Sometimes you just have to wonder… what are the circumstances that bring people, places, and happenings together? Are such meetings predestined like an unavoidable fate? Or through subtle manipulation on our part, do we create the chances that we take? People speak of destiny and preordained happenings as if we’re merely livestock to be herded about with little left to our choosing. As if we’re nothing more that grains of sand buffeted about by the rolling tides.

     I refuse to follow such half-wits.

     We met somewhere north of the Amareki border in a dispatch house, and I must admit that at first, I despised him. Or more specifically, his type: the kind of person who seems too full of themselves to realize just how insignificant they really are. I casually observed him from my dim little corner of the dispatch house, noting his every move; I couldn’t help myself, as people who elicit my severe distaste on sight alone intrigue me. So as I followed him through my pale blue hair that always seemed to hide somewhere around half my face, I noticed him pacing back and forth between two dispatch desks. He was obviously unsatisfied about some thing or another, for it wasn’t long before his angry tenor drifted my way.

     “Now listen here, Mr. I’m-So-High-And-Mighty-Because-I-Was-Ordained-By-The-King’s-Supervisor-Himself-To-Get-Fat-Behind-A-Desk. I don’t need anyone to accompany me on such a simple mission. It calls for an investigation of the Ruins of Elleth-G’aeal, right? I can do that alone. It’s a one-man job, if that one man is me!”

     “Sir, your rudeness is brash and uncalled for. This investigation calls for a seven-man party. I highly doubt you could pull the weight of six others, let alone stand where six would fall?”

      I saw a glint in my target’s brown eyes before he resumed speaking again. “Well, excuse me, Mr. Dog-Of-The-Government. I’ll try to watch my tongue. As for standing where six fall… I could take this entire room full of Ryoshi down single-handedly.”

     At that remark, the usual chatter that accompanied any dispatch house died in an instant, and all eyes averted to the cocky redhead. Clearly, claiming that he could take on each and every Ryoshi –as we officially hired hunters are called- present won him enemies faster than assassinating the king himself would have. I myself did nothing. Nothing but grinned inwardly. I couldn’t wait to assess him on how he handled the situation.

     “You’re gonna do what now?” a slightly drunken Ryoshi called from the opposite end of the dispatch house. “I bet my grandmother’s… er… daughter could kick yer ass!” More such comments followed, and few made little more sense.

     Sensing the impending riot, the Dispatcher rose and summoned his guards. “Quiet, the lot of you! I’ll not have you brawling in my presence! Take such bestial activities out of doors!” The rabble died just as soon as it had started, for few were willing to stand against the Imperial Guards of Amareki.

     “And as for you,” the Dispatcher nearly spat as he turned to the redhead that nearly incited the riot, “you can have your mission, and I hope to the gods you never return from it. But I will not let you take it alone. You must choose a partner from this very crowd you’ve just insulted.”

     The red-haired rabble-rouser merely grunted as he turned to face the rest of us. After one quick scan, disappointment was rather apparent on his face, and I knew just where it came from. The Ryoshi around these parts were mostly small-timers; few of them had completed any missions past a rank two or three. And this was a rank seven.

     His disappointment became more pronounced with a second perusal of the room. He stepped forward, about to forcibly volunteer a husky man that looked as if he’d seen some sights in his lifetime, but it was then he spotted me. And it was then our fates became intertwined, if one believes such things.

     In two paces he was before me. I acknowledged his presence with a mere sidelong glance that I hoped conveyed what was on my mind. What exactly do you intend, standing before me like so? Be gone.

     However, he failed to notice my latent animosity towards him and extended his hand. “The name’s Liam. Nice to meet you, partner.”

     My, did I enjoy his impertinence.

     I rose before him, nearly even in height, and looked him in the eye. He returned the stare with slightly more geniality than I had hoped for. “What makes you think I’m willing to be your ‘partner’ on this suicide mission of yours? Find someone else to drag along to your death.”

     Half a smile formed in the corner of his mouth. “Heh. I’m not going to die. You of all people should know that, Mr. Amber-Eyes. After all, why should I take one of those inexperienced losers when before me stands one of the very last Ser-”

     “Shut up.”

