Catastrophe

     “Kazu!”

     Chieko embraced the huge Pantagruel tightly. She didn’t let go for quite a few minutes. Her voice muffled into his broad chest, she said,

     “I was so worried. Gods, I’m so sorry! Do you feel okay?”

    “Yeah, I’m alright,” Kazuki answered, looking down at her sheepishly. “But that was the scariest thing ever.”

     Kazu and Takaeyama were returned to the rest of the Champions in the morning two days after the Star Festival. The reunion had brought a good deal of relief to the Champions, who appeared world-weary in the days after the party. Though the Queen had provided them with all manner of diversions, none could shake the feelings of tension and anxiety that had fallen over them.

     Chieko remained disconsolate, nagged at by guilt and worries. While outwardly the others had griped about her incessant cheeriness and constant chatter, now that it was absent they all felt as though the very suns had been blotted. Ayame had fallen into a state of sullen contemplation which no one- not even Keisuke- could fathom. When he pressed her to explain her mood, she replied that she was “just worried about stuff” and changed the subject. Yukiiae, feeling the now constant lurches of the planet, had become a ball of nerves. She was perpetually distracted, to the point where trying to hold a conversation with her was nearly impossible. Kat noticed a coldness come over Harata that both alarmed and perplexed her. She knew better than to ask him for a reason. It was a silly thing to ask, really. What wasn’t the matter? Their mission had stalled, everyone felt dispirited, and then there was the news from Diasminion.

     The day before, and enormous wave had thundered from the western sea, devouring several coastal villages. Later in the day, a tremor rocked the center of the country, flattening buildings and causing landslides which ate the sides of mountains away before burying the valleys below. The Champions had fallen into a shocked silence when Mina had entered the lounge, plopped into a chair and said flatly,

     “My parents are dead.”

     After a time, Chieko whispered,

     “Oh, Mina…”

     “Are you… are you sure?” added Harata.

     “Yeah. The Queen’s goons told me. It was on the news, I guess since we’re all famous now.”

     No one said anything more.

     Mina didn’t look at the others, but slouched in the armchair, staring at her hands. She felt at once empty and overflowing, a confused spectrum of emotions spun within her head and heart. She’d never been close to her mother and father. For a long time they lived merely as objects that occupied the same space. Hearing of their deaths brought back a rush of bitterness and resentment. Why couldn’t things have been different?

     Mina was born to a well-respected pair of medical researchers. They’d married simply because it seemed like the natural thing to do- they shared common interests and were attracted to one another. Everyone expected it. Both of Mina’s parents had but one love in life- discovery. The Morias existed peacefully in their home, separate planets revolving around the same sun. That they did not love or even pay very much attention to each other didn’t trouble the pair in the slightest.

     They decided to have a child simply to see what would happen, more an experiment that a longing for parenthood. In the beginning, Mina’s birth had been an interesting experience, but eventually the chores of late-night feedings, soothing away nightmares, changing diapers had rendered the child a hindrance. Both of the Morias were relieved when Mina became old enough to send to school. They took little notice that their child took in information at a rapid rate, sprinting through grades. They were ignorant of the fights she got into. As Mina grew older and the taunts of her classmates grew unbearable, she had no one to turn to. She turned to violence instead.

     It started with animals. Her parents regarded her penchant for dissecting still-living creatures at the kitchen table merely as healthy curiosity. As Mina’s “experiments” grew more warped, they took no notice. One night, in a fit of desperation, Mina went into her parents’ laboratory and set fire to her clothes. When her parents didn’t look up from her work, she announced,

     “I’m on fire.”

     Her mother glanced up briefly from her computer.

     “You should put that out,” she said without emotion and turned back to her work.

     Mina rolled about to extinguish the flames. In silence, she walked away.

     The unending jeers of her classmates and silent ignorance of her parents led Mina to believe, unflinchingly, that there was safety only in solitude. Her weapons research became her embittered revenge. People were cold, selfish creatures. Helping to kill them off was a balm to her wounded spirit. When she became the youngest Sabian ever to win the Lashiek-Rien Prize for weapons development, her parents forgot to attend the ceremony. By that point, Mina no longer cared. She’d forged for herself her world of solitude, the corpses she created the only guests in her home.

