Ghosts' Past, Omens' Future [Chapter VII]

[Sparda]

Were it not for his sharp memory and natural sense of direction, Sparda would have long ago gotten himself lost in the labyrinthine corridors and chambers of the Downward Spiral. Though haphazardly "furnished" with random objects pulled out of the many worlds it lead to, the tower itself was dark, silent and forbidding, seemingly hewn in its entirety from a single gargantuan slab of cold stone rather than constructed of any kind of brickwork.

He was drawing unnerving comparisons to the Temen-ni-gru.

Coincidence, he told himself. Whatever transcendent force had brought this structure into being doubtless had no concern for his of all worlds. The Dark Knight continued to wander, Luce and Ombra in his grasp, wary of the unnatural silence that pervaded the Spiral's endless hallways...

[Tajna Rasha]

Nothing like the quiet stillness of a predator’s hush that could hold a moment frozen in time – no – this was true, chilling silence. The Downward Spiral was usually not so unfamiliar to the chaotic menagerie of creatures coming from other dimensions, all pouring from the countless gateways that inhabited the chambers of the tower. Its length far surpassing the simple limitations of sight; the winding double staircases amidst the centre of the structure drew an eerie vision of the sheer mind-numbing dimensions of the complex. Lights flickered in the distance, littering the shadows with opalescent stars, but anyone familiar with the Downward Spiral knew they were simply portals and rifts leading into the far corners of the cosmos. Truly, from its desolate and dark mystical interior, the Downward Spiral seemed more like a strange alien hive rather than a means to travel through an infinite amount of different realities.

And it was so silent.

Knowing well something was amiss within the labyrinthine vestiges of the tower, Sparda continued on his way – his senses in full alert and exploring every nook and cranny of the place. Despite his careful approach, the Legendary Dark Knight stumbled upon the view of an impassable obstacle clad in the same black stone that composed the entirety of the Downward Spiral – a dead end. Spinning around on his heels to return to the double-helix stairwell at the centre of the edifice, the demon was greeted by the same image. A quick glance behind confirmed to Sparda that he was very well trapped within the confines of a tunnel-like chamber. This was getting dangerous.

[Sparda]

The only sign of the Dark Knight's irritation at the dead end he came across was a scowl that twisted his face for a moment. That annoyance rapidly turned to confusion when he turned on his heels to return to the staircase, only to find the corridor behind him at an end as well. This wall had simply appeared without a sound while the demon's back was turned; was the whole tower reshaping its interior somehow? And if so, to what end?

The Dark Knight looked the wall up and down. Hopefully the central stairwell was still just beyond it, which meant he needed only remove the obstruction. However, if there was anything lurking in the vicinity, making too much noise in the process would surely lure it; just hearing the chilling echoes of his footsteps warned Sparda of the unnatural acoustics of this menacing structure.

To this end, he holstered his guns, then pulled from his inside coat pocket a small, blank slip of pale white vellum. Thin sparks of pale red light pulsed across its surface for fleeting moments, as if it was reacting to the demon's latent supernatural power. He raised his hand and pressed the sheet to the wall, where it held fast as if taped in place. Holding his hand but an inch over the surface of the sheet, the Dark Knight focused, channeling his potent magical energy into the demonic paper.

The pulses of red light returned, brighter and longer, criss-crossing the sheet until an array of ancient runes shone upon it, encircling a large sigil at the centre. Sparda stood back a few feet, eyes narrowed in anticipation, and snapped his fingers; and with a faint, high-pitched whine, the spellseal came to life, sending rivulets of pulsing red energy spreading across the wall as if it were cracking and breaking apart. With a final flash of light, the spellseal disintegrated - as did the wall.

Impatient to see if he had been right about the stairwell still being there, the demon strode on through the pile of dust on the floor... He stopped in place for a moment, grumbling in irritation, to see that the stairwell had indeed vanished, only to be replaced by a vast, circular chamber. At its centre stood a raised platform about five feet across. Large as it was, the hall was illuminated only at floor level, bearing large sconce torches around the walls and central podium whose blue flames were not enough to penetrate the darkness that enveloped the tall ceiling.

The demon advanced slowly into the chamber, Luce and Ombra at the ready. His eyes roamed warily - he was half-expecting the whole room to vanish from before him if he turned his back on him. His every footstep echoed into the darkness, chilling the Dark Knight's body with an unshakeable dread.

Whatever force was causing the Spiral to reconfigure so impossibly, he had a feeling it was trying to lead him somewhere... or to something.

