An Asnean Odyssey: Bastien

Ten

- “I don’t know where to find happiness...”

“Am I dead?”

“No.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re here with me, in the Aether.”

“Who are you?”

“I don’t really have a name any more, not one that I remember. It’s been so long since I’ve seen another person, I had almost forgotten how to speak.”

“What can I call you?”

“Splinter will do just fine, I think.”

Bastien opened his eyes. He was lying on his back beneath an enormous oak tree. The sky was bright blue and he could hear birds whistling. He sat up, looking at the world around him. The horizon was flat and seemed to stretch on forever in every direction. The grass was gently waving in the wind.

“What is this place?”

“I told you already, we’re in the Aether,” Splinter’s voice was gentle and kind. He looked to be about fifty and had frazzled white hair. An eerie crudely carved wooden eyeball sat inside his right eye socket. His other eye was a deep chestnut color. He was wearing a torn black shirt and brown cloth pants with no shoes. The soles of his feet were caked in dirt. “You can think of it like a dream, if that helps you.”

“Why am I here?”

“You’re here because I want to ask you some questions.”

“Every question I answer, I want you to answer something for me,” Bastien tried to negotiate.

“That sounds fair. I’ll go first, since you asked me about the Aether,” Splinter slowly sat down against the tree. Bastien could hear his bones creaking. “Why do you think Randgris attacked you?”

“How do you know about Randgris?”

“Slow down, Bastien,” Splinter laughed gently. “Answer my question first.”

“I think Leinhardt told her to. I think he lied to her and she couldn’t see past her blind devotion,” Bastien answered as quickly as he could. Tears were forming in his eyes and his voice was becoming weak.

“I am the stone. I am the observer. I see all, I know all, yet I cannot act upon this knowledge,” Splinter traced his finger along the skyline. Bastien looked down at his hands. He had all of his fingers. “What do you intend to do about that?”

“I’m going to kill Leinhardt. What happened to your eye?”

“Someone stole it. Do you think you’re strong enough to kill him?”

“No...” Bastien hesitantly answered. Splinter carefully rose to his feet using the tree as leverage.

“Witness my power,” Splinter snapped his fingers. Everything around them dissipated into nothingness. They were standing in a void.

“Who are you...?”

“I am the ultimate being. I can have anything I desire, but none of it is real,” Splinter’s lips curved ever so slightly at the edges. “I don’t even know if I’m real. I could just be a vivid hallucination, something your brain conjured up the moment before your death.”

“So... I am dead?”

“Not yet.”

“Can you restore my memories?”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Bastien. I can bestow upon you a fraction of my powers to assist you. Will you accept them?”

“Why would you do that for me?”

Splinter wagged his finger casually in front of Bastien’s face. “You can’t have both. You need to pick one. Your memories, or limitless power?”

Bastien hesitated for a moment, but responded with utmost certainty. “I want to kill Leinhardt.”

Splinter grew a salacious grin as he placed his hand upon Bastien’s head. His hand began to glow as Bastien felt a sharp pain in his brain, followed by a vicious burning. Splinter removed his hand and beckoned for Bastien to stand up. “Rise. I’ve given you control over the elements. It will come to you as naturally as breathing. I have one final gift for you.”

Bastien clamored to his feet, his head still pounding. Splinter reached out to embrace Bastien, who did not resist. Bastien cried out in pain as Splinter sunk his teeth deep into Bastien’s neck. As he felt his very essence being drained from his body, he could see Splinter’s hair begin to fall out and his skin shrivel and rot, peeling away from the fetid bones. Bastien’s heart began to slow until it eventually stopped beating and the darkness devoured him.

Bastien’s eyes shot open. His head was throbbing as he took in his surroundings. It felt as though his skull had been split open. He was lying on his back in a well-lit cave that had been carved into a square room. He could see the sky out of a window towards the front of the cave. The entrance itself had been filled in, then cut to the shape of a rectangular door. The bed upon which he was laying was little more than a slab of stone with a pillow and a rough blanket that scratched at his skin. On a small table beside his bed were some folded clothes. A woman sat in a wooden chair next to him, watching him carefully. She wore a plain yellow dress and her auburn hair was arranged atop her head in a neat bun. Bastien raised his arms and looked at his hands. His entire left arm was a twisted mess of a black metallic material that intertwined with itself until it reached his wrist, at which point it flattened into a palm and split into sharpened fingers. The thumb and index finger on his right hand were of the same material. His golden ring sparkled on his synthetic finger.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why am I still alive?” Bastien stared blankly at the ceiling. The woman smiled gently before responding.

