“May the Dragon Seal bless you.” A
passing man greeted him and Arc found a deep irrational hate rise up
from within his gullet like bitter bile. No, it was no irrational
hate. It was only too rational.
Arc nodded and turned away, trying to curb his anger. There was no point in getting angry. No point at all.
Then Arc felt the lancing pain shriek through his head again and he gripped the table with both hands in an effort to keep himself steady. The pain was accompanied by screaming howls of agony, begging for release, begging for succour, begging for help even as she herself was helpless, helplessly trapped in that cursed form that could not be called life, that cursed existence and Arc fought hard against the torrents of emotions and hurt to keep from being overwhelmed by the sheer power behind the wave.
Then the pain eased as suddenly as it had began and he could hear the world again.
This was no life.
Guilt rushed through Arc at the thought. Who was he to complain about life? He had no right to do so, not when she was still trapped. But he couldn't help her. Nobody could and Arc wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. For the sake of the world whose blind adulation did nothing to soothe her pain? They knew nothing of her burden, they knew nothing of what she had done for them!
Arc stumbled away from the table like a drunkard, unsteady steps hoping to find solidity in the ground beneath. Then cold hands grabbed his and guided him back slowly to his seat. Arc looked up to see Cora's pale skinned visage. Her small and dainty nose twitched in concern mirrored within the soulful depths of her eyes. She really did look like a mother at times.
Arc forced himself to focus.
“Are you okay, Arc?” She asked, her soft voice barely carrying across the round table as she took her seat opposite him.
“Barely. Thank you, Cora.”
“You called and I answered.” She leaned forward. “What do you need me for?”
“I.. It..” Arc took a deep breath to gather himself. “When was the last time you've eaten?”
Cora tried to hide her surprise, but failed miserably. “Eaten? You mean a person, of course?” Arc nodded. “Two days ago.” Cora paused. “I've been trying not to!” She added defensively. “I can control myself for a few days at a time now. But why?”
“I need to know your instincts are still sharp,” Arc said urgently. “Are they?”
“Yes. What is this all about, Arc?” She asked impatiently.
“It's about the Great Dragon.”
“The Great Dragon? But she's the Dragon Seal-”
“Yes! I know! That's why! We have to free her, Cora. She's suffering.” Arc pleaded.
“Arc, don't you remember those years? When we fought so hard to restore the Seal? When she offered herself up to be the Seal? Don't you remember the horrors that came in?”
“Damn it, Cora, I don't give a damn anymore! Let the world burn! They don't give a damn about her but she's suffering in there! She may look like just a statue now, but I can feel her, Cora, I can feel her screaming in there, I can feel what she's going through and I can't even stand a few seconds of it. She's been enduring it for twelve years, Cora, twelve long years and I can't bear to see her endure it any longer. We have to free her!”
Cora held his manic gaze steadily, before closing her eyes.
A deep, long silence separated them, a distant gulf from which Arc tried to reach across. It was an ocean of tears, memories pulled up by the waves like so much wreckage, the remaining debris of experiences past, shared trauma between the two.
Cora opened her eyes and Arc did his best to suppress a shiver, even as his lips formed a grin. He recognised that glint in her eyes.
“What hid in you could not hide from me,” Arc whispered, “Because it hid in me too.”
“You're crazy, Arc.” Cora murmured amazedly, her lips barely moving. “You know I'll follow you to Hell and back. Again.”
“Yes. What you were, I am. What I am, you are. I'm glad you've regained yourself.”
“Many would say I've lost myself.” Cora began giggling inanely.
“I would sa-” Arc collapsed forward onto the table, sheer agony coursing through his body, deafening screams resounding in his eardrums, almost as if his ears were going to burst and he could almost imagine the blood flowing out, thick, red, hateful, carrying liquid pain, oozing out because his body, no body could hold that much pain, Pain with a capital 'P', Pain personified, Pain alive, Pain all-consuming, Pain, Pain, Pain-
Then it passed. He heaved several deep breaths; the pain had been too great to allow him to scream, even to breathe and his lungs were aching, starved of air though the ache was nothing compared to what he had just experienced.
“Arc, are you okay?”
“She.. We need to get her out. We need to save her. Damn the world, damn the Seal. She doesn't deserve this.” Arc hissed. “Nobody does.”
Cora's cold body wrapped itself around Arc. “Let's get you out of here first.” She tugged him away. “Go on. We can't help her until we help you.”
