Dargo

Chapter One-Hundred-Forty-Four: Echoes Of Regret - Part One

Quadrant: Farka Quadrant

Government: Gallec Empire

System: F-926

Planet: Gallec Prime

Location: Aurora continent, Vermillion Palace

***

A Year Ago

***

My mind's eye drifts through the cosmos, I feel the change is close, the formation of my soul beginning to change under the enlightenment of my thoughts. There are some lingering regrets that hold me back, at the back of my mind I see the faces of the young whom I led towards ill fates.

I feel something beginning to caress carefully the sorrow within me. A smile presses against my face as an old… friend comes to greet me. Their voice filling my mind.

You have done well in my absence, almost past the next boundary

"You took longer than expected to return." I say, raising an eyebrow.

There were complications, all is well now

I feel footsteps outside the room in the hall coming closer, the door bursts open moments later.

"Master Dargo. The Day Mother has returned," my apprentice says.

"I know, I speak with her now."

I can hear her pulse quicken as I say this. She will need to be more mindful of her emotions in the future, lest they betray her. She is not as adept at hiding her thoughts as I am.

"Does she speak of me?" she asks, her breath hanging on the words, hints of worry in her eyes.

I wave a hand dismissing her from the room, I can feel the disappointment coming from her, her spirit ripples with it. So much potential, yet her character still needs a firmer hand. I will have to guide her.

She has improved considerably

She seeks your approval

I see you still do not give it

"You know why I do not give it."

Even after a thousand years of penance

You still blame yourself for Amon's failure

It is not your fault, it never was

You trained him better than any could have dreamed

"I was his master, his teacher… his friend. It was my fault he failed, my fault that he now…" my mood sours as I think upon my failings, letting out a sigh, I move away from it.

Light begins to shine in front of me as my Goddess steps into my perception. She sits across from me now at a small table. The light recedes, giving birth to her figure, dark flowing hair dipped in blue at the ends just as I remember, an elegant robe hangs gently upon her body, swirling with light on the edges of the flawless design. Her eyes glowing bright blue like one of my favorite nebulas. On her face a curiously devious smile, one that tells me she has a request.

"Speak, my Goddess Leora. What would you have this poor old fool suffer to do?" I say raising an eyebrow to her, pouring myself a cup of tea. I pour one for her as well, even though she cannot drink it, as she is not truly here. I think she enjoys seeing me do it, even after all these years.

There is a stirring in the Well of Souls

My eyes roll as I sip from my tea, it is bitter, like the memories of the last time she said this.

"There is always a stirring in the Well of Souls. The dead do not sit idly by."

She leans against the table, putting her head in her hands, her smile growing larger.

There are whispers of a Spark Bearer

My ears do not even perk up at the notion as I sip from my tea again. She has probably been watching this so called spark for years. She thinks she is mysterious… she is not. I have heard this all before, if she were not my Goddess, I would tell her to leave with a smack to the head. Alas she is my Goddess, whether I want her to be or not, so I listen to her musings as she speaks for a time about this soul that the dead whisper about. The dead always whisper, they have little else to do.

"Goddess, you know I will not refuse you. Ask of me what you will." I say pouring another cup of tea for myself.

She smiles, baring her teeth.

How I have missed you Dargo

Letting out an audible sigh, I look up at her, waiting for the decree which will undoubtably lead to suffering.

***

Months Later

***

Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Government: Talum Merchant Federation

System: D-447

Planet: Ora

Location: Orarak City

The mission Leora sent me on was one that I did not want to do. Bullying the weak is not something my old master would have approved of. I still think about the boy who channeled Netherium. Eyes that did not bend to the crimson glow. A fierce yellow. So much potential. A shame that the Inquisitor wished a different fate for him. With instruction he… no, do not dwell. There are countless lives that come and go. While a Netheric user is extremely rare, they are not entirely unique. Often they fall to the corruption, no matter what training they receive… still, the potential he held.

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A waste of talent.

I have never liked the Federation's architecture, it is reminiscent of their predecessors. A foul people who cared more for greed than justice. A sentiment I think the Federation now suffers from as well. No matter. As I move from the shuttle onto the floating city of Orarak above the barren ice planet that once belonged to the Kuwathi a thousand years ago, I can't help but be swept in the memories of the last time I was here. So much has changed since then.

Amon used to speak fondly of it, I push the memories away now. They are best left where they lie. The city is unremarkable, home to millions of souls. I do not feel any among them that have even approached a boundary that would make me wary.

"Get your tickets to the Grand Hunt right here! It's only a couple months away!" a man says, his soul weak.

