To See Beyond Sight
Arminius Corelsti
Prologue: The Birth of a Visionary

The baby was crying again.

Adriauna Corelsti heaved an almost hysterical sigh herself, as she rose out of bed tiredly for what seemed like the ninth time that night. Slipping her robe over her modest white nightgown, Adriauna made her way down the hall of her small home, towards the room of her two-week old son, Arminius. She sighed as she opened the door, in what had already become a nightly ritual, and gazed in wearily at the cradle where her infant son lay kicking and wailing.

 "I'm right here, Armi honey!" she called out soothingly; hurrying over and lifting her baby into her arms... without looking directly at his face, just in case his eyes were open.

You're so little, and you've already got it so bad... Adriauna sighed wearily, as she moved over to the rocking chair stationed in the corner of the room. Life SHOULD be beautiful right now, SHOULD be perfect for you... but it never will be.

She and Lucian had been so very happy when she became pregnant; his wife of only a few months would give him the child they'd both wanted so badly. And he was a good man; never unfaithful to her, never cross with her even during the worst of her mood swings, and always willing to do what was needed to please her... which wasn't much. He was perfect, and she was proud to be carrying his baby.

They'd spent months pouring over the books of baby names, until at last, he'd sat back and ran a hand through his shoulder-length white hair. Lucian was an albino, as most of his family was, and in her eyes the most beautiful man in the world... It was somewhat sad that they knew her genes for black hair and brown eyes would overpower his for another pure white being as he.

 "Arminius," he'd whispered, pointing at the name in the Ferian language, the regional dialect from the area of his birth, the neighboring fiefdom. "Arminius, it means The Visionary."

"And if it's a girl?"

"Arminia." He smiled and shook his head. "But I know it will be a boy."

And she'd agreed, both because of the beauty of the name, and by the look in his eyes whenever he said it. Arminius, the Visionary, would be a name to lead their child to greatness!

If we'd only known...

But then life had taken a downward spiral into despair.

Three days before Arminius' birth, when her pains had been especially severe, Lucian had ridden into town to fetch Jan, the local physician, for her one dark, rainy night... And had met his death on the pointy reckoning of a murderer's blade. They'd found him the next morning, slit from throat to groin, lying on his back and gazing up toward the skies. His eyes were filled with rainwater, as though the dead man were about to weep...

And then you were born...

She'd hardly had a chance to recover from the initial shock, and that's what the town physician said had driven her into labor a day or so before the baby was due. The delivery had gone on with only mild trouble, and after a few hours of struggling and pushing, she'd delivered a baby boy into the world.

 "His n-name is A-Arminius!" she announced breathlessly, smiling eagerly as the midwife, her sister, turned and wrote it out on the birth certificate. "V-visionary!"

But nothing had prepared her, as the doctor examined the baby while she lay exhausted, for what Jan announced sadly.

Blind... She gazed down at the baby in her arms, who was now uttering only faint sobs every so often, cuddled up against her breast for protection. My baby... Our little visionary was born blind...

She sighed as she rose slowly, as not to disturb him, and made her way back to her bedroom, carrying him all the while. It seemed to comfort him whenever he lay with her, atop her chest, where he could listen to her heartbeat. He was a beautiful little child, but those eyes never ceased to frighten her...

...Those white, pupil-less eyes...


Part One: Night Terrors

Adriauna sighed heavily as she leaned over her sewing; work that earned the meager living that she and Arminius subsided on, and drew the candle a bit closer to her on the table. She was working on the hem of a dressing gown for that insufferable witch of a woman, Madam Gutien, one of the town's few affluent persons, and one of the gossips that Adriauna despised the most.

Her son, Arminius, a beautiful little boy of two years, lay in bed just down the hall, and as she heard the sound of him shifting position, she stopped for a moment, halfway between lying aside the needle and maintaining her current position.

Please, sleep well tonight! She thought with near-desperation. I can't be this patient tonight! I have to finish this day after tomorrow, and I need to work!

It wasn't as though she was a bad mother, she reasoned, for wishing her child would stay in bed. Rather, she was good for wishing him to sleep through the whole night! Since his birth, Arminius had never slept the whole night through; something she attributed to the unconscious realization of the absence of his father (so what if they said children didn't think like that! They'd never met her baby!). He would awaken, nightly, crying, but the recent times had become worse and worse.

At least there's a reason for it now, she thought, as she took up another handful of beads and small pearls. He's about at the age to have night terrors; that's what he's been having these past weeks I think, because he's still frightened after he awakens. That's the only logical explanation -

"Mommy?"

"OH!"

Adriauna jumped slightly as the sound of her child's voice called to her from the doorway behind her. She turned; expression startled, and set her eyes upon her child... her little darling Arminius.

Arminius was a small, delicate child, with soft white-blonde hair and pale, white flesh. He looked almost girlish in his delicacy, his facial features were soft and rounded, and his heavily lashed eyes were always closed as though in quiet contemplation, though in truth it was because he was blind, and had been born without iris or pupil.

"Oh, sweetie! Don't sneak up on Mommy like that!" she admonished ever so warmly, and at the sound of her voice, he began slowly walking towards her, little hands stretched out before him, head tilted back slightly as he strained to both listen for her and make certain he didn't collide with anything. "That's it, I'm right here sweetie."

"Mommy." As his hands found the fabric of her dress Arminius gave a pleased, decisive smile, and she set aside her needlework to lift him into her lap.

"You should be in bed, Armi," she chided gently, and that smile vanished from his features like a light being turned out. "You know you need sleep."

"But Mommy..." Arminius squirmed uncomfortably. "Nooo...."

"Yes, sweetie, you have to sleep sometimes." She sighed. Here we go again.

"No, Mommy, no!" He clung to her tightly, shaking his head. "Not back there! Not back there! She's still there!"

"She?" Adriauna gazed quizzically at her son. "Armi, what do you mean?"

"The bad lady!" he whimpered, clinging to her tightly. "The bad, torn lady!"

"Torn lady?" Adriauna's eyes widened at his words. "What are you talking about!"

Lady! She thought fearfully. Arminius can't even see! How does he know what he's talking about!

"She's tore up!" Arminius whimpered softly. "She's all tore up! He did it to her, and she wants him torn up too!"

"Arminius, now stop this nonsense!" She took his hands firmly, and he opened his eyes; she couldn't help but feel as if those sightless white orbs were trying to convey a message she'd never understand. "You stop this at once! There's nothing in that bedroom! There's no torn lady! And I don't want to hear you talking about such horrible things ever - "

 "Mommy! She's here!" Arminius screeched, pointing over her shoulder hysterically. "She's here! Make her go away!"

"Arminius!" She turned and followed his pointing finger with her eyes, but saw nothing. However, what her son perceived must have been horrid, for he began to scream hysterically, clawing at her in an attempt to escape her embrace.

 "NONONONONO!" he screamed, his eyes wide in fear as the torn lady walked towards him, her dress torn open, her flesh rent asunder, her bones exposed through that terrible gap. "GO AWAY!"

I want him torn apart.

You can see me. You can help me.

I want him torn apart.

"I DON'T WANNA HELP YOU!" Arminius wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I DON'T WANNA HELP YOU! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!"

 "Arminius!" his mother gasped, clinging to him frantically.

The torn woman came closer, closer, and reached out a spectral hand towards the childŠ

 "DON'T TOUCH MEEEEE!" Arminius screamed, then howled as the lady's hand touched his arm...

 "ARMINIUS!" Adriauna screamed as her little boy went limp in her arms, head lolling back, arms and legs limp and lifeless, his expression of utter terror frozen upon his face. And he was so... so cold!

"ARMINIUS!"

"A strange case."

Adriauna glanced up nervously as Jan Korsenth, the doctor of their town of Ipira, at last straightened from his examination of Arminius.

 "His pulse rate is slow and his breathing is shallow," Jan narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. "But his bodily functions are fine otherwise. He's in no respiratory or circulatory distress, cardiac function isn't impaired, just slow."

"He's so cold!" she exclaimed. "What about that!"

"...Honestly, I couldn't tell you." Jan shook his head. "I've never seen, nor heard of this before."

 "He's been having night terrors..." she murmured softly, and Jan gazed at her curiously. "But they started a few months ago."

 "Hmm... and he's been waking in terror every night since his birth?" Jan narrowed his eyes in thought as she nodded. "How very curious..."

 "Doctor!" She drew in a fearful gasp, pointing to her son.

Arminius had sat bolt upright suddenly, white eyes opened wide. His face bore little animation, as though he were a waxen figure.

 "Samuel Arron killed me, tore me apart." Her child's lips moved, but it wasn't his voice that issued forth. Rather, it was a woman's cold and dark voice. "He buried me in the woods, near the river, under two rock slabs, because I was carrying his baby. Find me, and punish him."

"W-what the devil - " Jan began to stammer.

"You have to make him pay, for ripping me open, for ripping my heart open." The woman's voice fell silent at last, and then life seemed to seep back into Arminius' features. "M-Mommy!"

 "What in the name of God..." Jan whispered as Adriauna swept her child into her arms.

"Arminius, I want to know what it is that you see."

It was after the doctor had gone, and the sun was steadily creeping over the horizon.

Adriauna stood by the window, gazing out at the quiet town. Her son sat in bed, gazing blankly at the wall, his white eyes puffy from all the crying he'd done throughout the night and early morning.

 "... People." Arminius said softly. "I see people. Bad people. Good people. And in betweens. They scare me."