“I'm.. fine..” He gritted his teeth and stood up with some effort. “Let's go.”
Orange, muted light struggled through the stained glass of the windows. Autumnal shades dappled the room, dying and fading, a precursor of the cold death of winter. Arc sat in an antique armchair, brooding like a bitter hen with eggs cursed never to hatch.
Cora had insisted they planned, much to Arc's surprise. So, she hadn't properly returned to her old self, Arc mused. Perhaps this strange in-between state of mind for her would prove useful yet. But planning had taken time and Arc was still plagued by the visions and tortured by the pain of her Burden.
It was going too slowly. Arc's grip on the armchair tightened, wishing he could be reunited with her.
“Arc?”
Cora's voice sent a strange tremor through his body. Cora was his friend. Cora was his ally. Cora was his helper. She was also..
He suppressed the uncomfortable ice within. He had no right to judge, not when he himself was getting closer and closer to the brink. Besides, he liked her. She reminded him much of his mother. But his mother had never torn infants apart from limb to limb-
Stop it, he told himself. You're not any better.
“Yeah?”
-bathing in their blood-
“Do you think we should call in others?”
“Who?”
-blood pouring into her open mouth-
“Vill, of course.” Cora frowned. “You still don't like him? After all these years?”
Arc shook his head, as much a negative as to clear his mind.
-sweet, succulent baby-flesh-
“Are you okay?”
“I'm fine!” Arc growled, one hand to his head, batting her away with the other.
Cora stood impassive as he gritted his teeth and animalistic growls sounded from deep within his throat like a challenge to an unknown predator.
“You're getting worse, Arc.”
“Who are you to say?” He snapped. “I'm becoming more like you!”
“Mm hm.” Cora smiled, suddenly joyous. “You're right, we don't need others.”
“I-”
Then the Burden struck him again and this time, Arc screamed.
Panting deeply, but with a feral grin on her crimson-stained lips, Cora leapt forward and deftly decapitated the guard with her dagger, its blade finding the weak spot between helmet and armour. Holding up her trophy and grinning at it, she kissed it briefly and tossed it down at the other guards as she continued running up the steps. Cries of dismay sounded amongst the guard and Cora laughed in delight at their despair. She expected them to be made of firmer stuff, but oh, how gratifying it was to be wrong!
Her light steps brought her quickly beside Arc, who had just bisected a man horizontally, bastard sword swinging around for another blow. She ducked and threw a dagger at a spearman, even as she drew another pair from her leather leggings to rearm herself.
“Arc, Arc, why don't you cut me a fine figure and be a dashing hero!” Cora cackled in a singsong voice, even as Arc cleaved a man brutally, easily slicing through muscle and bone. With a deep roar, Arc charged forward into the mass of guards and began sweeping a whirling howl-storm of death.
“A hit, a palpable hit!” Cora cried out exultantly as she used her twin blades to cut open a man's chest and then placed her lips against the wound, drinking out his lifeblood, tearing at the flesh with her incisors. The blood covered her eyes, blinding her, but it hardly hindered her as she heard the whistling sound of metal soaring in an arc towards her and she nimbly dodged the blow. Clearing the red from her vision, she saw a young- what fine features he had!- man crying aloud and rushing her with a broadsword raised high for a killing blow.
She sprang forward, a move he had not expected and she wrapped her lanky arms around him in a deadly embrace, twin daggers piercing him from behind even as she laid her lips upon his and began savagely ripping out flesh.
“Sweet, sweet meat!” Cora crowed gleefully as she pushed him down the steps and continued running upwards. They were so close, only a flight or two more, then they would reach her, the Great Dragon herself..
As if her thoughts had summoned it, a fearsome roar sounded, far louder and far more bestial than any human vocal chord could produce and a dragon slammed down from above in front of Arc. Its scales a brilliant, striking red- how like blood!- tinged with a metallic gloss, the dragon directed its baleful gaze down at Arc who was no taller than perhaps the dragon's head was long.
“Arc!” Cora called out. “Go ahead and free her! Let me deal with this lizard!”
