On the windswept wastes of an untouched land, a single campfire blew plumes of smoke into the air. Fashioned from little else but bare twigs and wilting leaves pulled from what few hardy bushes could survive on the dehydrated soil, it was barely fit to provide warmth of any real value. As night fell, the freezing winds from further north descended through the mountain gullies and enshrouded those plains in a biting chill. On the far horizon, four coloured pillars of light ascended into the endless sky, drawing one's eyes up to the starry abyss stretching into the infinite.
With one hand, he pinched his fingers against the rough fabric of his tunic and wiped off their crimson-coated stains, and with the other, he gripped the skinned body of an emaciated rabbit that had strayed too far from its home. It was far from a nutritious meal, but it was the first he had eaten in weeks that hadn't tasted of pure rot. Like a savage, he plucked at what little remained of the poor creature's meat and tore the gristly tissues of its organs to shreds. His throat became parched as he threw bones onto the fire. There wasn't a source of clean water for miles.
Another day passed fighting until the sun had lowered completely. The plum bruises on his knuckles ached with a dull pain, and an exhaustion like no other sapped his desire to eat. For weeks, he had been at it--tracking down furnaces of devilry using the power he'd been granted long ago. Just how many had he destroyed? 30? 40? At some point, he had lost count of even the days as they continued to pass ceaselessly. The only rest he'd been allowed was on the few occasions when those plains weren't filled with the sounds of shrieking, hellish creatures marching in droves to the south, and even then, he had been tormented continuously by a darker, stranger kind of evil.
Even then, he could see it. Almost invisible against the night sky, but unquestionably present--ever-watching. There was no reason to have developed such a connection to it, but strangely, he felt drawn to the black spot--to the black moon which hung only in the stars. On the quietest nights, when he tried to sleep away the exhaustion and pain, he could hear Luna whispering to him. Whispering in a strange, unintelligible tongue, but one he could nonetheless understand without much trouble at all. It repeated that prayer to him. The one he had heard so many times in the past.
When darkness threatens the world, a 'Hero' will always emerge.
When darkness threatens the world, a 'Hero' will always emerge.
When darkness threatens the world, a 'Hero' will always emerge.
The verses tormented him. He was compelled to fulfil that promise, even as one who had done so centuries ago. His existence was not a natural one, and the all-knowing Luna understood that. Somehow, it desired his defeat. But he had survived worse odds in the past, and found himself brought back from the grip of death on more than a handful of occasions. His journey would not break him, but it would certainly test his patience. As he settled down to rest near the smouldering campfire, he was tormented yet again--only not by the soothing voice of Luna. At first, he could only feel it. Subtle vibrations in the soil. But then, a noise became clear in the silence. A heavy noise. Hooves against harsh, uninhabitable soil. A voice.
"-on…" He heard, "-r…on…"
Someone had found him. The sight of a covered wagon--one so familiar that not even his barely-conscious state could forget it. Memories of a simpler time welled up within him, but instead of comfort, he was only brought to worry. With half a mind to seem at least somewhat presentable, he rose up from the dirt and patted down the dust on his tunic.
"Barion!" Perched on the driver's seat was Pale, who seemed surprised that she'd actually managed to catch up with him, "We've been looking all over for you?"
"Hah…" He sighed before clearing his throat, "...I take it Fusala came with you?"
The girl in question was quick to materialise from Pale's shadow. Even her normally listless expression seemed somewhat surprised to see him in the flesh.
"Hello, Barion." She greeted, "Are you well?"
"Do I look well?"
"No." She answered immediately, "At a glance, you appear to be suffering from dehydration. We have ample stores of water in the wagon, if you wish to quench your thirst."
"I'd love that." He replied, "-But how did you find me?"
"We followed the sea of corpses." Pale interjected, lowering herself from the driver's seat, "It was only a matter of time. The stench of death is difficult to wash away."
"I see you're back on your feet." He remarked.
"Thanks in no small part to Fusala." She lowered her gaze, admiring the sheen of her silver prosthetics, "I would have been left for dead at the summit were it not for her."
"I told you not to follow me."
"You said nothing of the sort." Pale retorted, crossing her arms, "You only said that I would have slowed you down in the state I was in. Now that my wounds have mended, I'll do whatever I please."
"Still looking for revenge?"
"Yes." She admitted shamelessly, "-But I don't seek fulfilment, for I know that finding meaning in vengeance is pointless. Rather, I will selfishly devote myself to the pursuit of power, content with nothing else but the deaths of those who dared to attack my kind."
