The Doom

Chapter 6: The Betrayal

As Mist's Nightmare staggered out of the Ruins, gore clung to its tattered cloth armor. The Immortal turned at the sound of the approaching footsteps and was shocked to see the monster that stood before her. Lifting the Mithra over his head, Mist's Nightmare hurled her into the brush. He could smell her fear, it made her all the more appetizing. There was a sharp whistle to the Shadow's right, as he turned to view it's source. Raka tossed her ax behind her, and removed the metal armor of her harness, leaving only the cloth that covered her chest.

"He knew this could happen...Guess that's why they picked me to watch you." The Mithra talked casually as the creature slowly approached her. She cracked her knuckles and assumed a defensive fighting stance, shifting her weight to her right leg, the furthest back one.

"C'mon Fox Boy, you may be a good sworrrdsman, but I bet you can't hold yourrr own in an unarrrmed fight." After another stagger Mist's Shadow charged it's next meal. Raka was surprised at his speed, it was almost like he was actually gliding toward her. The Nightmare extended its right hand to grab the Mithra, but Raka caught his wrist. With once fluid motion she grabbed his upper arm and using the creature's own momentum, threw him to the ground. A trickle of rain fell on his face as he violently met the dirt.

Landing with a heavy thud, the monster was stunned for a moment. Its breathing was deeper and heavier than before, as it leapt back to its feet and spun around, reaching for the Mithra again. She dodged this attempt and caught his right hand yet again. Moving to his side, she dug her left fist under his rib cage, then balancing on her left leg, sent her right heel into his back with a spin. Upon impact she released the nightmare as it plummeted to the ground again. She could see in the creature's red eyes that it was furious. Mist's Nightmare rampaged to his feet and swiped at the Mithra with blinding speed. She jumped back narrowly avoiding Mist's nails, which she just noticed, appeared to have grown. On her last hop back, the ground slid out from under her as the mud gave way. Staggering back and struggling to hold her balance she waved her arms and meowed frantically. The Nightmare took advantaged of her moment of weakness and quickly made its way behind her. Mist's Shadow now had one arm around her mid section, and one holding her chin in place, his teeth resting on her neck.

Mist waited patiently for her fear to set in. That would be the time her would finish her, as the Mithra realized there was no hope of escape. But if she struggled, he would clamp down as well. Raka didn't move, and thought as fast as she could. Gazing over at her wet armor of the ground she could barely make out her own reflection in the shoulder guard of the harness. Behind that appeared to be Mist's head....and behind him...

With no warning, the Mithra shifted her weight backwards. It didn't manage to move Mist more than a foot as the mud gave way beneath his feet, but that was plenty. Raka managed to body slam her captor between herself, and an old tree. The Nightmare's grip loosened for a second, and Raka gripped the arm that had been holding her chin, throwing the monster over her shoulder again. The Nightmare impacted the ground with a splash as the watery mud broke his fall. It was now pouring now, and the ground was becoming a soupy mix of mud, grass, and twigs. The mixture held the Nightmare firmly, as he struggled to rise again. Letting out a low laugh the Mithra rested her foot on his chest and pushed down, making the Monster sink into the mud.

"Almost had me...ah well, too bad Fox Boy." The shadow struggled as the brown water obscured his vision and entered his mouth and nose as he gasped for air.

Mist was cold. Everything was dark, and cold. He could feel a great weight holding him down. Was this what death was like? Suddenly he could feel himself rising, he was getting lighter and lighter.

Raka picked up the unconscious mage by his collar as clumps of mud rolled off him. She put her ear to his chest and listened. There was still a heart beat, he was still breathing. Now his gore soaked clothes were also caked with mud. Though she had to admit it was an improvement

"You failed the extra credit, but you passed the exam."



"My last night here for you
Same old songs, just once more
My last night here with you?
Maybe yes, maybe no
I kind of liked it your way
How you shyly placed your eyes on me
Oh, did you ever know?
That I had mine on you

Darling, so there you are
With that look on your face
As if you're never hurt
As if you're never down
Shall I be the one for you
Who pinches you softly but sure
If frown is shown then
I will know that you are no dreamer"

Mist hurt all over, but at least he was warm now. He slowly opened his eyes, he was back in a Mog house. Looking down he examined his current condition. Virtually naked aside from his boxers and several bandages, he tried to piece together what happened through his wooziness The Mage tried to get up and a sharp pain shot through his right shoulder. Clutching it, he realized it was wrapped up. That was right, he had been stabbed through it. The next thought pierced his mind with something even more painful than a hundred swords.

"Marin? Marin?!" The door creaked open and a wave of relief washed over Mist, which slowly faded as he saw who was behind it.

"Raka? Raka, where's Marin?!" The Mithra scratched her chin for a moment and thought.

"The Hume? With the Red Hair? Oh, she's Dead." That last word echoed in Mist's head. Dead. Dead. DEAD. He now could remember everything. Kaylee, Dyne, Alphonse, Rage, Marin, they were all dead. He had even killed the last with his own hands. He could feel himself go limp as burning sensation from the guilt engulfed his entire body.

