Chapter 12

The Legends

Sixteen Years Ago

“You act like it’s such a burden, Amelia.” Marcus’s lighthearted laughter transferred through the screen in front of him to the young woman on the other end. She slumped as Royston patted her back consolingly.

“It’s mission after mission, Marcus! Trade with meeee!” she whined. He passed off her request with another chuckle, waving his hand back and forth to indicate he would do no such thing.

“I’m the same here, you realize. Search and rescue operations.”

“At least it sounds exciting…” Amelia pouted. Next to the blonde-haired woman was Cynthia, rolling her eyes. Amelia noticed, latching on her side with fake tears streaming down her face. “What about you Cynthia? You’re not super-busy. Lead my group of Guardians.”

“And trade you into Frost Squad? Not a chance.”

“Amelia wouldn’t be very good in an undercover situation,” Roy agreed. The two men shared a good chortle at that, agreeing with the assessment. Or Roy did before Amelia socked him in the stomach and her hair lifted on end with the wind. “I’m only saying…you tend to pick fights more often than not. You’d blow your identity in moments.”

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not so useless as to sit inside running PR stunts!” Amelia’s fist was shaking, ready to sink back in should her friend decide to speak out against her. As usual, Marcus noted that Roy was smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut. It was one of his best qualities as a Guardian: silent and steadfast. Amelia groaned aloud. “Well, all right! Sorry for troubling you, Marcus. Guess I just want to let off some steam. Maybe I’ll beat up my squad mates!”

She rushed off the screen, and Royston dashed after her, screaming, “Stop, Amelia! You’ll kill them!”

“Whoever decided to make her captain of Tempest Squad is certainly ruing their decision now, wouldn’t you say?” Cynthia said with a chuckle. Marcus agreed, watching his best friend tuck her hair behind her ear while she adjusted the glasses she’d taken to wearing. She looked good in them. “Just a simple search and rescue, is it?”

“Some downed boats in the ocean. Quake Squad will be back before long.”

“I swear, Marcus, you’re the best of all of us. Always diligent,” the woman said. Even through the screen on board the Heron, his squad’s currently prized skyship, Marcus could see the admiration and love in the captain’s eyes. His fellow comrades saw it, too, many of them looking away to act as if they didn’t care. “Well, come back, soon. I…”

“No worries, Cynthia. I’ll be back. We can talk then. So, just wait for me.” Marcus offered a smile to the woman. She blushed further, her usual icy demeanor melting at his unspoken affections. She made a small noise and then nodded, terminating the communication. Marcus gave a happy chuckle, and then turned to face his current top lieutenant. “Where are we on those ships?”

“Scanning the sea now, captain,” the lieutenant said. He sidled up close, elbowing the man with a knowing grin. “You and Captain Frigas, huh? Getting super close. That kind of loyalty and love can’t be bought, you know.”

“Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do, lieutenant?”

“Nah. Teasing you is much more fun,” the lieutenant said in response. The snickers on the bridge confirmed that his entire squad felt the same way, making him flush with embarrassment. “Buck up, captain! We’ve got some sailors to rescue! Sea-searching is your favorite pastime, so you should love this.”

“Oh, be quiet!” Marcus laughed off, finally shoving his lieutenant away. He tried not to pay attention to the other good-natured ribbings, choosing to stare out the window to the sea below. Nothing was there but the water, and the calming, lapping waves that offered much reprieve in his mind, and a clarity of thought.

Each wave reminded him of home, and of the people there. Every movement of the surf instilled that long held dream to see beyond their tiny bubble. For a moment, he felt relaxed.

Then a shout echoed inside his mind, one he’d never heard before. It was pained, and restless, crying out. Marcus opened his mouth to ask who was talking when the Heron suddenly rocked with a heavy bout of turbulence.

“The hell is this?! Captain, we’ve got a sudden onset of a storm going on here. I’m not sure we can take it up here in the air!” his pilot yelled for him. Marcus held tight to the closest thing he could find, his head feeling like it was ready to split open. So many voices, crying out. Still, he grit his teeth, intent to drive them deep inside.

“Is there any land to find?” he asked, quelling the storm of sound inside his head to focus on the one without.

“Nothing appears on the maps, but the sensors…”

“I spot an island below, sir. Should we take her in for landing?”