     Now here she was, saving this world full of people who meant nothing to her. Her solitude shattered, surrounded every day by the nine others with whom she traveled- some Average, some not. Yet all of them, like her, had felt the effects of that elusive thing called affection. For some, love had been the source of joy in life. For others it had shattered hearts and minds, leaving a swath of destruction. In the lives of two of them, it had simply been absent. Mina’s stomach burned as she wondered what kind of person she might have become if someone had bothered to reach out to her before her heart turned to stone. Why couldn’t things have just been different?

     Mina rose abruptly and stalked into the women’s bedroom.

     It was Keisuke who followed her.

     After Takaeyama and Kazuki had been reunited with the other Champions, they were called to the Hall of Audience once again to receive the final judgment of the Queen’s Council. One look at the Queen, seated resplendent on her throne, showed evidence of a change in her demeanor. Though she attempted her warm gaze of days before, there was an underlying tension within her that occasionally clawed its way to her surface. The atmosphere in the Hall was somber, as though a funeral had occurred just moments before.

     “Step forward, Harata,” Queen Shaia said, her manner almost casual. She’d been greatly impressed with the Diasminians and regretted deeply that she’d have no more time to get to know them.

     “The Council has reached its decision,” she announced. “In light of our observations, and of the events occurring around the world, we have decided that it is in the best interest of Anrakshi to allow you to proceed. May the grace of the gods go with you. The lives of my own people may well hang in the balance.” For a moment, the official mask on her face cracked, and Shaia’s gaze turned sorrowful. “We have learned that the long dormant volcano, Anra, is likely to erupt. Our scientists tell us that the damage will be catastrophic. I will not abandon my people,” she said defiantly. “If they are to suffer, I shall suffer with them. It appears that the time has come for all of us to be brave. Fare thee well, Champions. I pray that we are destined again to meet in this world.”

     The ten Diasminians were escorted, for the last time, from the Hall of Audience.

     The humid, heavy air of Anrakshi’s jungle seemed to stick to the skin of the Champions as they made their progress. They’d been outfitted with packs and supplies, mosquito netting and machetes for hacking away the vines and creepers that grew rapidly across the trails. All wore new clothes but Blue, whose now tattered clothing had been repaired to the best of the court seamstress’ ability. He looked almost ridiculously shabby, but explained that to wear anything else would be sacrilegious. No one bothered to argue with him.

     They’d been trekking through the jungle, slashing away at the tangled growth that impeded them when Yukiiae, who’d grown intensely withdrawn, stopped dead in her tracks. Chieko, lost in thought, ran right into her, but the Decameron seemed not to notice. Slowly, in an almost dreamlike manner, she raised her hand to her head. Eyes unfocused she crumpled, with a scream that seemed composed not only of her own voice, but that of a multitude of tortured souls. The Champions nearest her stared in shocked silence at her quivering form on the forest floor. Takaeyama stumbled as he felt the already charged air around him burst with energy, painfully violent. He was left breathless as the surge receded, leaving behind a vacuum so hopelessly void he wondered if the very oxygen itself had disappeared.

     “Yukiiae?” Chieko called with trepidation as she knelt down beside the Decameron. For an instant there was cacophony in the jungle- animals screeched, ancient trees creaked. The ground itself heaved, knocking many of the Champions off their feet. Then all was silent.

     “What in the name of…” Keisuke mused aloud.

     “Yukiiae?” Chieko pleaded, shaking her. Panicked, Chi shook harder. Yukiiae’s head lolled, eyes still sightless fixed on a point beyond the GelbFaust’s shoulder. Slowly they cleared, focused once more. Yukiiae began to cry, a brokenhearted gentle weeping.

     “What happened?” Harata asked as he reached them.

     “I don’t know,” Chieko answered desperately.

     “Yukiiae,” Harata said firmly. “What just happened?”

     It took a moment for the Decameron to compose herself.

     “We’re too late,” she whispered. “The Guardians are dead.”

     This shouldn’t be here.

     Harata was looking at a small hut sitting in a cleared area of the jungle. There was nothing on any map he’d seen to indicate the presence of the structure. Could it be that they were lost on top of everything else? By rights, they should be merely a half-day’s journey from where the Guardians made their home.

