A Sense of Purpose [Waltz]

The stranger was revealed to be nothing more than a mage. Though bearing a vague similarity to some of his home, Garland recognized as he looked upon this creature, a very simple, yet honest truth. This was not a Warrior of Light. In fact by the very sight of this menacing enigma, did its wicked eyes dash away the very thought of a possibility. As it would speak, inquiring simply from where did Garland call home, there was far more spoken to the dark knight as he met the impenetrable gaze of the Waltz. There was no sense of a man alive beneath that pointed hat, but a savage creation of desire itself. No mage that had been truly remembered in Cornelia were known to possess wings for that matter. It still stood to question whether this mage came from this world, or another. It mattered little, as Garland suspected this creature held no bonds to tie it to either.

It was a simple enough of a request however, one he would gladly oblige.

”I am from the oldest of worlds.”

He would offer the truth, nothing more.

To a man with such a fate as Garland, he would welcome an invitation to more chaos, as it would only hasten the revival to the inevitable. The man looked upon the machine with pittance, to have never seen the many cycles of destruction, conflict, and seemingly unending war. Garland never suspected that this creature, whatever it was, had known any sort of love. A love for discord, or a love for another. Before Garland’s eyes as they left the Waltz, he saw only darkness given form, as he turned away from the mage without fear. A flourish of the lavender hued cape, and the dark knight would present the Waltz all the opportunity to strike him down. It was a mistake that Garland held with all certainty, would be the last this mage would make.

Instead, therein lied a curiosity to the nature of its presence here. Did it simply desire more than a new destination after completing its goals here, as Garland theorized? No, there was simply more to this than met the mere surface. Fate surely would have played another hand in the course Garland was to take. A new step within the new cycle, so he came to believe. So it was that Garland decided to entertain the creature’s presence a bit longer, to further sate this intrigue that began to prickle at the back of his mind.

”Do you desire discord? To sate your curiosity befitting whatever purpose you were given? To witness the very heart of it, as it unleashes chaos upon the lands?”

A moment of silence given, for the Waltz to ponder these words.

”For that is why you have come, is it not?”

The answer that followed, was possibly not the most favorable Garland would have taken, yet it was curious all the same. So the creature had sought this place out of meager coincidence? Nothing so bleak could be accepted in the eyes of the armored behemoth. Coincidence itself held no place in his world, in any time nor scene that would harbor the wayward vessel of Chaos. All things were connected in the eyes of the would be god. All roads eventually met at a crossroads, which would all traverse through harmony and discord along their paths. Such a thing was inevitable, as the inertia that drove the winged creature to this desolate plateau.

This very nature of things, it would seem, was what kept the winged enigma tethered to Garland’s words. Its questioning of the very essence of the purpose behind this chaos, would bring about a deep chuckle within the ironclad helm. No motions were made, save for the occasional whipping of the ends of his cape. Like a solid, immovable carving of the earth, Garland remained rooted to his spot. He too took into consider the very nature of these words, the very will of the fiery deity that still burned within his heart, that drove this machine of war with an unwavering resolve. What purpose did Garland’s chaos serve? It would suit the purposes of all things, all worlds, all hearts.

That was when the old cycles came to mind. Garland recalled the many times The Warrior and himself crossed swords, all in the name of a conflict, never-ending, to suit only the sating of a mythical beast that knew unending hunger. A desire to consume eternally, while those that birthed the fruits of their labors in the form of memories, would tirelessly fight, on and on, with no seeming conclusion in foreseeable sight. Garland considered the purpose of the war, the purpose it had served to strengthen the God he swore undying fealty to, and a hazed memory of another whom he agreed to assist in achieving these ideals made reality. He would look to this world, and all the others he had traversed to this moment in time. They were no different than that other realm, as they too would soon quake beneath the true power of strife. It was as inevitable as the thawing of a late winter’s expiring snow.

What purpose did discord serve? As much of a purpose that harmony would bestow upon all these lands, all these hearts, whom slept at night believing they knew peace eternal.

”No different a purpose than you doubtlessly serve. A will fueled by the fires of war, of destruction. The very same that draws all hearts to conflict, all worlds to an undying inevitability.”

Garland would then shift, so as to offer the Waltz another glimpse of those burning spheres within the demonic helm.

”The return of the God of Discord himself.”

What was required?

