Beyond Black Doors Ch. 0

Authors' Note: This is a continuation of the novella's Prologue. We had to cut it because free memberships have a 50kb limit. Sorry! ^_^;;

You can read part 1 of the story here: "Beyond Black Doors Prologue+Ch. 0" 

For more of the story, check out the main site http://beyondblackdoors.blogspot.com--there's a new episode everyday! ^_^v

“Don’t you remember this place?” the huntress asked her. They were sitting in the middle of a meadow lying on the fringes of the Payon Forest, a small garden notable for its beautiful carpet of tiny white flowers.

         Venris hugged her knees closer to her, thinking. She was surprised at how comfortable she was around this certain girl. The huntress, clothed in standard hunter’s gear and threadbare tights seemed to be more than what she appeared. For Venris, her presence was oddly comforting. Like she knew for the longest time…

         Then her thoughts drifted to faded childhood memories so blurred that only bits and pieces could be recalled. There were flashes of a brief image showing a garden…

         “Mm…I guess not,” the huntress sighed, then laughed. “Come to think of it, don’t you remember me?”

         Venris snapped out of her reverie and took notice of the other girl’s eyes. There’s no mistaking it, we have the same eyes…

         “Am I supposed to know you?” Venris finally blurted out.

         The huntress shrugged. “Actually, no. Your father made sure that my existence was kept secret.” She smirked at that. “Well, almost. I am still alive, after all. He got my mum though, bless her soul.”

         “What do you mean?”

         The huntress toyed with the leather lacings of her short skirt. “Well. To cut the story short, I’m your father’s illegitimate child. Err…you don’t mind, do you?” She looked up at Venris, seemingly regretting her words.

         Venris shook her head, occupied with recollecting her earlier memories. Images of a garden flashed through her mind, and of little girls’ voices, filling the air as they played…

         She does look familiar, Venris decided. I could not forget her eyes…and that rather mousy hair…

         “We used to play together…” Venris said, hesitatingly. “There was this garden…”

         The huntress nodded encouragingly. “You’re getting to it,” she winked. “You shouldn’t forget family, after all.”

         A name came to her.

         “Rottie…” Venris mouthed the syllables softly, a whisper, a small remnant of a past that had almost escaped her. “I called you that, but your name is Selrotta…”

         “Good enough!” the huntress clapped her hands in glee. Then she stopped, and held Venris’ hand solemnly. “You were taken away from us when you were nine years old, Venris. You should not have forgotten about me so quickly.” There was a pregnant pause.

         “But anyway,” Selrotta sat up and hugged her long-lost half-sister briefly. “I’m glad we met again, Ven. What were all those rumors about you? Were they true?”

         “Heh. It doesn’t matter if they were. It wouldn’t change the people’s view of me anyway,” Venris said drily. “You’re lucky. I bet you can do anything you wanted.”

         “As long as it’s within the constraints of the financial budget (which isn’t much), yeah.” Selrotta shrugged.

         There was a period of comfortable silence between them. Venris plucked many of the tiny white blossoms and along with their stems produced a perfect white crown of flowers. I haven’t done this for a long time now, Venris remembered. I must have been an expert at this when I was a child…

         “I remember you used to love playing in this garden, little sis,” Selrotta remarked, out of the blue. “You used to complain about my mother not letting you go out here much, because you were so little and she was so worried that he would take you. Which he did.”

         “Mm.”

         “You loved these asters so much…”

         “Asters?”

         Selrotta lay down on the white floral carpet. “These flowers are called asters, Ven. We used to call you the Princess of the Aster Garden.”

         That thought made Venris smile. “Really?”

         “Yeah. And you turned out to be a princess after all,” Selrotta stretched out, yawning. “Lord Dastonia decided that one of his bastards--er, female bastards, if there are any--should become his heiress. He picked you because you were cuter than me,” Selrotta pouted.

         “I’m not going to be a ‘princess’ any longer. You heard that I’m going to be married off, I suppose?”

         “Of course. It’s one of the biggest news tidbits in Rune-Midgard.”

         Venris winced at that. She herself did not know the extent of the publicity laid out for the event. “I thought so.”

         “I bet you want out, huh.”

         “Do I have any choice?”

         Selrotta sat up again, brushing off the bits of grass and petals off her upper garments. "Yeah. If I have any choice in the matter, I wouldn’t let my favorite little sister be pushed around.” She groped her side pockets for a pen and a piece of paper, then laying the strip of paper against her left palm she scribbled a short note on it, then folded the paper and handed it to Venris.