“What of those we were sent to-?” Marcus’s question ended before it could finish. He didn’t need sensors, or for them to ask. He could see them. There were people down there, the storm crashing their boats deep against a shore and leaving them with no hope of return or rescue. They weren’t large in number, but enough to warrant a decent size of a capsized ship. “Take us down, and avoid the edge!”

“Captain!” they shouted. Marcus felt the weight of the Heron shift, pulling them down to the island amidst the storm. Battling with the newest voices, Marcus held fast. He’d heard them before, usually as a dull buzz or a hum, but now they were clear and distinct.

Mommy, help me!

My leg, the splinters in it!

Pick yourselves up! Me! You need to protect me!

Marcus rubbed his forehead, hoping to make them go away, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to do so. They were only getting louder as the skyship rocked further. Marcus glanced out the window to the crackling lightning and rapid thunder. The storm was large above their heads, determined to bring them down. He also saw something else in there: a white light…magic, itself.

His knuckles were turning white from holding fast, his eyes feeling drawn both in and out of their sockets in their search for what had caused the sudden storm around this island. He couldn’t determine much, too focused on not throwing up with how much the skyship was shaking in its descent. Amidst all of it, he happened to glance up, seeing another white light at the top of what looked like a castle. Other white lights populated the area below, coming from those that had been washed ashore.

They were the priority.

The Heron landed at last, and Marcus slapped his cheeks to stop whatever was stirring from within, leading his squad outside. Within moments, they were drenched by the storm around them. His comrades behind him came out in raincoats, carrying first aid kids and other pieces of rescue equipment. The heavy droplets bounced off the top of the skyship, some splattering downward to strike Marcus’s face. He threw a hand out. “Rescue everyone you can. Bring them away from the shore; it looks unsafe.”

“What are we going to do about this rain? Any more and that coast will swell to carry us away!”

“We’ll deal with that as it comes.” Marcus’s orders emboldened his crew and they ran for the beach. He stood back, taking stock of what had brought them here. As he did so, the voices resurfaced in his head, no longer able to be ignored. They screamed of how suddenly the storm had started up, and some of them were of the riptide their ship had been caught in near the falls. Marcus wanted to pry his head open and pull the thoughts out.

Except, he heard one more voice. High atop the ruins that Marcus could see through the fog. There was someone there, and their intentions were not nearly so pure. He grabbed his lieutenant.

“Make sure they’re safe.”

“What are you doing, sir?”

He provided no explanation, trusting his subordinate to handle all things. Walking along the edge of the island, to the ruins that sat upon them, Marcus had to be careful of his steps. Some of the land looked to be crumbling into the sea, eroded away with the ages. From where he stood, the falls to the edge of the world could be seen, though he certainly hadn’t remembered them being so close to such islands as a child. Marcus obliterated the disturbing musing to focus on what he wished to find out.

The ruins on the island were sprawling; that was the first thing he remarked upon when he stepped inside. Those little voices started up again, quieter but no less pervasive, whispering of times long gone. They put a slow to his steps, aided by his desire to not slip on the rain-slicked stairs. That light he’d seen earlier, coupled with the voice, was getting ever closer on his climb.

Said climb was brought to a halt when he reached an open room, the storm battering it, but something most illuminating was displayed with every flash of lightning. There were murals here, the likes of which he’d never seen before.

“History?” he asked aloud to no one. The murals, too, whispered back to him. He dropped to his knees, no longer able to stop the mass of voices that were overtaking him. Marcus crawled forward to one of the murals, an exquisite artwork upon it of seven weapons. “They couldn’t be…?”

He’d, of course, heard the rumors of the Legendary Weapons, but had long written them off as just that. There had never been any true proof there were seven, or what they were or what they could do. It was all some myth for the scholars of Lacardia to study, and nothing more. Here, however, was a tapestry, and Marcus touched his hand to its surface. The voices inside exploded outwards.

I want to go home!

Bring them in. No one is left behind!

Me, first, you idiotic fools! Don’t help them!

Selfishness. Altruism. Pain. Despair. All of it coalesced inside Marcus with a feeling he’d never known. Deep down, however, he came to realize just what was now coming to grip him in its entirety: magic.

He forced himself to stand, his hands shaky as he faced the light further up, continuing to climb the stairs. The voices on the beach were overtaken by another, repeating a singular phrase over and over.

Praise be the goddess. She protects us.

“The goddess…” Marcus grunted out, and he almost fell. The clatter made by his movements drew the attention of those in the room at the top. The robed figures froze in his wake, turning their heads, while a couple became defensive, ready to strike at their interloper. “Are you causing this storm?”

