To A Thief - Chapter 37: Eternity by Damnation

The two catalysts...

Upper Jeuno

Gazo finally stopped above some roof tops in Upper Jeuno, keeping his hand on the hilt of his great katana and scanning the area calmly. Like Lower Jeuno, this place was up in smoke and littered with bodies, although there weren't as many due to the amount of people that had sought shelter in the palace. 

Just as he was beginning to believe that he hadn't been followed like he intended to be, he felt a sudden vibration under his feet from the roof. Just as suddenly, a growling Stiff burst out from under him with a Pulse Attack surrounding his dagger. He would have hit Gazo too, if he had only emerged about an inch closer. 

Gazo could feel the intense energy brushing against the side of his face as he was just barely quick enough to jump back and off of the roof, unsheathing his sword in midair and slicing at Stiff's upper shoulder. It barely grazed him. 

"Heh, that was too close," Gazo thought to himself as he landed on the ground swiftly and looked up at Stiff. "You clever little sneak," he smirked. 

Stiff narrowed his eyes and glared at the galka, ignoring the pain coming from the small gash on his upper shoulder as the energy of his Pulse Attack died down into nothing. "Gazo...!" He growled the man's name once more. 

"If you're so angry with me, do something about it," Gazo said. "Nobody's holding you back. It's just you and me, kid." 

Stiff didn't waste any time. Jumping off the rooftop, he began his sprint towards Gazo and threw himself at the man with an array of slashes and stabs, most of them clashing against the sharp edge of his katana and the others just missing entirely. 

After a few more failed attacks, Gazo clashed the edge of his sword with Stiff's dagger once more and ran it downwards toward the ground, sending the thief stumbling down. Before Stiff could even think to force himself back up or roll out of the way, Gazo brought his own elbow upward and slammed it down hard against the back of Stiff's neck, dropping him on his stomach and then following suit with a kick to the rib that was just as brutal. 

Stiff's neck felt as if it had been snapped back and then fixed into place. But before he could have even contemplated the pain, he received that brutal kick to his side. It sent him tumbling a few feet away, landing on his back and gasping for air as he clutched his left ribs. "S**t. I think he broke one of my ribs," was all he could think at the feeling of intense grinding pain that came from sliding his hand along the area and shortly after coughing out some blood.

"Heh, I guess it doesn't matter. I can break every bone in his body so long as it means I take him alive," Gazo thought to himself, readying his sword and starting a dash towards Stiff, who had barely any time to think as he jumped back up to his feet. 

Gazo didn't bother toying with the thief. He would simply go forward and do what he had to do. Left, right, left right. His attacks were endless. All Stiff could really do was try his best to avoid every single attack. He couldn't get away in time to think of another way to strike. His mind was constantly telling him to look out or to get away. He was doing a good job avoiding Gazo's attacks up until the swordsman decided it was time for a change in attack patterns. 

Stiff didn't like the way the air shifted as Gazo slid his thumb along the edge of his great katana, drawing blood and letting it drip down the blade. 

A hidden spectator watched the fight from an unseen spot, raising their brows at the familiar thief's face. "Huh? That's..."

Gazo jumped high up into the air and plunged towards Stiff with his great katana held downward. It began to glow in a strange manner, leaving brief trails of light with each movement of the blade. Stiff struggled against the pain in his side and rolled out of the way. After landing and pulling his great katana out of the ground, Gazo began a barrage of abnormal attacks, as if his sword itself had begun to swing on its own accord. 

Stiff could hardly avoid each attack, and was more or less grazed by each one as it came towards him. As the swings grew more and more abnormal, the light within the blade became brighter, until it began to form a series of elements. It wasn't until now that Stiff realized Gazo was throwing a long chain of Weapon Skills at him consecutively, much like Annie had done at the garrison in West Ronfaure. Only, Gazo's were on a whole other level. 

