Chapter 1
Blessing


It had been at least a week since Alya left. Thanks to her, the once listless spirit known to the living as Blitz Keir now had something to look forward to; a joyous reunion with his wife and child. Doubtless all of the Alliance would also welcome their revitalized comrade with open arms after the shock passed. Imagining the warm cheers and happy faces—especially that of his beloved—made the ex-soldier smile. After all, if a ghost could communicate with the living, then certainly there had to be some way to inhabit a permanent body. Dead ones didn’t seem to respond well enough, unfortunately, but there was still hope.

Tokumaru Kyô fused with the ethers upon his death and become an Olympian god, and though he could communicate with Blitz, the Heavenflame had no valuable information to offer. Whisking through the Alliance halls for less than a day after Alya’s departure in search of a willing host, Blitz eventually determined that the answer to his problems would not be found in Base 17. So now his disembodied, wispy, technicolor form raced across the fields, floating a few feet off the ground. Somewhere out there was a magical someone with the knowledge he needed, or even have the power to revitalize him. Perhaps that was too much to hope for.

Blitz’ spirits were high. Hope made any journey more exciting, and considering the purpose of his quest, success would make quite the tale to tell. I’ll miss being able to fly and walk through walls, though, thought the wispy spirit to himself with a grin. He hadn’t been so elated in a long time.

The enthusiastic grin soon faded. What lay before Blitz was a peculiar encampment; little more than a makeshift animal-skin tent supported on what looked like elephant tusks. That’s odd. The swordsman floated closer to inspect, passing over a classic bonfire which had recently been extinguished. As he approached, a warm yet uneasy feeling grew in his stomach. The tent’s wall allowed him passage, and Blitz found himself staring directly into the eyes of a beautiful woman. Startled, and still tied to his earthly customs, Blitz struggled not to yelp.

She stared right through him like any other person would. Blitz experienced a momentary disappointment, but quickly recomposed and looked the woman over. She was indeed beautiful in a cryptic sense—sleek black garments draped across her lithe figure, leaving a portion of one fair shoulder visible. Long, raven hair fell around a pale face bearing pert, darkly lips and large, forest-green eyes. Hardly the type Blitz was attracted to; but then, he didn’t consider death to nullify his marriage.

“Who are you?” said the woman, running a comb through her raven-black hair.

Blitz nearly flipped in disbelief. Had she spoken to him? He gazed into those forest-green eyes and answered in something bordering fear. Can you see me?

“Of course,” she replied, absently running the comb through her thick locks. “Do you think me blind?”

N-no, I… Words failed the deceased innate. This woman was the first person he’d met who could physically perceive him with any of five senses, aside from his former teacher, the Ominae. Blitz did not want to offend her and lose this unbelievable opportunity. It’s just that I’m, well…dead.

“That is so,” she spoke, her voice rich like lavender, “if you consider freedom from your body to be death.”

Blitz mulled over this for a moment, then decided with a frown that it was spiritualistic hippie mumbo-jumbo. Would he get anything helpful out of her? If she was a spiritualist, maybe she had some kind of spell. Still, it would be nice if I could talk to my wife once in awhile. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about how I can…

“Return to life?” she finished for him, putting down the comb and brushing the spirit aside, to his wide-eyed realization. Cursing himself, Blitz started to apologize for floating in front of her mirror, but the woman continued. “I am Eka Gudrun, a servant of the True God. There is much I know that you do not.”

A servant of the ‘True God’? Great… She’s not just a spiritualist, she’s a Christian. The thought was hidden, something Blitz had learned to do along his way, and there was no chance a mortal like Eka could hear. Care to share? he asked with a lopsided smile.

“Perhaps if you swear to make good of the knowledge I impart.” Eka turned to face him now.

It felt odd; the way those eyes focused with undeterred purpose on Blitz’ wispy form. Trying not to shift uncomfortably, he returned Eka’s green-eyed gaze. I have plans for it.

“Then you must come with me.”

Where? Secretly, he added, a shrine, or something? Better not be a sermon.

“Have faith that all shall become as it should.”