         “This note will be your ticket out of this shit. Just say the word, now, that you want out.”

         “But...”

         “Just say it.”

         “…”

***

Steel on steel rang out into the warm Albertan night.

         The full moon rode the sky, unobscured by any cloud. It shone down into a small alley in downtown Alberta, where two friends were locked in a mortal struggle against each other. No wind blew in from the sea, as if everything waited in bated silence for the outcome of this fight.

         Spinner struck aside the Diradem's dagger, sending it whirling away into the dark corners of the alley.

         Diradem dropped down to one knee, breathing hard, feebly warding away Spinner's unending thrusts. His clothes were cut in several places and he could feel the burning of a dozen tiny cuts, feel the potent venom coursing through his veins, feel his entire body weakening...

         I must defeat him before he kills me, his thoughts ran wildly. But I can't...he's my friend.

         Spinner looked down upon the young thief. His voice was choked with sadness. "You should have fought with poison, kid. That would have given you a chance."

         Moonbeams caught the tears on Spinner's eyes, followed them down his face.

         "I'm old, Dir. It won't make a difference if I die. But you--you're life's just beginning. You can make a difference. Argos venom works quickly through one's system. You've only got a few seconds left. This is your last chance," Spinner had stopped his attack; now, he raised his sabre high above him, two hands gripping the handle. And then he brought it arcing down.

         Diradem had no choice. His life was failing, he needed an antidote fast, and Spinner was relentless. This is the only way to stop him.

         Time seemed to slow down as the sabre fell down to finish him off. He reached into his left boot with his shield arm, pulled out the emveretarcon-sharpened dagger he kept as a spare weapon, and pushed a hidden catch on the pommel. As livid purple venom sprayed upon the blade, he brought it up in a smooth motion--

         There's no time to hesitate, Diradem Tarkis!

         --and buried it into Spinner's gut with a final burst of strength. The dagger plunged through the boiled leather of Spinner's armor. The sabre halted its deathly descent.

         Spinner staggered back, clutching his stomach. "Anacondaq venom...very good, kid." His face contorted into a grimace of pain. The old thief dropped his sabre and fell to his knees. Then he keeled over.

         Diradem crawled over to the old man. "Damn it, Spinner! It didn't have to be this way."

         The old thief chuckled, coughing out blood. "Kid...listen...the Black Circle...this plan...you must stop it--"

         "Don't talk, Old Man. Hold on. Izlude has antidotes with him. Maybe--" He cradled the Spinner's head onto his lap, searched around for something, anything!

         "No, kid..." Old Man Spinner smiled with blood-flecked lips. "There's a...warehouse...the Shadows keep...an artifact there...destroy it...and the plan...will be stopped...They'll leave you alone, then..."

         "Don't you die on me, Old Man--"

         "Promise me..."

         Tears rolled down Diradem's face. "No...hold on, Spinner!"

         "You're...the son I never had..." A sudden coughing fit wracked the dying thief's prone form. "So tired, kid...so tired..." gasped Spinner as he closed his eyes and shuddered one last time. Then, he was still.

         "Stupid old man..." Diradem cried as he held Spinner's lifeless body.

         That artifact. I will destroy it. He had no idea what the artifact looked like, but he knew the Shadows kept a warehouse along the docks, a cache for smuggled goods. For Spinner.

         But first he had to hurry back to Izlude's shop and drink some green potions.

         He tried to get up but found that his legs had turned into jelly, his vision had began to dim. The argos venom...too late--!

         As the adrenaline surge left his body, the poison took over. Diradem collapsed upon Spinner's corpse.

         Far above the alley, the full moon disappeared behind dark clouds racing a sudden gale.

***

If Venris were to be asked right that moment whether she had the guts and will to escape, she would say no. But at that night, in her room, she found herself tying several blankets end to end, making a makeshift rope. Hands fumbling, she repeatedly made mistakes in that simple task but still she managed to produce a fairly stable rope to aid her in her escape.

         She then stood up and rubbed warmth into her arms, being immensely nervous. She was so used in going with the flow, in obeying her father’s every command. And now-what she was going to be went against every little thing that she did right from when she taken under her father’s shadow.

         She was not sure she could live through this major life-changing decision that she just made.

