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Description
As the memory faded, Manfred and Weiss opened their eyes, taking in the stark change of their surroundings from the bright white of the new buildings to the dull grey of an ancient ruin. Anemonae sat in one corner of the cottage, staring at one of the pictures of her previous self. Weiss could see tears running down her face as she turned to face them, noticing that they had come back from the memory. For the past hour or so, they had been blankly staring at nothing, occasionally making small noises in reaction to something.
She spoke softly, turning back to the painting. “Well?” The others were silent. “It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything. I… I’m sorry, you didn’t have to see that. I just… keep unloading my problems on you, don’t I? Look, I-“
Weiss spoke up. “No, Anemonae… you were right, and I’m sorry.  Samaiel… does he know you’re alive?”
She nodded. “Yeah. But you don’t know…” She sighed, shaking her head. “That Samaiel, the one I loved, is gone. He’s let his dark side completely overtake him, growing mad with power… but that’s not the point!” She dropped the painting. “Come on! We don’t have a minute to lose!”
“What?” Weiss was still in shock, his head still clouded with the memory.
“May! She’s still alive, isn’t she? Let’s go!” Anemonae grabbed his hand, lifting him up. She was smiling now, inspired by the hope that Weiss might not have to suffer the same fate as she did. He couldn’t help but smile as well, looking at her radiant grin. She opened yet another rift leading to the Dark Realm, and the three moved onwards.
They found themselves in the forest once more. Anemonae led the way, but this time they headed away from the museum, and much deeper into the woods than they had before. Soul Collectors ambushed them from every corner, becoming so common that they would attack in packs on occasion, nearly overwhelming the little band.
As the three of them traveled forwards, they were taken by surprise by a line where the trees abruptly stopped growing. They pushed through the trees to find that they were near the summit of a great mountain, overlooking a massive expanse of the Dark Realm. They could see the edge of the forest to their north, revealing a barren desert, a wasteland of cracked rock and little else.  Near the edge stood a grand castle, much more ornate than the imposing fortress of the Museum. It was, in fact, the only well-kept and intact building they had seen in this Realm at all.
Anemonae explained that this building was the castle that Samaiel had built for himself, thus establishing himself as the ruler of this chaotic Realm after it had been torn to pieces by the war with the Light Realm. It was simply a symbol, she said, of his unending lust for power.
A few yards ahead of them stood a small shack, in stark contrast with the grand structure just a few miles in the distance. Weiss and Manfred started to walk in the direction of the castle, but Anemonae grabbed them by the wrists and dragged them towards the shack, completely ignoring their protests. She threw open the door and shoved them in. She was a lot stronger than her new, rather small body let on.
The interior of the shack was just as modest as its outside: a dirt floor, a few heavily-worn blankets on a tiny cot, and a simple wooden chair were all that furnished the single room. The only thing even mildly impressive about it was a huge iron cauldron on the far end of the room which sat in an almost comically small fireplace. A small girl crouched by the cauldron, stirring its contents with a wooden stick. She was dressed in a very plain, tattered dress. As the door closed, she whipped her head around to face them. She bounced over to them, low to the ground like some sort of animal.
“Hello,” Anemonae said with a smile. “How are you?” The girl looked at her quizzically, and there was an awkward pause. “Ah! That’s right, this isn’t my body…” She crouched down to the girl’s level.  “It’s me, Anemonae.” A look of recognition suddenly came over the girl’s face, and she touched Anemonae’s head in a sign of affection. “I’ve got something for you,” Anemonae said. “Do you think you can do something with this?” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a strip of cloth which she handed to the girl.
She took the cloth, gazing at it, stroking it, and even sniffing it. After much deliberation, she nodded, and then moved back to the cauldron, nonchalantly tossing it in. She picked up her stick and began to stir the contents of the black pot, ignoring them once again. Anemonae stood there, waiting. Weiss tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey. We should get going, shouldn’t we?”
She shook her head. “Oh no. She’ll be done in just a couple of minutes.”
The girl turned around again and violently shook her head, pointing at an invisible watch on her wrist.
“Oh,” Anemonae said dejectedly. “You won’t?” The girl nodded and turned back to her cooking. Anemonae sighed and thought the situation over for a moment. “Alright then. We’ll go. You’ll contact me when you’re done, won’t you?” The girl nodded impatiently and waved in the direction of the door. “Thank you,” Anemonae said as they left.
“What was that all about?” Manfred asked in his typically whiny tone as they started towards the castle in the distance. Anemonae just smiled.
“You’ll see.”
“Well, who’s that girl?”
“A friend.”
“What does she do with that gigantic pot? I doubt she’s cooking soup…”
“That’s true.”
They kept walking, silent, for quite a few minutes.
Manfred couldn’t handle it for long. “C’mon, Weiss, back me up here!”
Weiss paid no attention, his mind only focused on finding May. He kept walking, oblivious to Manfred’s constant whining.
“Fine. Ignore me.” Manfred crossed his arms, pouting for the rest of the day.

