(no subject)
Fandom: Tales of Vesperia
Pairing: Duke/Elucifer
Spoilers: For the entire game, basically.
Rating: For talk of adult hand-holding between two men. Well, man and Entelexeia.
Word Count: 13,943
Disclaimer: Tales of Vesperia isn't mine. No profit being made here.
A/N: Vesperia has a slippery time line and a plethora of tiny, easily overlooked details. Apologies if I've fumbled with either.
It begins with a boy.
***
As best he can, Duke cares for the world.
As the years have passed on, so have the Entelexeia. One by one he hears of their deaths, occasionally through natural causes or aer krene gone too wild, but generally at the hands of humans mistaking them for monsters. When he can, he retrieves their apatheia and scatters the aer, returning their souls to the earth they love so well.
Most often, though, his self-appointed task has been the upkeep of the krene themselves. Not only calming them when they begin to overflow, but keeping travelers from wandering through the area. He pales to think what would happen if they ever discover the secret that even Elucifer was reluctant to tell him - that Entelexeia keep their eggs hidden down in the very depths of the streams, steadily maturing over countless decades.
He keeps Dein Nomos close to his side and Elucifer's memory closer still, so that humankind will never again be allowed the abuse of either.
***
The winter breaks gently that year, and Duke is pleased for that. The days have been particularly cold and hungry, keen on testing his resolve, but he has seen worse. When the first new buds and shoots make themselves known, he picks at them gratefully and gathers the means to make bread.
Something rustles in the weeds; he lays fingertips to Dein Nomos purely as a precaution, but it is only a greater skunky, thin and haggard from casting off her winter fur. She regards him for a moment, then takes up a fighting stance.
Duke picks up a handful of seeds. "Be calm," he tells her, careful to place his gaze just above her head. She bares her teeth and raises her plumed tail, prepared to give him a toxic dose of spray. He does not show apprehension. The Geraios art of speaking to monsters is more than just a dying one - it is incredibly complex. Each species has a dozen small nuances and idiosyncrasies to take into account even without considering the individual; Egg Bears, for example, thrive on eye contact, while black wolves take it as a challenge and no sane individual would attempt it on a cockatrice. Quietta form bonds of trust through an exchange of breath; griffins exchange fresh meat (the only thing that has ever moved Duke to purchase it.) It is a labor born of love that has earned him countless scars over the years, but Duke has all the patience in the world.
"Be calm."
Finally, the skunky quiets, lowering her tail suspiciously, and Duke sets down the handful of grain. She gives him one last derisive snort before falling to with ravenous desperation. He returns to his own cooking, content with the momentary distraction from the world's mounting concerns.
The beings referred to as monsters are like that; far more intelligent than humans expect them to be. Clever enough to know the difference between him and a hunter out for their meat or pelt, which is why he has little fear of acclimating them to handouts. At the same time, their intellect is of a very different sort than that of his own. Chaos is an invention of man, and monsters have no need of war or technology, focusing instead on the present, immediate future, and any significant lessons from the past...their world is difficult, savage, unforgiving, but never shallow.
This is the life he has chosen for himself, and though it can never be called home - home was wherever Elucifer happened to be - he wants for no other.
The skunky growls around a mouthful of grain. Duke allows himself a trace of a smile. The bread is just beginning to turn golden when the message flutters down over his feet, attached to a single brown feather.
Alexei has made his move.
***
Life, it seems, is not content to be merely cruel, but conducts itself with a bitterest sense of humor. There is no other explanation for how a threat to the world and everything that lives in it could possibly be one and the same as this girl.
The young man confronts him boldly. His eyes carry a cold fire, too full of thoughtless confidence to be threatening, but impressive nonetheless.
"Listen. She may be a bumbling, sheltered excuse for a princess, but she's one of ours. She's none of your concern. So back off!"
