Under a dark sky with hardly any stars, Raia stands on a gabled roof of one of the half-timbered houses lining the street. She's garbed in a black hooded cloak. Her pale grey eyes glow silver in the darkness, and she holds a half-eaten apple in one hand.
She's no more than a silhouette in the pale moonlight except for the silver necklace glinting around her neck. Her eyes are fixated on two young men running along a quiet street. One of them is wearing a long black coat, a sword clenched in one hand. The other man has a muscular figure clad in a dirty brown trench coat, speeding away from the swordsman.
Raia takes a bite of the apple without looking away from them. The wind blows cold, her black cloak thrashing and flapping behind her, but she remains still.
The burly man spins around on the street below, releasing a spherical light. As the swordsman swings his sword, the light disintegrates into particles. He launches himself forward in an arcing leap and lands ahead of his opponent on the ground.
Before the swordsman can react, his opponent delivers a powerful kick, sending him sprawling across the ground. The muscular man raises his hand and releases another ball of light.
The swordsman jumps forward from his feet, sword raised in both hands. Before delivering a critical blow to the burly man, Raia loses interest and turns around. A female voice echoes from a distance as she takes the last bite of her apple.
Her brows furrow together and she murmurs to herself, "What the hell is she doing outside this late at night?"
Raia leaps up, hopping from roof to roof until she reaches the second street and settles on the ridge of a roof, a surly expression on her face. She darts her gaze around, trying to find the source of that voice. That's when she notices her, a lone girl strolling down the street.
The girl wears a casual green dress and looks about the same age as Raia. She keeps turning her head, indicating that she is looking for something . . . or someone.
Then something catches Raia's eyes.
In a narrow alleyway between two houses, a man's silhouette can be seen hiding. Half of his head is visible, staring at the lone girl. Raia knows he's probably waiting for her to get closer, which can only mean one thing.
An Outcast.
Raia frowns and bends her knees, her fist closed around the silver cross pendant dangling from the ends of the chain around her neck.
"Answer my call, Raphael," she whispers, and the silver necklace transmogrifies into a longsword with fiery glory that lights up the night surrounding her.
At the same time, the man emerges from his hiding place. The girl freezes on the spot and yelps in surprise.
Raia leaps from the roof, her cloak fluttering around her as she lands on the ground.
"No one deserves to be happy. If I am in misery, you must join me," the man says, his voice is as cold and dark as the night.
"Run!" Raia yells as she advances, but the girl only gives her a puzzled look while remaining rooted to the ground.
"W-what? But, papa . . ." When she sees the hooded girl's flaming longsword, the girl's eyes dilate with horror.
Raia swings her sword vertically at the man, but he leaps backward before the flaming blade touches his skin.
"I said run!"
Still flustered, the girl scampers back in the direction she came from like a frightened puppy, not knowing that she will encounter an injured swordsman.
Raia launches a thrust attack, causing her opponent to back up.
"A blessed soul," the man says dryly, his gaze fixed on Raia- on the flaming soul flickering inside her chest.
As an Elysian, Raia's soul is blessed and it has the appearance of a flame, which is only visible to an Outcast's eyes.
The man hurls himself upward and lands on a house with a pitched roof.
Raia's frown deepens. He has fast reflexes and he seems to be aware of what I am. This one must only be possessed. As she looks up at him, her eyes narrow to a slit.
A light flickers out of the man's palm as he stretches his hand below. It expands into a round shape before he releases it, shooting toward Raia like a bullet.
Raia wields her flaming sword, slicing the spherical light into particles. Light specks float through the air before dissipating. She bends slightly forward and leaps into the air, her cloak flapping like a pair of wings in the cold wind. She swings her sword down as soon as she lands on the slanted roof. The man jumps.
Frustration washes over her as the man flees, roof hopping away from her in the direction the girl had gone. She lowers herself into a crouch, sword clenched in one hand, and leaps forward.
Raia slows her momentum as she lands on a roof behind the man, not wanting to make any noise for the sake of anyone sleeping beneath her feet. She tightens the grip around the hilt of her sword in both hands as she lifts it over her head and swings it hard downward.
