Final Fantasy XI: Shadows of War

Author notes: This is a fanmade adaptation of Square-Enix's MMORPG Final Fantasy XI. And while I'd rather call this work something like an imaginitive retelling of the world and lore of the video game, it basically just amounts to fanfiction. It's a game I spent way too much of my life playing, but this story has been in my head for even longer, and I had to finally just start writing it. There's more of it for sure, but this prologue is the only part of it that's got any bit of polish to it. The rest is in dire need of editing or just nothing but some notes on a wordpad and ideas in my head.

Prologue

You could only get stung and bitten so many times before raiding lizard nests and bee hives for eggs and honey lost the allure of quick profits. Raiding nests was for galka. Their massive muscles and thick pale-green skin were far more suited for the task than a simple young hume like Nico.

His father had always said to work smart, so really it was his fault that Nico had gone to the windmill-dotted highlands with its flowery hills and vibrant green grass. And technically, he could still see the billowing smokestacks of Bastok’s industrial district, so he could count that as staying close to the city, so he was barely disobeying his father in the first place.

Nico picked up the chunk of raw silver ore he found. Miners were always making the trip from the highland mines to the city, and sometimes things got left behind; not that he had expected something as precious as silver. That alone already put him further ahead than two days of raiding nests in Gustaburg, and he knew he should have turned back home then, but he couldn’t pass up good luck like that.

Nico stayed away from the mines themselves; Aside from getting into trouble if any of the adults saw him, it was said quadav liked to make their homes in caves and abandoned mines. Some claimed the race of turtle-like beastmen could be as wily as a mithra and as strong as a galka, but as far as Nico thought, they were little more than dangerous, wild animals to avoid. And then there were the ghosts. His replica legionnaire’s axe was as sharp as the ones used by the Bastokan army, but he didn’t particularly want to test its edge against the phantoms that were said to roam the more dangerous mines in the area.

Nico ended up filling the rest of his satchel up with low-quality chunks of copper ore, which still would net him a pretty profit, and made his way to the crag. The massive bulb of tough white cermet, its trident tip towering over even the tallest windmill, had been built long ago by an ancient civilization known as the Zilart. What the structure’s original purpose had been was unknown, just like everything else about the long-lost race, but what had been discovered was that the crags were finely attuned to the Mother Crystal and made it possible for mages to teleport to them. It was a relatively new discovery that had made massive and jarring changes to the political and economic landscape of the world.

Borders suddenly became less secure, while transportation of goods became simpler, faster, and cheaper. The smaller niches quickly filled themselves with people looking to make quick profits, and several vendors had set up shops to take advantage of the new traffic the crags had brought. Nico could have rented a chocobo to take him back home, but even that wouldn’t have been fast enough to get home before the sun set. Likely, he’d have to spend a bit more for a mage to warp him back home, which would eat into his profits for the day, but it was a price he was willing to pay in order to avoid getting into trouble.

Nico was still a good quarter mile away from the crag when he felt the ground shake. He looked behind him for the source and saw a mithra cresting the top of a hill, frantically waving her hands in the air and yelling something that he couldn’t make out. Her feline ears pointed backwards and her matching tail twitched back and forth in rhythm with her steps. The brown-haired mithra looked about Nico’s age, though he couldn’t be certain as there weren’t many mithra in Bastok, so he didn’t have much for comparison.

The small tremors grew stronger the closer the mithra got, and finally he could make out what she was saying. “Hey!” she shouted as she reached the bottom of the hill. “Run! Go! Run!”

Nico gasped as he saw the head of a giant ram crest over the top of the hill. Three times taller than the mithra and himself, and half a dozen times wider, the black-furred ram was gaining on the mithra. She would be trampled by the beast if he didn’t do anything, so without a single thought or hesitation, Nico picked up a rock and threw it at the creature.

“Hey! Over here, you ugly beast!” The rock pelted the ram right above the eye. Nico grabbed another rock, but the first was enough to get its attention and it had changed course right for him. The ram was too fast to outrun, Nico knew, so instead he clenched his fists and stood his ground as it lowered its head for the charge.

Thundering hooves became a countdown as Nico calmed and prepared himself. Waiting just until the ram was right on top of him, he rolled out of the rampaging beast’s path. Nico exhaled out of relief as he quickly got back on his feet and pulled out his axe. If he messed up his timing by even just a second, he’d find himself skewered on one of the ram’s horns or trampled under its hooves. The ram circled back around for another charge and Nico prepared to dodge and attack again, when a sudden burst of fire exploded in the ram’s face.