They fall into the trap of all humankind, of course; thinking ancient knowledge to be a right, rather than a privilege. That is unavoidable. The girl, however... such misplaced ideals, such false confidence. Like a child putting on airs before the grown ups. Everything about her, from her dress to the color of her hair to the sound of her voice, makes him think of spun sugar. How she came to be traveling with this group is a mystery for the ages.
"Do you say that knowing just how great a threat her existence poses?"
He can bring himself to kill her, if it comes down to that. Ignore her tears and resignation; he can even carve a path through her companions to get to her. It does not mean the idea brings him any sort of satisfaction. They are a broken group, it seems, cobbled together out of whatever societies saw fit to lose them, but they have yet to betray one another and speak to the Entelexeia as worthy equals. For these reasons alone, he would much rather keep tabs on them than engage them in battle.
"What we know's got nothing to do with it. Our motto is 'always do what's right.' And if that means having to get up close and personal with you, so be it."
What drives them on to keep him from their comrade? Even more, what was it that moved Phaeroh to spare her? It is high time he learned the answer.
"...Very well."
The barrier blastia known as Brave Vesperia has been continuously fortified through the efforts of Khroma and himself. Only Alexei remains to be eliminated, a task they have been steeling themselves to for well over a year.
How ironic that if all goes well, they will never need to raise a finger against him. Alexei's death will come in the name of the very blastia on which all his hopes have been pinned.
***
Duke watches from the rocks below as Khroma draws closer and closer, her wings scraping the cliff edges hard enough to concern him. Landing precariously, she drops the limp and blood soaked body like a piece of prey.
"Thank you, Khroma," he says somberly.
She curls her tail, which hangs like a lethal pendulum. "Save your thanks. With Belius and Astal gone, we will need every means can find to help steady the aer." As she smacks the fallen hand closer to Duke, he is relieved to find it still clutching Dein Nomos. "For what little it can do now..."
Duke kneels beside the young man and feels for a pulse; what he detects is high and rapid, not yet come down from the adrenaline rush of battle. A basic healing arte stems the grievous flow of blood; another sends him off to a more natural sleep, one that should mend him further. Of course, a mere stab wound would not be enough to kill this one...of course. Even in repose, there is an aura about him Duke prefers not to acknowledge.
"I require a word with him when he awakens. It is best he be taken to his home and you need not glare at me so, Khroma. I will carry him there."
She shakes her head disapprovingly, but there is no time for trivialities. High above, their worst fears have ceased to be a mere frightening possibility; before their very eyes, the Adephagos is metastasizing across the world. They share the sobering weight of their own miscalculation, knowing every ounce of the support they've fed into the barrier, their safety net laid down months before Zaude even rose from the sea, has not been enough to prevent this.
The dragon gives a soft, dangerous cry from low in her throat. "The murders of two Entelexeia do not spell the extinction of a race. This remains our planet and it will not end this way. Not as long as I draw breath."
Duke suspects she is speaking to herself more than him, but it no longer matters. As Dein Nomos returns to his hand once more, there is nothing left to say.
***
Duke visits Ehmead Hill one last time.
He kneels before the humble stone marker, drawing his fingertips over the rough cut stone. It has always been a poor substitute for the pale curve of Eluicfer's Krityan face or the softness of his true form's coat.
'Hello again, my dearest friend. Forgive me for not coming sooner...I am afraid the possibility we always feared has come to pass. The Adephagos has returned.' He wonders, not for the first time, if Elucifer can truly hear him, wherever he is. He tries to imagine how he would respond, if only to keep the sound of his voice from fading in his mind. 'Khroma and I could not prevent it, Elucifer. Not as you would have. But I have not forgotten the promise I made to you. I will protect our world, no matter the cost.
Long ago, when he first placed this unmarked headstone, Duke had been overcome with guilt. He had seen the imperial funerals held for fallen soldiers, heads of state, royalty...grand affairs with silk lined tombs, marble and gold trimmed mausoleums, flags covering the sky. Final tributes that were every bit as magnificent as they were solemn. When he thought of them, it felt disgraceful to bury Elucifer with nothing more than a blank stone overlooking the ocean.