"These are double the regular price, what gives?" another man asks him. His soul weaker still.

"Supply and demand. You want it or not?" the first man says. His soul flickers with greed and happiness at getting one over on others. Some things never change it seems.

Sighing, I make my way towards the Colosseum entrance. There are some Talum Merchant Federation soldiers standing at the staff entrance which I feel leads under it. Deep and expansive. Some of the souls below are not weak. One in particular catches my attention. Potential brimming from it.

My mind focuses elsewhere. The first waves of the unfortunate are arriving. Among them I feel souls hardened by tribulations. Stronger than the weak that flood this city. Again the memories of the past try to surface, and again I push them down.

"Halt. State your business." A soldier says to me.

"I am here to be a Keeper for the Grand Hunt."

"Give us your credentials." Another says, their hand grips their plasma rifle like a baby grips the bottle.

Pulling from my pocket the silver and gold emblem of the Theocratic Imperium I present it to them.

"This should suffice." I say, putting it back after they view it briefly.

"One moment… Sentinal, Sir," the first says, he straightens up. Putting his hand to his communicator.

I hear the voice through his helmet as he explains to them about my arrival. There is silence that follows for a time when the voice of a woman appears. I glean her name from the interaction.

"The Warden will be here shortly to escort you. Apologies for the inconvenience, Sentinal."

Both of the soldiers bow to me now. I wave them up. Turning to admire the skies, looking beyond them at the twin stars that rest on the horizon. How many empires and republics have those stars seen I wonder.

Within a few minutes the soul that caught my attention begins to come closer.

"The Warden, your excellency." the first says, giving another bow.

"Sentinal, I am Warden Adona, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit to our humble system?" she asks. Her pulse is quick, wary.

There is nervousness in her spirit. Complex amounts of pain and hope swirl within her. There is potential here. If she could find a balance. Perhaps if there is time, I will give her some guidance, she has great potential. She must be nearing the middle of the fourth mortal bound. Within a few years with the right instruction, she may pass into the fifth. No small feat, especially considering the remoteness of this system.

"I came here to be a Keeper for the Grand Hunt." I say, her soul ripples with confusion and anticipation so I add, "Be at ease, just an old man seeking a way to pass the time."

"I, well of course you are welcome anywhere you deem fit your excellency."

"Splendid. Proceed," I say, motioning through the doors.

She nods, her pace is brisk as her breath falls unevenly. No balance in her. As I peer closer, I see scars upon her body, hidden by her clothes, felt by her soul. They tell me a story of suffering. I see her trying to discretely message the Governor on her holopad. It would be bothersome if he pried too much into my business. Others may find reason to look further.

"Adona," I say, stopping in the corridor before she can send it.

She tenses. Her face does not show it however, she is adept at hiding her true emotions, on the surface at least.

"I would greatly appreciate it if Governor Adonius didn't receive news of my arrival," I fold my arms gently in front of me, "You see, I am not here in a strictly official capacity."

"Understood," she says giving me a bow. Behind her back I feel her sending it anyway.

Letting out a sigh, I follow her through the winding halls of this white colored prison. The souls of the dead linger in great numbers here. A veritable breeding ground for the darkness that plagues this Realm.

***

Weeks Later

***

Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Government: Talum Merchant Federation

System: D-447

Planet: Ora

Location: Orarak City, Facility below the Colosseum, Floor 16

My eyes open slowly as silence falls upon the room. Looking amongst the hundreds of Kuwathi that stand before me, I see many a souls forged through turmoil. I jump down from the assembly hall's center pedestal. Now walking amongst them, peering into the fabric of their souls.

There is a strength here that is not present in most of the citizens of the galaxy. I would know the depth of their training, the extent of their resolve. My Goddess did not tell me which soul is rumored to carry the so called spark. She guided me to choose this grouping. I am curious if she is right, as I feel no spark here.

"I am Dargo, master of blades. I am your Keeper," I say moving to the center of the room again, "Most of you will have questions, perhaps questions about sponsors."

Questions that will not help them to survive. From what I have gleaned from the innerworkings of this systems version of the Grand Hunt, sponsors matter little for the first challenge. Better that I focus on honing them in the little time we have.

"Your questions are irrelevant, at least until you prove yourselves worthy of asking," I say, hoping to find the spark.

I do not feel it yet, but I do feel anger coming in waves from the souls of the warriors around me.

"Yes, you will need that anger. True ability lies between anger and calm."

Still, I do not feel this rumored spark she speaks of.

"All of you, all at once," I say raising my hands, daring them, "Those who have been marked will sit on the edge of the room. Training weapons are on the walls."

