Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Sacrifice ❯ The Time of End ( Chapter 63 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

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Sacrifice

By: Melissa Norvell

Chapter 63: The Time of End

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"The Time of Ending..." Fife trailed as the expression on his face turned into a serious one. This was the core of what the war was about. This was the very foundation on the outcome of all things, as well as an important prophecy carried out by the vampires.

"What's 'A Time of Ending'?" Ko had heard different things from all of the vampires regarding the subject but she could never get a straight answer as to what exactly a 'Time of Ending' meant.

"In many societies there are many prophecies that foretell the last great battle of good and evil. We vampires have this legend as well," Shizume explained. "I will demonstrate a few of these legends that foretell a Time of Ending. They all begin with the last battle of good and evil, which take place in the modern-day world of the viral vampire.

These words are taken from Paladin as said to her by Azraeyel, they are known verbal vampuric sources."

The vampire began to recite those words, as they were said exactly.

And there grows near the foretold time.

A time when the truth breaks fourth, like a chicken from its shell, at the moment of birth into the world.

The truth is upon the wind and the wind becomes a gale.

Once set free, the truth travels and releases knowledge.

There shall be those on both sides who do not wish the truth known, and yet, shall it become known to all.

'Sounds like fate to me...' Hiroshima thought to himself upon hearing those words. 'Then that means...They'll eventually find out my secrets as well.' He frowned at the thought and held sorrow in his eyes. The spiky-haired angel's worst fear from the human world - to be judged.

On that day, shall human turn against human, vampire against vampire, and brother shall slay brother and friend shall slay friend...in the name of truth.

Then he shall have been the first but, his truth shall go unheeded and the children shall betray him.

One of his own shall bring forth the tempest, and the child shall lead and so shall he become the first and be the last.

In the end, there shall be only two kinds of humans: Those who believe and understand and those who fear.

The truth is upon the wind, and the wind becomes a gale and shall blow across the land to devastate all within its path.

The wind shall blow ill and so doth the Time of Ending become a plague upon this land.

The messenger rides fourth alone.

The wall of stone is false 'tis but made of clay which is shattered as the balance is shattered.

They who speak this truth are the first to die.

'That is also a reason that angels cannot say all that they know.' Hiroshima pointed out the similarity in conjunction to his own life as a divine being.

The messenger carries fourth the divine truth unto the masses. The death is accomplished by the hand of evil, which is mistaken for the Sword of Right.

Keiji's green eyes went wide as the flash of a wild-eyed winged boy ripped through his thoughts like a hawks tenacious claws through its prey. 'The legend...' The boy thought, after wondering why this Time of Ending sounded so familiar.

But though the lips are silent, the heart screams and the words rise as the phoenix to herald the End of the Beginning.

As the storm grows more ponderous, THEY shall hear the wind song and what was fantastic will be reality and reality proven.

He who is the first, he who is the last, shall know the truth.

As they do, so shall all and the tempest subsides leaving only destruction, a memory...the voices echo and the truth, evident.

And brother kills his brother, and friend lies to friend.

Fife glanced down in shame.

...and loves are lost as friendships die as the wind blows cold.

The silent battle rages, the balance is no more and yet, doth the end come slowly...with promise of renewed light.

"This was the foretelling of 'a great and awful war that would rip families apart, turn friends against each other and bring about the devastation and death in its wake." Shizume finished her explanation.

"That sounds very similar to the legend of the Winged Boy." Tsurugi pointed out.

"The Winged Boy?" Shizume blinked in question. She had not heard of such a legend, one of the few people that it had not reached.

"It's a legend about me," Hiroshima explained. "The exact legend is as told- There grows a great evil, in the body of a boy with wings of black and white. This child is perceived as the son of Satan and shall be judged by those around him. There will come a time when the truth is released and the Winged Boy will release his vile feelings for humanity and slowly bring about their fate. Those who have so judged him will be judged in turn. The disloyal angel will slay those both innocent and bias. Those who are killed first are those who have betrayed him, his wrath shall evoke a plague and devastate all within his past- for this angel had been twice judged and his character thrown awry to prejudice."

