DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc. of Soul Calibur belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to them.
As the lightning falls By YF-21
"" denotes speech
denotes emphasis/thoughts/flashback
Chapter 1
The thunderclap roared and the lightning fell to the ground. Unholy power darkened the skies. Screams and flames engulfed the once peaceful village. The slaughter. The massacre. The stench of the bodies filled the air, the land despoiled beneath the warm carcasses. Those villagers fortunate enough to escape the carnage ran for the mountains to never return, for the harbinger of death was in town.
There was no mercy. Men, Women, Children. It made no differences between them. They were all the same for the infernal weapon, they would all calm its insatiable hunger. The massive Soul Edge moved around the air, hacking and maiming - its wielder instantaneously executing anyone in their way or sight. As the fire spreaded from house to house, the screams of the helpless villagers formed a true symphony of pain. Soul Edge left nothing in its wake but destruction, death and despair.
The man´s body slammed the brick wall, his whole being writhing in pain. Although the sheer force of the impact threw him away, Rothion had miraculously managed to deflect the attack with his shield – the fact that his head was still attached to the rest of his body the proof of it.
"Aren´t you going to attack?"
Still on the floor, the young man rolled over to dodge the next strike, meant to cut him in half.
"She would want you to live, Rothion."
The blacksmith stood up again, bringing his battered hoplon to block against the next wave of attacks. The constant defense took its toll on the man, as it became harder and harder to keep up with the blade´s relentless assault. Finally one of the attacks got through, making a gash on his right arm. Rothion couldn´t help wincing as blood profusely flowed from the wound.
"Do something about it."
But the man knew. There was no way he could fight. There was no way he would fight her.
Where once emerald eyes shined, crimson eyes now burnt, as red as the blood. The golden hair turned into a decayed gray one. The sickly pale skin seemed to glow before the fires around them. Sophitia Alexandra became a shadow of her former self; the very weapon she had sought to destroy was now in her hands – her mind and body corrupted by its twisted whims.
Sophitia swinged the massive sword against the man and the weapons clashed and locked; both fighters pushed forward, their faces only inches away from each others.
"Sophitia, are you there!" Rothion pleaded. "You have to listen to me, please!"
Her face betrayed no emotion. The expresionless pools of her eyes returned him a blank stare. Rothion couldn´t believe that this was the same girl he used to know - what had happened to her!
“Just because her eyes are open doesn´t mean she´s awake.”
The eye above the hilt of the infernal artifact suddenly opened, the yellow, horrid orb glaring at him. Shocked by the sickening glance, Rothion lost all concentration and soon found himself on the dusty floor.
Sophitia effortlessly rose the demonic blade above her head. Not giving the blacksmith a moment of respite, the maiden brought the sword down in a vertical arc, forcefully digging the tip next to the fallen man. Rothion paled - she could have killed him there.
“I grow tired of this nonsense. If you don´t start fighting, mortal,” The dark voice in his mind warned. “I might stop playing.”
The man felt his strength, his resolve fading in the eye of the wicked blade. It was a terrifying sight. So close to it, he managed to see his own reflection in the pulsing orb and despaired. As the infernal artifact tore through armor and flesh alike, its glare ripped through the minds of its would-be victims, filling their hearts with dread and panic. Those who found themselves trapped in the sorcerous stare could only quiver in fear before the blade proceded to collect their souls. Unable to take his eyes off it, the orb held Rothion in place, devouring him alive.
It blinked. “What does she see in you, anyways?”
S-Sophie...
An image of her flashed before his eyes. Images of times past and chances lost. Trembling, he looked up to her and what he saw pained him. It couldn´t be – this wasn´t the girl he used to know. The Sophitia he knew was full of life. This shade standing besides him wasn´t her.
“It is her.” The voice reassured him. “Aren´t you glad to see that she´s finally home?”
The whisper brought him back to reality. With his heart beating in his ears, Rothion got to his feet as quickly as he could and kept his distance from both girl and sword, eyes averting the dreaded visage. “You!” He snapped. “What have you done to her!”
Sophitia spared him no glance as she lifted the massive blade from the dirt.
“Answer me, damn you!”
The maiden returned him a vacant stare. There was no emotion in her lifeless eyes. No doubt, nor remorse. She parted her lips a bit, but closed them again.
“She still longs for you, Rothion.” It whispered. “Don´t keep her waiting.”
She now faced him fully, her hands on the wretched thing. Rothion´s eyes caught the bizarre clamp-like appendixes emerging from the blade´s hilt, holding her right hand still. He understood then. Sophitia wasn´t holding the sword, but the demonic weapon was attached to her instead.
The girl took a fighting stance. Preparing himself for the inevitable, the blacksmith rose his shield in anticipation.
He frowned. “Why.”
Mockingly, the voice answered him. “Why not?”
Biting anger set into the blacksmith´s chest. All this was a game for the wicked sword. “By Hephaestus, monster, I swear tha-“
“A pawn is a pawn.” It cut in. “What difference does it make who it serves?”
Rothion gritted his teeth. It was referring to her. “She is not a pawn.”
“She is what she is. An insignificant martyr - bred to suffer and born to die.” It said despectively. “Just like the rest of you.”
Rothion shot the blade a glare that would have reduced most men to ashes, if that would have been the case. Angered, he realized that the pulsing eye seemed to no longer have any power over him. “She´s a chosen one,” He rose his voice. “summoned by the Gods-”
The dark tone came before his. “He sent her to die. She knows so.”
“...to destroy you!”
“Indeed,” It stated as a matter-of-factly. “but it happens that I can´t be killed.” Rothion´s blood froze. For a second, he could have sworn that he had heard the voice chuckle. “Perhaps Hephaestus thought that where all those men miserably failed, a helpless girl would obviously make a difference.”