Stiff couldn't keep up like this anymore. The Weapon Skills were tougher to avoid each time, and the one that eventually nailed him pretty bad was one that he found physically impossible to avoid in close combat. This particular skill had unleashed countless little bladed wheels of light in the katana's wake as it would swing. Even though he tried jumping back and away from the sword's swing radius, the little rotating blades of light managed to connect with Stiff's arm and completely tear at it. 

He couldn't help but scream at the pain, jumping as far back as he could and thankful for at least a split second that they had let up and dispersed into thin air once Gazo lowered his weapon with a pleased look on his face. 

Stiff stood on one knee, too afraid to clutch the shredded skin of his arm for fear of blacking out because of the pain. His Brigade armor was just a mess at this point. "Ugh, that hurt..." He thought to himself, looking across at Gazo as his face held back the strain and exhaustion. "It's impossible to fight this guy head on. If I get anywhere near him, he'll cut me to pieces."

Gazo, for whatever reason, dropped his battle stance and put a hand to his chin as he smirked. "You need to show me more than that, catalyst. You can't simply let up now. Come, what would "Sister Eri" think?" He asked with a chuckle. 

Stiff's eyes widened in surprised. 

What did he just say!?

******

Port Jeuno

Draven struggled as he tried to push himself off of all fours, succeeding loosely and gritting his teeth as he turned quickly, turning with the hard swing of his fist but being stopped with ease by two firm hands. One grabbed his swinging wrist and the other latched around his neck. 

Daan lifted the young thief up high and then choke slammed him hard on the ground. Cracking his own neck and sighing helplessly as Draven choked out a grunt, he told him, ".. Give it up, little boy.. You can't win.. Not with the way you are now." 

Draven turned on his stomach and watched the blood dripping from his mouth form a tiny puddle under his face. Bringing his arms out and shoving his hands against the floor, he started pushing himself up once more. 

Daan frowned as he watched the boy attempting to push himself back up. He sneered and kicked him right in the face, making Draven tumble once again onto his back. ".. Give me a beak," He mumbled. ".. I'm actually starting.. To get a little tired here." 

Draven laid there, breathing heavily; his Brigade body armor practically torn off entirely from all the attacks that he had sustained. His undershirt remained however, torn. He looked up at the sky through half-open eyes and began to wonder if they were watching this. If everyone he had lost, was watching him. He didn't understand. As a child, his parents had always instilled hope in him. Told him that it was always there. 

Then they died. And when he met Vincent, that man told him otherwise. He said that there is no hope in this world. Only hatred. But for some reason, as he was being killed before him, Vincent changed his mind about it. That fact that he had told them not to give in, was that hope being instilled upon him once again. From a dying, tortured man.

But where was it now? Where is hope? If this is what life is, then he would refuse to believe in hope. Right now, he was hoping that they and Altana were watching. To prove that there was no hope after all. 

Daan shook his head at the half-conscious young thief and walked over to him, shoving the heel of his boot against Draven's forehead. ".. You want to know something funny?" He asked the boy. ".. I was once like you.. In my own little freedom fighting organization.. Making a place and name for myself in this world.. I fought for King Destin himself.. That old coot.. I was one of his finest," he paused for a moment, a wide smirk cutting across his face before continuing.

".. I always fought to ensure.. The eternity of our world.. But then IT happened.. The Great Crystal War," he said, an almost distant look in that crazy smirk of his. ".. Like most people, I lost everything .. I lost everyone I ever held dear.. And then I met him," he said, looking down at his hands and clenching them into fists. ".. The one who showed me.. That the eternity we all wished for.. Wasn't quite out of reach.. He showed me that everything would be made right.. With the start of damnation," he said, his smirk becoming a wide grin. ".. Ah, yes. Eternity by Damnation.." 

Daan finished with, ".. And so the wheels would be set in motion.. Starting with YOU.. And a few others like you." He pointed his long finger at Draven, who simply stared back barely conscious. "..I killed your family, little boy!"