The ram bellowed as it continued forward, blinded by the embers in its eyes. Taking advantage of the opening, Nico grabbed his axe with both hands and swung it as hard as he could into the beast’s leg. The axe sunk deep into its front leg and the creature let out a pained roar.

Nico’s excitement at the hit ended before it began, as his axe stayed lodged in the ram’s leg and he was yanked to the ground, betrayed by his own grip. He barely rolled out of the way as its rear hoof came down, and was left baffled as he sat up weaponless, as the ram circled back around, looking angrier than ever with his axe still buried in its leg.

“You don’t have anything stronger than that little fireball, do you?” Nico asked the mithra, who stood a few dozen yards away.

“You don’t happen to have another weapon beside the axe you lost, do you?” came a snarky reply Nico hadn’t expected from the timid-looking mithra.

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “Just try to slow it down a little when it comes back, and maybe I can get my axe back.”

“I’ll try to bind it again.”

Again? Nico thought. “How long did it hold it last time?”

“It didn’t.” If the mithra was worried, she didn’t show it.

“Terrific,” Nico muttered under his breath.

The mithra released her spell on the charging ram. As its front hoof planted on the ground, a coating of ice instantly frosted over it and the ground, and then crystallized- but the bonds of ice shattered the moment the ram lifted its leg, failing to stall it for any amount of time.

Nico cursed as the ram changed direction towards the mithran mage. He grabbed more rocks and threw them at the ram while shouting, but the ram ignored him. Nico sped towards the mithra, knowing he wouldn’t reach her in time, but trying regardless.

Suddenly, someone else stood in front of the mithra: A tall, imposing figure in a shining white and gold suit of armor. From the height and build, the person could have either been a tall hume or a short elvaan, but he held a shield nearly as tall as Nico.

The ram’s head crashed into the stranger’s shield, but the armored man only gave a single step back before completely stopping it. Confused, the giant beast reared for a head smash, but the armored man met the ram with his shield and bashed it right between the eyes. The ram bellowed, stunned, but while the armored man held his gleaming silver sword in his right hand, he didn’t use it. The ram ran away- ran away with Nico’s axe still in its leg.

The armored man sheathed his sword and clicked his shield into place on his back. “Are you okay?” When the man lifted his vizor, it became apparent the man was a hume, lacking the strong angular lines of an elvaan, though the armor he wore didn’t belong to any Bastokan regiment he was familiar with.

“Fine,” Nico said, out of breath and irritated at the loss of his weapon.

“I’m good,” the mithra added.

“You’re bleeding.”

Nico had a rip on the arm of his shirt and a small gash beneath. He must have cut in when he had rolled on the ground. “It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt.”

“This’ll only take a second.” The man’s gauntleted hand stretched out and a glowing aura bubbled around his hand and then, likewise, around Nico’s injury. The magic felt warm as it sunk into his skin and his fingers twitched as the wound closed itself, his body’s healing boosted exponentially by the healing magic. “You two shouldn’t be this far out here,” the man said. “It’s dangerous.”

Nico wanted to say he was fine, and it was the mithra’s fault, but he held his tongue. His father said a warrior took his failures as they came and learned from them, and that obstacles were meant to be overcome. One day, Nico knew he’d be able to stop a giant ram without taking a step back, but he wasn’t there yet, and he wouldn’t embarrass himself by making excuses in front of the person who had saved him.

“I’m sorry.” Nico bowed his head.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Well, sometimes it can’t be helped. I’ll escort you both to the crag.”

“Thank you.” The crag was right there, but Nico let it be.

The mithra skipped in beside him with a smile, as if the whole thing hadn’t been her fault in the first place. “Thanks, mister. You’re way better than this guy is. Did you see him lose his axe?”

Nico’s face grew red, and he pointed a finger at her.“I lost that axe saving you! Maybe if your magic was better, I could have-”

“Hey, hey,” interrupted the armored stranger. “Everything worked out in the end. Everyone’s okay, now.”

Nico dropped his finger, but kept his scowl on the mithra for a moment longer, only to be met with a head tilt and a bigger, toothy smile from her. “I’m Lyra, by the way,” she said.

“Nico,” he grumbled, and then spent the rest of the short trip in sullen silence, casting sideways glances at the humming mithra beside him.

-

Nico shrunk in his chair as his father sat down, still dusty from the mine. His father always washed up before he so much as dared looked at the furniture, so Nico knew he must have been in a lot of trouble.

His father leaned forward, hands clasped together, and sighed. “Your training starts tomorrow.”

Nico blinked. “Training? For what?”

“If you’re going to go out and try to save people, I’d prefer you do it competently.”

Nico winced, but didn’t bother asking how he’d heard about the ram incident. Everyone knew his father, and so everyone knew Nico as his kid.