"I've never heard the whole legend before," Keiji glanced at the blue-eyed man. He came from Saesugawa and he had never heard anything like that before.

"But in the Time of Ending, everyone agrees to battle. This fight is on a planetary scale to include both humans and vampires. No more secret, no more underground, no longer limited to just one community," Shizume informed.

"There are many different Times of Ending. I think even now, the journey we are taking will be a Time of Ending in itself," Hiroshima wasn't sure of what would happen on their journey but he knew that something life-changing would come of it, for both he and his human companions.

"We have many treaties with humans that follow under this Time of Ending. The treaty keeps the balance, between human and vampire."

"Well, a war of such magnitude would prove the existence of vampires to the world," Fife replied. "There are many truths involved here and a few more important than all the rest."

"Vampires have always been safe because of the myths. As long as people believe the myths, the actual vampire remains safe and able to function freely due to the disbelief of mankind," Bass stated. "However, the truth about vampires would change the balance."

"Yes, but there are many question that one must ask themselves. Will humans want the benefits? Would they feel the real vampire was a threat due to his strength, psychic ability, longer work history that allows him to gain greater education or wealth?" Treble asked.

"Would that be considered a threat?" Zangetsu questioned. He could see both sides of the story and to be honest, the ex-Nighthawk didn't really mind existing with the vampires so he didn't see the problem. There was probably a lot of things that could be gained from working with a vampire.

"With all of the questions, no wonder they want to hide things," Hiroshima replied. As an angel, he there were questions that were brought up about him as well and he knew of the reasons that the vampires hid things about themselves. Some of which, were the very same reasons that he could not reveal anything to the humans in his group just yet.

"There are good reasons that the truth should be told," Treble told the angel. As an advisor, he thought it far better to know the truth, then to be decieved and misinformed and hover in a shroud of lies.

"Yes, death to humans is on a massive scale due to 'natural' causes. What would happen to the vampires if the humans die?" Fife asked. After all, the humans were the very sources that kept them alive.

"Why would they want to endanger themselves for humans? Why not let them die if they caused it themselves?" It seemed logical to Hiroshima. If humans were going to destroy themselves, then why not just let them? If it was fated to happen, then it would happen regardless of who tried to save them.

"But others feel humans can be saved, but if they do, vampires exist. We'd risk the loss of safety due to myth," Fife told him. Coming out of hiding from another bunch of lies was not something that he wanted to do just yet, especially on a massive scale.

"Humans have always feared what they don't understand and tend to destroy what they fear. They hate the vampires because of myths and the lies of religion. It's pure choice whether or not they keep the treaty," Hiroshima replied. There have been far too many times that he had witnessed that aspect of human nature. He believed that it was up to one's own mind to make decisions on whether or not to fear and hate, and if that hate and fear is decided upon, then they were responsible for their own actions.

"Some humans already know of our existence as a truth...and it cannot be altered," Fife looked to Hiroshima and spoke.

"It is important to note that this Time of Ending will be a Civil War in its earlier stages," Shizume pointed out.

"Like it is now?" Keiji asked.

"Yes, It started with the ideological and territorial disputes that are confined between Sumeria and Baklava. These disputes, however, are no longer secret and neither is the prince's return. That single element will mark the beginning of a Time of Ending. Vasca even prophesized it."

"Why would Vasca prophesize that?" The drummer continued to question. "Why would he want to bring that on Prince Fife?"

"Fife has at least something to do with this war," Shizume concluded as her sights lay solely on the heir to the throne. "I would tell you but my words have been silenced by King Vasca himself."

"The truth will destroy everything..." Hiroshima knew all-too well the effects of knowing all truths, even those about himself. If anyone who was incapable of handling such truths were to find out, the cost could be devastating.