[Tajna Rasha]

The subtle flicker of the azure flames and dancing shadows did not help to alleviate the feeling that the knight was being manipulated. And with every single step towards the platform it became more and more obvious that the room itself was going through another metamorphosis in accordance with its visitor’s entrance. At first, only the torches seemed to change; slowly pulsating like the careful pacing of a heartbeat - it would not take long for Sparda to realize the motion came from none other than the thud in his own breast. A bizarre elation came over the area, stretching the distance between the demon and the platform as though he were taken by an overpowering sense of vertigo. The axis of gravity shifted ever so faintly, and with no point beyond the room itself for reference the trek only seemed more perilous with every instant.

The stone beneath Sparda’s feet illuminated with each of his steps – the feeble, opalescent light rippling over the cold surface, drawing an even stranger picture of the room: Runes were carved into the ground. The walls. And they began to shine with the same silver gleam that emanated from Sparda’s feet… all spiralling towards the platform which now shone like a white pyre. The luminescence was so vivid every floating particle above it was revealed, creating a mist-like flux over the area. And it grew. Grew until it became blinding. Everything blurred as though the room faded away like a dream with the advent of the light. One thing remained clear however…

And that was the shadowy silhouette standing on the platform like a sentinel, fixing Sparda from the shadows of the cloak that covered it from head to toe.

[Sparda]

The demon allowed himself to cast his eyes downwards for a moment, observing the pulses of silver light that spread across the floor with each of his footfalls, illuminating illegible runes inscribed upon every visible surface of the chamber. The gathering light seemed to focus upon the central platform, growing to a blinding intensity.

Squinting, Sparda raised an arm in an attempt to shield his eyes, already struggling for a moment to adjust to the sudden powerful light in what had been an almost pitch-black surrounding. His fingers rested readily upon the triggers of his precious guns as he approached the central podium...

Only when he had adjusted to the light did he properly perceive the shadowed figure stood before him.

He'd recognise the silhouette of that cloak anywhere.

"I should've known," the Dark Knight growled irritably, lowering his arm and slowly, reluctantly, holstering his guns. Though it pained him still to admit such a thing, they and the rest of his weaponry would be useless here.

"If you've come to gloat, save your breath. I have better things to do with my time than be condescended by a ghost."

[Tajna Rasha]

Tajna Rasha – once a great general of Mundus held in the highest degree of his demon hierarchy had fought alongside his people when Sparda had rebelled and single-handedly defeated the dark Emperor. For his failure in protecting his lord and his land, the general had been made an example of; his wings, symbol of his nobility, were torn from his back before his broken shell was sent to the deepest layers of hell to be dissolved by the evil energies of the place. No sooner than millennia later after Mundus’ defeat at the hand of Dante, Tajna Rasha had returned under the guise of a wraith and a member of the Council of Legion. In transcending death, the ghost had shown Sparda powers in no relation to the Tajna of old, and defeated him – no – killed him a multitude of times. Within the span of a single conflict, Sparda had witnessed the same amount of powerlessness as the phantom had before his death and eventual resurrection. Despite all of his advancements as a warrior of justice, reality bore an ill omen… There could be no victory against such a foe.

Instantly, the pulsation around the platform receded, bringing the room back into darkness – there only lingered a faint silver hue within the runes, glittering beyond the shade like faint stars. Looking back up to the instrument of Sparda’s past demise, two blue orbs shone brightly under the black cloak; the eyes of his deadliest adversary.

‘‘Legendary Dark Knight, Sparda…’’ The dissonant telepathic voice echoed as though on cue. The figure stared down unapologetically at it’s interlocutor, reminding them both of the roles they had played in their last confrontation. ‘‘Still attempting to humour us when you know we have already heard your remark well over a thousand times.’’

[Sparda]

As if still fighting against the light, Sparda narrowed his eyes, though this was in fact a mere display of his annoyance. He had plenty of experience with telepaths - he himself was among them, in fact - but there was something off about Tajna's rasping voice, something... invasive.

"You know what I find ironic?" the Dark Knight asked of his old enemy, tugging at the gloves upon his hands as if adjusting the fit. "I've seen the interesting conversation you had with Amoura not too long ago, and I've learned that you're not, in fact, truly omniscient..."

He stepped closer, staring down the Ghost of Legion.

"Even you have no idea what will happen when the Third Aspect awakes."

The demon stood now mere metres from the last foe to whom he had lost in single combat. "Now, I know you know everything we're going to say here, but that doesn't matter to me. If it were to go unsaid, this whole encounter would be pointless. And let's be honest; we both stand to lose everything we have if the Third is allowed to succeed in its task. So humour me, spectre, for I have questions of my own."

