Soul Calibur - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Dawn of Fate ❯ Chapter 1

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

Avaunt, and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes which thou dost glare with!" -William Shakespeare, Macbeth

The evil sword that brought terror upon the world was shattered by the fated one… but was Soul Edge really over, or was this just the beginning? Even in its shattered state, the evil sword continued to give off an evil aura. Its many shards were scattered across the land. Draco had thought its destruction would be the end, but he was wrong- the legend of Soul Edge would continue. As long as wickedness existed in the hearts of men, the evil blade would never be gone forever.

.::~::.

Six long years had passed since the sword was destroyed, but during this time there was one who sought to revive the evil blade for his own selfish purposes. This man, Zasalamel, had lived countless lives, only to be reborn again. The one thing he sought above all, and craved for, was death. In his previous life he had came close to fulfilling his desire, but in the end he failed.
The man had wandered the lands, collecting as many shards of the demonic blade as he could. Finally, he obtained enough shards to complete his sinister plan. The man took the many fragments to the remains of an old shrine and aligned them in a pentagram.He preformed an ancient forbidden ritual of the dark arts.
Evil energy came forth from the many fragments and formed into a pillar of dark light. The pillar burst through the roof of the shrine and made its way up into the sky, then it dispersed, bringing the second rain of the Evil Seed.
“Yes… fulfill my desire!” yelled Zasalamel in triumph.
This time, the rain of the Evil Seed would be different than the last time. This Seed would awaken those who had fallen years before, those with great spiritual energy. All this would come into place with Zasalamel’s plans.
“Yes, it shall begin once again,” murmured Zasalamel with a smirk on his face.

.::~::.

In darkness, two souls who had deeply loved in each other in life wandered. Suddenly, a bright light peered through the darkness and a booming voice bellowed.
“Welcome, Draco Faust Williams.”
“Wh... Who said that?” asked Draco.
“I am the will of the spirit sword Soul Calibur,” said the voice.
“Soul Calibur? But how?” asked Draco.
“I have a mission that you- and only you- can carry out,” said the voice.
“State your business,” said Draco.
“This is my command. Soul Edge’s fragments are being abused in an attempt to revive it. Destroy them,” replied the voice.
“Soul Edge? It was already destroyed- and in case you haven’t noticed, I am no longer among the living,” said Draco.
“You’re wrong. Soul Edge still lives on, but if you accept my terms I will restore your body and give you back your troops to command,” said the voice.
“Why should we? The world doesn’t need us,” replied Draco.
“If you don’t, your children will suffer the consequences; what has been set in motion they cannot stop alone,” said the voice.
Draco looked at Tira, and then turned back to the light.
“We accept you proposal,” said Draco.
“Excellent!” said the voice as the light dispersed, and Draco and Tira blacked out...

.::~::.

A storm touched down in Ostrheinsburg; dark birds surrounded the grave sight as if they knew there masters were about to return. Thunder roared, and then bolts of lighting struck six tomb stones in the cemetery. The bolts of lighting were so hot that the sand that covered their graves had become glass.
An armored hand rose from the dirt, then the rest of Draco’s body followed. Draco looked at his hands.
“All my wounds… they’re gone!”
Draco tasted the air, and felt the rain drops hit his skin. He had never felt more alive.
Suddenly a shapeless mass came forth from his right hand, and took the form a sword resembling the spirit sword, and from his left hand came forth a sword that resembled the demonic blade.
“I see… so their powers still exist within this body,” said Draco as he sheathed the swords on his back.
Draco walked though the glass that covered his grave and made his way to Tira’s grave. Draco frantically dug to see if Tira too had been restored. When he found her body, it was intact, and she too was breathing.
“Tira, wake up! We live again!” said Draco.
Tira’s eyes opened, and she smiled.
Draco, we’re alive again?” asked Tira.
“Yes! Now let’s go wake the others,” said Draco as he took her hand, and placed her arm over his shoulder to help her out of her grave.
Soon after they awoke, Drake, Jynx, Aeon and Storm Shadow followed suit. The White Dragons had been reunited.
“Ah, Ostrheinsburg! I see Draga, Tela, and Endora have rebuilt it. Come, warriors, we must arm ourselves for the battle ahead,” said Draco.
All over the world, sleeping warriors awoke from their eternal rest. Soul Edge’s evil would not even allow the dead to rest in peace; it had summoned them to fight once more. Warriors such as the demon slayer Taki, the spiritual warrior Kilik, the evil Cervantes de Leon, and many others all awoke from their eternal slumber that day.

.::~::.

Even the depths of the underworld stirred with the souls of the wicked dead. Slaves to the eternal fires of Hell marveled as lights like little fireflies darted this way and that, yearning release into the realm of the living. The very foundations of the underworld were crumbling.
Wondrous shouts of “I’m alive!” and “My body!” rang clear through the fiery abyss as souls found their respective bodies and the dead gradually became the living once more.
One soul in particular, a spark that shone white-hot expanded, taking on human shape, human voice…
“Where am I?”

.::~::.

Draco’s warriors all entered the confines of Ostrheinsburg and headed for the forgery to get weapons. To their delight the new master of the castle had kept their weapons to remember them by. Draco found a replica of his old sword Faust and took it down from the rack.
“Not the same as the old one, but it may prove useful,” said Draco.
Tira looked around, seeing all the ring blades she had collected over the years. The Ixion Draco had given her when they first met was gone, but in the corner she found another like it. It was an Ixion ring blade that had belonged to her late friend, Mia Warui.
Drake reforged a copy of his Mrtyu Scythe after finding the dragon fang that once augmented the old one, which it seemed Endora didn’t use it in the construction of her new weapon.
Jynx simply found a copy of her Kris Naga swords which Endora had obviously made as an ornament, but they were well sharpened so they would serve her well.

Aeon and Storm Shadow simply took up their old weapons which were still intact and still sharp after all these years.
The newly restored White Dragons also armed themselves with new armor and clothing. Finally, they were ready- ready to fight the darkness once more. As soon as the time was right they would make their move.
At the same time, in a distant land, a soft laughter rendered the air. The mismatched eyes of one man glowed in triumph, unaware of the resurrection of Draco Faust Williams, or of what was about to be unleashed…