"Yes, no one can hide things forever," the prince knew that the few things he still clung to as secrets would eventually be brought to light, and he would be judged once again.

"Not all truths are like yours, prince," the angel remarked.

"You look awful, are you sure you're alright?" Chichiri had been staring at the angel for a while and noticed how much he had looked like he'd been through hell in a hand basket. Hiroshima had also been very quiet and withdrawn from the group, which was not the normal for someone who was so opinionated.

"I'm fine; at least I don't look as bad as you," the angel folded his arms over his chest and smirked weakly.

"Hey!" Chichiri exclaimed to the sarcastic joke, although he was happy that Hiroshima seemed to be in a better mood.

Keiji stood, staring at the legend before him in deep thought as he tried to piece together the events of his own shattered past. Something had clicked in his head upon hearing both the Time of Ending and the full version of the Winged Boy Legend and he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He was only a child, standing like a wounded deer in front of a slightly larger, shadowy figure. The figure looked to the lanky form of a twelve year old boy with spiky hair, two ill-kept wings that were missing feathers and adorned in a sleeveless shirt and tattered pants with a shredded scarf around his neck. The only thing that had been distinct about the figure was his piercing blue eyes, the same color as-

'Blue...His eyes were blue like-'

Then, all of his memories of Hiroshima and the things he has said to him, mixed with the spoken words of the Time of Ending and the Winged Boy Legend ran through his mind in striking realism.

Those who judged him will be judged in turn.

Keiji's green eyes widened in realization. 'His eyes are the same...' He tried to picture that unknown face that had smirked at him that fateful day. The only thing that stood out from that face were striking pale blue eyes that held the same depth and feeling as Hiroshima's. It was a heavy, sad expression, much like one that had seen far too many deaths to count. It was one who mourned, one who hated and one who harbored regret.

The truth is upon the wind and the wind becomes a gale. The truth is upon the wind and the wind shall become a gale which shall blow across the land and devastate all within its path.

He remembered that day, when Saesugawa was destroyed. Flames engulfed the city, people ran in a frenzied panic into the streets, some wounded and some even on fire. No one could escape the fate that had fallen upon the land, and to this day, Keiji was surprised that he himself did, even though his memories were jarred and blurry.

Keiji also remembered his first encounter with the angel who claimed to be the winged boy. It was in the Rose Hip Club, where they were to perform a gig. Instead of performing a great concert and flooring the audience, they found that their audience had been slain by the legend.

One thing that Hiroshima had told him when they first met sent chills down his spine and unnerved him like nothing else.

"I'm your worst nightmare, kid."

Shall bring forth a tempest...

'Humans are such fickle beings. They say that they don't care about something but when it's being jeopardized then they regret their choice.' When he thought about it, it was actually very insightful and it showed him a great deal about the human psyche. If it wasn't for his situation at the moment, with Fife being critically injured, he would have let it sink in but things were flying by so fast that it had slipped his mind.

They who speak the truth are first to die.

He remembered the blood running down the angel's hand after they had all been stoned outside of Serenande's Castle and how Hiroshima fought off Flora's hydras with great determination and tenacity. In many ways, Keiji admired him because he always had the strength to face everything that stood in his way and no matter how badly he was being beaten, he never showed any weakness. Keiji knew that Hiroshima had pains but he could only wish for that strength to hide them.

'Angels suffer too. We take burdens away from society. We are forced to do nothing but sit by and watch as time rides by. We can only let fate take its course. Angels know all there is to know, for we are messengers brought to the mortal plain by divine powers.'

The messenger carries forth the divine truth unto the masses.

The boy remembered the time that he had alone with the battered angel, when he was recovering after a fight with the angry plant goddess. He thought about how the wounded angel lay there in bed and asked him what difference it made and that he was still a jerk so his opinion wasn't important.

Keiji also recalled that fateful day when he was a child and he had stood up to the wild figure.

'I won't run from you,' the small child stared into the untamed eyes of the Winged Boy.

'Then suffer the consequences.'