It was early morning. Weiss, Anemonae, and Manfred had spent the past week or so hiking through the heart of the forest. Weiss had been silent the entire time, and in turn, so had the others. There was a dark mood among them. Anemonae’s cheeriness had long since worn off, and she had become as somber as Weiss. Manfred wasn’t somber per se, but he couldn’t bring himself to break their silence, so he just fidgeted impatiently.
They came to the edge of the forest, to the miles-wide clearing in which the castle lay. They started to head up the path leading to its massive, ornate doorway. Before they could reach it, though, a flash of black appeared in front of them. They recoiled, and as they reluctantly looked back, they saw Samaiel’s tall form standing before them.
Weiss hadn’t been able to get a good look at the man who called himself Death before this point, and now they stood not five feet apart. Standing so close, he could now see how tall Samaiel was: practically a giant, at least a foot taller than he. He had a slender face, handsome by any standard, but his eyes were cold and empty. Long, perfectly groomed, silver hair fell around his head and to his back. He wore an elegant black cloak, decorated with the finest embroidery. He regarded Weiss with a smirk on his face, a look that almost seemed victorious.
“So, you’ve all come.” His voice was dark, and he spoke with perfect diction. “You’ve come for the girl, haven’t you?
Weiss spoke in a low growl. “Give her back, you bastard.”
Samaiel was unaffected. “To give something back… one would had to have taken something. I have taken nothing from you, Weiss Wakefield.”
“What are you talking about? You took May from me! Where are you keeping her?” Anemonae had to hold him back to keep him from lashing out at Samaiel, a wildly unwise action.
“Miss Materas chose to follow me home the other night. I had nothing to do with it, except to tell her a tale.” Samaiel’s smile widened, a truly evil expression.
“Liar! You possessed her, or hypnotized her… and now she’s starving in some cell, isn’t she?”
“Hardly.” He called out. “May! Could you come here, my dear?”

The girl appeared from behind some trees a few yards away, clutching a freshly-picked bouquet of flowers in her hand. She had changed from her T-shirt and jeans into a beautiful black dress, one that looked like it could have been worn by a medieval princess. She approached swiftly, offering the flowers to Samaiel. Weiss’s heart sank as he saw her face: her eyes were glazed over, and she wore a blankly blissful expression.
“Why, May… I’m flattered.” Samaiel took the flowers, picking a black rose from the bunch and carefully tucking it behind her ear. “Now, my dear… we have a small bit of business to attend to. Don’t fret, it shan’t take long.” He took her by the shoulders, turning her towards Weiss and the others. “This boy… what does he mean to you?”
May stared at him for a few seconds. Weiss thought that he could see some life in her eyes, some of her old self, but it only lasted for a fleeting second. She shook her head. “Nothing, Master. Who is he?”
“He is-”
Weiss cut Samaiel off. “Master?! What have you done to her?”
“I keep telling you, nothing. You are, apparently, too dull to understand. It all worked out in the end, though.”
“What?”
“You’re here, and I couldn’t ask for anything more convenient. Tell me, Weiss. Have you seen somebody lose their soul?”
Weiss didn’t reply.
“Ah, well… that’s too bad.” He laughed, shoving May to the ground. She gasped, and the blank look on her face disappeared, replaced with shock. She groaned as she got to her feet. “What… What’s going on? Weiss? Oh, Weiss, you’re-“
A swift kick to the side sent her sprawling to the ground again. “Weiss! Anemonae! Your final memories will be of this girl’s transformation. You brought her into this… and now you will face the consequences.”
“No!” Weiss ran to them, trying to get May away from Samaiel. Suddenly, he was completely unable to move. His eyes were permanently affixed to May, who stared into his eyes, terrified.