Draven's half-open eyes suddenly widened as a rush of memories came flying back to him like a big refreshing wave. Things he had long since forgotten, or rather, things he had forced himself to forget all began coming back to him. Yes, it was all there. The faces and names of his mother and father. The woods he used to play in when he was a happy little boy that loved to laugh and catch furry animals to bring home to mother. The little girl he had a crush on that lived on the next cottage over and would occasionally hang out with. The fun nights he would spend dining with his mother and father.

And also, the last night he had spent dining with them. The same night he had woken up to their screams, frightened. Walking into their bedroom and watching them be cut down like cattle by a tall elvaan man with long, slicked black hair. The elvaan man who had picked him up by the neck and seeped darkness into him through a black pendant. 

"I'm so sorry, little boy.. Truly, I am," the man had told him.

That image of the black haired man zoomed right out of his mind and placed itself over Daan, who was looking down at him now in a similar fashion, only this time with a wide and psychotic grin and contrasting white hair. Draven could still hear the little boy in his memories screaming. It didn't take long before he realized that he was screaming and shaking too, having shot up in a sitting position and slumping over while clutching his head. The memories he had struggled so hard to forget; he could no longer push them back. 

Along with the memories that were pouring out of him, an absurd amount of darkness followed. Only this darkness he could actually see. The memories were all pouring out into his mind. The darkness stretched and seeped out of his body, spreading around him like wild fire and eventually enveloping him in a big sphere of black.

".. Yes! That's it!.." Daan smiled wide, joy defining his face as he laughed. ".. Accept the Emptiness! .. Corrode your body with it! ..Become our Catalyst!"

This went on for about a minute or two.

Afterwards, the sphere of darkness reduced itself into a black mist that rose out of Draven's body. He looked as if he was in pain at first, on both knees, but then he began to push himself with ease off of the ground. All of his open wounds were sealed shut, the evaporating darkness coming from where they used to be clearly seen. The young thief's head was lowered at first, facing the ground until he began to look up. His eyes, rimmed entirely in black- save for his blue irises -stared with the intent to murder, torture, and maim Daan.

Daan would simply stare in complete joy and excitement, leaning forward and smiling wide like a child who had just found a new bike or pet that they wanted to take home. ".. Oh! It's magnificent! Truly magnificent! .. This is the emptiness!"

Author's note: Sorry I don't have proper copies of this Draven sketch in his catalyst mode yet since my laser printer sucks, so I had to upload a direct picture of him taken by me.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/maico_aeon/6352627863/in/photostream/

(Copy/Paste link if need be)

******

Upper Jeuno

Gazo smirked at Stiff as he watched his disgruntled and twisting face from his spot a few feet away. The young thief looked as if he were about to cry or something, it was quite entertaining to him. 

"Sister Eri," Stiff muttered under his breath shakily, almost whimpering it. Those feelings from before were coming at him at full throttle this time. He had no idea what was holding him back. He was at a point where he was so filled with anger and hatred, that his mind had gone entirely blank save for the image of Sister Eri. His body seemed to be frozen as well. 

However, a dark aura was growing more and more apparent around him.

I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. 

This man; Gazo. He used to be friends with Sister Eri. 

And for whatever reason, he was responsible for her death. 

He told me that he was the one who led the attack on the orphanage that dreadful night.

He was the reason my Sister Eri was taken from me. He was the reason I've become such a monster. It was him who made me this way. He put this... this Emptiness inside of me.

My body... 

Something is happening... to my body...

I can feel the emptiness beginning to take over entirely. But this time, it's different. It feels like... I'm becoming the emptiness itself. 

My body is becoming... darkness itself.

"Oi, Stiff!" A familiar voice broke the silence in the air. "Y'need some help, matey!?"

It was Salnar. He had jumped out so suddenly it was hard to tell where he was coming from. Nonetheless, he held his own great katana out towards Gazo and didn't pay much attention to Stiff, so long as he was backing him up. Of course, he didn't realize what was actually happening to his friend. 

"Get out o' our town, ya bleedin' arsehole!" Salnar growled as he ran forward without thinking, sword held off to his side. 

"Are you kidding me?" Gazo scoffed, shaking his head and holding out his sword but not bothering to take a battle stance. 