 "There are no people here, Arminius!" Adriauna snapped.

 "They're not people anymore, Mommy. They're not like you. But they used to be," Arminius whispered, and Adriauna felt as though her blood had chilled.

 "... Are you saying these people are dead, Arminius?" She turned to gaze at her child, who remained silent for a moment. "Are they dead?"

 "Yes, Mommy," he said matter of factly. "That's what they told me... what's dead?"

 "Arminius, you listen close," She hurried over and took him by the shoulders. "I never, ever, ever want to hear you talk about this again."

"But Mommy - "

"Listen!" She shook him slightly, her mind awhirl with a thousand fears. "To see these things is a bad thing! You don't want to see them! If you never talk about them, they'll go away! They'll have to! They're bad and you should never even think about them! Ever!"

"But - "

"No buts!"

"... Yes, Mommy..."


Part Two: A Touch of Madness?

"I'm gonna get you!"

"Run! Run Sara!"

"Tag, you're it!"

"Ah, run from Sara!"

Arminius listened quietly from his vantage point, sitting on the ground, idly playing with a handful of sand every so often, as the other children ran along and played in the yard. He was seven years old, and had never played with another child in his entire life... because he couldn't see.

You look lonely.

"Hmm?" Arminius snapped his head up, the sounds of the real world seeming to bleed away, to go far from him. "Who's there?"

His blind eyes opened, and Arminius gazed to his left, where a little boy sat next to him, smiling brightly. He was dressed in clothes that reminded Arminius of what it felt like his mother dressed him in. Knee-length shorts, a white shirt, and a small blazer. The boy had dark hair that fell about his shoulders, and his eyes sparkled brightly with mirth. But he was pale and off-color; white seemed to settle about him like powder.

Why doesn't anyone play with you?

"... Because I can't see to play." Arminius whispered, lowering his head. "... I'm not s'posed to talk to you..."

Oh, right. Your mommy said not to, huh?

He nodded sadly.

She doesn't have to know. The little boy smiled and held out a hand to Arminius. My name's Josh. My mom called me Joshua.

 "I'm Arminius." He smiled and shook the spirit boy's hand; trying not to shiver at the cold.

So, you can see me, eh? Josh giggled. How odd. I didn't think anyone would have been able to see me.

"I see lots of weird things."

Yes you do. But I like that, because now I have someone to talk to. Josh smiled brightly, leaning back. So, why don't they come and talk to you?

 "Because Sara and Jason think I'm weird, and everyone likes them." Arminius sighed. "It's not fair."

Why do they think you're weird? They're stupid.

"I don't know. Because I can't see, I think." Arminius sighed sadly. "A lot of kids are mean to me because of that."

I don't like it when people are mean to my friends, Josh announced calmly. They won't be mean to you anymore.

 "What do you mean?" Arminius gaped at him, but Josh was already up and flitting along through the play yard. "Josh, what are you doing!"

Fixing them for being mean!

"Uh-oh!" Arminius called out, rising and beginning to stumble after the spirit boy. "Josh, stop it! Don't be bad!"

 "Oof!" Arminius yelped as someone's feet hit his shoulder, and sent him tumbling to the ground.

 "Watch out, stupid!" Jason's voice laughed. "Oh, yeah, you can't!"

 "Meanie." Arminius got up, rubbing his shoulder, and gazed around for Josh quickly.

 "Move, stupid! What are you lookin' at!" Jason's hands connected this time, pushing Arminius away from whatever the boy had been standing near. "Idiot!"

 "Josh, where are you!" Arminius called worriedly, and Jason's footsteps receded and disappeared as he climbed back up on something, then pointed at him.

"Arminius is being weird again, guys!"

I hate kids like him, don't you? Arminius turned to see Josh several feet in the air, hands ready to push something...

 "Jason, look out!" Arminius shouted, but it was too late.

Jason let out a cry as he toppled from atop the monkey bars, and Arminius screamed at the sound of something cracking; his sensitive hearing picked it out easily. Then Jason started screaming and wailing, and the other children ran over.

Darn. He didn't land on his head like he was supposed to.

 "Josh, why'd you do that!" Arminius snapped, unaware that the other kids were staring both at Jason and at him. "That was wrong! You could have hurt him badly!"

I didn't though. His arm is just broken in two places. He was supposed to fall on his head, and break his neck.

 "You can't hurt people like that! Because of me! It's not right!"

 "You pushed me!" Jason howled, as two of the teachers came running over to him. "Arminius pushed me!"

 "I did not!" The little boy protested. "You were up high! I can't get up high! Josh did it, because you're mean to me, but I told him not to!"

 "Arminius, come with me." One of the teachers took hold of the little boy's shoulder, just as the nurse came running out to tend Jason. "We need to have a talk."

 "It was Josh!" Arminius insisted, but the teacher sighed heavily. Looking to his right, Arminius glared at the little spirit boy, who walked beside him. "You're bad!"

Nope, not me. You were, they think you did something. Josh giggled, throwing his head back, and Arminius gasped aloud as he saw something chilling. Josh's neck twisted back at an unnatural angle. I'll fix the girl later; mean people deserve to have their necks break!

A bit overwhelmed as Josh started laughing, and that terrible neck of his made eerie grinding noises, Arminius fainted.

 "Ms. Mackie says Arminius is strange, my mom told me so."

"Did he really push Jason?"

"He wasn't up there."

"But Jason says he did it."

"Arminius says Josh did it."

"Who's Josh?"

"Dunno."

Arminius squeezed his eyes shut tightly as helistened to the conversations of the other children at lunch time, trying not to cry.

Ever since the day that Josh had pushed Jason, everyone had treated Arminius like he was evil. No one sat at the table even near to him, and everyone talked about him behind his back... even the older kids.

 "My mom said that his mom said a long time ago that he wakes up screaming all the time."

 "He says he saw a boy named Josh push that other kid, but no one was there."

"He's weird."

Arminius heaved a sigh and laid his head down against the table, pushing his lunch away uneaten.

What's wrong?

He didn't even have to look up to know that Josh was sitting right across from him.

"..."

Tell me, we're friends and all.

"..." Arminius remained silent.

Arminius, talk to me.

He straightened and took a bite of his sandwich, before he pulled over a small chart of the dot-language that made up what he was learning to read. A, B, C, D...

I said, talk to me! Josh was beginning to sound angry.

That means cat, that means ball, that means apple... Arminius thought to himself calmly.

I SAID TALK TO ME!

 "This is easy..." Arminius smiled, feeling over the dots quicker now. "Mommy's going to be so happy!"

You better not make me MAD!

"Mmm." Arminius took another bite of his sandwich, and a sip of his apple juice.

YOU ASKED FOR IT!

Arminius screamed as the table he was sitting at flipped over onto its side, then flew against the wall. He covered his ears as it struck and shattered into a pile of useless wood.

 "JOSH STOP IT!" Arminius wailed, drawing his knees up to his chest. "STOP IT!"

YOU ASKED FOR IT!

I'm gonna make your life miserable!

Arminius screamed as his chair was kicked out from under him, but he didn't know by who. He hit the ground with a sharp cry, and opened his eyes to see Josh running towards another table.

 "STOP IT!" Arminius screamed, just as the table flipped over. Screams erupted from the children sitting there, who'd been peacefully eating moments before, and Arminius screamed at the sound of another sickening crack, faint but audible to his ears... Before he saw a white-dusted outline rise from under the table, and started screaming.

 "SARA! SOMEONE HELP HER!" A few children started screaming, but Arminius just stayed where he was, watching blankly.

 "... She's already dead..." He whispered. "Josh... you're a bad boy..."

Thank you.

"Josh did it..." Arminius whispered, closing his eyes, and watched as the girl, whom he knew had to be Sara, screamed, and only he could hear it. "Sorry Sara, but he wanted to protect me... and you were bad, so he made you pay... but it was wrong."

With that, he slowly got up, and began feeling his way toward the door to go outside. The air was cool out there, and the sunlight was warm... and he just wanted to get out of there.

He sat there for several hours, on the steps of the school, just staring out blankly over the street... and wondering why Josh had done that.

 "Arminius... there you are..." One of his teachers, Ms. Mackie, gasped as she came walking out. He could hear her walking strangely, as if she were shaking. "You shouldn't have come out here without telling someone!"

 "... Don't lecture me because you're nervous, it's not nice." Arminius lowered his head; he'd always been an intelligent child. "Sara is dead."

"!" 

"She's dead because Josh killed her. He made the table I was eating at break, and then made hers fall and hit her. He broke her neck, didn't he." Arminius' rueful words were eerily calm, and more statements than questions. "He did it because she was mean to me."

"He's crazy!"

"There's definitely something wrong with that boy mentally!"

"Someone should send him to an institution!"

"I'll talk to his mother when she comes, word's been sent for her to pick him up."

"He's frightening!"

"Unnatural!"

"How did he know!"


Part Three: Daddy...

"Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night."

"No school tomorrow, it's the weekend."

"I know."

"Sleep well."

"I'll try."

He sighed as his mother closed the door to his room, and snuggled down under the covers wearily. Another bad day at school, but at least it made weekends seem nicer. Maybe tomorrow he could sit and listen to his mother sing while she worked?

You've grown so much...

"?"

Arminius sat up slowly, his white eyes opening and gazing at the foot of his bed.

A man sat there, whiter than any he'd ever seen before, whiter than the other visions. His hair was white, his skin was as well, but his eyes were a warm, almost glistening pale pink. He smiled at Arminius kindly, gazing at him over his shoulder.