The flaming blade passes through the man's body like a ghost object. Even though there's no damage to the physical body, he still screams in excruciating pain and falls from the roof. But before his body hits the hard surface, thick vines sprout from the ground, ensuring the body with a safe landing.
Raia saunters to the edge of the roof and stares. Vines?
Something dark, resembling a flame, escapes the man's body and floats in the air.
A lost spirit.
Raia closes her eyes and holds the blade in front of her face.
"Raphael, pour thyself with Absideon and destroy the darkness thy blade touches. Purify the tainted soul and deliver it to Elysium," she whispers in a form of a prayer, and the bright orange flame around the blade of her sword turns purple.
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Her eyes flash open, and she leaps from the roof, heading down to the lost spirit. The hood falls off her head, revealing long wavy dark purple hair that flutters in the breeze. She raises her sword and thrusts the blade into the lost spirit.
"Raphael, now! Flame of purification!" she bellows, her deep voice reverberating throughout the space.
The purple flame that surrounds her sword spreads out and swallows the lost spirit, cleansing it of the darkness that has enshrouded it.
Raia lands on her feet gently, cloak rustling, and stares at the soul oozing with brilliant light like a white flame--a purified soul.
"You may now rest in peace," she whispers, and the white soul disappears into thin air.
"Papa!" someone yells, and the girl from before comes rushing at the unconscious man lying on the vines. "Papa. . .?"
"He's fine," Raia states, and the girl smiles at her.
"I know, he told me."
Raia's face is flushed with bemusement as she wonders who the girl is referring to. The girl then falls to her knees and sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. She buries her face in the man's chest. Raia's face is expressionless as she watches her weep.
"I'm sorry," the girl croaks.
Both the girl and the man would have died if it hadn't been for Raia. What is the girl doing at this hour? Raia arches an eyebrow as her gaze shifts to the unconscious man, whom the girl refers to as "Papa."
I guess she was looking for this man, Raia thinks. Fortunately, the man's reflexes indicated that he was only possessed, so he hadn't tainted too many innocents. Humans always let emotions get the best of them, unaware that they are welcoming something even more dreadful.
Emotions, if not handled well, can be someone's worst enemy.
The girl wipes her eyes free of tears and looks at Raia, her gaze fixed on the flaming longsword in her hand.
"That thing didn't really do anything to him?" she asks, her glossy eyes meeting Raia's pale ones.
"What? It did something," Raia responds, her deep voice matching her solemn expression.
The girl's eyes widen in alarm, but Raia's facial expression remains unchanged. Instead, she clutches the purple hilt of her sword and runs her gaze over it. The blade is made of pure silver with violet edges, and the crossguard has a silver cross emblazoned in the center.
"It's my Blessing, Raphael, " Raia speaks in a low voice, referring to her sword. "It's a sword blessed by angels to fight beings from the Abyss. A divine weapon yielded by disciples. It won't harm a human being."
The girl nods but says nothing else. A yawn from somewhere breaks the momentary silence, followed by the gentle treads of boots.
Raia looks over her shoulder as a young man emerges from a dark corner. He's clad in a long black coat with purple trim, dark pants, and dark leather boots. A cross shield badge adorns one side of his chest and gleams as he limps toward her.
He is dressed in the uniform of the Nirvana Order, an organization Raia is looking for and the reason she came to this land.
Raia furrows her brows as she realizes he is the swordsman from before. His presence had already piqued her interest after she saw him summon his Blessing, indicating that he is one of those people she is looking for. Now that she can see him up close, she's a little surprised. With his shining blond hair and golden eyes framed by long black eyelashes, he appears rather regal. He is tall and slender, which only accentuates his noble countenance.
"Those vines came from you," Raia says in a faintly accented voice, a grim expression on her face. Her sword vanishes from her grasp, and the silver cross necklace around her neck reappears, winking in the dark.
The young man shrugs, a friendly smile on his face. "Yep. And you finished that one, eh? What a tough girl."
Raia frowns at his casual demeanor.
"So . . . what's your name?" he asks, but Raia only narrows her eyes at him.
"You're hurt," Raia says flatly, peering through the hole in his pants at the shallow scrape on his knee. She recalls how the burly man landed a powerful kick in his stomach.