“Tell me mortal,” Rothion glared at it. There it was again. The chuckle turning into heartened laughter. “what kind of god would send the daughter of a baker to such task, if not for his own amusement?”
He ignored its remarks. “It´s not my place to question his decisions.”
“No, but you do anyways.” The voice reverted to an almost condecendent tone. “It is a pity that the priests didn´t let you go in her place, Rothion. You might have fared better than her.”
At this, the man´s eyes narrowed. How-
The yellow orb twitched. “I see more than others, because I know where to look.”
I... Taken by surprise, the blacksmith took a step back, remorseful thoughts gnawing at his mind. In disbelief, he switched stares between the blade´s imponent gaze and the maiden´s dispassionate one.“I wanted to go. I offered myself to go.” He looked hard at her. “You know this.”
“Why does that matter now?” The voice cut in again. “Why feel guilty at all? You only did what you were told to - and so did she.”
“...”
Hazel eyes trailed to the floor in shame. Rothion had been told to forge her weapons, and to wait for her return. For how absurd the whole idea was to him, he was no one to interfere between the comunion between a god and a mortal. And like that, he just let her go to find whatever fate awaited her.
That fate. “I don´t believe this!” Indignated, the blacksmith called out at the girl standing in front of him. “Fight it! Don´t let it win!”
Sophitia returned him the same vacant stare as before.
“You have to fight it, Sophie!”
There was a lengthy silence and none of the warriors made a move or sound. They just held their ground, contemplating each other. The wind started to blow and the dark stormclouds threatened to break in any moment. Anxiety filled the thoughts of the man, as he waited for any signal from Sophitia – a response, anything.
Finally, the girl parted her lips. “I...” Life returned to her dead eyes, but an eerie light seemed to irradiate from them. Sophitia stuck the infernal artifact in the floor and then took a step forward, her tiny frame dwarfing before the massive blade at her side. “I don´t want to fight anymore.”
Sophie...
Her red eyes bored into his. “I´m not a fighter. Yet he-“ She seemed to struggle with the words. “Why did he?-”
The sound of her voice; the soft tone, yet dull and tired. He noticed that this was the first time he heard her voice in two years – and cringed when realized that in his mind he remembered another all along. Rothion closed his eyes. In pain, the beast in his chest stirred and he wished nothing more than to comfort her, like long ago; yet when he opened his mouth, all he managed to say was...
The truth. “I don´t know.”
He didn´t know why she had been chosen in the first place. He didn´t know why she, of all possible people, had been entrusted with such endeavor. “But I know something,” Rothion opened his eyes again, and continued. “You have to fight it.”
“I can´t.” Crimsom eyes widened slightly. “You don´t know...”
He shot her a stern gaze. “Fight it.”
“I...” The girl broke the stare and the features on her face softened. “I wanted to go home. I just wanted to see you all again.” Sophitia directed her eyes towards the monster attached to her arm. “I have brought this upon yourselves. I couldn´t protect you from it.”
“You still can.” His heart pounded his chest, and the blacksmith pleaded to her. “Your parents, Cassandra, Lucius. They are all waiting for you. Let go of it and return to us.”
A sad smile. “They aren´t.”
“...”
“I´d die for them, so it made sure they died for me.” The girl looked at the man and begged. “Don´t die for me, Rothion.”
T-they are dead? At first, brown eyes stared in disbelief but then hardened. Rothion thought he had seen a flicker in her face, but it turned out to be something else.
“Please, Rothion.” Her eyebrows quirked. “If you kill me, it might let you go.”
“Don´t.” Though Rothion had intended the words as a whisper, they came out from his mouth as a growl.
“It wants to get rid of me.” She explained. “It can´t destroy me by its own means, so its looking for someone to do it. Anyone. You.”
“Stop it.”
Sophitia walked towards the blacksmith, dragging the monster behind her. Crimsom orbs looked him in the face and whispered, “I have bled for you. Won´t you save me?” Hundreds of words and thoughts were fighting to get out, but Rothion found that he couldn´t speak. This was not the girl he knew. Those weren´t her eyes, nor those her words.
“I´d do anything for you,” He told her. “but you are not her.”
The girl lowered her head, long strands of hair covering her face. Like a puppet waiting to be pulled of its strings, Sophitia merely stood there, devoid of life again. Disheartened by the display, Rothion looked away, but the insidious voice of Soul Edge boomed in his mind. “I do not intend to possess this vessel for long.” It told him. “Thrust your sword into her chest and show her your mercy, for I´ll have none.”
The blacksmith looked at the girl in front of him. Where dozens of veterans had failed, a green girl had survived, and that was a feat big enough. And if she had survived her divine quest once, Rothion had faith that she would survive this. Despite the terrible odds, the man found himself smiling - he wouldn´t give that demon the slightest of pleasures. He disarmed himself, his short sword and shield falling into the dirt. “You want her dead?” He grinned. “Kill her yourself.”
“I see.” The horrid eye sneered. “Then the love you feel for her is as skin-deep as theirs. I´m not impressed.”
“Say whatever you feel, monster. I will not condemn her to di-”
Rothion had not finished saying his words that the mighty Soul Edge cleaved him in half.
The body hit the floor in the same way like the others in the hamlet. Just like all those who had dared to oppose the infernal artifact´s will - and like those who didn´t.
“I´m already dead.”
Sophitia walked past the corpse and aimlessly headed back to the streets of the burning village. Drops of rain soon gave way to a full-blown storm. The fires died, and the darkness crept over the ruins. Among the carcasses and iluminated by lightning, a grotesque monument was erected – a twisted mound of metal and flesh. With its only eye resting over the unconscious body at its feet, the yellow orb of the void twitched - and waited.
