“What should we do?” asked Nessha to no one in particular.
“We move to
another realm and continue our search,” said Aeon determined.
“Just wander
Los-Reinar aimlessly until we find a Pit of Despair?”
“I am open
to suggestions; do you have something better in mind?”
Nessha’s
gaze wandered to the flameless frail form on Aeon’s back. “No, but . . .”
The ancient durandal shared her concern; Zendrius’
condition had been rapidly deteriorating for the past hour, so much so that he
was beginning to doubt that the young Dannar will survive the next one.
Persephone was in the middle of a sentence when she suddenly
fell to the ground in pain.
“My lady,
are you all right?” asked Azain as he rushed to aid her to her feet.
“Something
is wrong, my son is dying. This, this
should not be possible. Assemble the Living Blade, we have to go help him.”
“But my
lady, it is too soon. He is not ready.”
“Do as I
tell you!” screeched Persephone before striking Azain across the face; the blow
was not meant do any real harm, but it still brought him to his knees.
There was a
flash of anger in the taciturn man’s face but he knew it had been nothing but a
rash act of emotion. “As you wish.”
Persephone
walked over to the balcony as Azain left and thoughtfully stared out over the
white ocean. “What has happened to you,
my son?”
Zendrius struggled to open his eyes as the jostling of
Aeon’s movement brought him back to consciousness. “Any luck?”
“My lord,
you should conserve your strength,” urged Nessha.
“Are we
still in Shinra?”
“Yes, and
no we have not found anything,” said Aeon.
Nessha shot
Aeon a black look but the ancient durandal just continued, “We decided it would
be wiser to keep searching here in Shinra, since we do not have the time to
first go elsewhere.”
“Aeon!”
“It’s fine,
Nessha. I know I’m going to die soon if
we don’t find me those souls.”
“Maybe we
should transfer the souls we own to you?”
“No, these
conditions were created with a disturbing amount of precision. I already deviated once and look what
happened. I’d rather not risk making
things even worse.”
“But my
lord . . .”
“Nessha, do
you feel that?” asked Aeon as he turned his head to the mass of white liquid.
“Yes, what
is that?”
“What?”
croaked Zendrius.
“Something
is coming from across the ocean, an enormous mass of energy, an army. We need to run, they’ll crush us,” said Aeon as
he signalled horde.
Zendrius shifted his perception and saw it; hundreds of
green-cyan energy signatures dotted the horizon, the most intimidating being
the void-like black blotch at their centre with the patch of grey at its side. A wave of fatigue washed over him and just
when he was about to fall back into unconsciousness his eyes caught a bright
flash of blue. “Stop.”
There was
something in the tone of his voice that made Aeon bring the horde to an immediate halt. “What is it, Zendrius?”
The boy
gave a weak smile, “I’ve found a Pit of Despair.”
“What? Where?” asked the ancient durandal as he
scanned the surroundings.
“Beneath
us.”
Nessha
stared at the soil beneath her feet for a moment before falling to her knees; tearing at the ground with her bare hands.
“Don’t just
stand there, all of you begin digging,” said Aeon to the surrounding horde.
Instantly massive chunks of earth
were being ripped from the ground and thrown aside. Within half an hour one of the durandals
shouted that he had made a discovery.
Aeon and Nessha rushed over to the site and saw part of the spiralling
flow of souls through the hole the durandal had made. From what they could see it was clear that
this particular Pit of Despair was tiny in comparison to others, and then they
both came to the same realisation. All
Pits of Despair originate underground, beginning as small pockets that grow as
they gain souls, only becoming exposed to the surface when they had grown too
large.
“We found
it, my lord,” said Nessha before turning and finding that Zendrius had slipped
back into unconsciousness. “What now?”
Aeon
reached back without a word, took hold of his lord and tossed him into the flow
of souls.
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