     If they were still there. It seemed inconceivable that they’d been destroyed… yet Yukiiae remained inconsolable. How could they have been killed? Weren’t they gods, after all? Harata shuddered to think of coming up against whatever had the power to destroy a god. Was it lying in wait for them? How in the world were they meant to defeat something of that magnitude? He glanced back at the Champions, ragged and worn as they plodded along. Sighing, he turned back to the hut. The exhalation caught in his throat as he noticed the old man beckoning from the doorway.

     “About time, Harata, but at least you made it.”

     That voice. Harata couldn’t have forgotten, much as he wanted to, the voice of the man who had set the gears of this travesty in motion. He’d never before seen the Tormentor, and felt surprise well up within at the sight of him- old and bearded, scruffy and hobbling, dressed in mousy brown robes of days long past. His dark eyes, however, betrayed a sharp mind. The old man was smiling broadly as the Champions approached and pooled around him. They all stared as Blue fell upon one knee, bowing deeply.

     “Qa Haran,” the Night’s Herald said with gentle reverence.

     “Blue, my boy! Shame about the leg,” the old man pattered as he helped Blue to rise.

     Qa Haran studied the group with pride. These were his children, his legacy. He’d seen them as such throughout the ages as their souls lay in wait for rebirth. They were all here, intact before his eyes. He’d watched them struggle, saw how they’d suffered, some more than others. Yes, they were all there- the Unwilling Soul right up to the child of Caiaphas. Qa Haran wondered at himself that he could feel such affection for the great-grandson of his sworn enemy. He recalled his dismay at the discovery that the soul he needed was a direct descendant of his betrayer. Yet the holiness of the man that Blue had once been could not be denied. Despite the stain within his blood, that soul had but one lesson left to learn… looking at Blue now, Qa Haran could see the marks of that lesson upon him, though his knowledge was as yet incomplete. He would learn it, and learn it completely. Of that there was no doubt.

     Beside Blue stood the one who housed the soul of the Magician, an ancient soul, contemporary of Qa Haran himself. That man had been an amazing power, privy to secrets others could barely even comprehend. The one before him now, called only Takaeyama, held all the potential of that soul within. Fate had twisted cruelly, blighting him with a mind that would only decay within his head. He would probably never reach the peak that his former self had known… but perhaps there was a reason for this to be. In the ancient days, there had still been room in the world for Corduran “magic”. Now, in the so-called “modern age”, such knowledge could easily lead to an early death. Perhaps it was for the best.

     The soul of the Laborer stood beside the soul Qa Haran called the Child. He’d so little time left when he finally found her. He wanted to allow her to grow, as the others had, but was not given such a choice. She barely understood the pact she’d made when he robbed her little body of the soul within. Watching Chieko grow and awaken to the world, shining and joyful, had been one of Qa Haran’s greatest joys. He thanked the gods personally for every favor granted her, and suffered every parent’s heartache for all the hard-learned lessons of the last few months.

     That the Laborer had befriended her came as little surprise. That aged, gentle soul had toiled though his former life, loving passionately and without condition his family and friends. He’d been an old man when Qa Haran approached him. A wise man, he’d given his soul freely and without restraint. Kazuki, who’d suffered loss and reveled in love throughout his life, was an embodiment of the wise soul within. He’d done Qa Haran proud- shouldering his burdens and sharing his knowledge, a savant in fool’s clothing.

     The Duchess was gripping the hand of the Gentle One. Qa Haran found it odd that Kat would discover a guide in Yukiiae. The Duchess and her family had been easy to sway- imagine the honor of that Royal family, informed that their bloodline had produced the ideal of their Clan. Though it had been difficult for the Duchess to part with that life which she had loved, she was pressured greatly by her family and advisors. Even her husband had counseled her to give up her soul for the greater good. Secretly she sorrowed, kissing her small children who knew nothing of the permanent separation that was to come. Pain had tinged her honor, and she had been born a second time in fear.

