.
It really wasn't a fair fight. Ayato was an excellent swordsman, all proper footwork and stances. He just couldn't keep up with Eclipse, who made sure to keep enough distance between them that the other boy could hardly even attempt a strike.
"Will you stop blackflipping?" Ayato grit out tersely.
This was when Eclipse realized they were not having equal amounts of fun. A one-sided match wasn't what he intended. It was supposed to be an invigorating bout, Ayato so impressed with his skills that he let Eclipse keep kissing him even when there was nothing on the line. He supposed he ought to let up a little.
Eclipse began to move slower. He interrupted his own casts, pretending that Ayato had gotten the better of him. He parried but didn't strike. Rather than pleasing Ayato, this seemed to irritate him further. "Now you're not even trying," he complained.
"I am!" Eclipse insisted, expertly deflecting his blow. "You're just tiring me out."
"I haven't even hit you," he pointed out.
Eclipse sighed, stepping back as he dropped his stance. "I can let you hit me, if you want."
"No, I don't want you to let me." Ayato flicked his sword down, panting slightly with effort. "I just… didn't realize there was such a gap between us. You never told me you knew how wield a blade."
"Just a rapier," he corrected. "And that's only because it's got runes carved into it, see?" He tilted the blade, the runes catching in the early dawn light.
Ayato bit the inside of his cheek, looking away. "You're a better swordsman than me."
Eclipse frowned. He'd always known that, but he supposed Ayato hadn't. "That doesn't mean you're not talented."
"I can't move like you. I can't-" He grunted. "I've been training my whole life for this, and you just- what? Decided to pick up a sword one day and were instantly better than everyone else?"
"That's what being a savant means, near as I can tell," Eclipse said, shrugging. He made to sheathe his sword, but Ayato stopped him.
"No, don't." He stepped forward, his free hand curling around Eclipse's where he gripped the handle. "We're not finished."
Eclipse looked down at their joined hands. This had to be the closest they'd ever stood together. He could feel every thump of his heart against his ribcage. "You could just let me kiss you now," he suggested.
Ayato smiled faintly and said, "No. I'm going to make you work for it."
"I like the sound of that," he breathed into the scant space between them.
The tone of their duel shifted. At least Ayato didn't seem irritated with him anymore—he made a few taunts, clearly sore that he was losing, but Eclipse returned them in equal measure. He found himself grinning like a madman, having the time of his life.
And then the darkness whispered, Kill him.
It distracted him so thoroughly that Ayato's blade nicked his shoulder, surprising them both. Ayato backed off, a question on his lips, but Eclipse just shrugged it off and came at him again. Outwardly, he refocused on the battle. Inwardly, he was panicking.
Why would the darkness tell him to do that? Ayato wasn't evil, hadn't hurt anyone. Or had he? Kill him. It offered no explanation, only the same command. Eclipse had never been able to speak to the darkness with any success—either it couldn't hear him, or it just ignored him when he tried. With all his might, he tried to send back, Why? but the darkness only replied, Kill him now. It will spare you pain.
Eclipse's brow furrowed as he parried the next strike. He had always trusted the darkness to guide him well, but why would it ask this of him? Even if Ayato did cause him pain, Eclipse wouldn't mind. He knew Ayato wouldn't be around much longer, that he had to return to Doma to finish his training. Eclipse just wanted him for as long as he could have him, just to kiss and hold close for awhile. He didn't need anything else.
Trust me, said the darkness, but Eclipse couldn't. Not in this. Not when he didn't know why. He pleaded for an answer, but he did not receive one. The darkness did not explain its command, only repeated it again.
"Alright, alright," Ayato said eventually. "I think we can call this one." He was breathing hard, sweat dripping from his brow. He was so beautiful. Why would the darkness want him to-? "You've bested me."
Eclipse just stared at him as if trying to memorize the gentle curve of his neck, his smooth, broad chest beneath his shirt.
Ayato raised an eyebrow. His cheeks were already pink with exertion, but they flushed even brighter. "Don't you want your prize? Or… can it wait for a bath?"
"It can wait," said Eclipse, glad for the chance to put it off a moment.
Ayato nodded. "Right. I'll, um. Meet you in the aetheryte plaza in an hour?"
"Alright."
Eclipse watched him walk away. Why, why, why-?
He went and cleaned up as well, his long, straight ears pricked for the slightest of whispers in answer to his question. His mother asked him where he'd been, and he wasn't even sure what excuse left his lips. She smiled and patted him on the head. "Stay out of trouble, darling boy," Mama said, although she knew he never did.
This was a different kind of trouble. What was he to do? He couldn't very well obey the command. Ayato was his friend, might even be his- something else. Tell me why, he begged one final time, staring at his own blue-gray eyes in the mirror, his hair dripping water onto the floor.
Do it, or do not. I cannot say why.
Eclipse startled. It was the first time he'd ever gotten an answer. Had the darkness been able to hear him this whole time? What has he done? You can't be asking me to kill him for no reason.
There is a reason.
Then tell me what it is.
I will not.