The bloodlust and fervour of battle still shone brightly in Arc's eyes, but then a measure of reason reasserted itself and Arc nodded his thanks. Feinting a forward blow that would have left him open, Arc leapt backwards several steps down as the dragon took the bait and snapped its jaws where Arc was a few moments ago. The maneuver gave Arc time to run forward and past the dragon, who would have tried to claw him with its talons or bludgeon him with its tail had Cora not plunged both blades into the serpentine beast's nostrils. Its cry of pain was horrific but Cora did not stop there even as it thrashed about in abject agony. Arms akimbo, Cora gouged both thumbs into the maleficent eyes of the dragon, laughing insanely as she felt the vitreous jelly burst out and the dragon's cries became screams. Blind and unable to smell, the dragon charged forward in a haze of agony, no longer able to differentiate friend from foe and the guards rushing up the stairs were caught like leaves in a hurricane.
Cora saluted the dragon, licking her lips hungrily, then turned her attention to Arc. She was so intent on watching him commence the ritual that she did not even feel the sword piercing into her heart until she saw it protruding from her chest, impaling her from behind.
Chanting arcane words with a desperate urgency, knowing that every second was another infinity of torture for her, Arc passed his hands through the arcane motions, unwilling to succumb to the pain that grew with the proximity. That he could even stand it and still focus enough to recall the ritual astounded him, but if she could withstand it for so many years, he could endure it for a while more. Reciting the mystical litany, his voice grew to a crescendo as the incantation climaxed and the immense stone statue of the Great Dragon became scored through with cracks. Finally falling to his knees with the immensity of his torment, he looked up just in time to see the blinding explosion of her prison. The last thing he heard as the sky became blotted out by an enormous silhouette was the crazed roar of an ancient dragon maddened by an eternity of torture.
Arc smiled.
She was free.
Then the silhouette dropped down and the claw crushed him.
Arc nodded and turned away, trying to curb his anger. There was no point in getting angry. No point at all.
Then Arc felt the lancing pain shriek through his head again and he gripped the table with both hands in an effort to keep himself steady. The pain was accompanied by screaming howls of agony, begging for release, begging for succour, begging for help even as she herself was helpless, helplessly trapped in that cursed form that could not be called life, that cursed existence and Arc fought hard against the torrents of emotions and hurt to keep from being overwhelmed by the sheer power behind the wave.
Then the pain eased as suddenly as it had began and he could hear the world again.
This was no life.
Guilt rushed through Arc at the thought. Who was he to complain about life? He had no right to do so, not when she was still trapped. But he couldn't help her. Nobody could and Arc wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. For the sake of the world whose blind adulation did nothing to soothe her pain? They knew nothing of her burden, they knew nothing of what she had done for them!
Arc stumbled away from the table like a drunkard, unsteady steps hoping to find solidity in the ground beneath. Then cold hands grabbed his and guided him back slowly to his seat. Arc looked up to see Cora's pale skinned visage. Her small and dainty nose twitched in concern mirrored within the soulful depths of her eyes. She really did look like a mother at times.
Arc forced himself to focus.
“Are you okay, Arc?” She asked, her soft voice barely carrying across the round table as she took her seat opposite him.
“Barely. Thank you, Cora.”
“You called and I answered.” She leaned forward. “What do you need me for?”
“I.. It..” Arc took a deep breath to gather himself. “When was the last time you've eaten?”
Cora tried to hide her surprise, but failed miserably. “Eaten? You mean a person, of course?” Arc nodded. “Two days ago.” Cora paused. “I've been trying not to!” She added defensively. “I can control myself for a few days at a time now. But why?”
“I need to know your instincts are still sharp,” Arc said urgently. “Are they?”
“Yes. What is this all about, Arc?” She asked impatiently.
“It's about the Great Dragon.”
“The Great Dragon? But she's the Dragon Seal-”
“Yes! I know! That's why! We have to free her, Cora. She's suffering.” Arc pleaded.
“Arc, don't you remember those years? When we fought so hard to restore the Seal? When she offered herself up to be the Seal? Don't you remember the horrors that came in?”
“Damn it, Cora, I don't give a damn anymore! Let the world burn! They don't give a damn about her but she's suffering in there! She may look like just a statue now, but I can feel her, Cora, I can feel her screaming in there, I can feel what she's going through and I can't even stand a few seconds of it. She's been enduring it for twelve years, Cora, twelve long years and I can't bear to see her endure it any longer. We have to free her!”
Cora held his manic gaze steadily, before closing her eyes.
A deep, long silence separated them, a distant gulf from which Arc tried to reach across. It was an ocean of tears, memories pulled up by the waves like so much wreckage, the remaining debris of experiences past, shared trauma between the two.
Cora opened her eyes and Arc did his best to suppress a shiver, even as his lips formed a grin. He recognised that glint in her eyes.