“Who are you? What do you want?!” one of them screeched. Marcus intended no ill will, holding his hands up in an effort to prove it. “We want no outsiders here.”

“There’s no reason to be afraid. I’m Captain Arrant of the Guardian Corps. We came here on a mere search and rescue mission,” Marcus told them all. They backed up, and above, the storm weakened. Only the man in the center refused to back down, coming towards him instead. “All we’re trying to do is rescue those who landed on the beach. Are you in need of rescuing, yourself?”

“Those who are on the beach do not deserve rescuing. They have been deemed by the goddess as unworthy of the next world.”

“Unworthy? Next world? Do you mean what lies beyond the falls?” Marcus’s questions seemed to be silencers on the room at large. More of the robed figures backed away, frightened by his presence, and of their leader’s murderous intent. Marcus could tell that kind of bloodlust anywhere. “Is that what the murals speak of?”

“You dare tread on our holy land! You infidel!” The man struck at him, a dagger flashing out. Marcus made to defend himself, but found his arm locked as the man’s violent intent came flowing to his head as words, stunning him. The whites of the man’s eyes grew closer, and closer, until Marcus was certain he was staring death and fanaticism in its face.

With no time to draw his blade, Marcus chose to use his hands to save himself. He ducked low, and pressed his palms against his attacker’s chest.

A heartbeat. All he heard was a heartbeat. The man’s heartbeat.

Soon, it was followed by his hopes and dreams. His individualism. His ardent wish.

Marcus didn’t know what was happening, not at first, but upon looking back, he knew it was inevitable. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave so much of what he could do unfulfilled. His will…no, the very core of his soul, was stronger than that of the fanatic before him.

Their souls touched as Marcus held him there, and both their eyes widened as they realized what was happening. Marcus’s will overpowered him, and the man turned to light, vanishing on the air. There was a gasp from his fellows, and Marcus dropped to his knees, retching.

It hurt. His very insides felt like they were being torn apart. There was something else inside him; something foreign. Not long did it take him to realize what had happened. Right away Marcus figured out that he had been seeing souls. Countless books he had read mentioned it, but always as a folk tale; something impossible. Now, it felt more real than any documented sighting made it. He could feel the man’s soul inside him, unwanted. His magic, its quick light meager as it was, dwelled there, making Marcus fall back before he could help it.

Marcus screamed, his cry piercing the heavens.

The rain stopped, the sun coming out as his soul was wracked and tortured with guilt. He slammed the ground, tears forming while the rays of sunlight illuminated all, including an altar. Marcus lifted his eyes up, trembling at the sight of the blade hanging there. More importantly, though, were the mutters.

“The goddess’s powers?”

“Soul Magic…?”

“Is he an emissary? Chosen by the goddess?”

Both inside and outside his head, Marcus kept hearing these things. Chosen. Emissary. Souls. He didn’t want any of it. He didn’t want this. It was too much. Too much of a burden.

“Why? What’s…happening…to me…?” He wasn’t the only one asking that. The soul inside him was asking the same thing. Demanding it of him. Marcus grit his teeth, pushing that soul deeper down. He didn’t want to hear it, not when dealing with his new problem. Those in the robes approached him while he was down on the floor, and he looked up. He could see their souls. Their desires. “A better world…?”

“He can read our souls?”

Marcus didn’t know if that was all it was, but his body could no longer take the necessary energy, slipping towards exhaustion. The last thing he saw was the blade, mounted on the wall. Beautiful…just like the mural. A Legendary Weapon said to save and change the world.

His consciousness began to slide to oblivion, those lingering sentiments in all those gathered on the island coalescing in his brain. Their wish to protect this venerated land. The wish to safeguard it from selfish interlopers as the edge of the world came near. The want to go home. The want to see the goddess.

And that selfish fool below, thinking of nothing but himself, corroding the others around him.

Before he fell into his unconscious state, and dreamed of all that was to come, Marcus recalled his conversation with Cynthia, and their promise of changing the Corps. He remembered Victor Lacroix and his snide attitude, unbefitting of a Guardian, no different than the brat. And swimming in that vision was this weapon.

Soon, Marcus fell, and when he next awoke, his mind refreshed and his soul alight with magic, a burden and idea was instilled within, one which would soon grow.

He had Soul Magic, and he was destined to change this world; to see beyond that tiny ocean he watched every day, just as he promised.