[Tajna Rasha]

Tajna waved a dismissive hand towards the Legendary Dark Knight. Immediately, the flames of the accursed spectral blade came into Sparda’s view. Instantaneously, his approach had been forced to a halt with the tip of the mystical weapon not inches away from his throat. At this distance, the haze of the blue fire licked at the demon’s soul; the undeniable pull of death could be felt, freezing him to the bone. Beyond the light of the blazing sword, the eyes of Tajna Rasha reflected nothing but the harsh reality that in an instant, the ghost could repeat the same nightmare that had occurred not two years ago.

‘‘Silence your frustration towards my presence here and now Sparda, for what we will say can no longer go upon deaf ears…’’ It spoke, the jarring tones of the telepathic voice momentarily silencing all else. Pausing an instant still, the phantom finally withdrew its hold over Sparda, and the blade retreated back into the confines of its palm. Spinning on its heels, the Council Member stepped further unto the platform, inviting Sparda on the pedestal.

‘‘Amoura Ethelia has refused to confide our dilemma into the hands of Utopia.’’ Tajna began, the voice seemingly less strenuous upon the mind as before. The ghost turned around. ‘‘Her motives are foolish, and have deprived her of a valuable ally in fighting the Arashi.’’ It spat, before returning its attention to a singular set of runes that were only faintly more illuminated than the others on a stand. ‘‘Maricul, though a past adversary, is the only person in existence to have survived the full scope of an Arashi’s power. Her impossible survival granted her knowledge beyond her station on her predestined path.’’

Looking up into the distance, there was a significant silence from the wraith until it finally turned back around, the light in its eyes visibly dimmer than at their usual.

‘‘Knowledge we cannot access…’’

[Sparda]

Right down to business, it seemed. Fortunate for the Dark Knight, it then was, that the phantom was already proving so forthcoming with information and his opinion of events. The demon had stood completely unbowed at the tip of the Ghost's blade; he was at an odd, grudging peace with his decided inferiority in comparison to his sole companion in the vastness of the Spiral, and showed no contempt at the momentary show of power in spite of the dread that attempted to take hold.

"Maricul has little interest in the fate of Genesis any more," the demon retorted, noting Tajna's subtle beckoning and taking a slow step up onto the pedestal. Amidst the darkness of the chamber, the runes upon it glowed still. Sparda cast his gaze over them for a few brief moments, soon conceding that this lexis was one he had never encountered.

"Her only motive now is the establishment and expanse of Utopia, and her self-proclamation as its ruler. It's really rather contradictory to her belief that gods should be disregarded and that mortals needn't answer to any higher power..." The demon made no attempt to conceal the disgust in his tone. She had been so immature and weak in their very first encounter that he could quite easily have annihilated her, down to the very last cell, if he had put his mind and the heights of his power to the task instead of merely fighting her off. Now she was simply beyond his power to harm, and would remain so for the foreseeable future. It was infuriating.

"If and when her personal goals bring Utopia into conflict with the Third, then the enemy of our enemy may prove to be a friend," he continued, "but the Seductress cannot be trusted."

[Tajna Rasha]

Tajna’s gaze remained fixed on Sparda, and whilst the ghost seemed passive as the words escaped the demon’s lips, a violent light emerged within the unnatural eyes of the phantom at the mention of Maricul. As soon as the Dark Knight was done with his deliberation, the telepathic voice responded in due.

‘‘Trust is as immaterial in this conflict as your petty faith in stopping the End.’’ Tajna boomed so unapologetically the sheer volume of the answer almost seemed to literally echo off the walls of the cave in a cacophonous harmony. A moment passed where the resonance dominated over the calm silence that had previously lingered between the two. Realizing this, the phantom averted its eyes into the empty vestiges of the surrounding darkness and almost as on command, the clamour hushed itself. Never before had Tajna Rasha been prone to such an outburst. The Council Member knew the motion would not go unnoticed.‘‘Maricul will have no choice but to submit once she realizes that the End is not bound to the same plane as the previous Arashi .’’ It continued, this time far more evenly.‘‘If you have of heard our conversation with Amoura Ethelia, then you must know already…’’ Tajna brought about a pointed silence once again between sentences, although the realisation probably already dawned on Sparda’s conscience.‘‘Every reality, every timeline and dimension in existence will come to a halt as soon as the End steps into Genesis, including Maricul’s precious Utopia.’’ Again, the ghost’s tone became grim. ‘‘If she is not already aware of this, then she is very naïve in thinking her powers extend beyond that of fate.’’