“You’re not allowed to die, Bastien.”

Bastien punched the wall beside him with his new arm, creating an unexpectedly large indentation. “I don’t accept that answer.”

“It doesn’t matter if you accept it or not.”

“What if I refuse to live?! What if I tear out what remains of my heart and throw it in a volcano?! What then?!”

“You would wake up right here, in this room, with me at your side,” the woman calmly explained. “Do you like your new limb? Ciel made it specifically for you. It’s a very good catalyst.”

Bastien remained silent. He sat up and reached for the clothes on the table. The shirt was white with long sleeves and a black vest to go with it. The pants were black. He dressed and sat back on the makeshift bed. Bastien decided to try out his new powers. He snapped his fingers and small sparks showered the floor.

“Not very impressive.”

“It is for someone who’s not trying.”

“What now?”

“Do what you wish. I retrieved Sverker for you, but I cannot fix him,” the woman gestured to the sword behind her.

“Why not?”

“I have no powers. I’m but a humble disciple of Gaius. If you wish to fix Sverker, you’ll need to see Ignis.”

“I won’t need any dragonite?”

“Ignis is the most powerful of all the dragons. Worldly materials mean nothing to him.”

“I should have just seen him in the first place. What a waste of time,” Bastien rose to leave, but the woman stopped him.

“You should replenish your strength before you go,” she closed the distance between herself and Bastien, baring her neck. “This is my purpose.”

Bastien gazed at the woman’s exposed neck, her bluish veins highlighted beneath her soft, tanned skin. He could feel his head throbbing as he embraced his overwhelming desire. The woman released a soft moan as Bastien tore into her neck. Spitting a chunk of her flesh onto the ground, he let her blood pour into his mouth. It tasted sweeter than anything he could have ever imagined. His body felt like it was brimming with energy. He wiped the blood from his mouth and tossed the woman’s desiccated corpse to the floor. He picked up Sverker and fastened him to his waste as he turned to leave.

The overcast sky was gray and cast a dismal aura over the land. Bastien was standing about half way up a rather large hill. A small staircase had been carved to allow access to the mouth of the cave. He could see Asnea in the far distance and a small village just at the bottom of the hill. He decided to gather information there. He flexed and stretched his prosthetic arm as he made his way down the stairs, testing out the range of movement and flexibility that it allowed. When he entered the village, he approached the first person he saw and grabbed them by the throat with his arm. He squeezed gently at first, adding more and more pressure. Eventually, he sliced through the man’s neck causing his head to tumble to the ground. An enormous grin sprouted on Bastien’s face as he took a sip of the blood that was pouring from the man’s neck. He decided to test out his abilities once more, focusing his mind on destroying the structures around him. A large ball of molten liquid formed in his prosthetic hand, which he hurled at the closest building. The ball smashed through the wall and the building erupted into flames. Screams echoed through the night as Bastien demolished everything in sight. When he came to the last person, he picked them up by the throat and looked them in the eyes.

“Could you give me directions to Mt. Violens?” Bastien asked politely. The woman didn’t respond. Bastien grabbed her left arm and began to pull until it snapped off, spewing blood onto Bastien. He used his arm to cauterize her wound, then asked again. The woman pointed silently with her remaining arm. Bastien looked in that direction and saw a mountain in the distance. “Ah, thank you. I think your reward for helping me will be your life.”

Bastien removed the woman’s remaining limbs and cauterized them, then propped her up against a decimated building. He laughed to himself and departed for the mountain, leaving the smoldering remains of the village behind him.

It took a few days with Bastien traveling through the night to reach Mt. Violens. The mountain itself was enormous and stretched high above the clouds. Bastien could feel the temperature steadily increasing as he approached the entrance to the mountain. It was little more than a large hole punched into the rock, through which he could see straight into the heart of the volcano. There was, however, an obstacle between him and his goal. A hulking beast meandered out of the mouth of the mountain.