Present Day

“How are you here?!” Meredith knew she shouldn’t have shouted, but the yell gave notice to her companions in the distance. She needed them here as quickly as possible, but prepared her body to fight. “How did you find this place?”

“Ugh, why are you guys constantly soooo stupid,” Maria groaned, flicking her earrings with their usual ominous jingle. Next to her, Caleb was cackling as he rubbed his hands together. Cario was nowhere to be seen, and Meredith pieced the puzzle together.

“Maria…” Marcus expressed, tired of her usual cavalier method of divulging information. Meredith saw it as a confirmation of how they’d arrived in the caverns. Caleb’s brief imitation of a smoky bird pressed the point in further. Marcus and Cynthia didn’t wear smiles like the others, though. The latter, in fact, snapped her fingers, icing the entire cavern in one go to prevent anyone from getting to them. Marcus came closer. “Now, I don’t intend to make a second request.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t make any request when it came to Eddie, huh?” Her bite was back in her, and Meredith found her hands closing around the Abyssal Blade. She didn’t want to use it, but every nerve in her body was screaming for her to fight. “Why did you do it, Marcus? Why did you take him?”

There were plenty more questions she could have asked, perhaps even should have. That one, however, was one she screamed inside. She needed to know the answer. Marcus just sighed.

“You know, every time I think you’re capable, you show me that you’re still very much a child,” Marcus lamented. He drew his sword. “I will not ask next time, Meredith.”

“Nor will I,” she responded in kind, the blade held, ready to strike in concert with the soul inside.

“Very well. I wanted Montgomery’s soul for its sheer magical power. That he could harness that many elements at once was impressive. And I needed magical power.”

“To control the world’s soul, huh? I won’t let you.” Meredith’s eyes darted from side to side. Her friends were on the other side of that ice, separated from her and leaving her far too vulnerable for comfort.

“Are you an idiot? You’re outnumbered four-to-one. You’re not exhibiting bravery here.”

“Hee hee, this is what Meredith Childs is like. Reminds you of your former friend, yes?”

“Shut up, Caleb.” Maria’s sneer didn’t deter the cackling Beastmaster, or stop Cynthia from her labored sigh in their direction. Marcus kept focus on Meredith.

“Yes, I do plan to manipulate the Great Soul. For that, I need power. I need the Legendary Weapons.” The hand not holding to his sword was extended, demanding that she hand over both of the blades on her. Meredith looked back. There was nowhere else to run or flee. All that beckoned was the endless ravine, or the waiting hand of the Reaper. Fight or die; they were synonymous all the same.

Behind the frozen walls, her companions were trying to get through, and Meredith sighed. There was only one chance to get out of here, and she knew she had to get Marcus talking for as long as possible. “What are you manipulating it for, anyway? To save it or something? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but-”

“I’m well aware that our world is sliding closer to destruction. Islands consumed, the sea shrinking in,” he said. He took a step closer, making Meredith feel cornered. She debated speaking with the soul of the Abyssal Blade, but held off. There was no time with the Reaper bearing down upon her. “I already told you why. The people’s selfish thoughts and natures have led to them not caring, and the Great Soul to be throttled until there’s nothing left. I plan to change that.”

“That’s delusional. No one can control the world’s soul!” Meredith shouted. Marcus was too close now, his sword pushing the Abyssal Blade aside. The blade’s tip approached her chest, rising and falling with every beleaguered breath.

“I can. I will.” His face was close, and Meredith remembered how it felt, so close to the Reaper all those times. She wanted to reach out and expel those souls from within his body, but her body was not in the position to do so. “Haven’t you understood yet, Meredith? We’re chosen. Chosen to change the world. Chosen to interact with the Great Soul and bring about that change. To bring an end to all conflict and pain. Isn’t that the Corps’ motto?”

“Bring an end to pain…” Meredith knew she shouldn’t, not with the blade at her heart, but she began to laugh all the same. The sharpness tickled her breast as she did so, potentially drawing blood, but she didn’t stop. “You think this stops pain? Look at you, Marcus! How many souls are inside you, wracked with the pain you inflicted on them? Don’t you hear their cries? Do you really think they want your better world, drenched in their blood?”

“Sometimes, you need to cut off a limb to save the body.”