Some laugh, others watch me with caution. Those will surely do better.

"Or are you all afraid?" I taunt, a smile glides onto my face as the first begin to stir.

Seven of them come first, even with my power suppressed to be closer to theirs, they are like children swinging their fists in a tantrum. No grace in their movements, anger guides them foolishly into my strikes. Those that do not take the first hit as testament to their failings I strike again, harder each time with the sheath of my sword which I do not open. It has not seen the light in many years.

The numbers begin to increase that come for the chance to strike me, some among them showing promise. Others show undisciplined attempts at combat. So much room for improvement here. Still I have not seen the spark she spoke of. Why does it hide from me, usually I would have seen it by now.

A group of four that move as one come now, I sense that three are related by blood, their faces sharing similar traits. The fourth does not. They move well, their training seems to be more disciplined than most of the others.

Wait… I know that one. It's the one with the yellow eyes. But I don't feel a spark from him. In fact… there is nothing at all. Like he is… runeless. Not in the way that a spark bearer is runeless, but simply empty of everything. His soul… I can't even see it. I had not seen this before when he used Netherium. It clouded his soul's shape, as it always does. Perhaps that is why I didn't see it.

They erupt out at me in a furious coordinated assault, I dive between them, striking two on the back. Moving into the crowd, thinning the numbers swifter.

Still, I haven't felt the spark, perhaps she was mistaken. I feel something behind me, the same one with yellow eyes who moved as one with the group earlier. My foot kicks backwards to strike him, but it does not connect. Interesting, even this suppressed it should have hit him. I feel a grin coming to my face as I feel a prodigy taking their first steps in front of me.

The boy sees my interest and begins to move behind others to block my path, good battle instincts. I strike at him quickly, marking him so lightly he won't feel it, as I want to see the extent of his ability. I do not feel a spark from him, but I feel growth, his form evolving as he parries my strikes. A smile crests his face now too, he understands the beauty of the blade even at his age. A kindred spirit. I feel the one whose blade taught his before mine coming behind me. Another excellent fighter, using my distraction to his advantage.

I turn at the last moment and strike him in black, his form needs improving but the instincts are there. The man's soul ripples with anger as he feels the marking, a moment passes and calm washes over it, disciplined in the mind as well. One to watch. The boy who carries the same style of fighting as him now comes back, attempting the same move again.

"You've already tried that." I say, the end of my sheath touches the tips of his bangs, "Try something new."

The crowd of people I have marked have begun to whisper Ularak. An old Kuwathi word meaning Bringer of Death, not the first time I have been called this. I push back the sore memories before they flood in.

The boy makes an appearance again as I mark two more. Now it numbers only thirty left. Not all of them gifted, some now too timid to strike after seeing the failings of others, cautiously moving around the edges. The boy carries on him a plethora of weapons and tools. I let out a sigh, when I said to try something new, I didn't mean grab everything he could carry.

As the time passes there are three that remain, the boy among them. I grasp the spear of one sending the man flying into the other marking them both, turning to face the boy. I can't help but to grin at his grit.

"You are persistent." I say, suppressing my mind's eye, only seeing through the eyes of my flesh, putting one arm behind my back, trying to level the playing field for him, making it more interesting. He has made it this far; I would see his worth. Besides, with his sunken body, he does not look to be as capable as when I saw him last. I wonder what happened to him after I gave him to that foul souled man… something creeps at the back of my mind. Is it guilt? Because he reminds me of Amon perhaps. I swallow it back.

The boy seems angry by my handicap. Even with this, my experience alone dwarfs his chances of landing a blow. His face is unstable with anger, he is like her, my current apprentice, great potential, but lacking resolve to focus oneself.

"You mock me?" he asks, throwing a shield from the wall.

He throws all manner of things at me now, interestingly a knife comes behind one of the shields. Intelligent deceptions but not enough. I press him towards the pillar in the room, it is time to end this distraction. I still have not found the spark bearer my Goddess said would be in this grouping. The boy slides to his knees after throwing his spear in the air. I let out a shallow sigh as he has not seen that I struck him thrice in the chest before he slid. Holding out my hand now catching the spear.

Just as I am about to speak to him, time dilates as my body instinctually feels something coming towards my head. I catch it in my grasp, turning slowly to look at it. There is a cord tied around the knife, I look to the spear, he used it to distract me. I look at him now, wondering if he purposefully let me think I was leading him to the pillar.

"Among you a prodigy begins to grow roots. Whether it will fully sprout remains to be seen." I say, dropping the spear and pointing to his chest.

Limitless potential.

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