         She took out the slip of paper Selrotta wrote for her and re-read it again for the umpteenth time. In the scant moonlight through the darkness of the room she could make out the few words written on it with blue ink:

Leo von Frisch,

Please make sure that the bearer of this note is granted admission to the Midgard Academy. This will change lives.

Blitz Harper

P.S. You goddamn owe me lots so you better make sure you get her into the academy, or ELSE.

         She put it back into her pocket after reading it.

         Selrotta neglected to tell her who “Blitz Harper” was and why she signed with his name as if it was hers, but whoever he was, Venris was almost certain he could be one of the top students into the academy, being able to pull strings within the institute.

         So I am going to the academy as a student. And start a new life, maybe. But how can I, when my name is well-known?

         There was still the problem of her recognizability; Venris’s hand strayed to her face as she thought about it. I’ll just have to deal with it.

         Her gaze shifted to the newly-installed mannequin at the far corner of her room, the mannequin wearing her diaphanous wedding gown. The faceless mannequin also had the wedding veil on, obscuring its face.

         What would I give to make myself anonymous.

         Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a light tapping against the glass of her window. Someone was throwing pebbles against it. Running towards the French windows, Venris parted the lace curtains and opened the window, leaning to see who was outside.

         It was Selrotta, bringing with her the hunter who had insulted her the day before. Venris failed to keep her slight disgust in check.

         The hunter noticed it, and could only roll his eyes at her.

         But that night wasn’t a moment of bickering.

         “You ready?” Selrotta whispered loudly, her voice carried away by the salty wind of the Albertan sea, but Venris managed to hear and nodded.

         “Well then, let’s get down to business.”

         Venris hurried back inside and grabbed the makeshift rope, tying one end of it securely to the bars of her window and threw out the other end outside. It dangled ever so precariously over the side of the Sea Side Villa, swaying in the damp wind.

         Well, here goes.

         She started with lifting her leg carefully over the windowsill, straddling it. Her hands gripped the rope tightly; the sweat of her palms moistening the fabric. She eventually managed to lift both legs out of the window. Still sitting on the windowsill she leaned out and looked at the sharp drop below her, three floors beneath her. She gulped.

         “You better make it fast, the sleep spray we used would not last much longer,” Selrotta hissed. “Don’t worry about falling, our falcons will snatch you up surely, and Blitz would be able to support your weight anyway.” Selrotta pointed towards a pair of falcons circling overhead, watching over the scene.

         Blitz? So he’s Blitz Harper…of all the people to help me…

         She eyed him critically once, letting him know that she was very much displeased with what he did to her the day before.

         Blitz could only shrug.

         Taking a deep breath, she slid off of the windowsill and let herself dangle. It was then that she found out that her arms were not strong enough to support her weight, and they began to tremble immediately.

         “Oh no…” Venris let out, her voice strangled. Her hands threatened to give way, shaking violently as she tried her hardest to cling to the rope.

         Her difficulty did not go unnoticed to the hunter-couple. “Damn, it’s way too early for her to fall!” Blitz whispered urgently to Selrotta, who was unconsciously biting her nails.

         He held out a hand upwards, to the falcons. “Beat!”

         One of the falcons swooped down and landed on his shoulder, beak affectionately pecking at the apple-o’-archer perched on Blitz’s head. He whispered to it urgent instructions and immediately sent Beat the falcon to Venris.

         Venris still managed to climb down one notch despite the violent struggling of her hands to hold on. She even dared to look down, a big mistake, which gave her vertigo. “Ah!!”

         Blitz’ falcon flew closer around her, watching and waiting for any sudden downward movement.

         “Just hold on!” Selrotta said, wringing her hands. “Chopper!”

         Selrotta’s hunting falcon dived down and joined Beat in looking out for Venris. The two falcons now served as a lookout for Venris, ready to grab her shoulders should she fall.

         “I can’t do it…”

         “Just climb down for a few more notches then you can let go, Lady Dastonia. The two falcons can’t support you all the way if you fall down that high up!” Blitz warned.

         “I’m…trying…”

         But her hands just stopped trying and her grip slackened.

         “Oh god, Blitz!” Selrotta’s hands flew to her mouth in horror.

         It all went too fast for Venris. Her skirts flying about, she fell… Into the Abyss were the words that passed her for that one mind-numbing moment until she felt the painful bite of the two falcon’s talons on her shoulders, and the slowing of her descent.