It all feels like foolish melodramatics, looking back now. Elucifer would never have needed nor wanted a king's funeral.
This entire hillside is his headstone.
'Wait for me, my friend. Perhaps we shall walk together there.'
***
It all has turned to black now, a swollen, toxic mass spreading over the healthy pale of sky and cloud, but even this seems very far away just now. Hope for the future lies far, far beneath now, sequestered in a room deep below the surface of the earth. Duke has no more time for gazing at the skies.
Soon, it will all be over. It is time for everything to return to its proper place.
He hears the thrum of wings touching down behind him. There is no need to turn, to find her looking as young and strong as she had when he was a boy, but he does anyway.
"Khroma. Have you come to stop me?"
"To dissuade you, rather," she says calmly. "And to ask you whether this is truly the option you have chosen to save the world."
He fixes his eyes on her raptor's irises, finding the same flecks of red that haunt the poisoned sky. "The time for alternatives has run out. What would you propose?"
The dragon's answer is brief.
"Speak to them."
Duke turns sharply from her, wanting to hide the sudden, irrational flare of anger that spikes in him. She has always been among the cleverest of the Entelexeia, never merely wise, so how could she be so foolish as to suggest such a thing? "They had their chance to prevent all of this. They failed to do so, and now - "
"As did you, Duke. As did I."
"I will not make the same mistakes twice. I will not place my faith in my own power, nor humanity's, nor idle dreams and fantasies." He turns his gaze to the peaks and canyons shielding the sleeping Aspio, picturing in their place colossal spires clawing their way towards the darkness high above and wishing she could see the impossible solidness there, like an unbreakable promise. "This is about numbers, Khroma. Just a number to be satisfied to bring Tarqaron to its full strength, and Terca Lumireis will at last be made right again."
"And humankind will have been adequately punished, of course."
The muscles of his shoulders go rigid to the point of pain. "Punishment has nothing to do with it. Humans have proved themselves to be unworthy of this world."
"Duke!" Suddenly the world tilts, something strikes him on the flank and the dragon is before him, filling the entirety of his vision. He feels his side, certain she has opened him to the entrails with her heavy talons, but encounters only armor and realizes in a manner of moments that she has in fact spun him around. "Do you think you are the only one who grieves for Elucifer? Do you think this is what he would have wanted?"
She could kill him, of course. She has always had the power to tear him apart. If she chooses to do so now, there will be no ill will in his heart, for she will at last have seen what it has taken him so long to; that they no longer have the luxury of simply distrusting humanity.
"Elucifer did what he thought in his heart to be right," he replies softly. "I must do the same."
The eyes close briefly.
"Then this is the way it must be." He watches her step back, filled with a quiet resolution that fills him with cold, and he knows he should stop her. Run to her, because he hasn't seen such a look upon her since that day among the shadows, when they left Elucifer to his death. He feels it strike to his core, yet he never stops her from spreading her wings and facing the changing world. "Goodbye, Duke."
The absolution in her voice breaks something within him, just enough to make him take a single step toward her, but it is not enough. She leaps from the top of the peak and rises, slowly but purposefully...each second taking her farther and farther into the abyss, until even her wing beats are lost to him.
Duke never sees her again.
***
The light of the formula fills the places where she is gone. He works tirelessly, silently, and there is only the embrace of cryptic silence all about him, stirred by the splash of ancient water from the garden fountains.
He hesitates upon unlocking the final command. Once the ancient city rises, there will be no turning back.
Care for it.
He steels himself. Humanity will atone for humanity's wrongs. Duke taps in the formula and feels the earth begin to turn. Where he stands now will be the place his life meets its end.
He is thirty-three years old.
They come to meet him at the peak of Tarqaron and he is not surprised. It is no more than he has come to expect of them.
"Duke, we have the four elemental spirits. Their power can counter the Adephagos."
