Dreams of the Quill

by Flak

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“Zukro… can you stop fate?”

Zukro stopped in shock. It had been eleven years since his defeat at Ji’Lopan’s hands in Verga. One of the things he’d puzzled over all this time was how the traitor Ly’ban had bested him. He had never sought out the demon, plagued with his own form of fear, but now, brought together by coincidence, he was excited.

“Ji’Lopan.” He grinned broadly and took two steps closer to the place where the Ly’ban stood. “I’ve wanted to ask you, for some time now, but-”

“Zukro! I need you to stop Fate!” the Ly’ban cried.

“To help you?” Zukro guffawed. “I’ll help you. I’ll help you explain to me.” He stretched out his wings and fanned them, feeding the fires of the Net, before leaping into the air and diving directly to the brink of the Ly’ban’s pit. He knelt down on one knee, leaned in close. “I’ll help you explain to me where you got that power!”

“Please Zukro! I’ll do anything!”

“Stop messing with me!” Zukro howled, punching the ground at his side with one massive clawed hand. “TELL ME!”

“It is in your interest as well.”

Zukro closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The fool!

“If you don’t tell me-”

“Maha will benefit!” It was only then that Zukro realized that the Ly’ban had ceased trembling. It was only then that Zukro realized that the Ly’ban’s image shimmered like a mirage, so great was the determination of the traitor. For the first time in a long time, Zukro felt hot. This guy isn’t a joke, he reminded himself.

“Maha? As good as rock, the soul imprisoned in the Monolith does not have any power.” Zukro spat, trying to maintain his unconcerned facade.

“But you are his lieutenant,” Ji’Lopan chided. “You must do what benefits your master.”

“He is no master of mine.”

“Then whose are you, lost son of Bane? To whom will you go running now? Who will take you in this time?”

“I am my own,” Zukro growled.

“You are responding to what I’m saying, Zukro. You must know what this means.”

“You’re sure acting high and mighty,” Zukro said even as sweat covered his body in a fine sheen, “for one so low, who should be cowering.”

“And you’re sure acting confident,” Ji’Lopan smirked, “for someone who’s lived a few millenia too long.”

“No number of millenia is too many for Time! I-”

“You keep responding, Zukro,” Ji’Lopan sighed. “You know, you don’t need to lie to make anything alright. If you’re a traitor, as I am, no one minds weakness-”

“Don’t compare me to you!”

“But you’re the same as me. And the same as Maha, and the same as Bane, and the same as those beneath us. We’re all magnificent at this game, are we not? This game of betrayal.”

“Those beneath us? Don’t make me laugh! Who’s beneath you? Look at those beneath me… the entire Inferno. What? Jealous that the Ly’ban didn’t follow you when you betrayed? I’ll tell you this. I serve neither darkness, nor that old timer, Chaos, nor Maha. The Inferno… that is what I serve. What I rule, I serve. Fitting, no? I will lead the Infernals, and put this plane and a multitude of others to the flame. Don’t get me wrong, Ji’Lopan. It’s not like I don’t have regrets. I regret every moment I spent alongside Maha. I regret the second in which my sword rent Legend’s flesh. But no matter how I try, I can’t undo myself. I can’t go back. This is who, what, where, and how I am. And I will destroy all that would oppose me!”

“You know, the Legend kid thought, this whole time, I was training him to fight for the Inferno. Funny, is it not? The truth is… something as weak as the Inferno actually could use someone as weak as him.”

“You’re wasting time, Ji’Lopan. From the beginning, it would seem, you knew this wouldn’t end with me doing what you said.” Zukro had calmed himself a bit.

“Of course, but all this time I was under the impression you would attack me first. My apologies for slowing you down, Time. Were you waiting for me?”

“Pyrate,¹” Zukro muttered, almost under his breath. For a brief second, the Ly’ban’s red mouth smiled, and then the pit was filled to the brim with searing red flames.

“E Pyre fa,²” came the rasp of the armored demon, and as if a winds had begun to stir up around him, the flames spun away, hugged the edges of the pit. “My turn.” The Ly’ban jumped straight up, out of the furnace, wielding his dazzling sword. “Ky’Tysen!³” A bright lance of purple light shot from the end of the Kaiblade and then twisted, aiming for Zukro’s arm.

“Byran, Ky sendro fa!⁴” Zukro roared, and the tentacle of taint turned away from him and shot off into the distance. “Pyr’zeki.⁵” Suddenly, there was a greatsword made entirely of flame in his hand. The Ly’ban’s helmet’s eyes flashed an energetic crimson, and its mouth pulled back in a grin as the demon landed outside the pit and stuck its sword into the ground.

“Bring it on, Time!”

Zukro dashed towards the Ly’ban, bringing his sword back for a strike. But even as he was half a step from his opponent, that mouth moved quickly, and quietly. “Kai’Tysen.⁶” The ground beneath Zukro began cracking, and he jumped back just in time as dozens of small, black and white oozy-looking tentacles pushed through the surface of the Net.