 "Who are you?" Arminius whispered, for he wasn't afraid of this man... no, not at all.

My name is Lucian, Arminius. Or rather, it was. Lucian Corelsti.

 "D...Daddy?" Arminius posed the word almost hopefully, almost fearfully, and the vision nodded and smiled. "Daddy!"

Shhh, shhh, no need to wake your mother, or worry her. Lucian shook his head and continued to smile. I've been wanting to talk with you... and now I know I must, because they're coming to you more, aren't they?

Arminius nodded distantly.

You're a very special little boy, Arminius, a very special boy. Lucian smiled softly. You can see us, when no one else can. You can see the spirits of those who passed away, before they could finish their business here, and therefore cannot rest.

It must be frightening, but I'm here to teach you what it is you see, so you won't be so afraid...

And I'm here to teach you how to stop them from ever hurting anyone close to you again.

"Why won't you turn around?"

Because I'm a mess, you. Lucian chuckled softly. I don't want to scare you. I didn't die a very pretty death, and I don't want to scare you with how I look now.

 "Sometime, show me?" Arminius pleaded, and Lucian nodded slowly. "Promise?" Another nod.

Very well, let's get to it. You're able to see, hear, and speak with the dead. And in you is the power to lay us to rest.

I'll teach you everything I can, Arminius...

My sweet, sweet son...

And so, for the next two years of his life, Arminius didn't mind nightfall.

His father, Lucian, came every night, and tutored Arminius for an hour or so (longer on the weekends and during summer) on the ways and workings of the spirit world. He taught Arminius how to conjure spirits, and how to send them away from him. He taught the boy how to locate them, how to calm them, and how to bind them in place. And most of all, he taught Arminius how to send them on to their final rest, regardless of whether they wished it or not.

Now, recite the chant again, for me.

Arminius opened his eyes as his father's voice resounded through the room, and smiled as he sat up, gazing at his father...

Lucian Corelsti stood at the foot of the bed, gazing softly at his son. Arminius uttered a soft gasp as he saw his father from the front for the first time... saw the gaping wound that stretched from his throat to his groin. Lucian's expression was pained, but he said nothing.

"D-daddy..."

I've taught you everything I could, Arminius, and now it's time for you to do something for me. Lucian moved closer, and held his hands in the air, focused for a moment, and produced something that, to Arminius' eyes, seemed to blaze with white light. He handed it to the boy, who felt it to be a long, sharp blade.

I've spent ten years, in this state, waiting to teach you. Lucian drew the boy close. And now I have completed my goal.

Arminius, I want you to do two things for me.

Tell your mother, that I love her eternally, even in death.

And do me the honor, of being the first spirit you lay to rest.

 "... It's not fair." Arminius whispered, and his father embraced him tighter. "Why!"

Because I must move on, Arminius. Lucian sighed softly. I've stayed here so long... I tire of it... I want to rest.

"... I understand..."

Arminius slowly got out of bed, and took up the blade he'd been handed.

"By death's kneel be ridden,
And winds of guidance
Wing thee to thy rest."

He closed his eyes and focused, still mouthing the words he'd just spoken as he raised the blade over head.

"By the warmth of my
Love, I send thee,
May the gates of the other world
Open to receive thee."

With that, he drew the blade through the air, in a complex series of strokes, aimed towards the spirit of his father. Lucian stood calmly, quietly, and smiled softly as Arminius gazed at him for one long moment.

 "... Good bye..." Arminius whispered. "And rest in peace."

With that final word, Arminius waved a hand towards the series of light strokes he'd drawn in mid-air, which only he and his father could see. The light surrounded his father, whom tilted his head back and sighed happily.

I love you, son... and you've made me proud...


Interlude - Riekin's Tarot

The winds swept through the lands outside the ruined cathedral, but within, four men sought refuge from the outside. A small fire burned brightly in the center of what had once been a church, and three men sat in a half-circle about it. The fourth sat on the other side of the fire, eyes closed, a small and worn deck of cards next to him, which he was laying out in an intricate, mysterious pattern.

 "Using the tarot again, Riekin?" One of the men across the fire spoke coolly. Clad in black, with the white band of an ancient priesthood at his throat, his piercing green eyes were filled with disapproval.

 "..." The man sitting alone made no response. His white hair fell about his youthful, handsome face, now that his dark gray hood was thrown back. Hands clad in gray gauntlets accented with brilliant blue laid the cards out one by one.

 "You know better than to try talking to him now, Thomas," a golden-haired, violet-eyed man sighed. He too wore the band of the same ancient priesthood, but carried himself in a much more relaxed manner.

 "Lazarion, come off it. There's no point in talking any sense into Corem." The fourth was somewhat scruffy, a rugged man with red hair and orange eyes.

"Damn the two of you to - "

"Silence, all of you."

They gazed to the one lying out the cards, Riekin as his name was, who'd just opened his eerie, solid blue eyes and was gazing down at the cards before him.

 "... What do they say?" the scruffy-looking one inquired.

 "He's reading them, Pluth," Lazarion chided gently. "Which is why Thomas and I are being patient."

 "Yeah, I know, but he's usually fast when he reads 'em!"

"I said silence."

The white-haired man never rose his thickly-accented voice above a calm, soft level, but it carried incredible power nonetheless. Several long minutes passed before he nodded to himself, and laid out one, final card.

 "... The page of swords..." he murmured. "Capricorn, is he? How interesting."

"...?" The other three gazed at one another silently.

"The cards speak of a boy, whose future intersects our own in seven years time." Riekin spoke calmly. "The Devil is beneath him; and the Ten of Swords to his right. He stands in the center of that, the Eye of the World, the Magician, and the Lovers, inverted.

 "This boy is a part of two worlds, the living and the dead, but he is no half-breed." Riekin's eyes narrowed slightly. "He traffics with the spirits of the dead, unwillingly, yet is a lover of life.

 "He has had, and will continue to have a great deal of misfortune in his life, but the Eye of the World indicates that he is a great visionary, a great innovator." Riekin laid those cards aside carefully, and gazed at the others. "He comes to join us."

 "I wish Murasa and Shirou where here for this!" Thomas muttered angrily.

 "They've got business in the east, and don't interrupt!" Lazarion hissed.

 "I see his face in my dreams, and he sees mine. That's why I did this reading tonight." Riekin laid out another series of cards calmly. "He lives in strife, inner turmoil, and desires to be set free. Hmm... free from what, I do not know.

 "But in seven years, our paths will cross, and this young man may join our ranks in the end... or exist as a solitary entity until his death."

"... Eerie..."

"But fitting." Riekin shook his head, and laid out another card. "So, who wants a reading?"


Part Four: Trying to Cope

"There's the bell!"

"Damn, we're gonna be late!"

"Move it, dork!"

Arminius uttered a sharp cry as a few of his fellow students charged past him in the halls, a few shoving against his shoulders in their haste to get to class. He halted, and actually leaned against the wall for a moment to allow them to pass, his eyes closed and narrowed in anger and hurt.

God, how he hated intermediate school!

Gritting his teeth, Arminius began to walk again, through a quickly emptying hallway, heading towards his class. He'd refused the school's offer of an assistant to aide him in walking from class to class, instead preferring to use his own senses and nearly perfect memory of exactly how to get from place to place. Not easy, but preferable to being helpless and at the mercy of another!

Ah, it was the end of his seventh year of schooling, and Arminius despised it wholly. He was, in truth, a genius. Already he'd far surpassed everything that secondary could offer him, and there were plans for him simply to take an exam showing that he completed the schooling requirements so he could be done with... Not as if he'd be doing anything with his life. He was blind after all.

Sighing, he walked along, feeling along the wall until he found the knob of the door to his class.
Sixth on the left in the third hall, and the subject he despised most; Literature. It took him a bit longer than the others, reading books by Braile wasn't easy, and it took him a bit longer to assimilate and answer questions about the text. Having an instructor that was an asshole didn't help much.

He entered the room, and as usual felt all eyes upon him. At least the school year was nearly at an end. He made his way slowly in front of the line of desks, finding his seat, on the far right of the front row, and sat down.

... He also hated this class because, at least, he had a feeling, that the teacher had done something terrible.

Mr. Jaros took his usual place at the head of the class; Arminius listened instead of saw of course, and called out their reading assignment for the day. He sighed heavily and reached into his shoulder bag, feeling the titles of the books quickly; he loved to read, but it took him a while; he'd abandoned that damned Braile language when he learned that no really interesting books had it, and had instead learned to read my memorizing the feel of the ink on the page itself. He never ceased to amaze his teachers when he read aloud (albeit slowly) just by running a finger over a page.

 "Quickly, young Mister Corelsti," the instructor snapped, and Arminius managed to locate the book, and the page. "Now, let's begin then."

As usual, they began reading silently, and Arminius sighed heavily, running his finger over the lines of ink that made up the words he could not see. He was tired of this whole ordeal, school, and had a feeling it was tired of him as well. If the actions and attitudes of his classmates were any indication, that was.

Arminius was always a strange young man, who preferred his solitude over anyone's company. The others knew his mother had little to no money; that she was a widow and made their living as a seamstress, but Arminius was always well-dressed due to her hand with the needle. He preferred to dress almost like a nobleman; one night at a gathering, their vampire lord had commended Arminius' appearance, eerily that had seemed to delight the blind boy. He wore long waistcoats and shirts with loose white sleeves, slacks and nice boots, and was all together a stunning young man. The others would often finger their ties and blazers, their slacks and leather shoes, whenever they watched him, but no matter. No one would ever fall for him, so there was no need to worry about looking good for a girl if Arminius was your competition.