“What hid in you could not hide from me,” Arc whispered, “Because it hid in me too.”
“You're crazy, Arc.” Cora murmured amazedly, her lips barely moving. “You know I'll follow you to Hell and back. Again.”
“Yes. What you were, I am. What I am, you are. I'm glad you've regained yourself.”
“Many would say I've lost myself.” Cora began giggling inanely.
“I would sa-” Arc collapsed forward onto the table, sheer agony coursing through his body, deafening screams resounding in his eardrums, almost as if his ears were going to burst and he could almost imagine the blood flowing out, thick, red, hateful, carrying liquid pain, oozing out because his body, no body could hold that much pain, Pain with a capital 'P', Pain personified, Pain alive, Pain all-consuming, Pain, Pain, Pain-
Then it passed. He heaved several deep breaths; the pain had been too great to allow him to scream, even to breathe and his lungs were aching, starved of air though the ache was nothing compared to what he had just experienced.
“Arc, are you okay?”
“She.. We need to get her out. We need to save her. Damn the world, damn the Seal. She doesn't deserve this.” Arc hissed. “Nobody does.”
Cora's cold body wrapped itself around Arc. “Let's get you out of here first.” She tugged him away. “Go on. We can't help her until we help you.”
“I'm.. fine..” He gritted his teeth and stood up with some effort. “Let's go.”
Orange, muted light struggled through the stained glass of the windows. Autumnal shades dappled the room, dying and fading, a precursor of the cold death of winter. Arc sat in an antique armchair, brooding like a bitter hen with eggs cursed never to hatch.
Cora had insisted they planned, much to Arc's surprise. So, she hadn't properly returned to her old self, Arc mused. Perhaps this strange in-between state of mind for her would prove useful yet. But planning had taken time and Arc was still plagued by the visions and tortured by the pain of her Burden.
It was going too slowly. Arc's grip on the armchair tightened, wishing he could be reunited with her.
“Arc?”
Cora's voice sent a strange tremor through his body. Cora was his friend. Cora was his ally. Cora was his helper. She was also..
He suppressed the uncomfortable ice within. He had no right to judge, not when he himself was getting closer and closer to the brink. Besides, he liked her. She reminded him much of his mother. But his mother had never torn infants apart from limb to limb-
Stop it, he told himself. You're not any better.
“Yeah?”
-bathing in their blood-
“Do you think we should call in others?”
“Who?”
-blood pouring into her open mouth-
“Vill, of course.” Cora frowned. “You still don't like him? After all these years?”
Arc shook his head, as much a negative as to clear his mind.
-sweet, succulent baby-flesh-
“Are you okay?”
“I'm fine!” Arc growled, one hand to his head, batting her away with the other.
Cora stood impassive as he gritted his teeth and animalistic growls sounded from deep within his throat like a challenge to an unknown predator.
“You're getting worse, Arc.”
“Who are you to say?” He snapped. “I'm becoming more like you!”
“Mm hm.” Cora smiled, suddenly joyous. “You're right, we don't need others.”
“I-”
Then the Burden struck him again and this time, Arc screamed.
Panting deeply, but with a feral grin on her crimson-stained lips, Cora leapt forward and deftly decapitated the guard with her dagger, its blade finding the weak spot between helmet and armour. Holding up her trophy and grinning at it, she kissed it briefly and tossed it down at the other guards as she continued running up the steps. Cries of dismay sounded amongst the guard and Cora laughed in delight at their despair. She expected them to be made of firmer stuff, but oh, how gratifying it was to be wrong!
Her light steps brought her quickly beside Arc, who had just bisected a man horizontally, bastard sword swinging around for another blow. She ducked and threw a dagger at a spearman, even as she drew another pair from her leather leggings to rearm herself.
“Arc, Arc, why don't you cut me a fine figure and be a dashing hero!” Cora cackled in a singsong voice, even as Arc cleaved a man brutally, easily slicing through muscle and bone. With a deep roar, Arc charged forward into the mass of guards and began sweeping a whirling howl-storm of death.
“A hit, a palpable hit!” Cora cried out exultantly as she used her twin blades to cut open a man's chest and then placed her lips against the wound, drinking out his lifeblood, tearing at the flesh with her incisors. The blood covered her eyes, blinding her, but it hardly hindered her as she heard the whistling sound of metal soaring in an arc towards her and she nimbly dodged the blow. Clearing the red from her vision, she saw a young- what fine features he had!- man crying aloud and rushing her with a broadsword raised high for a killing blow.