“I’m sorry. I should have-”

His father held his hand up. “Werei’s going to train you.”

Nico perked up. “Really?” That was the opposite of trouble. It was a reward. Werei had trained whole squads of legionnaires, and had been the figurehead of the galka in Bastok since their last leader Raogrimm had died shortly before the war.

His father nodded. “Your training starts at noon tomorrow. But before then, you’ll have to clean the dishes, wash the laundry, sweep the sidewalk, and if you ever, ever so much as step foot outside the city without my permission again, I’ll have you do the same for every household in the district. You understand?”

Nico gulped and nodded, too excited to be truly afraid.

Nico woke early and started his chores immediately. His father had left for his shift in the mines earlier, and with an hour to spare before noon, Nico was hanging up the last of the laundry on the clothesline that ran between his house and his neighbor’s.

Nico knew that he and his father were lucky to have a house, especially in the port district where he could watch the airships float into the watery docks, but sometimes it seemed more like a curse than a blessing. Most of his school friends lived in cramped apartments in the financial district. His father had earned his house as part of a reward for exemplary service during the war, but unlike the others who had earned similar rewards, his father hadn’t taken up being a guard for a wealthy merchant, so paying the taxes for the house was a constant struggle.

Nico didn’t mind being poor. He actually preferred hanging out with the galka and the “lower class” more than the rich, uptight humes he had to call his neighbors. It just meant he didn’t really fit in all that well, the oddball no matter what side of the city he was on.

“I can dry those for you.”

Startled, Nico looked up to the roof where a familiar mithra sat. Lyra. “You? What do you want? You got me in trouble, you know.”

She hopped down from the roof and landed effortlessly on her feet. She held a brown sack in her left hand and extended her right, where a fireball appeared above her extended palm. “So you want me to help dry those?”

“And set them on fire? No thanks.”

“Hey, now, I’m not that bad.” She made the fireball disappear and held out the sack. “For you. An apology.”

Nico warily took the sack and peered inside. “What is it?”

“A gift. You lost your axe, so I got you a new one.”

Nico pulled the weapon out and his mouth opened wide as he stared at the double-sided axe. “Mythril? You got me a mythril axe?”

“Its good, right? The guy was selling it for a lot, so it better be good.”

“Yeah, good.” Way better than just a Legionnaire’s axe. He ran his thumb along the metal, not feeling a single defect along its greenish-gold surface.

Lyra pumped her fist and gave a cheerful yay. “I mostly got it ‘cause it sounded like mithra.”

The axe wasn’t even used. He could have paid three months of taxes with that axe alone. “How did you afford this?”

She grinned and scratched her head just behind her ears. “I wouldn’t go showing it off much around the market district.”

His smile turned to a frown. “You stole it? You gave me a stolen axe?”

She put a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Not so loud.”

“Are you a mage or a thief?”

Lyra rocked back and forth on her heels. “I can be both.”

Nico held the axe out to her. “Take it back. I don’t want a stolen axe.”

“Uh uh. It’s yours.”

“I’ll toss it into the port.”

“If you want,” she shrugged. “It’s yours to use however you like.”

Nico growled. She either really didn’t care, or knew he wouldn’t throw it into the sea. “Your parents must be very proud of you.”

“Would be,” she said, “if they were alive.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“Its fine. Was ten years ago. Died during the war.”

Except it wasn’t fine. He should have known better. His own mom had died then, too. Quadav and their antican allies had used the tunnels that went right through Bastok and attacked the city. It was the only time the city had come under direct attack during the war, but it had been devastating.

“Where do you live?” Nico asked her. Mithra weren’t common in Bastok, and he felt like he would have remembered seeing one his own age hanging around.

Lyra took a seat on the steps of the raised porch and her tail swished around as she looked up at Nico. “Bounced around here and there. Probably spent some time in every orphanage between here and Selbina, but I like to stretch my legs. So whatcha up to today?”

She obviously was uncomfortable talking about it, so Nico let the conversation change. “My teacher’s going to be coming by soon.” He put the axe back in the bag and took a seat beside Lyra on the steps. “Werei,” he added.

If she recognized the name, she didn’t show it. “Whatcha going to learn?”

“Fighting.”

She nodded with appreciation. “You definitely could use it.”

Despite the insult, he found himself smiling. “I don’t think he teaches magic, so you’ll have to find someone else if you want to learn to be competent at that.”

She shoved his shoulder lightly with a half-smile that showed the tip of one of her pointed feline teeth. “I’m still better at magic than you are. Though I’m sure throwing rocks takes its own skill. Way better than throwing fire, yeah?”

She had to give her that one. “Hey, I dont know if Werei would let you, but you could stay. If you wanted,” he added quickly after.