“Yeah? You’d know all about that.” Meredith felt defiant. Her legs were still trembling under the cold and the fear, but finally, she felt she could stand against Marcus and his multitude of souls. Finally, she felt like she was starting to get him. “I used to think those were the words of a leader. All that talk about working as one, like a body. Leaving no one behind. The reality of it is, though, that it was just nice words to hide what you really thought: that your will and how you think the world should behave is all that matters.”

“It is all that matters,” Marcus countered her. He pressed forward, and she took the last step back that she could, a trickle of stone falling off the edge of the platform. “I tried to make for a better world through the Corps, but their selfish abandonment of all they’d sworn was disgusting. This is the only way now. I will use the Weapons, gain that power to control the Great Soul and turn it so that all conflict will cease; I will ease the troubled and divided minds they have. All will work as part of the greater whole for a brighter future, my own will guiding them along the way.”

“Go on thinking that, Marcus,” Meredith sneered. She lifted the Abyssal Blade, and finally knocked Marcus’s sword away. He jabbed forward, and she dodged under, backpedaling to gain some distance, only to find her feet locked in place by ice. It did nothing to curb her defiance. “Soul Magic doesn’t grant us the right to do whatever we want. It doesn’t make us any better or more special than anyone else. Rico realized that, and so should you.”

“Your wills were weak. Mine is not.” Marcus stopped, and with a wave of his hands, the other five Legendary Weapons appeared, circling around him, as if from nothing. “Now, I’ll take the last two from you, and complete my decade-long journey to free this world. I’ll bring it peace. I will save it.”

“Go ahead and try,” Meredith spat. She leaned forward, cracking against the ice that tried to restrain her. The souls inside Marcus were growing active, her own defiance sparking something inside each of them. “But you’ll find we’re going to save the world our own way, and it doesn’t include stepping on the corpses of those you deem as less special. Our wills are greater than yours!”

“There is no will greater. Not yours. Not the world’s. Not even the goddess’s.” Meredith’s eyes narrowed at his final statement, the man talking as if he had confirmed the existence of Crea, herself. It unsettled her for just a moment, but seeing the rebellious souls within Marcus, and the souls of her friends, ready to attack, she made her move.

“You sure about that, commander?”

Marcus made to finally take the Weapons, but his body froze. Meredith saw the souls, their individuality shining through, and Marcus collapsed, gripping to his chest. Cynthia and the two priests called for him. In that moment, all hell broke loose.

“Mera, run!” Emil was the first to come sailing out of his room, and Rico was just seconds behind him, each aiming for Maria as they socked her across the face. She went flying across the chasm, but righted herself with her mimicry of Emil’s magic.

“Rico! Where did you scurry off to, you little rat?”

“I wouldn’t be one to talk, snake. Your deception failed.” Rico and Emil landed, and the rest of the ice exploded, freeing all of Meredith’s remaining comrades from their rooms. Caleb faced where Bruce and Trent were coming from, creating the first of his creatures, only to have it disintegrate from a swiftly placed wind blade. Amelia soared forth, her body glowing red as she landed a stormy kick upon Cynthia.

“Well, Rico, you know what snakes do: they swallow you whole!” Maria shot forward, her kick rebounding off of Rico’s spear. Meredith looked to Marcus, the man recovering on the floor. It would have been so easy to try and rip the souls out of him, but she wasn’t sure how on her own. His gaze was sharpening, too.

“Mera, you need to get out of here with those things!” Vivian’s voice was close to her ear, and with a shot of enchanted air, Meredith felt her feet freed from their confines. She turned in the direction of the three exiting the light room. “Get her to the surface!”

“What about the rest of you?” Lovelia shouted as she and Emil slid up to Meredith. Rico jabbed forward, a cyclone matching Amelia’s blowing into Maria. He tossed his head back to his comrade.

“I’ll find your soul, Lovelia. For now, get those Weapons as far away as possible.”

“To the skyship,” Emily uttered in a hushed voice. Marcus’s hand was cracking the stone beneath them, and the souls inside were being bent to his will. Meredith deliberated no more. She turned, grabbing both Emily and Lovelia.

“I’ll guide us.” Her gaze was insistent to the Renegade, and Lovelia nodded. The women closed their eyes. Chaos reigned around them, the battle between their forces and the Order breaking pieces of the column and the very space they stood in. The familiar sensation of Lovelia’s teleportation, honing in on the magic signatures of those waiting above, began to overtake their bodies. Meredith concentrated on their souls, finding the surface and those that awaited. There was a familiar one there, but no time to contemplate it. They were squeezing through the air, teleporting upwards in a rush of pure white.