“Bastien! I’m not going to let you get away this time!”

“Have you not learned your lesson, Ari?”

The remaining Philosophers stopped between Bastien and the cave. Aristotle’s mane was caked in blood on one side. Where Plato’s head once was, a clockwork replica now sat. It appeared to be for aesthetic purposes more than anything else.

“You k-killed me-” Aristotle stuttered, then corrected himself. “You killed him! I can’t let you walk away from this!”

“That’s a nice replica,” Bastien commented pointing to the clockwork Plato. “Bet it’s not as good as the original, though. Did you make it?”

“Our master, Ignis, gave it to us,” Aristotle replied. “He felt pity that I was ki- That you killed Plato.”

“Ari, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Socrates chimed in.

“Listen to the goat.”

“No! You must pay for what you’ve done!”

“I beat you once. I’ll beat you again. You don’t even know the power I’ve gained, Ari.”

“You don’t have a weapon; how do you expect to kill me?”

“I’m not going to kill you and I don’t need a weapon,” Bastien explained as he approached the beast. Aristotle lunged at Bastien, who responded by wrapping his arms around the lion’s throat and slamming the beast’s heads into the ground behind him. He placed one foot on Ari’s head and began to pull on Socrates with all of his might. Socrates screamed and writhed in pain as his flesh was torn from the Philosopher’s body. There was a loud cracking noise, like a tree being felled, and Socrates cries stopped. Bastien finished removing the goat’s head and casually tossed it in front of Ari. The goat’s tongue sprawled out on the ground in front of it, its empty eyes looking directly at Ari’s.

“Look what you’ve done. That’s two now that have died because of you. But don’t worry, Aristotle. You’re safe,” Bastien dabbed his finger on his tongue to get a taste of the Philosopher’s blood. It was foul and he spit it out immediately. “If I can’t die, why should I give you that pleasure?”

Bastien turned and entered the volcano, leaving Aristotle behind in a pool of his own blood. It was a straight shot to the center of the volcano, where there was a large pool of lava surrounding a flat platform with enough room for two or three people to stand. The ceiling seemed to go on forever. Bastien stood at the edge of the platform and called out to the dragon.

“Ignis! Show yourself!”

The earth rumbled as a gargantuan form rose from the lava. Magma poured from the cracks and crevices between its thick, porous scales, which were a bright red hue with a yellow tinge at the edges. The dragon rose to the top of the mountain and was still slouched over. His wings, which were gathered tightly on his back, were covered in black stone. His eyes were pure white, with a small black outline around the iris and a deep circular slash around the middle. Two jagged crags protruded from atop his misshapen skull, scraping the tops of the cave. His neck was about a third of his body length. His lower half was still submerged in lava, but his torso, like his wings, had portions caked in obsidian rock. Ignis lowered his massive head to meet Bastien’s insignificant body. Bastien was no taller than a single of his molten teeth. His breath reeked of sulfur when he exhaled.

“Who are you to command me?” Ignis’ mouth didn’t move. His voice rolled through Bastien’s head like a tidal wave. When the dragon looked at him, it was as though he was looking through his very being. Every instance and every possible reality that he could have existed.

“Bastien, your champion.”

“You are not my champion.”

“Right,” Bastien tossed Sverker to the ground. “I could have easily refused your gift. Now fix my sword so I can put it to good use.”

“You think I created you?” Ignis’ voice bellowed. “Or perhaps you think we work together. Your existence is amusing to me at best.”

“Right, right,” Bastien casually responded. “And you can crush me with a single finger? Are you going to fix it or do I need to demonstrate my power to you?”

“You are an insolent fool,” Ignis’ voice echoed as he took a deep breath and unleashed a jet of magma from his gaping maw. Bastien shielded himself with his arms as Sverker was doused in radiant flames. When he lowered his arms, Ignis’ neck was descending back into the volcano. Sverker was lying on the ground in front of him, and although he was in his sheathe, his luster shone like a lone star in the midnight sky.

“A blessing can easily become a curse.”