The man with the burning eyes. The Krityan who lives for her partner, the young Entelexeia. The two people he has never wanted to meet in battle - not out of fear, but because their inevitable deaths would be such a waste of potential. The six of them gather around, pleading their case as though it ever had the slimmest chance of succeeding.
"Can't you think that the world might be growing?" asks the Child of the Full Moon. "I think of the Entelexeia becoming spirits as evolution. Can't you see that?"
He hates them, then. For risking everything so naively, for being so eager to change the world. For dealing Khroma's death blow, making a sacrificial lamb of her, and for being too blind to see what the world will lose along with the Entelexeia. Perhaps most of all, he hates them for being so completely sure that what they've done is right. For all he has done, and will continue to do, he has never pretended to be noble.
But he only hates them for a moment. Theirs is a naivete that has played out time and time again. Something new and exciting has fallen into their palms and all they can possibly think of is how quickly it can be put into practice; never do they stop and consider what havoc will be wrought by "moving forward". No...he can do nothing but pity them.
He draws Dein Nomos from where it rests, acting as the base of the formula.
"...It is inevitable. Come!"
Four to one, then. This explains how they have managed to kill the Entelexeia. But he is not a wounded guild leader forced to live and die in secrecy or a delirious creature taken by aer or...
He will not fall so easily.
A raised hand throws Divine Punishing Flash, sending them all flying back to crumple on the stone. He thinks back to those brittle tomes detailing the first attack by the Adephagos. It was written that the Children of the Full Moon lingered on for several minutes after the barrier had been erected, fading away at the peak of the world they had given their lives to preserve. How he hopes this is so...that he may be allowed to look out and see the horizon one final time. That these children may do the same and perhaps, at the end, realize the magnificence of something greater than themselves.
As the room brightens with Healing Circle's power, they struggle to their feet once more. Blood is swiped from brows; weapons are gripped again.
The first tracks of exhaustion are seeping through Duke. He pushes them aside.
"Havoc Heaven!"
***
He is winged.
The light is the only thing that cloaks him now. It clings to his skin, every plane and imperfection, and he recalls another vow he made to himself so very long ago...that Elucifer would be the only one to ever lay eyes upon his bare skin. But this form is the height of his strength and he is prepared to fight to the death in it.
"Spirits? You fools! How could the Entelexeia agree to such an uncertain plain?" he wonders allowed.
The mage stares coldly out at him from beneath a heavy layer of dust and debris. "It's not uncertain. We did it! The Entelexeia became spirits." Off to her left, the princess chimes in mawkishly.
"Using the spirits to defeat the Adephagos is not a fantasy."
"You're just clinging to the past," finishes the young man. A dangerous surge of venom courses through Duke's enhanced body. Only one thoughtless enough to concoct this plan would speak of the Entelexeia, the way of life they have protected for millenia, so callously - like a worn pair of boots, a vulgar habit he refuses to relinquish.
But it is the Krityan's accusation that burns straight through him in a way her spear cannot possibly mimic.
"Your memories of him bind you. I feel sorry for you!"
His reply is measured, of course. Careful. Entirely controlled and equally justified. This is how he will preserve the future, with the utmost dignity.
But a moment - for just that moment - he cannot claim to be fighting for the sake of the world. He takes the circle of ethereal blades that surround him and lets them fly.
***
The power is flowing through him, stronger than he could ever have imagined possible; drawn from the very depths of the earth where the dead lie. He feels it inhabit every nerve and fiber of muscle...the will of the Spiral Draco weeping for his fallen children. There is no longer any pain, only a dull acknowledgment of sensation as the blade and spear collide with his skin and the small mage's fire artes move in to sear it.
Yet even with the Fell Arms at his side, he knows there is not much time. The Adephagos will be upon them soon, having multiplied to an unprecedented level. At that point, there will be no holding it back by any means.
When the Krityan finally went down, there was nothing to stop him from eliminating the Child of the Full Moon and with her, all the group's healing artes. Her head is in the lap of the small mage who scrambles frantically, but hopelessly, for one more gel. Duke has no interest in finishing them off; every life force will be vital if his plan is to succeed.