“Sure,” she smiled. “I need to let the heat die down before heading out again, anyway.”

Nico looked at the bag in his hand. He should return it, but he didn’t want to get Lyra in trouble. Maybe he’d keep it, afterall. If his father asked about it, he’d tell him about it. Otherwise, well, maybe he could resell it to help with money if they needed it.

It was a little after noon, and Werei hadn’t shown up yet. Niro started to have doubts that Werei would show up at all. Maybe the whole conversation he’d had about training had been a dream. It sure sounded like one.

Lyra sat beside him, cross-legged, her tail lazily up in the air with her hands a few inches away from each other. Her eyes were closed, but the flame between her two palms danced and flickered, formed a ball, then twisted into a column, then back into a ball.

Nico couldn’t help but acknowledge that a fireball would be a lot more effective than a rock. And being able to use healing magic like that armored stranger had would be nice as well, but Nico had never shown a talent for magic. “What’s it feel like?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Lyra opened her eyes and smirked. “Touch it and find out.”

“Not the fire, you dolt. The magic.” He also wanted to touch her ears. Galkan fur was coarse, but Lyra’s looked soft. But Nico was saving that question for when he really wanted to annoy her.

“Depends on the element, really,” she said with a surprising lack of sarcasm. “Fire’s lightweight, like a butterfly fluttering through your veins. Warm, as you’d expect, but there’s also a hunger in it, something that can turn that little butterfly into an antlion if you let it. Ice is cold, sharp.

Desolate. Makes it hard for me to concentrate. My old teacher, when I had one briefly, said I didn’t have a good affinity for it, which is why I have trouble with it. But I think it’s useful, so I try to use it anyway. Fire, lightning, light. She said I should stick with those before working on the other elements. Healing comes easy enough, but I don’t practice it much. Don’t get hurt and you won’t need healing magic. Seems like betting against yourself, yeah?”

That was probably the most she had spoken at one time, and definitely the longest she’d gone without throwing in an insult. And the way she smiled and her eyes lit up as she spoke, it was like she was a different person. And then her smirk appeared along with that one little fang.

“Though if you’re around, I probably should master healing magic, cause you’ll need plenty of it, I’m sure.”

Nico ignored the jab as he repositioned himself to mimic Lyra’s pose. “So, what, you just concentrate?”

She raised an eyebrow, and Nico could see her deliberate if she should toss an insult or not. She didn’t, and the fire between her palms disappeared in a puff of black smoke. “Concentration is typically the first step. Kinda like how pulling out your weapon is the first step to fighting with it. Just skip the step where you lose it.”

“As long as you don’t anger another giant animal, and come running toward me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

We’ll see, is what her smile said. “I bet you’re a fire kind of guy, so let’s start with that.

Concentrate on your heart beating. Listen to it, feel it in your chest.” Easy. “Now, imagine a match and pretend that your heart is the match.” A little more imaginative… “Then, when you’re ready, strike the match. Create that spark. But that’s not all. You have to move that little flame from your heart through your veins, through your arms, and into your palm.” A flame ignited between her hands. She flexed her fingers and the flame vanished. She repeated it two more times. “Easy.”

Nico tried. He did exactly as Lyra said. He followed his heartbeat.

Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba-strike! But there was no spark. He tried again.

Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba-strike!

Nothing. He looked to Lyra, expecting some sort of useful tip, but she only shrugged. “Might not just have the knack for it.”

Nico nodded. He wasn’t saddened by it, it was just a fact. He’d grown up his whole life without magic and it was never something he felt he was missing out on. He was only trying it now because he was anxious, and magic genuinely seemed to make Lyra happy- and less likely to insult him. “Can you do lightning?” He asked. “Calling thunder and lightning down from the sky sounds super cool.”

“Lightning scares me. Fire magic feels warm, but lightning makes me feel like I’m on fire. All that energy pushing around inside me waiting to burst out of me…” Lyra shuddered as the fur on her tail stood on end.

“Its good to respect your boundaries.”

Nico turned to the deep voice and saw the hulking, black-furred galka Werei striding up the sidewalk. “Magic’s a useful and powerful tool,” he said, “but during the war, untrained mages were more a danger to themselves and their own allies than to the enemy.”

Nico stood at attention, not really sure how to behave in front of his new teacher. Lyra stayed in place.

“You know magic?” Werei asked him.

Nico shook his head. “I was just curious. I was saved by a warrior in heavy armor yesterday, and he used magic to heal me. Just seemed like knowing magic would help me be a better fighter.”