She sprang forward, a move he had not expected and she wrapped her lanky arms around him in a deadly embrace, twin daggers piercing him from behind even as she laid her lips upon his and began savagely ripping out flesh.
“Sweet, sweet meat!” Cora crowed gleefully as she pushed him down the steps and continued running upwards. They were so close, only a flight or two more, then they would reach her, the Great Dragon herself..
As if her thoughts had summoned it, a fearsome roar sounded, far louder and far more bestial than any human vocal chord could produce and a dragon slammed down from above in front of Arc. Its scales a brilliant, striking red- how like blood!- tinged with a metallic gloss, the dragon directed its baleful gaze down at Arc who was no taller than perhaps the dragon's head was long.
“Arc!” Cora called out. “Go ahead and free her! Let me deal with this lizard!”
The bloodlust and fervour of battle still shone brightly in Arc's eyes, but then a measure of reason reasserted itself and Arc nodded his thanks. Feinting a forward blow that would have left him open, Arc leapt backwards several steps down as the dragon took the bait and snapped its jaws where Arc was a few moments ago. The maneuver gave Arc time to run forward and past the dragon, who would have tried to claw him with its talons or bludgeon him with its tail had Cora not plunged both blades into the serpentine beast's nostrils. Its cry of pain was horrific but Cora did not stop there even as it thrashed about in abject agony. Arms akimbo, Cora gouged both thumbs into the maleficent eyes of the dragon, laughing insanely as she felt the vitreous jelly burst out and the dragon's cries became screams. Blind and unable to smell, the dragon charged forward in a haze of agony, no longer able to differentiate friend from foe and the guards rushing up the stairs were caught like leaves in a hurricane.
Cora saluted the dragon, licking her lips hungrily, then turned her attention to Arc. She was so intent on watching him commence the ritual that she did not even feel the sword piercing into her heart until she saw it protruding from her chest, impaling her from behind.
Chanting arcane words with a desperate urgency, knowing that every second was another infinity of torture for her, Arc passed his hands through the arcane motions, unwilling to succumb to the pain that grew with the proximity. That he could even stand it and still focus enough to recall the ritual astounded him, but if she could withstand it for so many years, he could endure it for a while more. Reciting the mystical litany, his voice grew to a crescendo as the incantation climaxed and the immense stone statue of the Great Dragon became scored through with cracks. Finally falling to his knees with the immensity of his torment, he looked up just in time to see the blinding explosion of her prison. The last thing he heard as the sky became blotted out by an enormous silhouette was the crazed roar of an ancient dragon maddened by an eternity of torture.
Arc smiled.
She was free.
Then the silhouette dropped down and the claw crushed him.
-End-
A/N: Hi! Yes! No! I mean, yes, I actually updated! But, no, I don't think I'll be updating regularly. See, nowadays when I type me stories, they tend to try and be longish. Read: novel-imitation. So, yeah, I can't exactly post my drafts up, I'm too insecure for that and you people should know by now that I'm not really the kind of person to post in chapters. I can't segment my writing very well, I'm afraid.
Aaaanyway, this little story was based off the Wikipedia entry of Drakkengard 1 and 2. PS2 games, I used to play Drakkengard 1 a long time ago. Fascinating, really. And so, I decided to write based on that.
Oh, perhaps it's obvious, perhaps it's not, but this was written in two parts. I wrote the first half a long long time ago, but then looking through my writing folders, I suddenly decided to finish up this one and so here it is!
Do comment, constructively would be the preferred adjective! Feel free to criticise too!
-agoraoptera.HomoLudenS
Aaaanyway, this little story was based off the Wikipedia entry of Drakkengard 1 and 2. PS2 games, I used to play Drakkengard 1 a long time ago. Fascinating, really. And so, I decided to write based on that.
Oh, perhaps it's obvious, perhaps it's not, but this was written in two parts. I wrote the first half a long long time ago, but then looking through my writing folders, I suddenly decided to finish up this one and so here it is!
Do comment, constructively would be the preferred adjective! Feel free to criticise too!
-agoraoptera.HomoLudenS
An update! You should tell us when you update.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, the starting was a bit odd. Why would a man be passing through a house? At least that what the setting appeared to be... If it were in public, why would they discuss such things in broad daylight where everyone can hear them? Also, cackling and singsong seem more contradictory than anything else.
On the other hand, the ending was good. It was unexpected. :)
Hope to see more writings soon!
-Wolf