It is only the dark haired man who faces him down now, streaked with deep red and radiating something far more disconcerting than mere hatred. They crash together savagely, blades locking and artes flying. He opens his mouth to speak and the very air around him burns, and in his life Duke has seen it enough times to recognize it, but it before the blades can connect -
"This ends now! O' brilliant blade as cold as steel, rend the infinite darkness, and crush my enemies to nothing! Savage Wolf Fury!"
It cannot be blocked. It can scarcely be seen. The man's sword blows are everywhere at once, cleaving through him again, again. The pain he has scarcely noticed until now surges, forcing the strength from his limbs and the breath from his lungs, and the ground rises up to meet him and it is then that Duke knows he has finally, truly failed.
One way or another, Terca Lumireis perishes tonight.
It is a deep, swollen sort of agony that makes him wonder if he is bleeding internally. Summoning up his strength, he rolls onto his back. From this angle, the royal blue crystals aimed towards the heavens resemble shards of shrapnel poised to enter an eye. The night sky goes on and on, extending far beyond the pain.
"I'm sorry, Elucifer...I could not keep my promise..."
He hears the labored breaths of the one who struck him down. The young man enters his field of vision. "I don't know what Elucifer was like, so this doesn't mean much coming from me. But if Elucifer fought for humans during the Great War, then I don't think he'd want his friend to reject humanity!"
And just like that...
Elucifer grinning through the candlelight, sharing their visions into the faintest hours of the morning.
Lying amongst the tall grass, listening to the pulse of the earth.
Keeping warm on the battle-torn slopes of Mt. Temza, dreaming of war's end.
"Elucifer's wish. To protect the world...peace for all living things..."
Care for it...
The sounds of the group moving into formation come to him on the night air. Claiming the lone spoil of their victory; one chance to preserve their future. Duke closes his eyes.
Care for it. Such a simple vow to make and a simpler one to keep, and even this he could not do. Even now, years after parting from Elucifer, the world is in no better a state than it was when they first begun. Has he truly changed for the worse? Has Terca Lumireis?
'Elucifer. What were you thinking at the end? What became of all your dreams as they were surrounding you?'
Something flickers across the dark palette of his closed eyelids; he opens them to find the sky streaked through with the new creatures: the altered souls of Entelexeia. Freed from the confines of their blastia, drawn to gather above this tower...converging to save the world that killed them, made chattel of them, and finally converted them to spare itself. A damaged world, but nevertheless their own.
Care for it.
Duke stands.
So be it.
***
Entelexeia, humans...the demise of one race for the safety of another. The impossible light overtaking everything, until even an ancient, tainted thing such as Taqaron becomes kinder in appearance. He watches the millions of newly born spirits darting overheard, resurrections, miracles even, yet every one of them living proof that the world has been irreparably altered. The sheer beauty of it cannot disguise what has been lost tonight.
"...Was this truly the right thing for us to do?"
"I don't know. We lost all the blastia and with that, the barriers are gone," says the young man, misunderstanding his question. "But we chose that path, so I guess we gotta live with it. As long as we're still alive, we'll be okay."
Duke doesn't believe he could come up with a statement more foolish if he tried, but something in the way he says it makes his heart ache. For the first time, he allows himself to look at the man...truly look at him, his dark hair and slender jaw, the scar on the side of his neck. "You are strong."
"Yeah, well, that's because I'm not alone." When he smiles, it is so bright and earnest and familiar, and Duke knows he cannot deny what he sees any longer. As though he never left...and the last ten years have been no more than a series of illusions waiting for him to blink himself awake. Even when his back turns to make the long trek back to the ground, Elucifer has never felt closer.
"Hey, Duke! See you around."
Duke is careful not to look back.
***
He makes quite certain to get clear of viewing distance before lifting a hand to heal himself; the aer soothing numerous lacerations over his body feels like a sign of failure...he would prefer the scars. The knowledge of all that has occurred swims through his head until the skull aches.