         The falcons eventually gave way to her weight though, and Venris fell with an oomph into outstretched arms. Blitz in turn crumpled under Venris’ weight coupled with downward momentum. “Ack…Lady, if you weren’t my beloved’s sister…I’d have thought you’re taking a fancy at me,” griped the hunter of the Archer’s Apple under Venris’ weight. “with the way you’re always falling into me--literally.”

         “No time to crack lame jokes, Blitz,” Selrotta said as she pulled Venris up. “You have to at least bring her to the Midgard Academy’s gates.” So saying, she straightened her arrow quiver by her side and summoned Chopper to perch on her shoulders. “I’ll have to take care of some business here.” She looked pointedly at Blitz. “Alone.”

         “But--”

         “We already went through this for a million times, Blitz.” Selrotta said grimly. “Marrying Ven off to some thief is just the last straw.”

         “But Lady Dastonia is not going through with the wedding anymore!” Blitz protested, half-shouting now. “What do you think we’re doing right now? Having a tea party?”

         Venris looked on as the two argued. I barely even know them, she reflected. But they’re both working to get me out of here. Incredible.

         She then noticed the gleam on Selrotta’s eyes as the latter fiercely defended her decision to stay. There’s no way Blitz Harper is going to change her mind with that kind of determination.

         “But why, Selrotta?” Venris said, all of a sudden. “What are you going to do?”

         “Just because…” Selrotta closed her fists so tightly even Venris could see the knuckles whitening even in the pale moonlight.

         Then Venris remembered what Selrotta said to her, in passing. “When you said he got your mother, did you mean…?”

         Selrotta looked away. “Well, yeah. He took away my family. He even took away my right to have a surname.”

         “I see.” Such a terrible fate.

         Blitz took a deep breath. “I could give you a surname, Sel,” he said solemnly. “But if you’re going to keep on throwing your life away like this I may not even have the chance to.”

         “You worry too much.”

         Venris was about to give the pair their little privacy when they suddenly heard commotion above, from Venris’ room. Lights flickered on in Venris’ room, giving off an ominous orange glow the flowed out to the spot where the three stood.

         “Damn, we lingered too long,” Blitz spat. “Sel, you can’t stay here!” He grabbed at the huntress’ elbow, trying to pull her to him, but Selrotta was rooted to the spot.

         “Let me go, Blitz!”

         Urgent murmurings of Lord Dastonia’s guards could now be heard from afar. They were losing time, but Blitz was still holding on to Selrotta…

         “Miss Venris?” gasped a voice from Venris’ window.

         Venris’ head snapped up. Oh, god. It was Rumika, her maid. I’m caught. It’s too late!

         But Rumika made no show that she finally “caught” Venris. Instead she threw a piece of filmy, translucent material out the window, to Venris. “You’ll need this, Miss!”

         “What?” Venris caught the fabric, and marveled when she realized what it was. My wedding veil?! She looked up to Rumika, questioningly.

         “Cover your face, Miss,” Rumika whispered with a smirk, and tapped a finger to the side of her forehead. “Common sense.”

         Heh. That was incredibly simple. Why didn’t I think about it?

         Blitz by that time gave up. “Come on, Venris,” he muttered. “And be quick!” So saying he grabbed Venris’ arm, dragging her away from the Sea Side Villa. “Sel’s hopeless. She always goddamn is.”

         Selrotta waved a short goodbye to the two. “Be careful Venris. Our Princess of the Aster Garden.” She smiled, ruefully.

         “Be careful too, Rottie.” Venris gave herself one last lingering look at her half-sister before she turned away. Mouthing a silent thank you to Rumika who watched on, she put on the veil as she and Blitz ran to the pecopeco tethered to a tree just outside the walls of the Sea Side villa. They were both thankful that the two guards stationed by the gate were still under the spell of sleep.

         “I’ll just bring you to the Academy’s gates,” Blitz grunted as he helped Venris up the huge riding fowl. He climbed on after her, and gestured for Venris to put her arms around his waist. “I’m going to have to go back to the stubborn bitch to make sure she’s still breathing.” He struck the pecopeco’s side with his foot and they started their journey south, the pecopeco cawing in the night as they went.

         Fleeing from the Villa and into the fringes of the forests surrounding Alberta Venris looked back to the slowly disappearing figure of her home, through the ghostly fabric of her veil covering her face.

         Goodbye.

***

"Oho! He awakes!"