" 'Ere I come!" Salnar shouted as he wasted no time and swung his sword at Gazo with alarmingly swift strikes. Sparks flew all over the place as both large blades clashed against one another. 

One particular attack brought Gazo to raise a brow curiously. Salnar rotated his great katana twice like some windmill forward over his head, then all around his body with no reduction to the force of his attacks. He walked forward while doing this, causing Gazo to back up a bit and actually having to try to block the blows. However, one such attack where Salnar suddenly spun his body around once in a final slash ended up nailing the galka right on the shoulder, giving him a pretty sizable cut. 

"Arr, that be just a warning cut," Salnar winked, giving a sly grin. 

By now, Gazo was completely infuriated by this fool's interruption. And the fact that he had actually been lucky enough to draw blood from him pissed him off all the more. With no intention whatsoever of continuing these silly games, Gazo ran forward and grabbed Salnar's blade as he attempted to swing it down at him. It cut into his palm, but he didn't care. Immediately after, he grabbed Salnar by the neck and hoisted him up, pulling away the young swordsman's sword and preparing to drive his own right through his heart. 

Salnar could do nothing but choke and struggle. 

Without further ado, Gazo promptly pointed the end of his katana right on target and thrust it forward. 

... It didn't go through. It took him a while to realize it, but then he saw that it wasn't the fact that the sword wasn't going through. It was the fact that another hand grasped the blade firmly just as Gazo had done so with Salnar's. But this hand didn't bleed or let up. Another hand grabbed Gazo's wrist, the one who's hand he was using to hold Salnar's throat. The hand was cold on his flesh and had an aura of darkness about it. 

The hands of course, belonged to Stiff. He stood there, clutching Gazo's blade and wrist hungrily, mouth agape and breathing heavily as black blood or saliva or whatever it was seeped out the corner of his mouth, black as tar. The whites of his eyes were enveloped entirely in black, with only his brown, dilated irises staring widely and sinisterly at Gazo. 

The only way to put it, was that he looked like darkness incarnate itself. He was snarling now, like some kind of creature, and slithered his tongue out as he forced so much pressure onto Gazo's wrist that he shattered the bone entirely. 

This obviously brought Gazo to release the choking Salnar, only grunting in pain and pressing his broken hand to himself as he jumped back, looking in surprise at the embodiment of emptiness that was Stiff. Like the other catalyst, Stiff's wounds, including his previously shredded arm were entirely healed.

"Amazing... simply, amazing," he thought to himself as he admired this creature before him.

Author's note: Sorry I don't have proper copies of this Stiff sketch in his catalyst mode yet since my laser printer sucks, so I had to upload a direct picture of him taken by me.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/maico_aeon/6352626991/in/photostream/

(Copy/Paste link if need be)

"S... Stiff?" Salnar muttered silently as he looked up from the ground at what he hoped was still his friend.

Stiff's head turned slowly towards Salnar, who sat at his feet in visible fear. A large, teeth-bearing grin cut across his face like a fissure splitting the earth. He reached down and grabbed Salnar by the arm, letting out a rasp roar with hints of Stiff's voice hidden within said roar in league with it and hurling his friend hard towards a building. The force sent Salnar flying towards the armor shop, crashing through the wall and going straight through to where many other survivors had been taking refuge, including Jakky and Horis. 

"Salnar! Are you alrrright!?" Jakky frantically asked as she tended to the groaning Salnar. 

"What in'a bleedin 'ells is a'matter witt 'im?" Was all Salnar could muster as the survivors watched the fight from the large hole in the wall. 

He didn't know what it was, but for once in his life, Gazo might have actually felt some form of fear inside of him. Something about this specific catalyst's transformation wasn't quite right.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Continued in Chapter 38: It's Not Over

Reviews

[okina]

I really liked the fight scene in this chapter! I could almost picturing it playing out like a movie. The illustrations of Draven and Stiff in their catalyst transformations were really cool too. You can see the crazyness in Stiff's eyes compaired to Draven's. Can't wait to see how the fight will play out in the next chapter :D