[Sparda]

Sparda almost winced visibly at the thunderous volume of the spectre's retort, the echoes seeming to continue endlessly up the chamber as if there were no ceiling, each reverberation magnified by the deafening silence they had shattered. A look of questioning surprise crossed the Dark Knight's features; Tajna always spoke with such an even, matter-of-fact drawl, and that outburst was very uncharacteristic. Had his words angered the phantom?

It mattered little. Silencing the din with but a glance into the darkness, the Ghost of Legion continued, returning to his normal level tone, turning the Dark Knight's attention to the conversation he had indirectly witnessed between Amoura and his present companion. A frown curled the corners of Sparda's mouth upon hearing Tajna's opinion of what he had seen in his investigations into the nature of the Third Aspect; he seemed to concede that the End would annihilate all of existence, this realm and beyond, and that he saw no way to stop it.

The demon stared into the bottomless wells of light that were Tajna's blank eyes, and slowly, his face twisted into a black scowl of contempt which seemed to deaden the silence still further.
"Fate... What is fate to you, Tajna? You can go to and fro across time as if it holds no meaning for you!" It was time now for the Dark Knight's own outburst; though his shout did not echo as long or far as the Ghost's, yet his retort struck a far deeper tone, resonating with a bass that almost caused the floor beneath them to tremble. "You of all beings should know that the paths ahead of all of us are constantly rewritten with each decision we make. And if your omniscience can't perceive what the End will bring when it awakes, then we simply need to find another way to look upon it..."

By now, Sparda too had reined in his frustration and leveled his voice. "Just because you can't see the course of action we must take, Tajna, doesn't mean it isn't there. After all, what else could you and Validus be preparing Amoura for if not to give her the ability to avert this supposed annihilation...?" The demon trailed off, as if something else had just occurred to him. He hardened his gaze upon the wraith. "And speaking of courses of action, let's take a detour back to the Temen-ni-gru and indulge a personal curiosity of mine..."

He stepped a tad closer to the phantom, whose unnatural power held no terror for him now. "Why, pray tell, did you leave me alive back then? If you were under your superior's orders to send some manner of message to Devil May Cry, then surely outright killing me would have gone so much further towards demoralising the others. You may have simply wished to beat some humility into me, since teaching such a lesson would be pointless if I didn't live to learn it. But your motives are never so superficial... Which means, of course, that you saw all this coming. And you have seen my part in it."

Sighing faintly, the Dark Knight stepped away again, taking a deep breath. "Tell me, my old foe. What role have I to play in this convoluted scheme of yours?"

[Tajna Rasha]

In stark contrast with Tajna Rasha's previous outburst, this time the ghost retained its characteristically impenetrable allure. For a moment, nothing happened between the two as they both gazed into each other's eyes. In an near-ceremonious fashion, the phantom drew back the fabric of the dark cloth that covered its head. The motion was so subtle, so nonchalant that had one not known Tajna better, it could have been thought the ghost actually sighed.

''Even when you hold the answer within your grasp it eludes you...'' The voice murmured pointedly as it escaped the confines Tajna's mind. The Council Member, unashamedly proceeded to remove the last of its clothing; revealing the blue, broken form beneath - the form of what had once been one of Mundus' proudest and most powerful generals - the form of someone Sparda had once known and forgotten after the millennia. Even though the aristocratic devil would never openly admit it, Tajna knew... The Legendary Dark Knight paled and respected the power that form represented. Again, unapologetically, the phantom's voice snaked its way back into the demon's mind. ''We have foreseen the merging of the realms eons ago when you were still a young legend, Sparda. Ever since, it's been our duty to see to it that fate would not bring about the End but no matter how abrupt or subtle the shifts were made, history always rewrote itself to accommodate the affairs of destiny.''

Slowly, Tajna turned around, falling back to look at the unique set of runes on the elevated platform, giving Sparda a view of the torn and ragged wings of the once-angelic figure of Mundus' general, and his former brother in arms. How far apart the two had grown with the flow of time... the thought was abruptly stopped with the ghost's interjection. ''Beings such as Maricul and the Ghost of Legion; they are but pebbles in the river of fate - throw one in the water and the current will simply divert its flow around it, resuming on its course thereafter.'' It continued on the same even tone, its gaze following along a solitary trail of symbols along the spiralling walls of the chamber. ''There are pieces, however, that hold much more weight; links that are crucial to the events that must take place.'' The trail stopped, and Tajna turned to face its interlocutor once again.

''Amoura Ethelia is such a object.'' And there it was; the truth Sparda had been waiting for.