Just like before, the teleportation ended as soon as it began, Meredith’s chest unclenching and fighting back the bile in her throat. Her feet stumbled, finding themselves upon the rubble of Corps Castle in the fresh sea breeze. The light of the sun, now at midday, assaulted her eyes and it took her a second to adjust. When they did, they widened.

“Sal! Kenny!” Emily shouted, starting in the direction of her fallen friends. Meredith’s only relief was that their souls were still alive, and just knocked out and restrained. Meredith took a step in that direction.

“Look out!” Lovelia’s hands pushed on Meredith, sending her tumbling into the ruins. A whip of metal flashed out, striking the girl across the chest. Lovelia screamed, falling back and into the stone. Meredith gasped, but was relieved that Lovelia hadn’t died from the strike. It didn’t stop a second one from immediately coming at her, and the second she was on her feet, Meredith withdrew the Earth-Splitter. Automatically, she used both of the Weapons to deflect the attack, returning it to its sender.

She should have realized sooner whose soul had been waiting for them.

“Ray…” Her brother stood on the grass below her, his whip retracting until it reformed as a sword. Emily paused her progression to stare back at her former captain, knuckles whitening. Meredith jumped down one of the rocks.

“Mera…you’re here,” her brother breathed. Raymond matched her in stepping forward. “It looks like Marcus didn’t get the final two.”

“And he won’t.”

“I’ll make sure he will.” Meredith snapped inside. She stowed the Earth-Splitter away and twirled the Abyssal Blade in her hands, holding it backwards. Brother or not, Raymond was lost to her.

“You stupid brother…” she growled. Raymond’s blade flashed with lightning, the shape of it changing. She wasn’t going to find out just which form it would take, dashing forward. The blade in her hand heard the resonance of her soul, permitting itself to join in her battle for its protection. “Raymond, you stupid brother!”

She swung down before Raymond could finish transforming, and their blades clashed. Meredith planted her foot on the ground and ducked, sidestepping him to drive the hilt into her brother’s side. He gagged, but whipped around, the searing flash of electricity burning at Meredith’s arm. She pressed on, swinging her sword up to find it blocked. He held her there.

“Mera, don’t do this. Hand them over, and it’ll all be finished.”

“Like hell it will, Ray!” Meredith aimed for her brother’s legs, but he saw the move coming. He twisted his blade out, knocking her hands away and then elongating the sword into a spear that nicked her cheek. He wasn’t paying attention to what was behind him. “You chose the wrong side!”

“I-” Raymond’s words were cut off by Emily punching him on the back of his head. He tumbled forward, but righted himself to stare up at his lieutenant.

“Em…”

“Your brother is an idiot, Mera,” Emily said, tightening the brass knuckles upon her fist. “Taken in by Marcus’s flowery words and stupid sentiments. I thought you were stronger than that!”

“It takes strength on this path, Em,” Raymond countered with. His sword flashed with his magic, becoming a scythe that he held in both hands. “We’re creating a better, more peaceful world. That’s all Marcus ever wanted. Then we’ll rebuild the Corps, the right way. The way it should have been.”

“Shut up!” It was the only retort Meredith could think of. She and Emily set off, running straight for Raymond. He brandished his scythe, swinging it in a wide arc. Emily jumped over it, while Meredith slid under. Both yielded the same result, making an uppercut on their beloved Raymond that drove his head back and caused him to stumble. Meredith swung the Abyssal Blade, which Raymond blocked, only to leave himself open to another punch to the face. Raymond recoiled.

“Let me guess, Ray. He offered to put you in charge of his new Corps, right?” Emily asked. Raymond was forced on the defensive, twirling his scythe to keep her punches away from him. “You never were one that struck me as someone who aimed for power.”

“This is about peace, not power. Loyalty, not strength or authority.”

“Tell that peace to Eddie! Ask him how he feels!” Meredith roared. It was the briefest of moments where Raymond’s scythe rotations faltered, allowing Meredith to jab in and slice across her brother’s shoulder. His eyes clouded for a second, doubt within them, and Meredith realized that her brother never knew. It didn’t last long, regaining the clarity of purpose.

“He’ll understand, when there’s no more death, and this world is saved.” Meredith wanted to scream at him and his so-called loyalty that felt more like a blind grasping of the ideals Raymond wanted to hold to. As if the end result being ideal excused the horrible methods along the way.