Werei stopped at the bottom of the porch and still was taller than Nico. “Unfortunately, it’s all about having the proper mindset. A warrior and mage can hardly coexist in the same head. The man who saved you was a paladin. He’d devoted his entire life to understanding and helping other, and even still, his healing magic is trivial compared to a fully trained white mage. Red mages are another example.” He looked at Lyra as he spoke. “They can strike a fine balance between combat and magic, but I personally prefer to see them off the front lines where their lesser martial abilities can put them into trouble fast.”

There certainly were few good examples of fighters doing more with magic than just supplementing their own abilities. But there was one person the other kids, particularly the galkan children, loved to talk about. A figure so illusive and mysterious, Nico wasn’t even sure if he was real or myth. His father certainly avoided the subject. “What about Zeid?”

“Forget about Zeid,” Werei snapped.

“Who’s he?” Lyra whispered to Nico not so quietly.

Nico didn’t want to answer her. Just bringing up the name seemed to anger Werei, and he wouldn’t risk losing his chance to train with him.

“The Dark Knight,” Werei said. “I am sure you’ve heard of that moniker.”

‘Ah,’ Lyra mouthed. That was the name that had spread across Vana’diel. From the Republic of Bastok to the Federation of Windurst, to the Monarchy of San d’Oria. The galka responsible for killing the Shadow Lord and bringing an end to the Crystal War. Yet, instead of being hailed as a hero, not even the galka liked to claim as their own, and humes used him to scare themselves and the populace as an example of the horrible rage and violence the galka were capable of.

Still angry, Werei continued. “If you haven’t shown any magical talents by now, it’s unlikely you’ll get them unless you devout your entire mind and soul to learning them. But if that’s the case, your father asked for the wrong teacher for you.”

Nico gasped. “No, no, please. Teach me!”

Werei nodded, and the scowl on his face disappeared. “Then let’s not waste any more time. Am I teaching both of you?”

“Not me,” Lyra said. I’m content to watch.”

Nico didn’t think he could stand any straighter, but he tried. “Sir, I just want to say I’m thankful for this opportunity.”

“Thank your father. He’s the one I owe a favor to.”

“You owed my father a favor?” It was difficult to imagine the de facto leader of the galka in debt to anyone, particularly his father.

“Myself and half the galka in Bastok. If not during the war, then in the mines. It’s because of him a galka can earn the same as a hume for doing the same job. He could be living the good life with the rest of them, but he chose to make a real difference, and it cost him. Now enough talking. I’m busy, and I’m here to teach you to better defend yourself should you manage to get yourself in trouble again.”

Nico blushed, and beside him, Lyra snickered.

Two more days passed, each bringing another training session with it, despite how busy Werei was. The fact that Werei made time for him made Nico that much more proud of his father. Lyra also continued to show up, and while she turned down physically taking part in the lessons, she was undoubtedly paying attention. The next day Werei called for a break, and while Nico wouldn’t have passed up another day of training, his bruised body was thankful for it.

Nico had limped his way up Zegham Hill, where he decided he would wait for his father to get off shift from Palborough Mines, which was only a ten-minute walk away from the hill just outside of Bastok.

Lyra had decided to go off for the day wherever it was she went when she wasn’t with him, though Nico was just as far from figuring out where she lived as the first time he’d met her.

Nico was watching the sheep graze when the alarm bells rang out from Palborough Mines. They were bells Nico had never heard before outside of safety drills, but there was no mistaking that sound for anything else; the mines were under attack.

Nico ran down the hill. He was tired, bruised, and stiff from his training, but none of that mattered, because his father was there. Palborough Mines was a lot closer than Bastok, and they could hear the bells back home, so running back for help would have been pointless when he could be of real help right in the mines.

Nico hadn’t even reached the mine before he saw the first bodies. Three dead legionnaires laid sprawled out on the ground, weapons still sheathed, taken in a surprise attack. A few more dead miners and a guard lay scattered at the entrance of the mine, though none of them were his father.

One of the bodies was a quadav, which was nearly as large as a galka, with mud-colored, thick leathery skin and a turtle-like shell on its back. Its beady black eyes stared blankly toward the mine entrance, and its rounded beak of a mouth gaped open. The galka-sized pickaxe sticking out of its neck no doubt belonged to the dead galka beside it, which meant there were more quadav than just that single one.

The alarm bells were deafening, their chimes ringing out from above the mine’s entrance. A guard had pulled the alarm, but they had paid for it in blood, having been cut down from behind. Help would be coming, but Nico was here now. He grabbed a sword from a dead legionnaire and ran into the mine.

The long winding tunnels made certain Nico didn’t know what direction he was heading, so he let his instincts choose as each new split path emerged. Scattered through the tunnels were the bodies of mostly galkan miners, a few hume, and a rare quadav, and Nico only slowed to ensure none of the humes were his father.