A bit careless, this one. It's better to treat him than to travel with someone who is injured. He might only end up being a burden.
"Sit and let me heal you," Raia utters in a quiet voice.
He blinks and tilts his head, and the silver cross earring on his right ear sways against his jaw. "Heal? What do you mean?" Then he gives a dismissive wave of his hand. "Anyway, I'm fine. I just hurt my knee while chasing an Outcast down the first street."
"No, he's not fine," the girl responds. "While we were watching you, he was wincing in pain."
Raia maintains a straight face as she shoots her foot behind him and trips him.
The young man lets out a wince as he slumps to the ground. Raia kneels before him and gently places her palm on his bleeding knee before he can say anything.
A warm glow of light pours out from her palm, and the guy stares at it in a dumbfounded expression. The wound on his knee seals up as the warm energy coming from Raia regenerates his broken skin.
"You can really heal?" he asks in sheer amazement.
Raia remains silent and heals him with one hand clenched on the ground. She rises to her feet and smooths her cloak once she's finished.
The young man blinks as he stares at his once-bleeding leg through the hole in his dark pants. He then pulls himself up, a bright smile on his pretty face.
"Damn, you really can heal," he blurts, eyebrows raised. "What branch are you from? Judging from your accent, you're clearly from the south. So I guess. . . Uriel?"
"No one," Raia answers in an abrupt tone of voice. "I came here to be an Aragon."
"Oh? Not an official disciple yet? So you just finished your apprenticeship? Congrats!" He extends a hand to her. "I'm Raiden Oliver Kara, by the way. And you are?"
"Raia."
"Raia? Just Raia? What about your surname?"
Raia's mouth twitches in annoyance. "Raia Allen, with no surname."
"I see. Anyways, we can't wait to have you in the Order. So who's your master?"
"You ask too much," Raia snaps, giving him a frosty look.
Raiden scratches the nape of his neck and smiles sheepishly.
"How is papa doing? Is he really all right?" the girl says, seizing their attention. She looks up at them, her eyes welling up with tears. "Why is he not waking up? I thought he was already fine?"
Raiden approaches the girl and places a gentle hand on her back. "He will in a day or two. And don't worry, he's all right now. At least, physically." His brows furrow just a tad.
The girl frowns in utter confusion, but her eyes sparkle with alarm. "What do you mean?"
Raia steps closer to them, still wearing her grim expression. "If you aren't aware yet, that man was possessed by a lost spirit."
Horror crosses the girl's features. "My papa was . . . possessed? Was that why my papa behaved oddly? I thought he was only drunk!"
Raia narrows her eyes. Drunk? Of course, the girl hasn't seen everything. She hasn't seen the man's strength, which is beyond human comprehension. After all, a lost spirit possesses a supernatural ability that they can only use once they obtain a vessel.
"He was," Raiden says, and the girl's gaze shifts to him. Her expression suggests that as she listens to them, her thoughts become more and more jumbled. "Your father must be going through something."
The girl's eyes widen. She lowers her head and hunches her shoulders as she opens and then closes her mouth. "Are you suggesting that my papa is... sad?"
Raiden averts his eyes. "More than . . . sad."
The girl bites her bottom lip. Her shoulders tremble as hot tears stream down her cheeks. "My papa has always worked so hard for me, but here I am, a worthless daughter who can't even help the family. He's the one who has always taken a risk just to raise the family since mama . . ."
Raia looks at the girl with a calm, almost impassive expression. She's more perplexed by the girl's emotional state. She is displeased with the girl's behavior for some reason. Negative emotions attract lost spirits. If the girl falls into despair, she will be possessed, and she will become yet another source of trouble.
"It's no one's fault," Raiden reassures the girl and pats her head gently. "If there's someone to blame, it's the Great Wizard. He wants the world to turn away from the Light." Then a soft smile spreads across his face. "That's why we exist, disciples who are called by the angels. Bringing an end to that scenario is our job."
A hushed silence falls over them, and Raia clasps her fist around the cross pendant dangling from the ends of her necklace. As her master's words ring in her mind, she grips it tightly and lifts her head, looking up at the dark sky.
"We exist to destroy the darkness that corrupts human souls."