     I wasn’t entirely sure when my heart started racing -it hadn’t happened for so long that I had forgotten it could- but there was no way for me to stop it. This man, this Idiot, nearly revealed me for what I truly was, and such a thing needed not to happen. Not then, and definitely not here. But how could he have known my true self? This was something I immediately made a priority to find out. And that being so, I decided to play his little game.

     “Don’t you dare even think to mention such a thing again,” I whispered to him and him alone. “Do so, and you will regret the existence of a Hell.”

     After I made myself clear to him, we made our way back to the Dispatcher’s table. The Dispatcher took one look at my sullied cloak and hardened glare and looked no more beyond handing us our release certificates. Once we had our certificates, Liam signed the Dispatcher’s Official Dispatch Record, and when it was made apparent that expected I do the same, I etched an ‘R’ on the designated line. I felt no need to disclose my name to just any unworthy soul, and luckily for him, the Dispatcher made nothing of the matter.

     Soon thereafter, we left the dispatch house, and though Liam tried his hardest to start a light conversation over a meager supper of bread and dried fish at the local tavern, I silently refused. Remember, I’ve a well seated dislike for his type, and even though his knowing of my nature intrigues me, nothing to little had changed between the two of us. From there, we rented a room for the night. It was decided by Liam after we ate our meal that since we’ve little to prepare and the ruins are a decent distance from here, we might as well leave in the morning.

     I agreed and turned in for the night, or I would have. It would seem that Liam had one last question for me, and despite my earlier callousness, I permitted it.

     “So, Mr. Blue-Hair, at least tell me your name. I can’t keep calling you by your physical features for long.”

     Lying prone in my cot, I averted my eyes from the ceiling to Liam, who sat attentively at the edge of his cot. “As soon as you’re worthy of it, you’ll hear it.”

     For the rest of the night, Liam was silent, much to my pleasure. And that was that.

     Little happened that next morning; I woke along with the sun but did little more than open my eyes, for my newly acquired and ever so unwelcome partner was still fast asleep. That being so, I let myself drift deep into thought. This man, coming from who knew where, claiming who knew what, knew about me. Knew about me. Only few remained that could identify my type, and they required some sort of arcane magic. This man did not need magic to identify me –he did so with sight alone- so what could he possibly be? He’s obviously not one of us; I would have known that at first contact. Could he possibly… no, he couldn’t be. They died out long ago. But their teachings, and their place of worship…

     “Oi, Amber Eyes, you plan on sleeping all day or what? We’ve a mission to complete if you don’t remember.”

     I did little more than roll my eyes in acknowledgement of Liam’s words before rigidly righting out of bed. I was nice enough to let him sleep after I woke, so I couldn’t see where he got off saying such things. It wasn’t as if it was already midday or anywhere close to it for that matter. But as we left the tavern for the waking streets, I let my annoyance subside and we began our day perusing the markets for the light provisions necessary for our trip. Once prepared, we left town bearing northwest on a direct route to the Maenrith Range, as our destination was nestled in the foothills of those mountains.

     As we traveled over the sparsely forested land, I noticed a slight change in Liam. He had become quieter, more serious than I had seen him before once we had left the town border, and needless to say, I found that to be a welcome change. At least, at first I did. Quiet I may be, but prolonged silence can become a bit unnerving. Especially when not even nature itself makes a sound.

     … when not even nature itself makes a sound.

     The sun was smiling overhead. The natural orchestra that usually accompanied the land should have been playing unbridled at this time of day. With a single glance, Liam and I wordlessly confirmed that something was amiss. The best case was that something unholy in nature was present, not too far away. The worst: that unholiness was tailing us.

     Damn these trees. If they weren’t so sparse, I would have been able to use my assassin skills to their fullest with the aid of more cover.

     Then suddenly, it was upon us. Or should I say me; Liam was nowhere to be found. I had never seen the likes of such a beast before in this land. It had an imposingly hulking black form hunched somewhere between being bi- and quadripedal, a knotted and untamed vermilion mane cascading down its bullish neck, and two overly-muscled arms nearly the size of its midsection ending in wicked claws hanging just above the ground. But what surprised me most were its amber eyes. They were akin to mine, save for the cat-like pupils.

     A thunderous roar brought me back to my senses just in time for me to bolt up the tree directly behind me to avoid being crushed to oblivion by a clawed fist, but the beast’s monstrous strength shattered the trunk of my tree with little effort. The force of the blow flung me from my perch, and there was nothing I could do but writhe through the air as the beast aimed another clawed fist in my direction.