His tired legs constantly tripped over the rail tracks in the center of the tunnel, but when Nico heard a scream echoing down one tunnel, his legs found new strength and he ran toward the sound, clenching his borrowed sword. He knew he shouldn’t fight. He was going to get over his head. But most of the miners were unarmed, and during the war, people younger than him had taken up arms to fight the Shadow Lord’s beastmen armies.

“Go! Run for the barge. I’ll slow them down!” Nico instantly recognized his father’s voice up ahead.

“There’s too many, Derrik! You can’t take them all,” came another voice Nico didn’t know.

“I just need to hold them off. Get the others to safety.”

The sounds of talking disappeared, replaced by the sounds of fighting; metal clashing with metal. The occasional bestial scream of a quadav. But just as everything seemed so close, the tunnel came to a dead end, an old cave-in no one had bothered to open back up, with only a gap in the rocks large enough to look through.

Nico’s father, Derrik, stood in the middle of the small cavern which served as a junction for several of the cart rails. Four quadav lay dead on the ground around Nico’s father while he fought two more. Another three of the beastmen stood aside, watching the fight.

The fight happened so fast, Nico couldn’t believe it. Their larger size had meant nothing. Their bigger weapons had been pointless. Their heavy shells and tough skin made moot by two quick, fierce, precise strikes. Nico had practiced with his father for years, but the man he watched now was someone else entirely. The remaining three quadav should have been shaking in their armor, but they weren’t.

One quadav said something in its own language as it stepped forward and laughed. The other two stayed where they stood, but joined in the laughter.

“De’Vyu,” the lead quadav said as it pointed at itself.

Nico’s father only glared in response.

“Customary give name in duel, yes?” the quadav squawked in Common. “Me, De’Vyu. You?”

“You sneak in and slaughter helpless miners and speak of duels and custom?” While his father talks, he scans the room for possible deception. As his eyes pass by the old caved-in tunnel, his eyes meet Nico’s and he freezes.

It was just a brief moment, but De’Vyu took full advantage of the slight distraction and his father barely had time to dodge backward as De’Vyu swung his massive two-handed sword into the ground where he just stood a blink before.

His father surged forward to take advantage of the opening, but De’Vyu brought his great sword up, flinging dirt and dust into the air. With two hands, De’Vyu swung horizontally, but his father rolled beneath it and sprung forward within the quadav’s reach and thrust his sword at De’Vyu’s throat, going for the kill. De’Vyu let one hand go of its sword and used its free left hand to smack away the blade. Blood sprayed from De’Vyu’s hand, but it paid no mind as its right hand grabbed for his father’s neck, who pulled back in time to avoid the quadav’s hand on his throat, but not fast enough to avoid De’Vyu from finding its grip on the collar of his shirt. De’Vyu pulled his catch closer and delivered a vicious headbutt to his father’s skull.

Nico tried to hide a shriek as his father, dazed, was lifted off the ground by his collar in the quadav’s grip. “You people will pay for what was done,” De’Vyu said, as it dropped its sword and unsheathed a dagger from its belt with its left hand. “Blood for blood.” Then it drove the dagger into his father’s gut repeatedly before letting him fall to the ground.

“No!” Nico screamed, which brought the full attention of the quadav onto himself.

De’Vyu motioned to the other two quadav, who went running down a tunnel that Nico assumed would bring them to him. De’Vyu stared down Nico a moment before laughing, then picked up its great sword and headed down another tunnel.

Nico heard the two quadav coming down the tunnel for him. He heard their rattling armor, their heavy footfalls, their laughing and taunting in their own language. Nico ran toward the sound of laughter with sword in hand, and didn’t stop even when he saw the shadows of the quadav around the corner. His father was dying and they were in his way.

Nico leapt into the air as the first quadav turned the corner. He aimed for the least armored part of the quadav’s body, and his sword pierced its neck with surprising ease as he tackled the beastman and brought it down. The second quadav had been knocked aside by its falling companion, and Nico burst forward and dispatched it quickly with a similar attack.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Nico was back running full speed down the tunnel. His father was motionless in the center of the room. “Father! Father!” Nico screamed as he slid on his knees beside him. “It’s okay! You’ll be okay!”

“Nico…” His father’s voice was weak and barely audible. “It’s not safe. Get out of here.”

“I’ll get you out of here, Father,” Nico fought back tears, but was failing at it. “You’ll be okay, Father. I’ll help you out!”

“Go!” His voice erupted in anger and filled the mine with echoes. “Please… leave. Go…” His body went still, a blank stare on his face.