         Diradem pushed through black clouds of unconsciousness. A round bearded face uncomfortably near his face. Izlude. And he could smell what the merchant had for dinner. He found Izlude's shoulders and pushed him away as he staggered to get to his feet. His head hurt but he seemed to be alright, otherwise.

         He was not in the alley anymore. He was in Izlude's shop. His jacket and shirt was off, and bandages run the length of his arms and most of his chest. Several empty bottles lay on the floor near where he lay.

         "Green pots. One wasn't enough to save you," the merchant beside him said.

         "My clothes--"

         "--were ruined. Had to cut 'em off to get to your wounds. Your pack's right there." Izlude gestured him to where his backpack lay under the counter. His buckler lay beside it, scratched and dented.

         "Ah. No worries. I've got clothes there--" he clutched his head and staggered as a wave of vertigo assailed him.

         Izlude came beside him, held him up. "Easy there. You're still woozy from the poison."

         "I'm in a hurry. There's something I need to do before I leave Alberta..." He picked up his backpack, and rummaged through it finding a dark blue silk long-sleeved shirt.

         Diradem noticed that one of the merchant's arms was covered with bandages and his face had some bruises. And the shop's shelves had all tumbled down, spilling the merchant's wares all over the floor. A Mr. Smile mask lay amidst the rubble. Izlude shrugged at the thief's unspoken question, "Heh. You be lookin' far worse than I do. 'sides, those smiling thieves were just kids. Darn brats, sent them off crying back to their mums."

         He finished dressing, tucking the end of the shirt into his leather pants. He picked up his backpack and buckler. "Where're my daggers?"

         "Hmm? They're right there on the counter. Nice work you've had done on them."

         "Yeah...hey, listen. Thanks for the help, Izlude von Prontera." He pressed a purse full of zeny into the large merchant's palm.

         "Aww, you shouldn't have, you know." But the grin splitting Izlude's beard told him otherwise. And the merchant did drop the purse into his belt pouch readily enough.

         Diradem smiled at the man, nodded and stepped out of the shop.

         Now to break into that warehouse.

         He stopped. The wedding would be three days from now. But by then, he'll be long gone from Alberta. He looked to the north. Past all these buildings is Sea Side Villa. And there, Venris Dastonia is...sleeping right now, probably. Could she have liked him if they met differently? Ah, but she won't. That's for sure. Because you're a scoundrel, Diradem Tarkis, and she's...she's everything you can't have. Don't be foolish, just forget her--

         He was almost run down by the sudden appearance of a pair of riders on a single pecopeco. He watched as the giant flightless bird rushed past him. Gah, you'd think Baphomet himself was pursuing them. One of them even had a wedding veil on. Weird. Crazy newly-weds.

         Shrugging, he made his way towards the docks, mind surging with conflicting thoughts of mourning for the friend he killed, and longing for the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

***

Leo von Frisch studied the incredibly pale-complexioned female standing before him closely. The hem of her white nightgown was torn and muddied; and she was even wearing a veil. All in all, she looked like a faceless ghost.

         He was clutching the note she handed to him. Crossing his arms, he leaned his back against the damp stone walls of the Academy’s main hall.

         “Lady, you come in charging in here in the dead of night and demanding entrance to the Academy in the middle of a term? What’s Rune-Midgard coming to? He sighed, and massaged his temples. “Normally, I would refuse of course. Midgard Academy is not a charity case.”

         “You’ll be properly compensated when the time comes,” Venris said, in clear tones. “I’ll make sure of it.”

         “You’re probably one of them runaway brides,” Leo von Frisch remarked drily. “Properly compensated. You probably have big caches of money stacked somewhere.”

         “What an astute observation.” Venris said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Except for the part about ‘big caches of money.'”

         “Ohoh!” Leo von Frisch exclaimed, head thrown back with laughter. “Ladies. I like ‘em with bite.” He then composed himself and then walked over to a nearby desk and rummaged in one of its drawers, from which he produced a thick book and a pen. He put it on the desk and beckoned Venris to follow.

         “Sign your name here,” the Academy Instructor said, as he pointed at the page where the book opened, to the first blank next to the last name. “That’s all you have to do to get in. You should be grateful that Blitz was the one who made the recommendation, or else I wouldn’t even consider.”

         Venris took the pen from him and was about to sign her name, but before she was about to write V something struck her.

         She paused for a long time.