I have a history of making my own destiny, lady.

“You are dead.”

…Touché.

In the end, there was nothing to lose. There, hovering in the skin tent with this stranger, Blitz decided he would follow Eka wherever she led. The green-eyed mystic knew something, and if she was willing to impart that knowledge, sticking around would be more than worth the time.

***

“Sire,” called a silken voice drenched in professional venom which reverberated off the cavern walls. “My Lord insists.” The voice belonged to a woman with hair black-as-night framing a pale, stony face as beauteous marble, but cold enough to smother fire. A skintight, ebony dress fell to the mid of her shins and slit to the thigh.

“Your Lordship’s wishes conflict with my intentions for this world,” came another, far more powerful voice. Though muffled in the earthy cavern’s depths, it was clear by the rumbling that its owner must have been immeasurable.

“You are aware He will plaster you across a thousand planes, and yet you continue to defy His purpose?”

“I have not spoken at length with a living thing for times beyond measure, and would have it remain this way, yet you disrupt my silent peace.” The tone was dry as a desert, fully intentional.

The woman’s eye visibly twitched. “You mock me?”

“I speak my wishes, much as you speak for your Master,” replied the second being with diplomatic reserve. “In ages past, we were of one mind. Now He works in secret against me. My subject is selected, and he shall do my will.” There was a slight pause before huge shapes shifted in the darkness. Two glowing, white orbs appeared; though brilliant, they reflected no light from the cavern’s mouth. “Now begone.”

The black-garbed woman’s eyes flared to match those of her compatriot while slender fingers clenched in fury. Dim light flung throughout the cavern, illuminating its walls though hundreds of yards apart. Stony growths emerged from the ceiling, centuries old, for this cavern was more ancient than any on Earth. “You care not for the fate of this world’s security? If I carry out my Master’s will—”

“Dark Horizon shall fall, Milady,” interrupted the orbs with a momentary blaze that extended not beyond their own countenance. “But it shall do so without my intervention. Such is my will.” The orbs narrowed, focusing on her with newfound tranquility. “Take peace. I will not see my abode damaged.”

Bowing her head, less of respect than acknowledgement, the raven girl’s fists relaxed. “My apologies, Lord. It is unbecoming of a Lady.” The last word carried unrestrained disgust which she knew her associate would understand. She expected a reply to the effect that his deigning with humans was not implication of weakness. Instead she received utter silence; not even a disgruntled breath. “Very well, then. I shall take him from you.”

The cavern thundered violently. Stalactites shook loose and crashed to the ground, their sound inaudible under such great din. The sound shattered forth from the gaping maw of a creature who watched the planet’s birth; borne witness to the rise and fall of countless empires in their arrogance; and would see Earth’s final breath. This primordial roar was not a threat, but a warning.

Its recipient was gone, however; vanished without so much as a wisp of smoke. Wherever she went, it would be heard. That roar was a mark of the Great One’s authority and could never be ignored.

***

Far away, two draconic, black ears perked up. Master…? Urgency exploded to life in every vein; a message. For those in the know, its origin was unmistakable; anyone in the dark who could hear would be crippled for life. It was a cryptic message of importance that could not be conveyed in words. Without being told, he understood.

Turning to his companion, the black-skinned man took her elven hand and whispered apologetically, “I must go.”

She stared back, unblinking. “Yes. I know.”

He hesitated. “I’ll come back.”

The elven woman smiled, squeezing his hand. “Yes. I know.”

Briefly, he returned that smile, then took a few paces back. Two wings unfurled, and a dragon darker than a starless night sky shot across the heavens.

Grassy expanses fell away and turned into green blurs as Drake Keir’s heavy wings beat the air. The message’s meaning was vague, but Drake knew this was the very reason he was taken under the Great One’s employ. Nothing was more important to his life’s purpose than right now.

You were taken under my wing and given a curse as well as a gift. Suffering unknown to any but you and your Lord has passed between us, forming an unbreakable union of mortal and god. Long you asked “For what purpose?” and I bade you wait. Behold! Your culmination comes.

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[ All hail Discordia! ]