     This time, however, the beast was the one surprised.

     A shout, a human shout, came from the far side of the monstrosity, and the beast rocked with what must have been a physical blow. It turned its attention to the new annoyance, which could only be Liam, and batted him into a not-so-nearby tree with a heavy backhand. That gave me the time a needed to land slightly off-balance on all fours and charge the beast full-on with both daggers drawn.

     Again it turned its focus upon me, but this time I was prepared. Soon another clawed fist rocketed towards me, but I gingerly flipped out of its path and, once it had slammed into the ground, I bolted up the beast’s arm. Now perched atop the monster’s neck, I had but one choice.

     I reared back, and shortly thereafter, my daggers found a new home in the beast’s amber eyes.

     The beast shrieked in pain and bucked madly, tossing me once more into the air. This time, however, upon landing, there was not much for me to do, as my only weapons were still wedged in the beast’s eye sockets. Quickly, I turned to check on Liam, but he was no longer lying where the beast left him, and just as quickly I learned not to take my eyes off of a thrashing monster, for no sooner than I had turned back around, I caught a flailing arm to the chest and was sent flying yet again. But this time, I did not immediately spring back up. Something felt wrong, and I couldn’t stand just yet. And the sightless beast noticed… sensed this.

     Oh, how I longed for my shadows…

     Now before me, the beast reared a heavy hand back in preparation to crush the existence out of me. But then something –a voice- behind the monster caught both my and the beast’s attention. It was chanting words, a phrase in a long forgotten tongue. Deciding I was to be exterminated later, the beast turned to face where the chanting was coming from.

     And there was Liam. His left hand was engulfed in radiating, electric blue energy. With both hands at his sides, Liam walked –nearly swaggered- up to the beast. It punched into the ground, attempting to crush Liam, but missed. Because Liam was no longer there.

     Liam was no longer a handful of paces away from the beast. He was directly under its hunched chest. And just before he struck, I saw it. A grin, a smirk that I couldn’t very well describe. It was… almost as if he enjoyed wielding such an enormous power. The average person might have called it sadistic.

     Liam’s energy-charged fist impacted the beast’s chest, and the resulting release of concentrated power tore a ragged hole through its body. With little more than a shudder, it crumpled to the ground as Liam strode around it and stood before me. And then he offered me his hand.

     Even though enough time had passed for me to be able to stand on my own, I couldn’t refuse him. This man barely knew me beyond what he had perceived himself, but in the space of only a few moments, he had saved my life twice. Despite having no reason to.

     “I am Ryoji,” I said as I took his hand and stood before him. “Ryoji, the Seraph.”

     He could have –no, should have- ended me then and there, but instead, we trekked for a couple more miles and set up camp. To this day I still have no idea why he chose not to, and that very thought puzzles me to no end. I am a Seraph, and he obviously knew that. But by freely admitting it to him, I was, in a small way, placing myself in his hands. And he did nothing.

     So naturally I had to question him as to why.

     “Liam, you know what I am. And it bothers me that you’ve… ignored it ever since I cut you off in the dispatch house. You’ve ignored it despite the King’s official decree. Why is that? And once you’re done answering that, there’s more I want to ask you.”

     He took a bite of his travel ration and chewed thoughtfully before even glancing in my direction. Then, in between mouthfuls, he said to me, “It’s a game.”

     At first, confusion set in. A game? What was a game? Was saving my life a game? Was half-attempting to reveal me in front of a roomful of Ryoshi a game? Was toying with the very idea of life and death a game? I became mildly irritated at the very prospect of those thoughts.

     “What could possibly be a game, Liam?” I nearly growled at him. I tried my best to hide my irritation, but despite my efforts, some of it must have come though. Not that it fazed him in the least.

     His response came just as causally as before. “It’s all a game, Amber Eyes. Or should I call you Ryoji now.” It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer. “But like I was saying. Everything’s a game. Everything’s a game, because life itself is a game. And with that said, I can now say this: It isn’t your turn.”

     I couldn’t tell if he was being facetious or just beating around the bush. So I punched him. Hard. Hard enough to knock the food right out of his hands.
 
     He looked at me, then at his spilled ration, then back to me. The look in his eyes could only mean one thing.