“Father? Father! No, no, no, no…” Nico began to cry, his tears falling onto his father’s face.

“Sad, to lose parent.” Nico looked up and found De’Vyu standing there, apparently not having gone far. Another quadav stood behind it. “Worse to lose child.” Behind the quadav’s words, more screams echoed from deeper in the mine.

Nico wiped the tears from his face. “I’ll make you pay for this!” Nico’s grip tensed and he charged straight at De’Vyu.

With a single one-handed swing, the quadav easily knocked Nico’s sword from his hands. “Kill children no good,” spoke De’Vyu in the common tongue. “But…”

De’Vyu grabbed Nico by the collar of his shirt and raised him up, just like it had done to his father, but this time, it brought him right to its own eye level. Nico kicked and swung at De’Vyu, growling and screaming, but it didn’t bother the quadav.

Nico was frustrated at his own uselessness. His father had died because he had decided to stand there and watch instead of help. And now the quadav that killed him was laughing at the small, helpless hume he was. If only he still had his sword. He would stab De’Vyu in its ugly, smiling, beaked face. But he couldn’t even reach its face with his fists. He screamed. He screamed and screamed and thrashed. His heart pounded in his chest and filled his ears with its rhythmic beating.

Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba bum.

De’Vyu raised its sword up, readying to skewer him.

Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba bum.

De’Vyu squawked one more laugh. “Die.”

Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba strike!

Nico gave one last throat-tearing screaming and thrust his empty hand forward as the fires of rage exploded in his chest and shot through his veins and erupted out of his hand and into De’Vyu’s face.

De’Vyu dropped Nico and screamed in pain, holding its empty hand to its face. Nico scrambled to grab his sword from the ground and charged at De’Vyu, hoping to strike its neck, but barely raised his sword up in time to block a one-handed horizontal swing from De’Vyu. The impact from the blow sent Nico flying backwards, and he crashing into the rock wall behind him.

Wind knocked out of him, vision blurred, Nico struggled to get to his feet. He still held his sword, but he had to force his fingers shut around it just to not drop it.

De’Vyu’s heavy breathing slowed as it managed to compose itself. It dropped its hand away from its still smoking head and revealed the horrible burns on the left side of its face. The fact it had ultimately done so little damage was what broke Nico, and he let his knees fall to the ground.

“You dare, hatchling? You. Will. Suffer.”

Nico’s vision was doubled and blurry, and darkness crept in at the edges of his vision. He couldn’t life the tip of his sword off the ground, but he didn’t stop trying, even as pain shot through his back and chest. Finally, he got the sword up with both hands and he stepped back to use the wall as support to stand.

De’Vyu stepped forward, half of its face bright red, and its eye closed tight. “I will pin you to the wall,“ it spat. “You will be made an exam-”

De’Vyu spun when it heard the horrible screeching of the other quadav behind it, and it turned in time to witness a giant scythe cut down the quadav, its shell offering no protection from the cruel curved weapon wielded by the bulky form of a galka in a black mask and dark armor.

“Dark Knight Zeid,” the quadav hissed.

Nico was barely hanging on to consciousness, and he wasn’t even sure if he wasn’t already dreaming.

De’Vyu took a step back away from Zeid. “Retribution,” it growled. “These deaths are your fault.”

A black aura whisped off Zeid’s body like steam. His midnight black scythe couldn’t hide the dark blood coating it.

“Accept the consequences of your actions.” De’Vyu failed to hide the tremble in its voice, and it took another step back as the Dark Knight remained silent, the shadowy aura around him thickening.

De’Vyu suddenly spun around and rushed Nico with its sword raised to attack him. Nico tried to move, but a paralyzing pain shot up his back and all he managed to do was silently gasp as he doubled back over.

A massive form slid between Nico and the quadav just as its massive sword came down. The galka that appeared deflected the sword with his bare fist, then struck De’Vyu in its stomach with a flurry of punches so fast Nico wouldn’t have been able to follow even if he wasn’t struggling to not pass out. A final right hook to the beastman’s face brought it down faster than a sack of rocks.

The newly arrived galka looked at Nico as the quadav lay unconscious on the ground. “Are you okay, Nico?” Werei asked.

Nico tried to answer, but as he opened his mouth, all he did was black out.

Werei checked on the boy, who was unconscious, but stable. Derrik was already dead. The man had risked his life more times than Werei could count, saving more lives than anyone could imagine, and even after the war, he had sacrificed more for the galkan cause than anyone had a right to ask him to. There wasn’t a doubt in Werei’s mind that Derrik had lost his life trying to save as many lives as possible. Werei would regret not being there sooner to save him for the rest of his own life.

“Is it true?” Werei asked Zeid. “Retribution, it said. Something you did?”