May Materas whispered the words “I’m sorry” as Samaiel held his hand in front of her. She screamed in pain as an indescribable essence left her, as a swirling energy entered Samaiel’s body. As her soul left her body, she began to spew a white liquid from her eyes, nose, and mouth. Her face was covered in the liquid, which hardened to form a mask. Her dress merged with her body, becoming a part of her. Bony wings burst from her back, and tendrils of darkness swirled around her. After several minutes of this transformation, she stood.
“Go, Soul Collector.” Samaiel gestured listlessly to the forest. “Fetch me more souls. I must take care of these three.” He strolled lazily over to Weiss, smirking. “Well, now that I’ve taken care of the bait, I suppose I have to deal with you.”
Weiss wanted to scream, he wanted to attack Samaiel, he wanted to do anything, but he couldn’t. He could only stand in one spot, frozen. Samaiel approached him, holding out the same twisted hand that had taken May’s essence from her. He could feel everything leaving him: his emotions, his thoughts, and his memories. He blacked out, overwhelmed by the most intense pain he’d ever experienced.

It was black. Everything was black, and Weiss was in the middle of it all. He neither lay down nor stood in this darkness, he simply knew that he existed. A figure approached him, and his thoughts immediately went to the creature that had come to Samaiel in his memory. This thing was humanoid, but completely black. It wore the white, featureless mask of a Soul Collector.
“Greetings,” it said. Its voice was familiar to Weiss, but he had never heard anything like it before. It spoke with many different tones at once, covering every range from a low whisper to a shriek. It spoke with utter contempt and malice. “Weiss… thank you. Within a few moments, your pathetic body will make way for me, and you will be gone forever.” It started to giggle. “You know why I’m here? Your stupidity brought me into this world. Oh, how funny that is! Your futile little quest amounted to nothing… nothing except me.”
Weiss found that he could speak, with great difficulty. “Who are you?”
The creature laughed wildly. “Oh, that’s just hilarious! Who am I? I am you, Weiss! We’re one and the same, you know! Although, I can’t say that I like your name. No, it won’t do at all. I can’t go around calling myself ‘White’ all the time, can I? I think I’ll call myself… Schwarz. Ah, sweet irony… Well, your pathetic existence won’t last very long now, so I think I’ll take my leave. Goodbye, Wei-“
Weiss let out a bellow of rage, using all of the strength that he could to run up to Schwarz and attack him. He clawed at the black thing’s mask, breaking little bits off of it. Schwarz shoved him off, readying himself to fight. His hands separated from his body, attached by chains.
“I think you’ll find that was quite an unwise move…” The malicious mirth that Schwarz spoke with earlier had disappeared, replaced with one of extreme hatred. “I was going to let you fade away, but it looks like you want your last moments of existence full of pain!” He laughed again. “Of course, I’m more than happy to oblige…” He lunged towards Weiss, swinging his arms at him, wrapping the chains around his body.
Weiss found that he was much stronger in this black place, and that he could more easily perform the spell that Zephyr had taught him. He struggled out of Schwarz’s grip and began to fight him. Schwarz was impossibly fast, and every move he made seemed to make the chains lash against Weiss. Weiss could not avoid many of his dark doppelganger’s attacks, and took many painful hits. It was not the sort of pain he was used to, though. It didn’t feel as though his body was being injured, rather, it felt like his very soul was being damaged.
As he continued to be hurt, he could feel himself slipping away, receding into the darkness. It was a horrid feeling, the feeling of being completely lost. He was about to lose consciousness, when he saw an opening. Time seemed to move in slow motion as a chain whipped towards him. Without a second thought, he grabbed onto the chain, gripping it with all his might. The chain returned to Schwarz as it continued to move, and Weiss used the momentum to his advantage, flinging himself towards his enemy. He flew forward, arms outstretched, and grabbed Schwarz’s mask. He pulled as hard as he could, struggling with the dark creature. Finally, the mask came loose, and Weiss saw his own face, shaded with wild hair, looking back at him with an evil grin.

The dark world seemed to collapse upon itself with a cacophony of intense light and indescribable sound, and then there was nothing.