 "By the way, class, on the way in, you were meant to turn in last night's assignment," Mr. Jaros sounded displeased. "All but three of you have done so. Miss Anders, Miss Gutien, and Mister Corelsti. Excuses?"

 "... My mother was exhausted last night, sir," Arminius voiced softly. "She was too tired, and I didn't want to wake her to dictate to her."

And again, as always, he opened his eyes when he spoke to the instructor, and shivered involuntarily as he caught sight of a dim black aura of a man surrounding the teacher. Arminius had learned to associate that with terrible things; his dreams told him that much. He'd never had the courage to actually touch the man.

Touch was one thing that annoyed Arminius more than anything in the world. He hated to be touched, and he hated touching people. Whenever he did, things would fly before his eyes that he didn't understand, or worse, sometimes things that he DID understand. He would feel as they felt, see as they saw (or so he thought) and see whatever it was they'd done. And it wasn't just with people, it was with things as well. He despised the evil gifts that had rendered him to this existence, and honestly prayed for a day when they would end.

But had a feeling, all the same, that that day wouldn't come for quite some time.

He lay on his bed that evening, running his fingers over the words of one of his books for the next day. Verbal tests were all that he was able to take, and he had three tomorrow. Mother had been working all day, and he really didn't want to trouble her... it made him feel worse than he usually did about burdening her.

Okay... This is boring... He sighed as he rolled over and fumbled his book onto the table at his bedside, and winced as he heard something crash onto the ground on the other side of the room.

 "Alright, who's there?" Arminius did his best to sound threatening, rolling back over and opening his blind eyes.

Gee, you're mean. And you'd think you'd be nicer to someone you haven't seen in years.

 "... Josh?" Arminius was a bit stunned as he gazed at an all-too chillingly familiar little boy... His first terrible encounter with a spirit.

You've gotten older, I see. Hmm, such a pity; you're no fun anymore.

 "Go away," Arminius ordered crossly, turning his face away from the boy. "I have things I need to do."

Like what, lie there and vegetate?

"Maybe," Arminius snapped, reaching under his bed for the blade his father's spirit had conjured for him that night years ago. "I should set you to rest."

I wouldn't try it if I were you.

"Why not? You're just a child, Josh." Arminius found the blade (well, rather, pricked his finger on it) and drew it out carefully. "You've been here long enough."

Because I don't want to go anywhere. I like it right here, right as I am forever.

 "Well, either go away or I'll send you on!" Arminius snapped, brandishing the blade furiously. The agitated specter before him flashed him a particularly vulgar hand sign before vanishing for the night.

This isn't that bad...

"Mom... could we slow down a little?"

Arminius called out to his mother as the two of them navigated their way through the market place. Adriauna sighed as she stopped in mid-step, and waited for the familiar feel of her son's hands to brush against her shoulder.

 "You need to try keeping up, Arminius," she sighed; the evening's sewing tasks that lay ahead were already frazzling her nerves. "I need to hurry."

 "I'm sorry." He lowered his head, as he always did when it came to being admonished.

Sometimes, be glad you can't see. She frowned as she gazed at the people around them, who all made it clear that they shied away from her and her strange son. These fools think you're crazy, Arminius, and they'll never change their minds.

"Hey, it's Arminius!"

"Lookitt him!"

"So, he really can't see?"

"He says he sees weird things."

"Yeah, I heard that when he was little..."

Contrary to his mother's opinion, Arminius knew exactly how everyone thought of him... and didn't like it one bit.

"I don't know how she puts up with it."

"A single mother and that blind bastard child."

"The father died a strange death, didn't he?"

"And the son sees things that aren't there, even though he's blind."

 "She should just send him to an institution and be done with!"

"I hear they have nice ones in the Citadel..."

I hate you all. Arminius thought vehemently. I hate all of you more than anything else in the world!

 "You need to be in bed early tonight, church tomorrow."

"!"

Well, maybe there were things Arminius hated more than the words of people around him in the streets.

He despised church.

As he and his mother sat side-by-side in the pews of Saint Michael's Cathedral, a two-hour's ride from their small town, Arminius mentally groaned as he always did. He hated the singing in Latin from the choir, he hated the prayers that he was forced to listen to, and he hated the priest who stood at the altar... who had no idea about what had happened there once, a few years back.

Well, neither did Arminius, really, but he had a good idea that it was nothing good.

 "Take those gloves off this time, you!" his mother whispered firmly, and Arminius did with a sigh. His hands were usually encased in black or cream-colored kid leather gloves, because they kept the visions away.

When it came time to receive sacrament, Arminius and his mother rose, and she led him along gently. He knew she was doing her best to smile, to surpass the odds, but that it still hurt her to have all their stabbing eyes upon her.

Arminius as usual knelt before the priest, his eyes closed. He was a stunning vision of a young man, and was usually favored by the priest and the nuns, but it was a favor drawn out of pity, and Arminius despised it.

He received the blessed wafer, and ate that quickly, wanting nothing more than to be away and out of sight once again, but then his hand came in contact with the altar, and he was swept for a moment into a vision.

Time seemed to stop for him, as he watched the people vanish from the cathedral, the colors bleed away to the dull, faded and drab blue-tones that his visions always came in. He knew the colors, because his father had taught him long ago what each looked like, and Arminius was eternally thankful for it.

He watched a young nun come running in, weeping in fear, followed by a man. Arminius was frozen, unable to move, to helpŠ

She reached the altar at the same time he reached her, and was seized by the back of her habit. The man, dark eyed and frightening, produced a knife from within the folds of the coat he wore, and drew it across her throat in a single, even slash. Arminius raised his eyes to the cross as her blood spurted out, hot with her fear and desperation-

Then his vision ended, and the priest was asking him if he was quite alright.

 "I... y-yes..." Arminius did his best to sound meek; not too hard considering the sight he'd just born witness to. He took a sip of the wine presented to him, then whispered softly. "Father, may I speak with you later?"

 "Certainly," the priest whispered back, and then Adriauna received her own sacrament, before leading Arminius back to his seat gently.

"What's the matter?" She whispered.

"I just want to talk with him." Arminius replied softly, lowering his head.

"Nothing about those - "

"No."

He remained sitting at the pew, until the cathedral had cleared out, and only he and the priest, Father Damon, were left.

 "Ah, Arminius," The priest's voice was kind as he walked over and took a seat next to the young man. "What troubles you?"

 "Š Father, I must tell you something." Arminius sighed, his blind eyes opening, roaming the cathedral. He could hear the priest beside him shiver slightly, as most were wont to when they saw Arminius' white eyes. "And I want you to tell me the truth if I ask you questions."

"Of course, my son."

"...Years ago, there was a young nun here..." Arminius had been sitting in the front most pew, and rose slowly, feeling his way carefully towards the altar, and laying his bared hands upon it. "...Vibrant green eyes, fair skin, slight of build. Very beautiful..."

"...Well, I, err, I suppose there could have been - "

"Answer me truthfully, Father." Arminius' voice went cold quite suddenly.

"Yes."

"Š Tell me, did she die, quite suddenly?"

"ArminiusŠ" Father Damon rose as well; the youth could hear him moving.

"Or did she simply vanish?"

"The latter of the two is correct, why do you ask me this, Arminius - "

 "You were a young altar boy, back then, were you not?" Arminius closed his eyes as visions washed over him. "It wasŠ perhaps ten, fifteen years ago, somewhere about there."

 "...That would have been Sister Ezrabeth." The priest sighed heavily. "She vanished, one morning, without a trace. No one knew what happened to her. There were rumors that a gentleman in town was enamored with her, and that they ran away together. Both vanished you see, that day."

 "However, when he returned, she wasn't with him. In fact, he was most distraught to hear of her disappearance."

 "...I speak the truth, Father, when I say that she never disappeared." Arminius sighed heavily, and lowered his hands. "Sister Ezrabeth died, here in this very cathedral; not ten feet from where I stand."

 "Arminius!" The priest seemed most... angered. "What nonsense do you - "

 "I see it, Father," the young man replied coolly. "I suppose you hold no stock in rumors. The townsfolk from Ipira all whisper I'm insane; that I'm touched by the Devil, and the like. That I see visions of things that happened long ago, and the eerie part is that most are true, but few people admit to it.

"I knelt here today, Father, and I tell the truth when I say I experienced no religious exaltation.
Rather, I witnessed the death of the self-same young woman I described to you, at the hands of a dark-haired young man."

"...How... how did she..."

"He chased her down, and slit her throat," Arminius replied somewhat mournfully, as he walked behind the altar a few paces then stopped. "Right here, she died. Every Sunday, I've seen her blood staining the altar in spite of its cloth, and staining the cross no matter how clean the cathedral has been scrubbed.

 "He cleaned up after himself, I suppose, and that's why no one knew. Perhaps he's the same gentleman who vanished the same day. I suppose he went to bury her, but her spirit... she still walks this cathedral, sir."

"Arminius, you speak blasphemy - "

"I speak the truth, and tell no lies," Arminius replied coolly. "I hear no evil, speak no evil, yet see it everywhere."

"..."

"I just had to tell you, Father..." Arminius smiled somewhat sadly as he navigated his way back around the altar, and began heading towards the doors. "You were quite enamored with her at one time, I believe, and it was my duty, I think, to tell you."

 "...This man..." The priest's words were filled with pain. "What did he look like?"