Garland took a moment to think back upon his journey thus far. Almost immediately the clash of swords echoed throughout the memories, each of which involved a certain Warrior, in one way or another. The dark knight considered their last fight, and the desolate sands that had played host to their last bout. To say the least, the keys which littered that desert were curious items. At a point in time Garland theorized they were all wielded by powerful warriors, possibly even as formidable as the unrelenting Zest. The land upon which they fought was doubtlessly a graveyard. An inevitable change from the heat of a battle within the grandest of scales. As desolate as it had been, it held a beauty to Garland’s eye; a lone soul whom saw how truly marvelous the power it embodied really was.

The wielders of the abandoned weapons in that desert, were sure to have some who survived their unfortunate comrades. Descendants, those whom would carry on the legacy of their fallen predecessors. It of course, had been a custom in Cornelia for countless centuries, which was in fact, what spurred on this internal hypothesizing. Garland once more considered the question of the mage, and what was truly needed, not just from the Waltz, rather from all souls whom submitted to their destructive desires. The answer would come to the air, with an ironclad resonance.

”To stoke the embers of this impending war.”

The scent of conflict lingered upon the air. Garland would be a fool to mistake something so familiar, having stood among its sweet aroma a thousandfold.

The pair stood within the eye of a hurricane, knowing momentary peace before the wrath of the storm would consume them with all its fury. Garland welcomed the plunge, having spent too long in knowing the the next fight after the next, only to find momentary gleams of thrill and glory. Therein would exist the beauty of this inevitable pull, this drive, this inertia desire, the existence of every moment until the end would remain beyond his sight. Only the return of Chaos was assured, for Garland believed he could not still exist were it not for the birth of another cycle. The dark knight would raise his sights from the Waltz to the starry sky, to where he believed, that other world waited in earnest for his own return.

”Among these stars is a world of a thousand weapons, keys- long abandoned by their master’s expired hands.”

Garland will have raised a gauntlet at this notion, looking down to his own freed hand, before he would turn to regard the Waltz once more. There was no mistaking that his journey to that fated world, was a premonition of sorts. Fate’s means of delivering a vision unto its prisoners, its champions. Fighting among those dead weapons had only served to sate Garland’s curiosity to their power ever more. He desired to see the strength of such creations, eager to witness what awesome force had instilled true harmony into that world, through an instrument of an ultimate discord. The knowledge would serve Chaos, himself, and no one else. Before the air of war had expired among the worlds, Garland would see this made truth.

”The God’s return shall require the assistance of such a master.”

Power.

What else was to be offered unto this mage, other than his mere word alone? A simple promise of power would not be enough to seize this new piece for Chaos’ side of the board. A taste of it however, may prove to the Waltz enough that a place within the ranks of his future self’s forces, was not something to idly pass up, or considered taken lightly. The soul of the god within would show this creation of desire what devastating power it could wield. What awesome force it could awaken, by merely doing for what it was meant to exist. To birth discord, and destruction about the worlds. To become the culling, that would usher in the next reign of the rightful ruler to these broken worlds…these broken hearts.

A future that Garland would welcome heartily.

Beneath the façade of the demon, misty blue eyes twinkled upon witness to the sparks that surrounded the mage in his moment of glee. The confidence of Garland in the effect of his words, would prove enough to let a small tug play at the corners of his scarred lips. A fleeting moment of mortality none would bear witness to. The words of the mage would prompt a sudden lift of the greatsword; a deep ”Hmph!” made as the weapon was thrust into the ground, causing the ground to quake and splinter, as the very fabric of the air split apart by blackened flame. The very soul of Chaos bending the darkness to its will before the dark knight’s very eyes. From this temporal rift, floated skyward a powerful purple glow; the center dominated by a single onyx shard. ”Behold.” The rift would expire, as the crystalline stone drifted to hover just above Garland’s palm, before he would let it carry on the air to the Black Waltz.

”A shard of the true Dark Crystal.”

Garland would take a moment to let this significance sink in.

”Within holds the power to sew the seeds of strife, to set ablaze the stirrings of war within hearts worlds over. Like every foe and world that will be consumed by these desires, so too shall this gem sate its hunger from the chaos of the conflicts you are to create during your search. When that hunger is sated, it shall heed the beckoning of the master stone. Where you will find me.”

The dark knight would seize the hilt of the greatsword once more, and forcibly remove it from the earth. The first boon of Chaos had been offered, now all that remained was for the mage to reach out, and seize hold of destiny.