The Riders and the Choice
From FFa2Wiki
The Hermit walked the World. He sang soothing songs to the scarred flesh, and the world knew peace. The sky wept tears once more, and the skin of the World closed, but it would not heal. Nothing lived upon the World, and the Hermit felt sorrow for the loss of so many.
His compassion drew the One from her hiding place, and she approached him. Her eyes were the night sky, stars dancing within them, and her skin was the pale of the moon. “You came,” she said in a voice filled with grief. “What will you do?”
The Hermit turned to the One. “The World is dead. I shall bury her, and move on.”
“And what of me?” she asked. “I do not wish to be alone.”
The Hermit watched her. “You may walk with me.”
There was the sound of hooves, and the Four arrived. The first carried a sword, the second a staff, the third a scythe, and the fourth nothing. Mana knew fear, but the Hermit stepped forward to protect her. The rider who was Death spoke, and his voice was terrible. “You have called, Judgement. This World cries out for an ending. Have you determined its fate?”
The Hermit watched the Riders. “I have chosen,” he said. “This World is dead, and it is time for a new World to rise from its ashes.” The Riders turned from the Hermit, and they rode. They killed the World, but by their hand it was merciful. The World died, and then there was Nothing. The Riders returned to the Hermit, and with them was the life of all that had died, and the souls of all that had lived.
“The World is dead. There is Nothing left. What shall you do now?”
The Hermit walked. He saw that there was Nothing, and he saw the Riders. His past weighed on him heavily, and he wept. “Eternity alone has left me empty. I wish to create.”
Death replied, “We reap the Worlds you Judge. We do not create. We are no longer needed.” And the Riders departed.
The Hermit walked in Nothing, with Mana at his side. He mourned for the lost and the dead, and he asked her, “Will you come with me, and walk where I walk?”
But Mana could not. “This is my home. There is Nothing left for me, but it is still mine. The souls of the lost sing to me, and I must soothe them.”
The Hermit knew despair. “I am damned, that I must always destroy. I am not whole. If I could, I would create a new World for you, so that the souls would sing in joy, not in sorrow, and bring life here once more.” Mana saw the pain within the Hermit, and wept with him.
And Sanguine, the Godslayer, who knew no pity, felt their sorrow and wept with them. “I know how to create,” she said. “I drink the blood of Gods, and I learn their Secrets. I will share this with you, so that you may create. But I ask something in return.”
The Hermit looked upon Nothing, and in His mind He saw Mana, alone for eternity. He knew that he could not abandon her to such a fate. He took up his sword, and spoke with her, and she shared her secrets with him. When he heard her words, he knew hope. “Together, we will create the Second World.” So saying, he drove the Godslayer into his heart.