 "...Dark hair, drawn back with cord at the base of his neck, hung to his shoulder blades." Arminius actually motioned to these places on his own body. "Dark, dark eyes, almost black, and sun-darkened skin. Tall, strong, but intelligent-looking - "

 "Ferin Jaros!" Father Damon hissed, and Arminius felt a sudden well of fear in his heart.

 "...Now a school instructor in Ipira." Arminius lowered his head. "So... that's why black dances around him."

 "Arminius... your gift... you've a gift from God!" the priest exclaimed, but the boy shook his head.

 "No, I doubt that very much." Arminius sighed heavily. "If my gift were from God, why is it such a curse? I am ostracized from society; well, very nearly at least. I cannot see as others see, and instead see terrible visions of the past and of the dead. And I cannot stop it."

 "Arminius... you are gifted," The priest approached him, and Arminius jumped slightly as the man embraced him. "You see beyond sight, young man, and though it may seem a bane to you, it is a gift nonetheless. Perhaps not from God, but from Fate."

To see beyond sight...? Arminius was silent as the priest finally released him, and made no response to the man's parting words. ...Finally, someone understands me.

Finally...


Interlude - The Cards Speak of the Boy...

"Riekin, aren't you hungry?"

"..."

"He's been sitting there for hours with those damned cards!" Thomas sighed as he sat down beside the others, in the tavern on the outskirts of the town of Ipira. They all gazed silently at Riekin, who'd taken a booth a few yards away from them, and was currently using the tabletop for his tarot cards. "I hate it when he does that!"

 "Riekin's will is what he follows, along with whatever he reads in those cards." Lazarion shook his head. "And he's reading something in them that we cannot fathom."

From across the way, Riekin gazed silently at the cards, his hood hiding his face from the world, only his pale blue eyes glistening through.

This is it, he decided, at last stretching and working out the tension in his back. Ipira is the place, and this young man is here even now, in this town...

We will meet in four short years, child... and I pray life treats you well until then... He turned over a card or two and sighed.

But then again, it won't.


Part Five: The Edge of Despair

Sometimes, life just fucked you over.

But if you were Arminius Corelsti, life always fucked you over.

 "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to bid farewell to our dear sister Adriauna..."

Arminius stood silently in the rain, along with two or three dozen of the townsfolk, as the priest intoned his blessings over the coffin bearing the body of Adriauna Corelsti, Arminius' mother. The boy stood stock still, a single white rose clutched in his shaking hand. Pale white eyes were opened wide as they listened to the priest's words... and cursed the damned fool for thinking that God even existed or gave a damn.

Mother... Arminius closed his eyes, as tears threatened to flow. He could trace his life out on a river of tears, it seemed. Mother, mother... why you?

He'd been in bed, already, when he heard a garbled cry from somewhere near the kitchen.

 "Mother?" he called out, already swinging his legs out of bed. He felt his way towards the door, and out into the hallway.

Choking, garbled cries were all that he heard.

"Mother!" he shouted, quickening his pace and feeling along the wall, the bitter taste of terror rising in his throat. "MOTHER!"

The sounds increased as he made his way; terrible gasping breaths and cries for help that gradually grew weaker.

"MOTHE-AHH!"

Arminius cried out as his ankles caught on something soft and unyielding, and he tumbled to the ground, supporting himself on his hands as he fell.

 "Mother!" He shouted, blind eyes open and fearful. "Oh God!"

She reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist, shaking, and Arminius uttered a scream as her feelings rushed out to him in a wave of terror and pain.

 "... for now we see as through a glass darkly, but then we shall see clearly face to face."

Jenna Gutien, for whom Adriauna Corelsti had made many a fine dress over the years, gently reached out and tapped Arminius' shoulder. The boy raised his eyes ever so slightly, and she led him slowly towards the coffin, where he laid his white rose on the lid gently.

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

He'd begun screaming, for he felt her agony, her pain. His chest burned with an icy fire, if such a thing were possible, and his heart felt as though it leapt and cavorted in spasms of total distress. He kept screaming as he saw through her eyes, saw the world spinning, saw vision fading, felt the sudden pain of a vein in the eye bursting from the sudden rise of her blood pressure, and the vision go red and blurred.

 "... Rest in peace," Arminius said softly, lying his hand against the smooth wood and the tears spilled over. "Mother..."

"MOTHER! NOOOOOO!"

At last, the vision faded, and her hand fell from his wrist as the last breath escaped her body...

And then he was alone, clutching the lifeless body of his mother, while a child's evil laughter echoed all around him.

He toppled to his knees as sobs wracked his body...


Interlude - Distant Angels

They stood quite some distance from the funeral, watching the boy break down into hopeless sobbing.

 "... That's him?" Lazarion's voice was somewhat uncertain.

 "Yes, that's him," Riekin replied, his cold eyes analyzing the young man at a distance. "That is most certainly him, and let it be known that we must return."

"... He's so young..."

"And it cannot be helped."


Part Six: A New Path...

Then again, sometimes, one just had to get even.

Two years, two years since his mother's death... since the Gutien family had taken him into their home. It was a pity maneuver, to better themselves in society, but it had certainly done nothing for his social life. On the contrary, it seemed to have had an even more detrimental effect. Arminius had gone ahead and taken his exam early, and had exited schooling due to the fact that, when it all came down to it, having ten feet of cleared space all around one during a school day was more than anyone could willingly handle. He was swiftly becoming bitter, though he'd never admit that to anyone if he could avoid it.

Arminius sighed as he gazed out the window of the empty house. They'd gone to church, and as usual, he'd managed to weasel his way out by claiming he had too many memories of his mother there. He hated church, hated God, and hated the world in general because his mother had been taken from him, and those who would see would never understand how he felt. The only solace in his life had become Father Damon, but even then, things were difficult. And Father Damon had been busy for the past few weeks, when a strange malady had come over the people of Ipira. The afflicted would speak in voices not of their own volition, their flesh went ice cold, and their bodies would seize uncontrollably. No one knew what was causing itŠ

But Arminius had a damned good guess.

For as long as Arminius had been alive, spirits had been strangely active in Ipira. He couldn't fathom why, but his own father had once spoken of a dark history, that hovered like a cancer just beneath the surface of Ipira's bright countenance. Spirits are drawn to it like a flame, he'd said, and their presence urges the darker side of the human nature to manifest. That's why there was so much violence in Ipira, and that was why there were so many spirits of murdered townsfolk.

...I wonderŠ if I learned what happened here, could I stop them all? Arminius mused slightly. I overheard Madame and Master Gutien; seven more children fell victim last night. How long can I allow this to go on?

Arminius....

Arminiusssssss....

"Damnit!"

He leapt to his feet, from his vantage point on a window seat, eyes opening to gaze at an assembly of spirits that had become far too familiar a sight to his useless eyes.

 "GO AWAY!" he shouted violently, swinging at them with his bare hands.  "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

You'll never be free of us, Arminius... The torn woman smiled horridly.

We'll always be with you... Josh grinned darkly.

"LEAVE ME ALONEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Let us embrace you, Arminius...

Come to us...

Join us...

Help us...

We want you...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

He sat huddled in the corner, by the time they returned that evening, arms wrapped around his knees, eyes staring blankly at the rest of the room.

"A-Arminius....?"

"... I'm not Arminius..." he said coldly, the voice of a murderer that had died years ago. "I am no one - " The voice of a woman.

"I am everyone." A child, devilish with mirth.

 "And I am not alive." Another man, this time with a thick accent.

 "And I will not rest." Another woman, this time sleek and sensual.

"What the Devil-"

Then his eyes rolled back, and Arminius toppled to the ground, his body beginning to seize
uncontrollably. They leapt to help him, crying out as they felt his flesh, as cold as ice.

 "He's the same as the others have been, all over town!" Master Gutien, as he was called, cried fearfully.

"What do we do - "

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Arminius bolted upright into a sitting position quite suddenly, eyes wide and filled with rage.

"THAT IS IT!" he screamed. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH!"

"Arminius!" they cried fearfully, as he struggled to his feet.

 "No more! I won't stand for it anymore!" he screamed, lurching on down the hall towards his room with the pace of a fevered madman. "You'll pay! You'll all PAY!"

Master Gutien followed the boy quickly, his eyes wide with fear. Arminius had reached his room, and was throwing things from his dresser drawer furiously, searching for something.

 "Arminius, what's the matter!" Gutien yelled fearfully. "What are you talking - "

He fell silent as Arminius withdrew something wrapped in a long piece of soft gray velvet, as the boy removed the velvet to reveal a long, hiltless blade about twice the length of the boy's own arm.

 "I'm not going to stand for it anymore," Arminius repeated coldly, turning to face Gutien calmly, lucidly.

 "The village is plagued, Master Gutien, by the spirits of the dead," Arminius informed him coldly.  "They're drawn here, by this town's own dark history."

"Š"

"I know not what that dark history is, sir." Arminius closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself. "But I must find out!

 "You are an elected official, sir! You must get me to the town's archives! I must be allowed to search them!"

"Arminius, you speak madne - "

"Madness? Yes, well, perhaps I do." Arminius smiled eerily. "Or, perhaps in light of the events in our town, I'm the sanest person you currently know.

 "Spirits plague this town, Master Gutien, Manager of Records of Ipira." Arminius' voice was... different, somehow. Older, stronger, yet with an underlying instability that chilled Gutien to his very core. "And I can stop them, because I can see them! But I must know what draws them here, and I must know why they appear in such abundance!"