     The Gentle One had been very near the same being as she was before him now. A quiet healer, she’d moved through her life with the simple goal of easing pain. Yet how full that former life had been! Qa Haran felt his own heart breaking to see Yukiiae slowly robbed of all the love in her life. Worse for him was the knowledge that the scars upon that sensitive heart would never heal, only fester until she drew her final breath. He felt pride in her, however- that she could carry so much hidden pain but continue to act only in gentle mercy, without bitterness or resentment. He wished that she might find peace, though that wish would never be granted in this life.

     The Unwilling Soul stood a bit apart from the others, eyeing Qa Haran with suspicion. He might as well have been the descendant of Caiaphas, so close did he come to destroying the Dream. The Unwilling Soul had never believed, though perhaps now he was beginning to. To submit his soul to Qa Haran, to give up the dream of a glorious death upon the battlefield had been nearly impossible for him to comprehend. Throughout Keisuke’s life he battled his own regretful soul, a soul which drove him to lust for self-destruction. It was only through his own amazing will, a strength that came from the very soul that wished its own annihilation, that Keisuke had managed to survive. He would never understand his own longing for death, just as he might never reconcile within his inner self the choice that he had made… but he had kept his end of the bargain. He stood now before Qa Haran, willing to see the Task to the end.

     It was for the soul of the Alchemist that Qa Haran felt the most pity. In her former life she had been lauded and adored, recognized in glory for the genius within. In her rebirth she had been ridiculed and exiled, warping her feelings toward mankind. While it was Mina who’d shown most of the potential that her soul had to offer, it was she who suffered most for it. In a world that wanted everyone neatly categorized, shining stars were extinguished as quickly as with the dawn. Her soul had turned to a darkness that would make even the twisted Keisuke cringe. That being which had once been pure and bright had been tarnished to a blackness to rival the clouded, moonless night. Qa Haran regretted deeply having to cut short the life of peaceful glory to have her reborn in a world that rejected her simply for her intelligence. What had once been a benefit had become a flaw. His only prayer was that she might one day regain the confidence to battle the evil that had grown within her and turn her face towards the suns once more.

      Then there were the Twins…

     Qa Haran’s observations were cut off by Chieko, who’d bounced up to him shortly after Blue had risen.

     “Are you really Qa Haran? Really?”

     “Yes, my dear, I am.”

     “I knew I’d get to meet you! This is so cool! Um… Pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Qa Haran, sir. I’m Chieko.”

     They shook hands, Qa Haran saying,

     “Of that I am well aware, Little One. Though it is nice to meet you in person.”

     “It was you… in the dream.” Harata cut in without introduction.

     “That it was. I’m sorry it had to be that way, but you needed to see.”

     “I don’t get it,” Harata said in frustration. “I don’t get any of this.”

     “I’m sure you all have a lot of questions. I’m here to explain what I can, and to tell you what needs to be done. As young Yukiiae has told you, the Guardians have been destroyed. This changes things greatly, I’m afraid… but first, sit. I’ll explain some of the questions that have been troubling you.”

     They gathered around Qa Haran, sitting on the loamy jungle floor. Harata was first to speak, his voice pained.

     “Why? Why am I Clanless? Why didn’t you come back, like the Legend said?”

     “Well, when I wrote the Legend I had been intending to, but things… changed.”

     They all stared.

     “Yes, I wrote the Legend of Diasminion. It was merely a safeguard. After the Feast of the Wolves and the war that followed, with the Clans united, my students and I worried for the future. It has always been man’s nature to become corrupt, and nations follow such a course as well. We had built a utopia… and we wanted to protect it.

     “As your Blue may know by now, the gods’ rules may be broken, so long as one can convince them of the amusement that can be provided as a result. My most gifted apprentice, a Night’s Herald by the name of Caiaphas, surmised that human beings might one day emit enough force- energy, let’s call it- to destroy the very planet. At first glance, his theory seemed laughable. However, when delved into, it did prove a compelling argument. While I had wanted to set about my project with the benefit of Diasminion alone in mind, Caiaphas’s theory proved useful in persuading the gods… We marketed our plan to them as a great source of entertainment. For the paltry sum of nine souls laying dormant, they would be guaranteed the spectacle of watching a tiny piece of humanity attempt to save an entire world from destruction. The gods were swayed, and allowed me the tools I needed to collect my ‘Champions’- the souls of Diasminians, born throughout the ages, who’d reached the peak of their abilities within their Clan. Those nine, we told the gods, would one day save Qian Ra.