The black cloth mask fashioned after a demon hid whatever emotions Zeid was feeling. His black armor was dirty and stained from days, if not weeks, of filth. The blood dripping from his scythe onto the ground filled the silence until he finally spoke.

“Yes.”

“Was it worth it?”

Zeid shook his head. “Nothing was worth the price these people paid.”

Werei let the subject drop. “Thank you for saving the boy. I don’t know if I would have made it in time if you hadn’t shown up. Are there any more survivors?”

“Too few. There are waiting at the barge. You should take the boy there. I cleared the way.”

“Okay.” Werei hoisted Nico into his arms and walked past Zeid.

“Werei.”

Werei stopped at the tunnel entrance and turned back to face Zeid. The black-clad galka could not hide his exhaustion with a mask. The way his shoulders slumped, his tail hung, even the way he gripped his dread scythe was lax. “The boy… Am I right to say he’s never shown any magical talents before today?”

Werei shook his head. He’d never seen it and Derrik certainly never mentioned it.

“He did today.”

“How?”

“Rage, hate, carelessness for one’s own life. Such are the catalysts for a dark knight. It is a path that will lead to destruction. Both for his enemies and for himself. See that he is trained well, and maybe he won’t make the same mistakes I and my predecessors have. See to strengthen his body and mind and maybe he won’t die young, or grow old enough to regret what he has become.”

Werei grunted. “Sounds like it would be best for you to train him, then.”

“I cannot. But I do have yet another favor to ask you, Werei. Tell the President that both sides have suffered enough. If this leads to war with the quadav, all his secrets will come out.”

Werei wasn’t surprised to hear the President had dirtied his hands somehow. “What happened?”

“President Karst has been pushing to uproot the quadav populace by any means necessary. He says that even Passhow Marshlands aren’t far enough. He ordered me to clear out a nest that broached the agreed upon border between us.”

Werei had been the one responsible for shunning Zeid even after he helped bring the Crystal War to an end- not that it stopped President Karst from using him in more discreet ways. But Werei had to agree with him on this. “The war was just a decade ago. It wouldn’t be hard to fall back into bad habits. A skirmish with the quadav could turn into a war, and then lead to alliances with the other beastmen tribes. We could end up right back in another Crystal War. But what are you going to do?”

“There are answers I need to find for myself, and I won’t find them chained to Bastok.”

There wasn’t much else Werei could say that wouldn’t just be I-told-you-so’s and more finger wagging, and this wasn’t the place or time for that, so Werei simply nodded and disappeared into the tunnel.

When Nico regained consciousness, the small barge that connected Palborough Mines to the Zeruhn Mine was already traveling through the waterway. He looked around and counted fifteen others on board.

“How are you feeling?” Werei asked.

Nico swallowed hard. “My head hurts. I think I broke a bone or two. And…” Tears rolled down Nico’s face. “What’s going to happen now? Mom’s gone and now Father is too…”

“I’ll be looking after you. It’s what your father would have wanted.”

He closed his hand tight and looked around at the survivors again. “Is this everyone?”

“Yes.”

“There’s so few of them.”

“And your father is probably responsible for saving all of them.”

Nico clenched and unclenched his fist, remembering the fire magic he used. Remembering the sword in his hand, and wishing he’d been able to kill De’Vyu with it. “Does it make me a terrible person to wish he hadn’t saved them and saved himself instead?”

“No, Nico,” Werei shook his head. “If it did, I’d be a terrible person, too.” But that wasn’t who your father was.” Werei spent the rest of the time telling Nico of his father’s exploits during the war. Tales of all the people his actions had saved, and stories of all the lives he made easier after.

The sun shone brightly as the memorial service for those killed in the Palborough Mines incident took place on Zegham Hill. Werei had an hand on Nico’s shoulder, and Lyra held Nico’s other hand as they listened to the speech given by President Karst honoring those that were killed. A short time later, the truce between Bastok and the quadav was solidified, extending the hard-earned peacetime that came out of the Crystal War. Palborough Mines would remain closed indefinitely, and true to his word, Zeid had disappeared. The public had already thought him nothing but a ghost, and so the myth of Dark Knight Zeid continued to grow, but the Bastokan government had sent out agents to find him, only to come up empty-handed.

Werei not only took in Nico, but the vagrant mithra Lyra as well. He continued to train the boy as he grew, but sometimes he wondered if Zeid was wrong about him. Werei didn’t see a boy filled with hate, but a boy with a dream that he strived hard to accomplish- a boy hoping to be as great as his father.

The world of Vana’diel would continue to enjoy its peace for another three years, but unbeknownst to all, a darkness was already growing in the shadows...