 "...You can stop this terrible blight on our town?" Gutien whispered shakily.

"I believe so."

"...Come then." He took Arminius' hand with a sudden vigor. "We'll do it!"

Arminius spent the entire night there, in the archives of Ipira's town hall, scanning through volume upon volume of the town's history. Master Gutien (though he'd asked Arminius to abandon that title, and call him Claude) was at his side all the way, scanning through and searching with the boy for exactly what had happened in this city. It wasn't easy; volumes in Ipira were kept in a strange order, as per the orders of the mayor and his lackies, whom Arminius never stopped hearing ill will towards from everyone else in Ipira.

 "H-here!" Claude stammered suddenly, and Arminius gazed blindly towards him. "Try this one!"

The boy received the book, large and heavy, and ran his fingers over the cover quickly. That Which Must Be Kept An Account of the History of Ipira, Unbiased And In Whole the Truth

 "What..." Arminius whispered. "So, apparently no one else knows the whole, unbiased truth?"

And with that, the boy opened the book and began to read.

Most of the book was dry, stuffy old nonsense, about the town's formation and the land grant from their vampire lord, et cetera. It droned on for several dozen pages about this election or that official's campaign and it was honestly boring, until Arminius scanned down the title of the third chapter.

 "That Which Shall Be Hidden and Remembered..." Arminius breathed, narrowing his eyes slightly as he began to read once again.

There, it all came to pass.

"...In the early days of vampiric rule, when the dark nobleman waged war amongst themselves with their human subjects as soldiers, Ipira volunteered itself as execution grounds for enemy forces." Arminius read aloud softly. "The vampire lord, Duke Yemarov, commended his subjects and their eagerness to serve him, and the town received many a land grant as it gained infamy for its unjust executions of the innocent, unwilling subjects from other fiefdomsŠ"

 "My god..." Claude whispered shakily. Arminius fell silent, reading on quickly. Now they were getting somewhere...

 "Here's another bit." Arminius shivered slightly. "During the Great Witch Burnings of 23 A.C., Ipira was again used as execution grounds, as well as the center for judgment in the area.

 "It was here that seventy thousand accused witches met their deaths..." Arminius shivered uncontrollably as he read the next line. "Whether those deaths were justly deserved or no was never an issue raised before the town fathers... Those who arrived in Ipira never left it alive..."

 "...Enough." Arminius shook his head at last, pushing the book aside. "I'd rather not read anymore. That's enough on this damned town's bloody past!"

"..."

"Claude, if you'd be so kind as to acquire a few things for me, for tomorrow night?" Arminius narrowed his eyes as he spoke. "Salt, most definitely, and at least a hundred slips of paper two inches across and six inches long."

 "What-err... certainly!"


Part Seven: The First Hunt

And so it was, that on the evening of the very next day, Arminius Corelsti stood in the center square of Ipira, atop the fountain, directing the drawing of a complex and intricate seal in salt upon the ground.

I've never been so frightened in my entire life! Arminius thought, a momentary thrill running through his body as he gave the instructions for another part of the seal to be drawn out for him. He grasped tight the handle of his blade, and momentarily slipped a hand into his coat to feel the strips of paper, awaiting his use. His father had taught him well, years ago, and now Arminius would use those lessons to make him proud.

 "...And it should be done," Arminius called out at last, and received nervous responses. "Keep everyone inside tonight, and those whom are possessed should be kept away from all doors and windows."

"You got it!"

"This is the end of the line." Arminius smiled somewhat bitterly, for he knew that the sun was
already beginning to sink in the skies. "Then let us begin! Go now, and whatever happens, do not come outside tonight!"

And so began the first hunt of Arminius' life... The moment when Arminius ceased to be a boy, and became the first Spirit Hunter.

As darkness claimed the land, Arminius began to chant rapidly, in a language who's name was no longer known by those who still dwelt within their flesh.

"Iku ser-tuus
Ahmei neru
Mii-en tu
Nen grat-ei
Soh-nen
Je'eh
Tii-kuus!"

Over and over, Arminius chanted this, arms opened to the skies, his voice escalating with every repetition. His head was tilted back as he continued to chant, and his features were set with determination.

"IKU SER-TUUS
AHMEI NERU
MII-EH TU
NEN GRAT-EI
SOH-NEN
JE'EH
TII-KUUS!"

At last, that was it, the chant was complete.

Arminius opened his eyes as the seal drawn on the ground all around his vantage point at the top of the town square's fountain, burst with a brilliant, blue-white light. The light raced outward from its center, illuminating and etching every line, every detail of the sigil. This light filled the square, illuminating every inch, every detail, every crack... and enabling Arminius to see it all for the very first time in his life.

 "Kir-iitoh!" he shouted, raising his blade to the skies.
  
"By Seraphim's horn, I call to your world!
Beyond death's gates I scream!
I command those spirits who have no solace!
Come to me! Come to me!"

From within their homes, the citizens of Ipira watched in awe and fear as Arminius, the crazy boy, the cursed one, performed magics of the likes none had ever dreamed possible.

From the farthest reaches of the town, the spirits came soaring towards the center square, Arminius' seal and words summoning them as swiftly as blood drew sharks. They came howling in rage and surprise, anger touched with fear of this fleshly being who knew their language, whose power they could hardly fathom and already knew to fear.

Arminius' eyes narrowed as he gazed out at the spirits rushing toward his seal, and began to draw sigils in the air with his blade, each illuminated in light as he moved on.

 "Eru! Jas! Tan! Hae! Sur! Kit! Wae! Iru! Mae! Jii! Toh!" He shouted, pivoting and drawing a full circle of the sigils around himself before his blade pointed skyward once again. "Seal!"

The circle of sigils exploded around him, rushing out to the very edge of the seal he'd already placed around the town square, and the area was enveloped in a dome of silvery-white light. Those spirits who were closest were drawn screaming and howling against that barrier, locked against it as surely as if they were beings of flesh. The remainder, who'd barely managed to escape capture, screamed their rage at Arminius in tongues he'd never dreamed possible.

"By death's kneel be ridden,
May flights of Angels
Wing thee to thy
Final Rest!"

With that, Arminius leapt from the top of the fountain, blade in hand, and proceeded around the
circle, running the blade through his spectral opponents as a knife ran through hot butter. They
sickened him, these foul spirits, their hatred-torn appearances and their spite for him. They screamed obscenities as he sent them on, they spat and cursed him to the end of his days, and still he continued on impassively, until the last spirit of that circle had vanished into oblivion.

The remainder screamed at him in utter rage, but no, no more for tonight. Arminius felt a sharp pain at his temples, and actually staggered back a few feet, wearily leaning against the fountain and sinking to his knees. Exhaustion slammed into him like a wave, and he felt vomit rising in his throat, but fought it down mightily. No, no, he had to stay awake.

 "...Curse all you like," Arminius hissed angrily. "Curse and scream if it makes you feel better. But tomorrow night, I'll finish the job, and you're never to plague this city again."

Dawn came early, that morning, and the townspeople found Arminius lying curled on his side, fast asleep and murmuring softly in his dreams. Claude and Jenna Gutien bore him back to their home, where he only awoke for a moment or so to pass on a few words to them.

"Again, tonight," he murmured somewhat casually. "But right now, I'm just a little tired."

And thus he lapsed into a deep, deep sleep, and didn't awake until an hour or so before darkness.

Arminius sighed heavily as he resumed his place at the fountain, taking the papers in hand shakily. He was exhausted, and weak from lack of eating, but there was no time for it now. He had to persist, to persevere, and drive these monsters from his town!

He heaved another sigh, which turned into a yawn as he nearly lost his balance. He knew that, tonight, all eyes in town would be on him, and the very idea was frightening. But no, NO! Everything would be fine! Everything was going to be just fine!

Darkness fell at last, and Arminius began to chant once again, the same chant he'd used last night. With any luck, his seal was still in place...

Wham bam, there it was, still glowing strong and ready.

He shouted his challenge to the spirits once again, a slight smile crossing his features as he gazed at the area around him in challenge.

 "Come, come!" he shouted, jeering at them. "I fear nothing!"

Big mistake.

Arminius' eyes widened as they converged upon him suddenly, from all sides. His seal was meant to keep them back, to keep them away, and he hadn't cast his capture ward on them yet, but he soon realized what a mistake he'd made. Those whom he'd slain last night were mere cannon fodder, and these spirits were the real deal. These spirits halted at the edge of his sigil for but a moment, screamed out a curse in their own language, and shattered their way inside.

 "Oh GOD!" Arminius screamed, leaping down and back from the fountain quickly, his papers clenched tightly in his hands. Gritting his teeth, and spreading them in a circle around him, Arminius levitated the papers into mid-air, and began to chant.

"Aru hika
No mau
Ii no
Maku shite
No min-ei
Gaura!"

The papers flared to light, brilliant white, and with a short cry of effort, Arminius sent them flying out in a circle towards the spirits converging upon him. But he soon realized that, tonight, he was in way over his head. The spirits who were struck were only felled by three or four of the wards striking them, and the rest still converged.

Arminius shrieked and dodged to the side as a group of them lashed out towards him; nightmarish visions all of them. Several were missing limbs, others had large strps of flesh hanging from their bodies. Some were missing half of their faces, eyes hung from sockets, skulls were partially opened, and others were mutilated beyond Arminius' most horrid nightmares. Some were blackened, their flesh burned and blistered, and others were much as his father had once been, gutted; their insides hanging halfway out of their bodies.