     I was going to eat that…

     I’d had enough of his attitude. It shifted too much for my liking. First it was the boisterous Liam, claiming to be able to take on a dispatch house full of Ryoji, and now it’s the whimsical, you-spilled-my-dinner-but-that’s-cool Liam, and not too long ago it was…

     Which brought me to my second question. “Where the hell did you learn such a technique? Such an art, not to mention the language that accompanies it, was supposed to be lost long ago. Lost along with… along with them. What connection do you have with the Monks of Harahen?”

     As soon as I mentioned that lost monk tribe, that grin, that smirk he had just before annihilating the beast that assaulted us earlier that day reappeared, gracing his visage once more. Once again he had changed personalities on me. Changed to Liam the Destroyer.

     “I suppose now would be the time to go into my personal history and recount my many journeys, blah, blah, blah,” he said with almost a hint of a sneer, “but there really isn’t much of a point in that, is there.” Again with the question that was a statement. He was rather fond of such rhetoric. “Just know, Amber Eyes, that to some, I might be called a monk. But at the end of the day, I just like punching things.”

     I shook my head. I wasn’t going to let him off so easily, not given the history between the Seraphs and the Monks of Harahen. And that just added to my frustration, because he must also know the history between our respective peoples. “Now that you’ve indirectly affirmed my assumptions, I can’t just let this go. This is yet another reason for you to kill me, and yet you saved me twice today. Why do you do what you do? What… what determines your actions!?”

     And with that same grin, he too shook his head. “And now you’re asking me what makes me me? But like I told you, this is all a game, and it’s not yet your turn. No matter what happened between the people we represent in the past, you have to play in the now. The past is the past, and is best left to the past.” And then he added one last thing, one last query, almost as if it were an afterthought. “Why are you so occupied with dying anyway?”

     I… couldn’t answer that immediately. Being what I was, death could come at any moment ever since the king’s decree. But back when both Seraphs and the Monks of Harahen were prominent, they acted as the balances of power, often waging long, fruitless wars upon one another as the lesser peoples watched and lived their lives. Then, some unknown catastrophe all but wiped out the Monks of Harahen, leaving the Seraphs unchallenged. Unchallenged, that is, until the current king developed a healthy fear of Seraphs and their unchecked powers and ordered for their mass execution.

     “Death…” I started slowly, testing out the word I was all too familiar with, “is something inescapable for me. I am a Seraph, so by my very nature death follows me. And my profession also deals in the bringing of death. So is the life of an assassin. I could be a veritable Angel of Death, considering the vast amounts of time I spend skirting it, furnishing it, enveloped by it.” I smiled weakly with that last realization.

     “Death,” I repeated myself, “is something inescapable for me.”

     “That doesn’t exactly answer my question, Amber Eyes.”

     Infuriating, nauseating, tactless, annoying, irritating, vexatious, distressing, and so, ever so confusing. That’s what Liam was, and yet those words were not enough. Why couldn’t I figure him out? Why was he so different from everyone else? What made him so… interesting? Why couldn’t I understand? Why couldn’t I understand…

     I studied him one last time that night with what I hoped was a piercing glare. “You test me, Liam. That is no small feat as no one besides yourself has yet to accomplish it. Now get some rest, because if that beast is a testament to what we shall face tomorrow in the ruins, we’ll need as much energy and strength as we can muster. Hmph, one man mission indeed.”

     And with that said, I laid to rest, but tumultuous thoughts kept me conscious. Through some means yet undetermined, I swore I would figure Liam out before we returned to the dispatch house. If we ever returned. I would figure out him, what makes him ‘him’… and this ‘game’ philosophy of his. I’d come to understand all, no matter what the cost.

     Just when would it be my turn anyway…

     The next morning, we crested the final hill in our path, and before us sprawled the Ruins of Elleth-G’aeal, nestled neatly between green folds of earth. The typical adventurer might have been inspired by the towering, if not aged, spires and battlements that comprised the ruins before us, but the purpose of our visitation didn’t allow much room for such emotions.

     In little time, our unamazed paces carried us to the crested arch that served as the entrance to the ruins. As we stepped across the threshold, I felt something… strange. And strange was the best I could manage to describe it as. It was a foreboding yet yearning feeling, an invitation hidden within a warning. There was no other way for me to describe something so contradictory aside from being strange. And against my better judgment, I withheld this piece of information from Liam. It’s not like my griping to him would help the situation any… and besides. He is more than he lets on to.