'How can you be so cold?' He remembered asking that distant voice. Even though it was only a few years older than his own, it didn't sound like a child's voice but a mechanical doll that lacked any emotion.

'I've been broken beyond measure, destroyed beyond despair and numb beyond stimulation. You see, it's so easy to hurt others when you feel no pain.'

'You deserve to die! How dare you kill my mother!' He was emotional from all of the devastation that had gone on around him, as well as the fresh image of his mother's murder burned into his mind. At that moment in time, Keiji wanted nothing more than for the angel to suffer. Suffer as he was suffering.

'I am bound by these forsaken thoughts. This place has become too depressing for me, so for now I cannot die,' the angel's voice actually had some emotion in it. Those cold, ice eyes had thawed and the unstable sorrow shown within their depths.

'You're delusional. The world is still there even when you open your eyes!' He shouted. Keiji had once remembered his father saying something like that to him when he had gotten too emotional to handle his problems. It was a sense of realization instilled on him in a young age and he hoped that the angel would listen to him but he could tell that he was beyond measure.

'That's why they all must die. This may not be the happiest ending but it's the right one,' the delusional and lost being told him as he held his sword straight out to his right side. 'Divine Magic! Wind Torrents!' The wild one called out as a powerful gust of wind blasted Keiji and threw him backwards into the dirt. Debris picked up and the young, green-haired boy could see nothing. He attempted to block some of the dirt and air with his forearm but it didn't work.

The young angel disappeared behind a shroud of debris and he was gone.

As the storm grows more ponderous, THEY shall hear the wind song.

"I think we should go and ask Vasca about Baratone. I have a feeling that he can tell us what we need to know," Hiroshima's lowered voice brought Keiji out of his train of thought and into reality.

"What were you wanting to know?" He also heard the king's voice fill his senses as he turned to Vasca and asked him who Baratone was - a signal that he was now in reality.

"Well," Vasca looked to Hiroshima and asked, "Do you remember Orchestra?"

The vampuric angel nodded, "that was the Radical Catholic High Priest who wanted to kill all of the vampires because he believed them to be creatures of hell."

"Well, there is a myth that implies that vampires are descendants of Cain," Treble noted.

'How ironic.' Hiroshima thought for a moment before he spoke. "Baratone and Orchestra believed that. He tried to crucify the vampires to carry out his goal or ridding the world of their existence but Baratone is different..."

"How?" Fife asked, since he did not remember Orchestra and had assumed that Hiroshima must have faced off against him when he was travelling with Princess Teruna.

"Baratone loved your mother. The entire reason that he's in Sumeria is to obtain an item of mine," Vasca informed as he walked over to his throne. Near it was some sort of tall, flat object beneath a black sheet of sorts. The vampire pulled off the black fabric to reveal a round mirror with a nearly black border and pitch black glass that reflected one's image in strange, pristine way. It worked as good as any mirror that was made from a normal glass. "This is the Mirror of Eternal Darkness. It used to belong to Amante. It's said to possess the powers of resurrection."

"So, he's trying to resurrect Amante?" The legend wouldn't have guessed that that was Baratone's main objective but why would he put himself and his army through a war only to gain one object?

"Why?" The prince wondered aloud. Amante was a vampire, wasn't she? Why would someone who hated vampires so much want to bring one back from the grave? It didn't sound logical.

"He thought that I forced her to love me," Vasca explained with a saddened glance to the ground.

"Did you?"

"No, she fell in love with me. Perhaps I should explain," the king told his son, as he began to recall the true events of long ago.

'It was a time of war and Sumeria and Baklava were fighting again. This was before Orchestra. I believe the priest at the time's name was Soreda. I was young, only seventeen. When I was on patrol, I found a woman laying among a bunch of dead bodies in the midst of battle. I rode up to her on my war horse, Vireo.'