He swung his sword again and again, warding them away from him and screaming all the while. These nightmare specters called his name again and again, each telling him what they'd like to do to him, each a new vision and promise of utter horror and agony. He screamed as he was struck by a few here and there; solid blows of icy cold agony...

Then one embraced him from behind, and Arminius let out a wordless keening cry at the top of his lungs, almost beyond the limits of human hearing. Another took hold of him, and soon, what seemed as several dozen all had their hands on his body, stroking him in their icy cold, feeding off his pain, his terror, his very life force and that which made Arminius a human being. Others coaxed their way inside of him, and his mind was assailed with visions of their deaths and the heinous deeds that many had wrought in life. And Arminius screamed, until he could scream no longer, only lie limp and yielding in their frigid embraces...

The Immortals had been convening amongst themselves, at the sight of an ancient, ruined bastion of a faith near to being abandoned after the Cataclysm, dining and drinking together, while comparing notes on how best to deal with this new world. They welcomed the newest member of their ranks, and simply made small talk.

Rather, they did, until Riekin uttered a sharp gasp and the wineglass in his hand shattered into a thousand crystal shards.

 "Master Riekin!" the one named Lazarion cried, running to the man's side in a heartbeat and kneeling. "What is it! What do you see!"

 "They have him..." Riekin whispered, his blue eyes wide and distant. "They have him and they don't want to let him go!"

 "Master, what do you mean..." Lazarion thought hard for a moment. "That... that boy? Him?"

 "They have him..." Riekin nodded worriedly. "And he will not escape them unscathed!"

It seemed an eternity as Arminius lay in the cold, unearthly embraces of the spirits. They caressed his body, spoke words of evil promises in his ear, gazed into his eyes; eyes only fit to see them forever, and wrought their havoc throughout his mind, dragging him to the brink of sanity. Tears had gathered in his eyes, and had frozen part of the way down his cheeks. His lips, tinged blue with the cold, were lightly parted as he struggled to make a single sound, and his flesh, blanched a pure white, was as ice to the touch. Every muscle was frozen; he was going to die here...

You're out of your league, Arminius.

His eyes managed to loll to the right, where a voice that he'd not heard in years addressed him. It was the voice of a child, the voice of a little girl who'd died violently because of him...

Sara...

Stop being so weak, Arminius. The little girl stood just beyond the other spirits, gazing at him calmly, and coldly at the same time. You have a job to do here, and you're not getting it done.

But... I can't move... I can't...

You mean you won't, because you're so frightened that you've given up. She frowned at him, and stamped her little foot hard. WAKE UP, Arminius! Everyone's depending on YOU to save them! And you HAVE TO!

Depending on... me...?

Yes, you big stupid head! she snapped at him, waving her little hands in the air in frustration. My Mommy and Daddy are depending on you! And so is my new baby sister! YOU have to save them! YOU have to save EVERYONE! And you can DO IT!

That was all it took.

With a scream of anguished rage, Arminius summoned forth the last dregs of energy within his icy cold body, and forced them to flow throughout his body, driving away the leeching cold, driving away the unGodly visions, and driving away the spirits who whispered evils in his soul.

 "I EXPELL THEE!" Arminius screamed, and those within his body were sent retreating with such vicious force that they vanished instantaneously.

 "BY DEATH'S KNELL BE RIDDEN!" Arminius screamed, his blade lashing through the air in forbidden sigils, those his father had once begged him never to use unless there was no other choice. "FLIGHTS OF DEVILS SHALT WING THEE TO THY PUNISHMENT!"

With that, Arminius plunged his blade into the ground, and the spirits around him screamed in agony as they were ripped from the fleshly world, and sent hurtling into darkness eternal. Sara smiled at him as she watched him from just beyond the area of his sigil, the confines of his spell, before she closed her eyes and vanished from his view, forever.

Arminius' eyes were wide and blanker than they'd ever been, as he toppled to his knees, fervently gripping his blade to support his body. Sweat dripped from his forehead, yet his flesh was still so unGodly cold... So cold...

They found him the next morning, sitting silently on the edge of the fountain. His hands were folded in his lap, and he slowly blinked every so often.

Arminius' beautiful features were blank and almost without animation as he gazed off into space around him in silence. His white-blonde hair, paler than before, lay about his shoulders like silk, and his heavily lashed eyes bore nothing but distant exhaustion. His blade lay at his side, and even when someone laid a hand on his shoulder, Arminius barely seemed to feel it.

And so, Claude and Jenna bore him back to their manor, where he fell into a deep slumber the moment his head hit the pillow, and did not awaken for several days.


Interlude - The Circle Is Soon to be Complete

Riekin sighed as he gazed at his companions; seven in all, from all walks of life. All hunters, all fiery spirits, and all ready to begin gathering followers for themselves.

But it was too soon; eight they were, counting him, and another was needed for the balance. Soon, soon they would fetch him, their Visionary, their doll-child...

And then the circle would be complete.


Interlude - Arminius' Monologue

Who are you?

I see you in my dreams. You watch me, I watch you.

You stand before me, now every night, and we stare at each other without words.

Who are you?

Why do you watch me?

And will we ever meet?

I pray not, because I'm not the same boy you used to see.

I am nothing.

I am everything.

I am a doll.

Yes, that's right, don't look so shocked. I am a lifeless, emotionless doll, who exists day by meaningless day in a haze of feeling and sound that all blend together into nonsensical babble.

I am a doll.

I come to life when I am needed. When someone stands before me and begs me to rid their home of spirits. And so I do, but when I return, I become a doll once again.

I eat. I breathe. I move. I walk. But I rarely sleep anymore. I don't want to now. But when I do, I sometimes dream of you.

I eat. I breathe. I move. I walk. But I do not truly live anymore.

The people here, they hate me, though they do not say it. I am a freakish doll to them. It doesn't matter who I saved. It doesn't matter if my loss of my emotions won them their freedom back. It doesn't matter to them that I cling to sanity only by the thinnest thread after ridding their town of its spirit scourge. No. They only see a freak, who must be avoided. They only see a doll, who sits there and gazes at them blindly, impassively, day by day.

They are why I exist this way.

I have no reason to live anymore. I have no reason to love anymore. To laugh, to cry, to play, to even walk amongst them. They do not accept me, and they never will again. In fact, they never did.

So, are you certain we should keep meeting like this?

Where are you going?

Are you abandoning me too?

It's better that way, I suppose.

I am a doll.

I need no one.


Part Eight: The Immortal Doll

Life was so much easier, when you were a doll.

Arminius spent his day to day existence in a haze between what felt as life and death. He would rise every morning and clothe himself, then sit and wait for the rest of the household to awaken. He usually rose before the rest of them, because he rarely slept anymore. When they awoke, one of the maids would fetch him, and lead him slowly through the house towards the table, where he would sit and eat with the Gutiens, and then await in silence as the table was cleared. His closed eyes never opened when he did this, only remained closed, and his expression was always slackened and relaxed; impassive. They always remarked, in whispers, as to how much he resembled a doll. He'd been this way for two years now, only rousing himself to move and function at an entirely normal level when someone came to him from the outer-lying towns, and begged his assistance. Then he'd be gone for days, weeks sometimes, and would return as silent and distant as ever.

Otherwise, he would spend his days sitting in the gardens, or sometimes one of the servants would take him out and around the town, just so he could walk around. Both times, people would catch sight of him, and the haze of sound would be torn with whispers and hissing words. None of it made much sense anymore, but he didn't even care nowadays. Why should he?

He would dine with the family at mid-day, and then again in the evenings. He spent those sitting motionlessly on the window seat, gazing out blindly at a world that even in darkness would never accept him. No one cared about Arminius Corelsti. No one even wanted to thank him. No, they'd all rather just stay away and stare at him from afar; like the freak he was.

And so monotonous was this routine that, when there came a change, it was impossible not to notice.

Two years after the events that had rid Ipira of its spirits, a group of people came to call. They arrived one early summer morning, the aniversary of his mother's funeral, when the birds were singing and Arminius was lost as usual in the outermost reaches of his thoughts, awaiting the maid to fetch him as usual.

But this time, she didn't.

This time, no one came for him.

Ah, something is different, Arminius thought calmly, as he slowly rose to his feet and began to walk towards the door, hands outstretched all the while. Something is so earth-shattering that I am forgotten, apparently? Well, I am a doll, but I am not helpless.

He made his way to the stairs slowly, when the sound of voices stopped him.

 "Arminius won't see anyone today, I can guarantee it." Jenna's voice sounded from below. "It's not a good day."

 "He'll see us, Madame," a light, soothing voice replied.

 "Yes, indeed he will." Another, much stronger voice, thickly accented with something Arminius couldn't place, sounded. "In fact, he's standing near the top of the stairs, just out of sight, listening to us speak of him."

"What!"

"..." Arminius remained silent for a few, long minutes, before he took a few steps out and halted at the head of the stairs.

Riekin drew in a slight breath as the boy halted at the top of the stairs, and actually drew back his hood for a moment, gazing at the boy.

Arminius Corelsti was a radiant, beautiful young man of seventeen years, who looked a bit more like a young woman than like a man. His features were soft and gentle, childish and smooth, and his flesh was almost white he was so pale. Long, slightly waved hair, white-blonde and almost the color of moonlight, fell about his shoulders to his waist, and he was clad as a nobleman would have. A white shirt with a ruffled collar and sleeves, a black velvet waistcoat, a black overcoat decorated with gold edging, slim-fitting slacks tucked into black boots, and black kid leather gloves. His heavily-lashed eyes were closed, and his body was altogether slim, delicate, yet seemed to radiate an aura of power at the same time. He looked... well, like a doll.