The morning, hitherto breezeless, is suddenly stroked by the sound of a high wind. He raises his head to study the clouds but finds only sun breaking, and by the time the small cyclone has appeared before him, he knows precisely who it is.
"You..."
A smile spreads over her tiny face. "Hello, Duke." And even if her voice has changed, becoming faint and soft along with her appearance, he would know the sound of it anywhere.
"Khroma?"
"I am now known as Sylph, the Binder of Winds. But yes, you once knew me as Khroma the Entelexeia." He had known she was up there, of course. When the sky had burned with new spirits like so many stars come to life, he had wondered if she flew with them. It had given him the faintest of comforts, in a moment when all the world seemed bright with promise.
Now...
She is so small, ridiculous looking, like a child's doll wound up and set into flight. Khroma was savagely beautiful in the way all Entelexeia are. Frantically, he combs through her words for some sign, any sign, of the creature he once knew, and finds nothing of her's. She is a stranger to him, a stranger who keeps Khroma's memories.
"And what are you now, Binder of Winds?"
"The same as I have always been; a guardian of the world." Her smile fades. "And to be quite frank, offended that you need ask."
"It seems that I am destined to fail Elucifer time and time again. In the end, I could not save the world any more than I could have saved him...or you." He clenches his fist around the hilt of Dein Nomos. "I lost sight of it, the Terca Lumeries of our dreams. A world where humans and Entelexeia coexisted peacefully, as equals...never calling for the sacrifice of one another."
"You speak as though the Entelexeia have died out."
"For all intents and purposes. Krones and the young dragon, and for how long? Hunted as monsters or else slowly starved to death as the aer supply dwindles, it matters not. In time, they too will be converted by humans."
"I cannot tell you which path to follow," she says, gently, like Khroma never would have. All at once, the anger fades from his heart and he simply wishes her gone, for there is so much to mourn. "I do wish I could share the world with you as it appears through a spirit's eyes. That you could see how much life there is this morning, beginning all around us. Not the same as once was, to be sure, but joyful nonetheless, radiant. I cannot begrudge it."
"Then I leave you to it." He sets his shoulders. "I will find my own way...there are still corners of this world unspoiled by humankind. Yurzorea or Weccea...or..."
"...Ehmead Hill?"
He expects her to leave it at that, to take to the winds and fly carelessly from his life. When she does neither, he walks on down the path, long and lonely and stretching into the mountains, and the peaks above Aspio come back to him, clenching his heart. He hears the breeze picking up once more and it is finally enough to stop him in his tracks. "Khroma...please, forgive me."
"He was right. You truly are ridiculous sometimes," says the wind with a smile. It chills the back of his neck blowing by, sends his hair flying.
It almost sounds like dragon's wings.
***
From distant villages, he can hear the sound of clamor and commotion. Everyone racing to erect makeshift barriers against the monsters. Despite this, the world itself feels almost calm today; the sort of quiet that comes after a long illness.
Duke cannot say whether he will come to love it as he once did, or even if he already does, but he knows that the Krityan woman was wrong. It is not mere memories that have bound him; memories are not strong enough. The jesses that hold fastest are the ones that cannot be worn down by time alone. Just what those are, it seems he has only begun to comprehend...and as of today, he has a lifetime in which to do so.
It may be just enough.
***
As he climbs the still paths that piebald Ehmead Hill, his footsteps come more quickly...petrified of what he may find, but needing so desperately to be there. The sun is glittering on the sea, but Duke sees none of it.
The grave is broken. Split down the center, like a jagged tooth.
He rushes to its side, running gloved hands over the sharpened edges, furious and roiling with disgust, because he does not dare to hope...and then the voice comes. Not from behind him or above him, strong enough to extend beyond the cliffs and all the way over the sea, but choosing of its own volition to linger at this miniscule space on the planet, wrapped all around him like an infinite embrace.
"Hello, my friend."
~Fin~