Eclipse slammed his hand down hard against the sink.
"Eclipse?" his mother called from the other room. "Are you all right, dear?"
"Just slipped!" he called back. "I'm fine."
Don't make me choose.
I will not force your hand, my shadow.
"Except that's exactly what you're doing!" he shouted at the mirror.
"Darling?"
"I said I'm fine!"
Eclipse pushed past his worried mother, grabbing his rapier on the way out the door. A man couldn't be defenseless, after all. He wasn't going to do it, but he took it with him anyway. And perhaps if he hadn't, if he'd just left it behind, everything could've been different. But he didn't, and it wasn't, and Eclipse had to live with the choice he made that day.
***
The instant Eclipse's eyes met his in the aetheryte plaza, Ayato ducked his head. Under different circumstances, Eclipse might've smiled softly and thought, how beautiful he is. As it was, he just approached the boy stiffly and tried to keep his face blank.
"Hi," Ayato breathed, blinking up at him like his eyes held the world.
"Hi," Eclipse returned. He held out his hand. "Come with me."
Ayato hesitated a moment before his pale hand slid into Eclipse's brown one. It was warm and calloused, his grip firm. Eclipse held tightly and pulled him through the streets, weaving through the crowds until they reached Pearl Lane. Ayato looked around nervously.
"I don't like the look of this place," he said to Eclipse, who shrugged.
"People mind their business here." He tugged Ayato down a secluded alleyway and crowded him up against a wall, one hand splayed on the stone, the other sweeping a lock of stray hair out of Ayato's eyes. "We don't have to do this," he whispered.
Ayato was already breathing heavy, his chest brushing Eclipse's on every harsh inhale. "You beat me fair and square."
"True, but-" His fingers trailed down Ayato's cheek. "There's always a choice. To give in, or to resist. The path you take is determined by your own two feet, even if you're being pushed."
"Who are you trying to convince?" Ayato asked.
Eclipse swallowed thickly. "I just…" He pressed his forehead to Ayato's, breathing in the scent of him. Sword oil and sandalwood and musk. "I always try to make the right choices, but it's gotten all muddled. I don't know what's right anymore."
"Why does it have to be right or wrong?" Ayato whispered. "All I know is-" He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. "From the moment you said you wanted to kiss me, I've been able to think of nothing else. It's strange, I… I've never wanted to kiss a boy. I never even thought of it, and now it's all I think about. But I think that's just because it's you." His eyes fluttered open. "So please, don't torture me."
"I never wanted to hurt you."
The corners of his mouth lifted. "Then what are you waiting for? Permission? You have it. Don't make me beg."
Eclipse's eyes fell to his lips. Even if he were to do as the darkness bade him, surely he could have this first. Was it crueler that way? To kiss and then kill? Either way, there would be no one to comment on it. He'd just have to make whatever choice he could bear.
It would be unbearable not to kiss him while he was right there, warm and wanting. So Eclipse leaned forward and closed the distance between them, a gentle press of mouths. He could feel all the blood in his veins, hear it rushing through his heart with an irregular rhythm. He pulled away after a moment, sucking in a shaky breath.
Whatever was affecting him seemed to have done the same to Ayato, who licked his lips and surged forward for another kiss. His arms snaked around Eclipse's neck, their lips moving together with quick, soft presses. Eclipse wasn't even sure what he was doing, but it felt wonderful, and he didn't want to stop.
He had to, though, before he got too carried away. He dropped his free hand to grip the handle of his weapon. The rapier snicked against its sheath as he drew.
The thief must not have noticed he was armed—either that, or she thought Eclipse was just too occupied to block the strike of her dagger. It was only because his weapon was already in hand that he was able to stop the blade before it entered his back. He didn't hesitate before turning around, and in a single fluid motion, driving the sword through her heart.
She looked surprised in death, falling forward onto his blade. Eclipse removed it from her and turned back to face Ayato, who had gone white as sheet.
"You killed her," he murmured.
Eclipse's brow furrowed. "She tried to put a dagger in my back."
"You could've disarmed her. You could've-" He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "You looked as if you've done that before."
"I have," Eclipse told him, a little bewildered. "Surely you have as well."
Ayato shook his head quickly. "I think I'm going to be sick," he informed Eclipse, then promptly turned to the side and vomited.
Now would be a good time to do it, while he was indisposed. But how would it look, two bodies with sword wounds and one unarmed? It would've been easy to explain away one corpse in Pearl Lane—a simple mugging, a foreigner that didn't know the streets well enough to stay away. Two, though? He could dispose of the dagger easily enough. The two had met for a secret rendezvous, a deal that had gone wrong-
While he was thinking this through, Ayato was trying to compose himself. "I can't believe I didn't see it," he was saying faintly.
"I almost didn't see her either."
"Not her." Ayato gave him a disgusted look. "You."
Eclipse blinked. "Me?" he repeated.
"You killed her so easily, as if it didn't even occur to you not to. You didn't even know her."
Confusion had Eclipse hesitating. He cocked his head to the side. "Again, she tried to kill me-" he started, but Ayato cut him off.