     “But that was never my intention. The Legend was written as such to assure the protection of the Champions upon their rebirth, the time when I would call them forth. Yet what I had planned was to install them as leaders into a society decaying and corrupt. Together we would save the country I’d created. How our plans go awry! Little did I know, all those centuries ago, that Caiaphas’s worry would come to pass. Little did I know that my own favored student would turn against me.

     “I was poisoned by Caiaphas- a kind of poison that eats the very soul itself. Had it not been for my favor with the gods, I would not have even continued to exist. I had already begun collecting my Champions, but time then became precious. Already I was having difficulty swaying one of the souls to join me. One soul refused to be found. With much difficulty I located the soul of the Dauern Champion, a young farmhand in the hinterlands of Diasminion. She might have been willing enough…

     “… if it hadn’t been for her brother. She lived in a tiny shanty with her twin. The two of them had been through everything together, and were quite close. Unable to bear the thought of her own soul in stasis while his went on, she refused. I left them, begging them to consider the choice they were making, with assurances that I would return.

     “By the time I’d returned, I’d assembled the other Champions, including the Unwilling Soul and the one that had been so difficult to find. When I approached them a second time, I was offered an ultimatum. I could take both of them- or neither. I was very near death by then, pushing myself to finish my work before sending my own soul to wait with the rest. I was desperate, and so I agreed.

     “The gods were not pleased. I had taken ten souls, one seemingly without purpose. We struck a bargain. I myself would die, never again to be reborn, and the Dauern soul would take my place. The gods, seeing reason, allowed me to continue to have a hand in the proceedings. And that is why, Harata, it is you who fills the role as Clanless rather than myself.”

     “Are you… are you really Dauern?” Kat asked Harata, wide-eyed.

     Head bowed, Harata answered,

     “Yeah.”

     “You… you bastard!” Keisuke was nearly shrieking, as he rose to his feet. “You will die! If not now, if not tomorrow, even if not by my own hand, then by the bloodline of Kurokawa. I am your death, and my heirs will carry that Oath as well. You will die by these blades. This I swear by the Wolves and by the blood of my House.”

     “Enough of that now, Keisuke,” Qa Haran chided. “Your Oath is on your own head and your own Honor, as is the one you just made.”

     “What do we do now that the Guardians are… are gone?” Yukiiae finished her question in a whisper.

     “It was theorized by Caiaphas that you’d all have to discover- ‘unlock’ if you will- your own power, related to the gifts of your Clans, but not necessarily one in the same.”

     “But… but the Dauern don’t have a Gift,” Ayame interjected.

     “Oh yes you do. How do you explain how your mother had known to send Harata away? Or the so-called ‘bombings’ on the Underground in Mianuus? Those weren’t bombings- that was the suffering of a multitude of souls unleashed as the force of one collective mind. You know what the mind can do. You’ve seen it yourself.”

     Ayame didn’t see the strange look Kat was giving her, awash as she was in the memory of the man dying before her. He’d struck her, hard, breaking one of her back teeth. For only a moment, she’d been furious- despairing her lot, that she’d have to put up with such mistreatment. Her anger swelled, knowing that he’d hit her again and she hated him and all that he stood for. Blinded by her own fury, she’d barely registered that he was dying, choking away on nothing at all. It was me.

     “How to we find out about these ‘powers’?” Mina asked.

     “Unfortunately, I don’t know.”

     Again, the Champions stared aghast at Qa Haran.

     “Caiaphas had found the way, but by that time he had already begun plotting against me. He refused to share what he knew, and took that knowledge to his grave. I instructed Harata to take you all to see the Guardians, who would surely know what to do. They’d tell you, having a vested interest in the safety of the planet. Now that they’ve been destroyed, it seems there’s only one other way.”

     “Which is?” asked Harata.

     “Ask Caiaphas himself.”

     “But isn’t he dead?” Chieko asked in wonderment.

     “Yes, quite dead, but his soul has gone to its final resting place.” A flicker of sorrow clouded Qa Haran’s eyes for just a moment as they came to rest on Blue. “In Pandemonium.”