“You thought you could get me with that? Don’t make me laugh!”

“I already did,” the Ly’ban said, and suddenly Zukro was aware that his opponent was directly in front of him, and the pit behind. A heavy kick shoved him into the hole, and he didn’t fail to notice the sides of the pit cracking. “You’re as good as food for my energy,” the Ly’ban cackled.

“We’ll see what’s food for what!” Zukro cried. “Frego!⁷” All the fire in sight vanished as if sucked into a vaccuum. The Net was devoid of warmth. All the flames, every spark, had been displaced. The Ly’ban looked down with amusement. In Zukro’s free hand, a tiny, madly-spinning, white-hot orb fought for freedom.

“Your focus is that large? You can’t concentrate any further?” Ji’Lopan laughed. “FREGO!” The earth around Zukro crumbled away as hundreds, thousands of those tiny black and white tentacles emerged, before all vanishing at once. The Ly’ban, still swordless, stood at the edge of the pit, now just a huge crater. He smirked. “You can’t even see mine. It might be in front of your eye, or by your ear, or at your throat, just waiting to explode.” He held his hands, palms out, for emphasis.

“Will you blow it up, then?”

And Zukro dashed up the much more gradual slope of the crater, towards the Ly’ban, readying himself to drive his focused energy into Ji’Lopan’s chest. It was impossible for the Ly’ban’s energy to completely disappear like that, even the tiniest speck would shine brightly. Zukro smiled, baring a row of fangs, as the Ly’ban jumped back twice, worry written all over its helmet. Zukro paused, knowing he wouldn’t be able to strike home with this attack, and instantly the Net was ablaze once more.

“I guess I shouldn’t play around, huh?” Ji’Lopan asked, drawing his sword.

“No, you shouldn’t.”

In one fluid movement, Ji’Lopan recovered his balance, moved forward, and swung out with his right arm, Zukro taking a turn to move back. But Ji’Lopan has calculated that, and he took one soft step, bring himself closer once more. He swung wildly, and Zukro barely dodged in time. Again and again, he stepped and swung, keeping his eyes on his target at all times.

After a few minutes of this, the Ly’ban’s shining blade was stopped in mid air by an invisible barrier. Zukro guffawed, inches away from the sword, content with how the Ly’ban was straining to break through. And then, with a deafening crash, the barrier shattered and the blade sought out its quarry. Zukro couldn’t move fast enough, and a small gash appeared on his forehead.

The Ly’ban swung again, infused with a feeling of iminent victory, and went entirely off balance as the weight in his hand changed. Ji’Lopan looked down at his sword. To his horror, it was golden, and the heat of the Net itself was melting it. Zukro smiled diabolically at Ji’Lopan.

“Remember who it was who taught you that trick, traitor?” Zukro asked, ferociously. “I did! The transmutation of anything into unalloyed gold. It can make even Maha’s blades useless. Now, you die!”

The Ly’ban acted quickly, and used the momentum caused by his losing balance to spin around. A deep wound appeared on Zukro’s chest, and then another, all in a flash of purple. Zukro fell to his knees, coughing up blood onto the broken soil. Wincing, he looked up at the demon. Held tightly in his left hand was a sword made of purple energy.

“Why you! Who taught you that?” Zukro asked, in disbelief.

“No one. Now, for your death, I’d like to arrange a few things… the heat of a smithy.” Ji’Lopan snapped his fingers, and the Net’s fires grew warmer. “The blade of a killer. Now, what was it again? Ah yes.” The purple weapon changed form, becoming the very image of Zukro’s old longblade. At least eight feet long, and no more than an inch and a half broad, for its point to rest beneath Zukro’s chin, Ji’Lopan had to pull his own arm back. “Enough blood on the ground?” Ji reached out with his right hand, having discarded the useless hilt of his Kaiblade, and made a gripping motion. Zukro felt as if his body were being squeezed, and blood oozed from his wounds in profusion. He cried out in agony, only serving to widen the red smile of the Ji’Lopan’s helmet. “It’s ironic, is it not, Time? No matter how I recreate the scene, the effect will not compare. I have no control over time, I can not torture you as you did Legend.”

Zukro gritted his teeth, and then his throat was impaled. The power of the Taint spread through his body, silencing its every function. Ji’Lopan stepped back, both hands empty, looking down at the pile of ash that had once been the first son of Bane. Content with the results of the fight, he turned quickly, his Ly’ban breeze blowing up eddies of sparks and embers, and strode off through the Net’s blaze.

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Footnotes (these are all spell-names in High Libran)
1: Imperative of “pyro”, to burn; High Libran for “Burn!”
2: High Libran for “I don’t burn”
3: High Libran for “Tentacles of Night”
4: High Libran for “Here, there is no night”
5: High Libran for “Blade of Fire”
6: High Libran for “Tentacles of Chaos”
7: High Libran for “Focus”

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Chapter SelectPrologueChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenInterludeChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter Nineteen

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