     Much more than he lets on to, because it wasn’t long before we arrived at the base of the largest spire in the ruins. He led us through the maze that is the grounds of Elleth-G’aeal to its heart, where the largest spire stands, with the least bit of effort. How he led us here so quickly without encountering a single trap that I knew existed on these grounds is beyond me, but it didn’t bother me long, for he soon gave me something more pressing to fret about.

     “It’s your turn now.”

     At first, I thought he had lost it. But then I remembered. It wasn’t my turn, but now… suddenly it’s become my turn? “Liam, you say that as if in my very hands I have a die to cast.”

     He grinned his grin, fiery as ever, but somewhere within it, there was a level of solemnity I could barely detect. “It’s your turn now, Amber Eyes. What you decide now has the potential to change everything. Or possibly nothing will change at all. It’s your turn now,” Liam stated one last time, “but will you proceed?”

     I looked to the intricately wrought iron door before us; it had lost little beauty through the ages. Is this what he meant by proceed? If I continue through this door, what will change? What awaits me beyond this symbol of procession? Is there something of my past awaiting my return? Someone once forgotten to me? What did Liam know in this instance that was hidden from me? Why was he continuing to torment my mind in such a manner!?

     Liam should know better than to irritate a Seraph.

     In the next instant, the iron work of art before us ceased to exist. I disappeared up the now visible stairwell, and as best as I cared to tell, Liam followed closely behind. Had I not been so blind in my pursuit of the unknown ahead, I might have noticed that the spiral staircase we now ascended was lit, but there were no candles in the candle stands. In fact, there was not a single source of light present in that stairwell. The light simply existed.

     I reached the apex of the tower only slightly out of breath, and a warm, lavender ambience commonly associated with magical apparatuses greeted me. The entranceway I had appeared in was empty, but the source of the ambience spilled from an ajar wooden door.

     I hesitated. What could possibly be waiting for me beyond that flimsy, rotted, oaken barrier? Momentarily, I did not want to find out. I didn’t, I wouldn’t, I couldn’t, I… what was there to fear? Why was I frozen to the spot? Was it the unknown? Did I fear the unknown?

     This… this wasn’t me. This was not Ryoji, the Assassin. Ryoji, the Seraph.

     And then his words came back to me.

     It’s your turn now… but will you proceed?

     I threw open the door. I rushed into the room. But this time I froze for an entirely different reason.

     There, at the far end of the room, amidst a myriad of glasses and tubes and florescent liquids, sat an amber eyed Seraph. No. A Seraphic Alchemist.

     It all fell together. The mission. The beast. Everything. Someone much higher than the Dispatcher knew of the existence of this Seraph. They handed down the rank seven in hopes of eradicating this hidden threat as simply and as quietly as possible. But she, this Seraphic Alchemist, would not fade away silently. She, like myself, knew that death could come for her at any moment, so she prepared. That unholy beast in the fields… that was her homunculus.

     I had begun to lose hope, hope that there were possibly more of my kind in this world. It had been too long since I had seen another. But there she was, rising before me, her archaically tattooed skin radiating dimly at first, but growing more intense as she looked on to me. I was enthralled, hopelessly entranced, a prisoner in this Seraphic maiden’s spell. The voice calling out behind me and the black liquid bursting forth from a large beaker beside me were little more than figments of my imagination in comparison to her.

     And then I fell.

     Tumbling through the air with a viscous blob that was quickly beginning to take shape, I soon realized my folly. The newly formed homunculus snatched me out of the sky and together we crashed through the roof of the nearest spire. As the beast impacted the floor of this new room, it released its hold on me, tossing me with the force of the impact into the far wall. I immediately rose, and just as quickly dropped to my knees in pain as I realized my left shoulder was broken.

     But there was no time to worry about such trivial matter. I could mend the bone back to its previous health, given time. Time which I didn’t have at the moment.

     The beast, completely identical to the one we fought earlier, rose, roared, and shook off the debris that had settled on it. I did the same –save for the roar- and drew a single dagger with my right hand. It came at me without further hesitation, leaving me no time to even consider planning a course of action. So I did the only thing I could do.