“Raymond!” Meredith yelled, but now her brother offered her no quarter. His scythe became a whip again, and he flicked it out. Emily ducked under it, only for the second stroke to collide with her chest and send her reeling backwards.

She had never been the aim.

Raymond’s weapon hooked itself to the Earth-Splitter on her belt, drawing it out and away from her. She dashed for it, hoping to grab it before her brother could, both of them in a race for the relic.

Meredith might have stood a chance, had it not been for the figures manifesting but a few feet from the fight. One jumped away, their earrings clear despite the din of battle. The other was rooted, his hand outstretched, and Meredith had no time to dodge.

“Dark Gasp.”

Meredith wanted to stop her body, but it was already in motion, that momentum carrying her forward to the Earth-Splitter. She couldn’t put the brakes on it as the dark beam coalesced inside Marcus’s hands and fired, consuming both her and her brother. Her limbs went numb, her entire body unmoving as she was tossed away. Her brother was blown in the opposite direction, but both landed on the grass, rolling their way up to the sea. Soon as she stopped moving, Meredith tried to get up, but found it impossible, no matter how much she struggled. The only thing moveable were her eyes, witnessing Marcus bending down to take the Earth-Splitter with disdain.

“I never imagined such a soul could be housed in this blade…” he spoke, treading forward to approach her. Meredith realized that her hand still held the Abyssal Blade, but she couldn’t defend it. Desperation bloomed and she screamed to her soul and body to get moving. “I suppose that’s why they’re legendary. Is it any wonder that they protect the Great Soul, and the realm above?”

“Mar…cus…” Raymond croaked. Her brother’s complaints barely warranted a glance from his leader.

“My apologies, Raymond. You know you’ll be fine, but I couldn’t afford Miss Childs’s interference any longer,” he said. The Earth-Splitter now in his possession, Marcus waved his hand, the other five Weapons summoned to his side. Their souls cried out, those that were active, and Meredith struggled to stand. Feeling was returning, but it wasn’t fast enough when she watched the Earth-Splitter join the others. “I suppose the soul inside this one could stand against me, too, but this time I’m prepared.”

“You might want to hurry, Your Worship,” Maria said, seating herself atop the rocks with a grin. “Cynthia and Caleb won’t hold that group for long. They’ll be up here soon.”

“This won’t take long.” Marcus was now next to Meredith, crouching to wrest the Abyssal Blade from her grasp. She kicked her leg, sensation returning to it, but not enough to stop Marcus from obtaining the object of his search. Her arms tingled, and Meredith tried to bring herself up. Her enemy paused, as if he wanted her to try, just to attempt to stop him. Or maybe, she realized, he was watching the sea, ebbing and flowing with a humbled presence. Neither thought deterred Meredith. “Take a good look. This sea will soon be rife with life. This world will be born anew very soon. Prepare yourselves.

“We go to meet the goddess, and change the world.”

“MARCUS!” Meredith screamed, his name tearing itself from her lips with a guttural roar. Her feet were moving again, as was her brother, moving to intercept her. On the rocks, a light appeared, coalescing as Rico, dashing for their foe. Maria somersaulted out of the way, yelling for her leader, but Marcus paid no attention.

His mission was all but over.

The seven Legendary Weapons came to surround Marcus, each glowing with their element, shining with a bright light. They circled him, under his command and control as the man turned his eyes to the sky.

“Now, come together, Weapons. Fulfill what you were created for. Bring us to the realm above, and the soul below. Rend heaven and earth.”

Blood rushed to Meredith’s ears, her feet padding on the grass.

Rico jumped for Marcus, his spear out with a grim expression.

Raymond dashed in front of Marcus, taking his sister’s fist to the face, but never relenting.

Maria watched, a giddy giggle erupting from her lips.

Emily raised her head, uttering a soft, “No…”

Marcus, however, was unfettered by all surrounding him. The souls inside the blades reacted, bouncing all over the place, their power siphoned into one spot of Marcus’s hands. He lifted them up towards the sky, each layering on top of one another.

He smiled.

Then he slashed the gargantuan weapon forth, the Weapons’ powers held fully to bear and exploding as he did so. He gave but one command.

“SUNDER!”

The earth rumbled. The seas churned. Rico and Meredith were upon Marcus, but didn’t manage to reach him.

Then the sky flashed, and in an instant, everything disappeared.