This is why you said you were a doll, isn't it? Riekin thought to himself for a moment.

 "Gentlemen, remove your cloaks. We're indoors, and it's a bit warm," Riekin spoke calmly.

Arminius slowly began his descent down the stairs, closed eyes never once opening as he navigated his way.

 "..." He was silent as he reached the landing, and listened carefully for a moment, listening to the heartbeats of these men, and the rustling of cloth for a moment or so before he headed towards them.

Then he heard the sound of cloth being drawn away, and uttered a soft gasp as he suddenly registered light though his eyes were closed.

He opened his white eyes, to see coronas of blazing white around these strangers; eight in all. Two auras of light surrounded these men; auras of a vibrantly strong color each, and then the corona of white around that. Sheer power radiated and danced around them, and Arminius felt a twinge of fear rise within him, mixed with pure awe.

 "...Who are you?" Arminius said softly at last, gazing at them calmly and distantly.

 "Who are you..." one of them men said, walking closer to him. This man's aura was a vibrant blue, all around his body, that even bled into the white aura a bit.

"I see you in my dreams. You watch me, I watch you.

"You stand before me, now every night, and we stare at each other without words.

"Who are you?

"Why do you watch me?

"And will we ever meet?

Riekin's expression was unreadable as he gazed at the young man, and spoke calmly.

 "I prayed that we would, because you were exactly what you were meant to be, and so was I.

"I am everything.

"I am nothing.

"I am an Immortal.

"My life lies beyond time, and my birth was before the days of the Cataclysm, before man knew how to fight with guns and the weapons of destruction. My birth was during the original age of the sword, when the world was still young and when man was still very weak.

 "I've walked the earth for thousands of years with my companions, yet eternally I am apart from them, for I was the first. My life is a tumult of desire to lead and desire to destroy darkness; a hellish blend of honor, glory, battle and loss.

 "I am an Immortal, and I have sought you for many years.

 "We are both the first of our kind, though you are much younger than I.

"I wish to guide you.

"To teach you.

"And I never walked away from you.

"It was you, who walked away from me."

"I see you in my dreams, and I know your face," Arminius whispered, at the same moment this other man did. "You come to me, and we stand and stare, and exchange no words. We merely regard one another."

 "...My name is Riekin Vistani," the blue-aura man said, and Arminius nodded. "You knew that.

 "I've been looking for you for many years, Arminius. Looking forward to meeting you."

 "Why?" the youth inquired, walking closer to the man, white eyes filled with questioning.

 "Because it is your destiny to walk the same path as the eight of us." Riekin's words rang true somewhere deep in Arminius' doll-cold heart. "We are hunters, Arminius; hunters of evil. Hunters of darkness, who seek to protect mankind and to serve them, at whatever the cost to ourselves.

 "I am a hunter of vampires. The others hunt the demons, the werebeasts, the witches, the dragons..." Riekin reached out and laid a hand on Arminius' shoulder. "And you, who see the spirits, hunt them."

 "...And you wish me to join you?" Arminius breathed, removing his gloves and closing his eyes as he reached up and took Riekin's hand gently. He drew in a shaky breath as visions danced through his head, of past and futures to come.

He saw himself, standing at Riekin's side, directing a legion of men and women who were just like him. They saw spirits, they heard their ghostly promises and threats, and they wanted to serve him to the fullest. They could see, and they gazed at him with love and adoration. He saw himself and seven others, standing at Riekin's side and directing legions of proud, noble warriors against the darkness, and he saw himself standing at Riekin's side as a proud new country was formed, devoted to the tenets of peace and justice eternal.

"...Eternity..." Arminius whispered. "Our empire would last forever..."

 "...Yes." Riekin nodded, his tone awed by Arminius' words.

"An empire eternally devoted to peace, populated by those who know how to smile and never have to weep... and protected by the strong, noble hunters, who are sworn to uphold the light and oppose the darkness." Arminius did something he hadn't done in two years.

He smiled.

"For this, I give myself to you." He gazed at the others. "I am Arminius Corelsti, the Hunter of Spirits, and your brother in arms."

 "I am Lazarion Taranes." Another, with a vibrant, violet aura stepped forward. "The Hunter of Demons, and I accept you with open arms."

 "Pluth Vance." The one with the vivid orange aura made an enthusiastic gesture. "Hunter of Werebeasts, and your brother in arms!"

 "Father Thomas Corem." This one, with an impressive emerald aura. "Hunter of the Witches, and your companion on this path."

 "Shotou Murasa," Another stepped forward, his aura a torrential midnight blue. His voice was accented and soft; he was from the East. "Hunter of the Greater Dragons, I welcome you, brother."

 "Tessa Lourdes," A woman, with a rich brown aura. "Hunter of the Golems, embrace my new brother."

 "Theo Loomas," Another, this one with yellow. "Hunter of the Mutants, welcome you."

 "Corlath Toin." A rich, almost golden aura bearing man spoke. "Hunter of the Lamia, welcome you as my brother."

 "Tadatsu Shirau," This one's aura was red and powerful. "Hunter of the Lesser Dragons. I welcome you."

He was to leave the Gutien manor, and Ipira behind forever, the following morning.
 
Arminius Corelsti sighed as he packed the few things he would be taking with him, while Riekin sat silently on the window seat and watched him. The others were out in town, making all the necessary arrangements for his departure.

 "...You are the first of your kind, you said." Arminius spoke suddenly, as he fastened the last clasp of the bag that held his few possessions. "What did you mean?"

 "I am the first hunter, and the first Immortal." Riekin shrugged slightly, a gesture that went unseen.

 "And I am the first of mine, I take it." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"..." Arminius nodded and narrowed his eyes. "You will make me as you are?"

"Yes."

"I see."

And then, there was no more conversation between the two.

"...When?"

"Soon."

"Tomorrow." Arminius spoke firmly, with a strength that surprised Riekin. "I wish the people of this town to see the future of the boy whom they've alienated and scorned."

"...As you wish, so shall it be."

And so, that evening, Riekin and the others convened calmly in the center of the town. Everyone was milling about; had been all day. The town was abuzz with talk of these mysterious strangers, and the rumors had it that Arminius was going to leave with them, forever. He was to join them, in some strange journey, and tonight before they left they would supposedly perform a magical ritual to bind Arminius with them.

And so, as darkness fell, the eight strangers and Arminius gathered in a square, where they'd assembled and lit a huge bonfire. Arminius stood in the center of these men as they formed a circle, with space left for a single man.

 "Time flows like a river," the one with white hair intoned in commanding voice. "Ceaseless in its flow, unchangeable... or so it seems.

 "Then there are those who are as rocks against that flow, withstanding the tests and pushes of time's flow.

"Eight we are, nine we shall be.

"For another, now, we shall stop the time. Around him it flows, unchanging and unyielding he shall remain."

They all rose their hands skyward.

"Welcome our brother into the fold," they called in firm voices, the hands of the white-haired one beginning to glow a vibrant white. "Let him stand as a rock in the river of time, let him never yield to the passage of time! Unchanging, unmoved he shall remain, and we shall be the strength that binds him!"

The leader formed that light into a small, brilliant orb, and handed it to Arminius.

"Accept this, and be as one."

Arminius caught the orb in his cupped hands, and held it to his heart for a moment.

"I accept this, and am now as one."

"The circle of nine is now complete. Nine is the symbol of balance and purity, a symbol of hope for humanity." The lead, Riekin, spoke firmly. "We are eternal, the nine of us! Eternally we shall stand, as angels and devils fall at our sides, we shall prevail!"

He took Arminius' hand, and the two stood before the fire, gazing into it for a few long moments.

"Enter the flames, and leave them reborn."

Arminius took a single deep breath, and leapt into those flames, and those who'd gathered around the square uttered a cry of fear and surprise.

But those flames didn't touch him, nor did they even singe the hem of his cloak. Arminius emerged once more, unscathed, eyes shining with pride...

And to his eyes, and the eyes of his companions, ablaze in their same white aura.

 "I am Arminius Corelsti!" he called out proudly, his features alive and alight for the first time in two years. "I am the First Spirit Hunter, and First of the Seers!

"I am the Visionary!

"I am the Balance!

"And I am a Symbol of Hope to Humanity!"


Epilogue - Three Centuries Later...

He gazed silently at the others, from his vantage point at Riekin's right hand, as the treatises were signed by the Humanitarian Council of the Citadel. These treatises granted the new class, the Hunter Class, sovereignty over the lands that were forever to be known as the Shuurai Continent.

He moved slowly as he heard Riekin take up a feathered quill, and did the same as he listened to Riekin's flowing signature be added just under the heading decreeing that the hunters had indeed followed all protocols in this venture, and that they now existed as a separate entity from the continent of Torah, and were autonomous from the government of the Citadel.

The first of the papers was passed to him, and he waited a moment, hesitating...

"Lord Master Corelsti, may I assist you?"

"Thank you, Sir Ataragon." Arminius smiled as one of his Knights, another Seer, a proud spirit hunter, guided his hand to the place he should sign. "It pleases me that my own dear ones are gifted with sight and assist me so readily."

And so he added his signatures to the documents that would change history forever. A document that would eventually lead to wars and strife, yes, but that would also lead to the construction of the most peaceful and glorious empire that had ever existed.

He could, afterall, foresee it.