"She was no match for you!" the boy insisted. "A petty thief, nothing more. You could've beaten her easily, but you didn't even try. You killed her in an instant, without a thought. You… have no honor. You're not a hero—you're just a killer."
"When did I claim to be a hero?" Eclipse asked. "I know what I am. It's not my fault you didn't."
"I thought you were better."
Annoyance flickered through him. Half the people he met thought he was a devil, the other half a savior. Did it not occur to anyone that he was just a person, capable of good deeds as well as ruthlessness when necessary? Eclipse never called himself anything but Eclipse, but that didn't stop people from attaching names and labels to him that he never asked for.
Somehow, it… hurt, coming from Ayato. He was a friend. Eclipse thought he'd seen past all that and just accepted his oddities, even appreciated them. Perhaps that was his mistake. Perhaps no one would ever see him for what he was, and he should stop expecting them to.
"You should go," said Eclipse quietly.
Ayato glanced from the body to Eclipse. He touched his lips faintly, then clutched his stomach.
"You should go," he repeated. "Before you see what I'm really capable of."
His terror was visible. It pained Eclipse to see it directed at him. It had never bothered him before—he knew some people would always be afraid of him, and that was fine, because he did some terrifying things. But this was different. This was Ayato. They'd joked and told each other stories, shared meals and laughter and kisses. And he'd disappointed him. They'd disappointed each other.
Ayato left, and Eclipse let him go. He leaned against the wall and sighed. The blood on his rapier glinted in a flash of sunlight, and he frowned at it. This should be Ayato's blood. He hadn't followed through on the darkness' command for the first time in many years. What consequences would there be?
It would be years before he'd find out, and he'd wish, body and soul, that he'd done the right thing and killed Ayato then. It would've made the world a better place.
***
Eclipse forgot things. He'd probably lost more cherished memories than he remembered by this point. He had long ago accepted this—perhaps it was the cost of his potent magical ability, or a consequence of hearing the whispers of the darkness. Either way, he didn't overthink it.
There was something about the Calamity, though. He lost a lot around that time. Months became blank, a whole crowd faces and names he couldn't recall. Mostly he shrugged and went on his way, continuing as he always had done. If it mattered, he'd remember.
The interesting thing about it, though, was that it was around that time he started to hear another voice. A woman's voice. He couldn't say for certain that the dark was masculine—it didn't really sound like either, and he'd always referred to it neutrally—but the light was definitely a woman. It was warm in contrast to the coldness of the dark. He tried to ask either of them if they knew each other, but neither answered. He knew now that the darkness was just being stubborn, but he wasn't sure the light could hear him at all.
He didn't hear them quite the same way. The light came in visions of a crystal, urging him to hear, feel, and think. Eclipse was so used to clear commands, he wasn't quite sure what to do with this. He had his first conversation with the light in a vision during some banquet the sultana threw. (Honestly, why did they still invite him to these things? He always offended someone, and he had no table manners to speak of.)
"Hear. Feel. Think," it bade him.
Eclipse crossed his arms. "Can't you be a little more specific?" he asked.
"Patience, my child."
"You ought to know," he told her, since it seemed she was able to hear him, "I am a child of the darkness."
"Yes, you are," it agreed. "But you were mine first."
Eclipse's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"
"I chose you before he did, only I was too weak to speak to you. He saw your power and wanted desperately to turn you against me."
"I have nothing against you," he said honestly. "But the darkness has been with me my entire life. It has guided me well and protected me from harm. If speaking to you means turning on it, I won't do it."
He could swear the voice sighed. "I thought you might say that."
There was silence for a moment. Eclipse took this time to observe the crystal before him and the other figures it reached out to. "Who are they?" he asked.
"My chosen. My Warriors of Light."
Eclipse had heard the term before. People started speaking of them after the Calamity. Heroes that had saved the world, apparently. Eclipse wasn't terribly impressed—he'd done that a few times, too. "What does that make me?" he asked the light.
"It makes you a Hollow."
"A Hollow?" he repeated.
"Hollow Eclipse," she explained. "That has always been your name. There are others like you, other Hollows. You must seek them out."
"For what purpose?"
The voice paused for a moment, as if thinking. "No one should face the things you do alone."
"I'm not alone," Eclipse protested. "The darkness walks with me."
"Zodiark is not your friend, Hollow."
Eclipse's heart thudded in his chest. "Is that its name?"
"It is. I sense it would not be productive to speak ill of him, so I will only tell you this: the other Hollows are your kin. You are linked by bonds stronger than anything in this world. Find them, and I swear to you, you will have that better world you so fervently seek."
The vision began to fade around him. "Wait-"
"I have not the strength to speak to you further. I will come to you another time. Until then, remember my words: Hear. Feel. Think."
Eclipse woke with a pounding headache and more questions than answers. He wasn't sure whether he should listen to the light at all, but either the darkness didn't have an opinion or it simply refused to share it with him. Zodiark. At least he had a name.
He would have to see what he could do with that.