"Before we got off the boat...Raka....she made me promise, Raka...Marin made me promise..." Mist tried to justify what he had done, why he had committed this crime against someone so important to him. After getting Mist under control she had went in and examined the ruins herself. If there was a Hell, she had walked through it. Blood and fragments of tissue clung to the walls in a gruesome fashion. She collected the badges off of all the bodies to return to her boss, as was her secondary mission. They had actually expected Mist to turn, but the headband had repressed much of his monstrous nature, as well as a large amount of his power.

When she had returned to Imperial Whitegate, she had been questioned by her employer. Angered that Mist had survived the experiment he ordered his immediate extermination. Attempting to convert the mercs along with other fighters had been a mistake. Their minds were weak and untrained, as were their bodies. Raka was somewhat surprised at this decision. She had expected Mist to simply be chosen as the next Immortal instead of Marin. She wished that this information had been available before hand, or she wouldn't have bothered to clean him up and bring him home.

He had offered to double Raka's pay, setting it at twenty million instead of the initial ten. All the way back to the room she had thought about all of the fancy restaurants she would eat at, where she would go to gamble until her funds ran out again. She had actually hoped to find Mist asleep. That way it would be a quick assassination, and she could wrap up his head and take it to her boss. Now that he was awake though, she didn't want to cause a commotion. If the average civilian found out about what was behind the curtains, it might be her head instead of his.

"You've had a rrrough day Fox, why don't you just rrrest up? Everything will be better tomorrow" She impatiently ran her finger over the handle of her ax, ready to finish her job and collect the reward. If she struck now there was no doubt in her mind he'd change again, and it would be a mess.

Mist ran his hands over his face as he sat up in bed, while his brain failed to accept what had just happened. The voices of the consumed monsters sang and sobbed in a chaotic melody.

"She made me promise Raka...I...I made that same promise about Hidden's hard...hard to keep these promises..." Raka clutched her fist as the mage continued to babble. At this rate he'd be up all night. A new plan entered her mind and she let out a sly smile, pleased with herself. Unless he felt a threat he probably wouldn't change....maybe she could just lick his wounds for awhile and get close enough to kill him with her bare hands. It would probably make less of a mess too.

She sat on the bed next to the mage and rubbed his head, as if to console him.

"You did what you had to do." Mist turned his head downward and his hair dropped over his eyes. The Mithra reached out and pulled the mage a little closer with no resistance. She put her left arm around his chest and neck, and continued to rub his head with her right. Now that she had him stabilized, she slowly ran her right hand to the left side of his face, resting it on his cheek.

"Raka?" She paused and waited for the mage's last words.

"Thank you." Her grip tightened slightly when she heard this.

"When we first met..back in Jeuno...I thought you just wanted something...just wanted to use me...but you saved me again...I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Well who says I don't have anotherrr little job for you?"

"Even if that's true...I'm still glad to know you..." It was hard for Mist to say this, but after today he realized his time was short, and if he didn't tell her, he'd regret it forever.

This was an unexpected, and inconvenient turn of events. If she broke his neck now, it would be because he allowed her to. Before she realized it, Mist had fallen asleep again, this time in her arms.


The Immortals parted at Imperial Whitegate as the Mithra approached. She tossed Mist's Bloody Wildcat badge on the table and crossed her arms.

"Alright, where's my money?" The Immortal let out a dry laugh and removed a quill pen from a bottle of ink and began to sketch some mathematics on a sheet of paper.

"Straight to business, suits me. Alright, 20,000,000 gil. The current going rate is 3,000 to a bronze piece..." The Mithra's face churned in disgust.

"What?! I don't want any of you people's funny-money! And that's the rrrate the idiots in the Auction House pay!" The Immortal continued his math out loud, ignoring the Mithra.

"That comes to 6,666 dropping the remainder,5 bronze equal one silver piece, so now we have 1,333 silver, again dropping the remainder. Or 666 myrthil, again dropping the remainder, and finally 133 gold pieces, no remainder." The Mithra growled in frustration as she was cheated out of her pay before her eyes. Most of the places even in the empire only took gil, this imperial currency was a joke.

"Fine. Give me my gold and I'll leave."

"Not so fast, we have some deductions to take care of. The Immortal uniform you rented comes to 20 Gold Pieces, the fine for impersonating an Immortal is 50 Gold, you were not to let the subject know of your existence, this will deduct an additional 30, the silk you stole and gave to the subject was 10 gold, then there is a tax on this payment you've received. 133 gold pieced taxed at 10% comes to approximately another 13 gold..." Raka struggled to keep up counting it on her fingers unsuccessfully.

"This leaves you with...this." The Immortal handed her a sack which she quickly dumped out to reveal a measly ten gold pieces.

"WHAT?! This isn't enough to even coverrr the food and traveling expenses!!! Give me my rrreal rrreward nyow!" She began to hiss at the Immortal violently.

"Guards, please remove this woman." Four guards stepped from seemingly no where and each grabbed an appendage of the Mithra, then hurled her out of Imperial Whitegate onto her butt. She jumped to her feet and howled at the Immortals in anger, but once she rose to her feet she was greeted with the sack of gold to her face. Sending her back to the ground the tiny sack burst on impact, sending the few coins flying. Staggering to get the little money she was given, Raka managed to get one coin as the other nine were quickly picked up my passing adventurers. She fell to her knees as tears streamed down her face.

"It's nyot fairrr!" She slammed her fists onto the ground and let out a small "yip" when her left one made contact. The small self inflicted wound on her palm had reopened.




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