     I shoved the dagger into the right side of my stomach. The side where I keep my vials of poison.

     Shuddering with the new pain, I removed the blood and poison coated blade with as much haste I could possibly manage. Now upon me, the beast punched down from overhead, but I narrowly spun out of the way down the beast’s arm. In this new location and in my condition, I had but one chance. One chance to either win or lose this battle.

     I thrust the blade deep into the beast’s throat before backing against the nearest wall. The beast howled, clutched madly at its throat with those massive fists, and soon collapsed, silent. After all, one might find it hard to live when one’s entire circulatory system has turned to dust.

     But it was too soon to relax. Back in the spire I was flung from, there was a shout and a flash. I could only assume Liam was having his own problems… but how to get back to him? I despaired for only a short moment before remembering that. I much too young, much too inexperienced to even contemplate attempting that… but it was my last option. I couldn’t allow Liam to die just yet. He had saved my life twice. That, and there was no way I could possibly permit his death before I figured him out.

     Ignoring my injuries as best I could, I stood under the entrance made by myself and the homunculus. I looked at my feet. I looked to the spire where Liam and his opponent were fighting. And then, I willed for my presence to be elsewhere.

     It might have been considered a successful attempt at shifting had I not ended up two feet off the ground with the tail of my cloak assimilated into the stone wall of the spire.

     I hastily threw off the now useless rag and glanced in both the direction of Liam and the Alchemist. Liam was holding out fairly well; he had minimal wounds and, as before, his fist was engulfed by that same, lightning blue energy. His only real wound, if it could be called such, was his waning endurance. Those fists of his must have quite the upkeep to have him panting as he was.

     The Alchemist however, was still standing where I had left her, as of yet unscathed. The main problem was with the three miniature homunculi she had summoned in the short time I was absent.

     Liam and I both nodded to one another. As things were, with his exhaustion and my wounds, we couldn’t prolong this any more than absolutely necessary. Which meant this: We’ve each one last strike. Better make it count.

     With little warning, the mini-beasts charged, one after Liam, one after myself, and one remained to guard the Alchemist. I drew my remaining dagger, parried mine, and used the resulting opening to make for the Seraph. Liam knocked his away with his normal fist and bounded straight for the Alchemist. Putting everything within me forward, I shifted behind the final homunculus, and upon reappearing, shoved my dagger into the gut of this siren Seraph.

     With a roar of power, Liam hurled himself over my crouched figure, and soon thereafter, the Seraphic Alchemist, as well as the instruments and most of the wall behind her, disintegrated into nothing.

     Little was said as we returned to the dispatch house and, despite my hurried efforts to reset my shoulder and close up our wounds, we still received many an awestruck stare when we arrived that night. Judging by the look on his face, the Dispatcher was none to happy see us again, but he handed us our payment for the task with little fuss. After receiving our payment, Liam and I stepped just outside the dispatch house and stood there, staring at one another. Apparently, both had something to say. Neither was going to say it. Then night drawled on.

     Then, “Satisfied, Amber Eyes?” Liam asked from out of nowhere.

     What was I supposed to be satisfied with? The fact that I found one of my own? The fact that I killed one of my own? Or maybe the fact that it was finally my turn?

     “You wanted to know what makes me me. Are you satisfied with my answer?”

     I smiled. Something I hadn’t done in too long a time. “You must be kidding. You gave no such thing as a response. At least not a verbal one. But… I think I’ll be satisfied for now, Liam.”

     I couldn’t tell if he was smiling or grinning now. Maybe it was a mixture of both. “Good. Then I’ll be on my way.”

     “Wait, Liam.” I said. He turned back to face me with that same smile. “Where are you going? It’s late you know. You shouldn’t travel at night.”

     And then it became his grin. The grin. “Coming from you, an assassin, I’m not sure whether to take that as a joke or not. As for where I’m headed… I’ll find out when I get there. After all, life’s a game. Just keep moving forward, and I’m sure we’ll meet again, Ryoji the Seraph.”

     And then he left.

     The circumstances that bring people, places, events together… I’ll never claim to understand them. Some call it destiny, others call it fate. There are those who believe it to be a manifestation of the will, and there are others who see it all as a game to be played.

     As for what I believe… I’ll find out someday.

     I’ll find out. And then I’ll find him.