''Recognizing this, our presence among the Council of Legion gave us certain power over the timeline, such as the outcome of your confrontation with its members.'' The phantom's eyes flashed like deep ambers for a moment. Only a moment. ''As Amoura's anchor to her humanity, we could not allow you to perish: After the vampire's defection, were merely broke your false sense of power as we knew you would serve as her sole moral compass against the Arashi from thereon. As a result of having us send her into an alternate timeline to hone her skills, without you, the Night Angel would have never come to accept her lineage, nor would she have so flawlessly sought to face Aper...'' And survive, would have been the natural progression of that sentence. Tajna's voice rose subtly.

''What role you ask, my old friend? You are merely Amoura's guide through hell, and to that purpose, to the Seductress you must bring her.''

[Sparda]

The look upon the Dark Knight's face as his companion shed his cloak and bared his true form was an odd sequence of fleeting surprise, sudden recognition... and grudging respect. Somehow he hadn't quite been sure whether or not this was who he thought it was. Now Tajna had proved him right; the phantasmal horror who had risen to such superior heights of power had once been his equal, a brother in arms under Mundus' banner, and one of many officers to stand in the way of Sparda's rebellion and fall. How times had changed for both of these old comrades.

"Guide through hell, eh?" he finally responded, drawing a deeper breath and sighing as if in resignation to an unwanted but necessary task. "I admit, I had taken it upon myself to protect the girl after Ranka's departure, but I never imagined that role would lead me here..." He faced his old kinsman, casting his gaze over the ragged wings hanging from the spectre's back for a moment. The tale had travelled quickly of the punishment Mundus had meted out upon Tajna for his inability to put an end to the Dark Knight's rebellion, and here was a visual reminder of the price the Prince of Darkness had so often levied upon those who failed him...

"What troubles me most is that I don't quite see Maricul's role in helping us resolve this predicament," he spoke up again. "The sooner she realises that she and hers are in as much danger as us, the better, but her cooperation will no doubt come at a price... Knowing her, I fear I can guess what she'll demand of us." At this, the Dark Knight visibly shuddered, certain he knew full well the cost he would have to pay to enlist the Seductress' help. She was egotistic, and would surely enjoy vaunting her power over him if he came to her seeking aid.

"Tell me... how far forward can you see? First of all, what does Amoura stand to gain from Maricul's assistance?"

[Tajna Rasha]

Tajna visibly pondered upon the question from which the answer treaded on the boundaries of time itself. Even after the light had faded from the ghost’s eyes, it remained there in silence – obviously puzzled by its own findings. It would require no feat of omniscience on the ghost’s part to know the response would leave Sparda in a similar state of perplexity.

‘‘An instrument which we cannot fully conceive…’’ It replied at length. There was a certain tension around the silence that established itself between the two, though not due to any measures of hostility from either of them but rather because of the streak of riddles that had emerged out of Tajna Rasha. Well aware of this, the phantom continued. ‘‘One thing is certain to us however; it holds value beyond Utopia itself to Maricul.’’ It explained. Incidentally, there were always means to deduct what one could find even in the event that they could not actually gaze upon what they sought. Tajna obliged itself to indulge the aristocrat on a piece of information all had seemingly forgotten over the course of the few months of the conflict between Maricul and the rest of Genesis. ‘‘Remember that the world of the Seductress is made from the remnants of dead realms – whatever measure of power she possesses over it will be meaningless once the End steps upon its soil.’’ The thought of the End seeing Maricul as little more than a vermin even at the seat of her power was frightening. If the power of a goddess was not enough to face the Arashi – what possibly could?

Then it finally became clear.

‘‘It is a mean to challenge fate.’’

[Sparda]

The Ghost of Legion was very much correct to predict a measure of bewilderment from his old brother in arms when he gave his answer; and the point he made about the very origins of Utopia piqued a still higher level of interest in Sparda, as an expression of remembrance crossed his face.

"You're right," he muttered, in that low, introspective tone his voice so often took on when he was thinking out loud. "In fact, all of Utopia is just an amalgamation of fragments of worlds destroyed by Aper's pleasant little power overload. Which means it's all still within the gods' domain. Maricul didn't truly create it from scratch, which means in all likelihood she won't be able to rebuild it when the Third has been and gone, if she even survives..."

As he spoke, the Dark Knight's voice lightened somewhat, as if he was suppressing a level of excitement at these spoken musings. "If we can show her her inability to escape from the End, we just might force her cooperation... But how could..." He trailed off as another memory struck him, and he snapped his fingers, turning back to the spectre.

"Maricul's book of life. Surely she can't be too stubborn to throw in with us after she's read for herself how the Third will destroy her and her little paradise... But then there's the matter of this instrument you speak of. Do you have any idea what it could be?"