"Hm…"
Pale flinched as Barion suddenly stood forward and gazed deeply into her eyes.
"What's with this?" She smirked, "Stricken with me, are you?"
"Pale…" He muttered, "You've taken to Senpo, haven't you?"
"...Mm-" Furrowing her brow, the Rabbitkin girl averted her eyes, "You can tell with a mere glance?"
"It takes a certain kind of hatred to channel that power. One that goes beyond what's written on your face. But look closely enough, and you can spot all sorts of things in someone's eyes." He answered, "Funny. I recall you going on about how Senpo was forbidden when we first met."
"Had I known things would have turned out the way they did, I would have taken the steps to avoid them." Pale replied, "I cannot see my own future, Barion."
"I don't mean to call you a hypocrite." He frowned, "Fighting is good. It gets my heart beating. But if you've come here with the intention of 'helping' me, then you've made a poor decision. Both you and Fusala have talents better put to use elsewhere."
"And I suppose there's no better place for you than here, pointlessly exhausting yourself with endless battles?"
"I'm… a Hero." He claimed, "I was born--no, I was created to fight. Against Demons… against anything that would threaten this world's peace. Getting yourself involved in a Hero's business is akin to throwing your life away. You'll spend your last moments crying miserably that you decided to come here, just like how you were after the battle at the summit."
"I've battled a Demon and emerged victorious. I'm stronger than before."
"I don't care. I've battled thousands." Barion paused, "That's all my life was ever destined to be--an endless battlefield. The only reason any of those Beastkin tribes are still alive is because I happened to be there."
There was a sharp sound--metal against flesh. Pale didn't allow the cold weight of her prosthetic to dissuade her from slapping Barion as harshly as she could muster. It was almost certainly something he could have dodged, but as she raised her hand, he chose not to move. It was as if he wanted it to happen.
"You cur…" Without realising it, tears had begun to well in Pale's eyes, "-Don't you dare ignore the truth. If it wasn't for Fusala, the entire summit would have been overrun while you basked in your victory!"
"I couldn't possibly have stopped all of them from breaking through." Barion placed a hand on his cheek, "Of course Fusala was helpful. But hundreds of Demons were approaching that day. More than any army could hope to defeat."
"Then what hope is there for the people of this world, if they can't muster the strength to protect themselves from Demonkind!? Must we fall to our hands and knees and pray for the all-powerful Hero to deliver us from darkness!?" She shouted, "If that is our reality, then I would prefer death! I would not live in a world where my own two hands could not ensure a bright future!"
"That's just how it is." Barion lowered his head, "The Hero defeats the Demon King."
"Hah…" Clenching her fists, Pale let loose a frustrated sigh, "I don't believe this…"
"I'm sure Fusala has keyed you into the finer points of this so-called Demon Age." He continued, "It isn't the first, and it certainly won't be the last. The world has been ensnared in a repeating cycle of having its history wiped and rewritten countless times, for longer than any of us can possibly know."
"Then how do we stop it?"
"I…" Though he knew the answer, it hadn't become any easier to admit, "...I don't know."
On that lonely plain, they were perhaps the most isolated trio in the world. Barion was almost certainly the most powerful man in the world--a fact he knew well, but even he could not begin to rationalise how such a cycle could be brought to a close. There still existed too many unknown factors. But, somehow, he knew it was connected to the source of his woes--the watchful Luna, who monitored them from high above even then.
"If I may interject-" Fusala began, "Whether you believe we are hindrances or not, the fact remains that we have reached you, Barion. Please consider having a meal and rehydrating yourself before making any further decisions."
"Fusala…" He muttered, "I'm sorry. I didn't even greet you."
"Please do not apologise."
"It's just… I'm awfully tired." He lamented, "Right now, all I want to do is sleep."
"Please help yourself to the wagon." She blinked, "-It does belong to you, after all."
"Brought it all the way here, did you?" A small smirk appeared on his face, "Seems I'll never be rid of it."
"Barion." Pale spoke up, "...I will not leave. But it would be for the best if we continued this conversation in the morning."
"Well, I wasn't expecting to convince you that easily, anyway…" Yawning, he allowed his guard to drop for just a moment, "Alright, then."
"And, Barion-" She paused, averting her eyes, "I'm sure I speak for Fusala more than myself, but… it is good to see that you are alive. We did not part on the best of terms during the summit."
"You…" He blinked, "You're secretly quite a nice person, aren't you?"
"What's that supposed to mean!?" She yelled.