         Leo von Frisch raised an eyebrow. “Well? Don’t tell me you forgot your name.”

         I need a new name. With a resolute shake of her head Venris bent over the desk and wrote her name on the Book of Lists:

         Sevrin Astergarden.

***

It was a simple matter for a thief of Diradem's talents to break into the Albertan Shadow warehouse. He slipped easily past the two Shadow thieves (Damn novices, Diradem thought, not for the first time tonight) and entered the warehouse. He stalked through silent piles of crates filled with smuggled goods: cigarettes, narcotics, Al de Baran wine, even fruits. At the rear, he found a locked steel door.

         He peered at the lock, nodded. Skilled fingers selected two long picks from a pack on his belt. Within a few seconds, the lock gave a satisfying click. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

         The small room was bathed with a throbbing glow, emanating from a cylinder set upon a table in the center of the room. An open crate lay beside the table. Beside the glowing cylinder was a book and quillpen.

         Diradem edged closer to the table. The crate was empty, except from some packing straw. It probably contained the glowing cylinder. He flipped the book open. It contained records of the warehouse stock. A new entry read:

         Unknown Device #2874SP

         Diradem focused his attention on the cylinder. His eyes found it hard to latch on to its smoothness. The throbbing glow seemed to come from inside it, and yet the cylinder was metal, opaque. So this must be the artifact Spinner talked about. What is it exactly? A container? He couldn't see how it would open though.

         He picked it up and nearly dropped it as a rush of energy surged through him. He could feel the throb now, as if it was a tangible heartbeat.

         What is this?!?

         He turned it over and over but couldn't find any seams on it, no way of opening it, much less any idea how to destroy it. Finally, he slipped it into his backpack. He'd find a way to open it later, on the airship, when he's far away from here. Far away from the Shadows. Far away from Venris Dastonia. Irritably pushing that last thought from his mind--why is she suddenly invading my thoughts?--he slid out the door. And almost ran over the girl about to open it from outside.

         For a moment, he stood in shock, staring at the girl's black robes emblazoned with a twisted circular rune. The young flame-haired Black Circle mage appeared to be in the same state of surprise. Diradem recovered faster. He spun low, catching the back of the mage's knees. The girl tumbled with a small scream.

         "Thief!"

         Leaping over the prone girl, Diradem raced through the crate-filled warehouse. Arcane words pursued him and he ducked just in time to avoid a blazing bolt of magical fire. Crates exploded in flames. He zigzagged through the warehouse, ducking behind piles of boxes, as the mage pursued her, destroying more crates with errant fire-bolts.

         He broke through the last pile of crates, dashing for the warehouse doors. Just a few more feet, Diradem! The doors slammed open and the two novice thieves stepped inside, knives drawn. Diradem pulled short. The two blocked the only exit.

         "Don't let him escape!" screamed the girl from behind him. A fast chant and then a wall of fire erupted at the door, catching the two novice thieves in it. Their screams added to the mage's mad shrieks. Burning flesh filled the air. And then the mage launched into another spell.

         Diradem thought fast. He must escape before the mage locked onto him with one of those fire spells! Sucking in his breath, he made his decision: he charged straight for the two burning thieves, knocking them aside as he dived through the fiery wall.

         He landed outside, hair singed a bit, but otherwise unharmed. He rolled to his feet and ran away, not stopping until he was several blocks from the burning warehouse.

         He walked briskly through Alberta, frequently looking behind him for signs of pursuit. Luckily, there was none. Soon, he saw the Kafra Airship docked in the center of a circular flower field. It was near dawn, faint tendrils of sunlight were starting to creep across the sky.

         At the ramp leading up to the ship stood a Kafra girl, a representative of the Kafra Corporation. She beamed at him. "Good morning, sir! We're happy to be of service! Where are you headed?"

         He scanned the list of destinations on a sign next to the girl. "Uhm, Izlude, please."

         "Wonderful!" the girl cried gleefully. She opened a notebook and took out a pen. "That'll be 900 zeny, sir! I'll need your name too, Mister--?"

         Diradem looked back at the city, taking it all in. He's free now. He's starting again. It's like a rebirth. All I need now is a new name.

         "Uh...Mister--?" The girl repeated uncertainly.

         He turned back to the girl, smiling. "Elenium. Fynn Elenium."

(end of prologue and chapter zero)
The adventure continues in here: http://beyondblackdoors.blogspot.com Please check it out! ^^v