The large, drought-type horse stopped mere inches away from the crumpled body of a woman. She was dainty in structure and one would assume that she could easily be broken in half by how skinny she way. The one, unmistakable feature that this woman possessed as a large amount of long, wavy, navy-blue hair that tumbled from her head and hung down to her ankles. She was clad in a white summer dress with spaghetti straps and the pristine color of the dress was tainted with the splatters of blood from the surrounding dead and the dirt of the ground.

Sitting up slowly, the woman looked at him with lazy, sad and calm eyes that were the same color of her hair.

Vasca dismounted his steed and walked up to her. He could see by her dress that she did not appear to be an enemy at all, just a helpless girl who had been caught up in a catastrophe.

"Excuse me, Miss. Are you alright?" He asked gently.

"Yes, I'm just a little frightened. I was attacked by these men. Perhaps you could protect me." The long-haired woman informed him. Vasca looked her up and down to check for physical damages and aside from light scrapes, cuts and minor bruises, she seemed to be fine. The navy-haired woman just seemed a little shaken up from battle.

"What's your name?" Vasca asked. More than anything, he wanted to know of this woman's identity.

"It's rude to tell you my name when you haven't told me yours," the woman pointed out with a small smile.

"I'm Prince Vasca of Sumeria. I'm from the Amaterasu Clan," the prince informed.

"I'm Saiboshi Amante," the woman introduced as Vasca took her hand and kneeled, kissing her blood-sained limb.

"I'll protect you, come with me," she seemed trustworthy enough and Vasca did not want to endanger her further if she really was just someone who had been caught up in the war. The least he could do was to get her to a safe place where she would have no worries. He mounted Vireo and held out his hand for the woman to grasp.

"I'd be delighted to," Amante smiled and closed her eyes as she reached up to grab his hand. The black-haired prince pulled her up and she climbed on behind him.

"What a beautiful horse. What's its name?" The woman wrapped her arms gently around the man's stomach as they trotted through the mass of dead bodies, both human and vampire. Most of the fighting had stopped in the area that both of them had been in and Vasca was merely checking on the progress of his armies. It seemed as though nothing could be done in such devastation, so he had been on his way back to the castle when he found her.

"His name is Vireo. He's been my pet for a long time," Vasca patted the side of the large animal's black neck and ran a hand through his short, mohawk-like mane. "It was said that he is blessed."

"Why is that?" The curious woman asked.

"We have the same birthday."

"What a lucky horse," Amante smiled.

"Hold on tight," Vasca warned before the black war horse began to bust into a full gallop.

"Who? Me?" Amanted asked playfully as Vasca nodded with a smile. "Well, I'm-" The girl began to say something but an explosion from underground caused Vireo to rear up suddenly and knock the girl's petite form onto the ground. She faintly heard Vasca call out to her.

After she had hit the ground, she quickly tried to get to her knees. The girl managed to look over her shoulder as she saw a cluster of arrows headed towards her. She gasped as they neared her, marking her death with every point aimed her body.

"Let's work this magic,” she heard the prince call out in a calm tone as he began to write a stream of symbols with his finger in a langue that looked to be some form of Gaelic or Celtic symbols. "Wind God, answer my call!" He commanded as a burst of wind surrounded the fallen Amante, deflecting the arrows and sending them back towards the Holy Army, who scattered from the assault of their own weapons.

"You saved me," Amante looked up at Vasca, surprised that he would protect her like that.

After all, she had barely known him, and he, her.

"I told you that I would protect you, and I stand by my word," the vampire smiled down on the girl, extending his head for her to take. After gazing into his beautiful blue eyes for a moment with a flattered and kind smile, Amante reached up to take his hand.

Their sweet moment was short-lived as the bitterness of battle consumed their friendly moment. A sword was plunged deep into the vampire prince's shoulder and his blood steadily flowed from the wound as it stained his blue and white war clothes with a deep crimson. Amante simply stared up at him, unsure of what to do and horrified at the sight before her.

He had truly, risked his well being for her, and she felt helpless to save him.

...To Be Continued...