Description
As the memory faded, Manfred and Weiss opened their eyes, taking in the stark change of their surroundings from the bright white of the new buildings to the dull grey of an ancient ruin. Anemonae sat in one corner of the cottage, staring at one of the pictures of her previous self. Weiss could see tears running down her face as she turned to face them, noticing that they had come back from the memory. For the past hour or so, they had been blankly staring at nothing, occasionally making small noises in reaction to something.
She spoke softly, turning back to the painting. “Well?” The others were silent. “It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything. I… I’m sorry, you didn’t have to see that. I just… keep unloading my problems on you, don’t I? Look, I-“
Weiss spoke up. “No, Anemonae… you were right, and I’m sorry.  Samaiel… does he know you’re alive?”
She nodded. “Yeah. But you don’t know…” She sighed, shaking her head. “That Samaiel, the one I loved, is gone. He’s let his dark side completely overtake him, growing mad with power… but that’s not the point!” She dropped the painting. “Come on! We don’t have a minute to lose!”
“What?” Weiss was still in shock, his head still clouded with the memory.
“May! She’s still alive, isn’t she? Let’s go!” Anemonae grabbed his hand, lifting him up. She was smiling now, inspired by the hope that Weiss might not have to suffer the same fate as she did. He couldn’t help but smile as well, looking at her radiant grin. She opened yet another rift leading to the Dark Realm, and the three moved onwards.
They found themselves in the forest once more. Anemonae led the way, but this time they headed away from the museum, and much deeper into the woods than they had before. Soul Collectors ambushed them from every corner, becoming so common that they would attack in packs on occasion, nearly overwhelming the little band.
As the three of them traveled forwards, they were taken by surprise by a line where the trees abruptly stopped growing. They pushed through the trees to find that they were near the summit of a great mountain, overlooking a massive expanse of the Dark Realm. They could see the edge of the forest to their north, revealing a barren desert, a wasteland of cracked rock and little else.  Near the edge stood a grand castle, much more ornate than the imposing fortress of the Museum. It was, in fact, the only well-kept and intact building they had seen in this Realm at all.
Anemonae explained that this building was the castle that Samaiel had built for himself, thus establishing himself as the ruler of this chaotic Realm after it had been torn to pieces by the war with the Light Realm. It was simply a symbol, she said, of his unending lust for power.
A few yards ahead of them stood a small shack, in stark contrast with the grand structure just a few miles in the distance. Weiss and Manfred started to walk in the direction of the castle, but Anemonae grabbed them by the wrists and dragged them towards the shack, completely ignoring their protests. She threw open the door and shoved them in. She was a lot stronger than her new, rather small body let on.
The interior of the shack was just as modest as its outside: a dirt floor, a few heavily-worn blankets on a tiny cot, and a simple wooden chair were all that furnished the single room. The only thing even mildly impressive about it was a huge iron cauldron on the far end of the room which sat in an almost comically small fireplace. A small girl crouched by the cauldron, stirring its contents with a wooden stick. She was dressed in a very plain, tattered dress. As the door closed, she whipped her head around to face them. She bounced over to them, low to the ground like some sort of animal.
“Hello,” Anemonae said with a smile. “How are you?” The girl looked at her quizzically, and there was an awkward pause. “Ah! That’s right, this isn’t my body…” She crouched down to the girl’s level.  “It’s me, Anemonae.” A look of recognition suddenly came over the girl’s face, and she touched Anemonae’s head in a sign of affection. “I’ve got something for you,” Anemonae said. “Do you think you can do something with this?” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a strip of cloth which she handed to the girl.
She took the cloth, gazing at it, stroking it, and even sniffing it. After much deliberation, she nodded, and then moved back to the cauldron, nonchalantly tossing it in. She picked up her stick and began to stir the contents of the black pot, ignoring them once again. Anemonae stood there, waiting. Weiss tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey. We should get going, shouldn’t we?”
She shook her head. “Oh no. She’ll be done in just a couple of minutes.”
The girl turned around again and violently shook her head, pointing at an invisible watch on her wrist.
“Oh,” Anemonae said dejectedly. “You won’t?” The girl nodded and turned back to her cooking. Anemonae sighed and thought the situation over for a moment. “Alright then. We’ll go. You’ll contact me when you’re done, won’t you?” The girl nodded impatiently and waved in the direction of the door. “Thank you,” Anemonae said as they left.
“What was that all about?” Manfred asked in his typically whiny tone as they started towards the castle in the distance. Anemonae just smiled.
“You’ll see.”
“Well, who’s that girl?”
“A friend.”
“What does she do with that gigantic pot? I doubt she’s cooking soup…”
“That’s true.”
They kept walking, silent, for quite a few minutes.
Manfred couldn’t handle it for long. “C’mon, Weiss, back me up here!”
Weiss paid no attention, his mind only focused on finding May. He kept walking, oblivious to Manfred’s constant whining.
“Fine. Ignore me.” Manfred crossed his arms, pouting for the rest of the day.

It was early morning. Weiss, Anemonae, and Manfred had spent the past week or so hiking through the heart of the forest. Weiss had been silent the entire time, and in turn, so had the others. There was a dark mood among them. Anemonae’s cheeriness had long since worn off, and she had become as somber as Weiss. Manfred wasn’t somber per se, but he couldn’t bring himself to break their silence, so he just fidgeted impatiently.
They came to the edge of the forest, to the miles-wide clearing in which the castle lay. They started to head up the path leading to its massive, ornate doorway. Before they could reach it, though, a flash of black appeared in front of them. They recoiled, and as they reluctantly looked back, they saw Samaiel’s tall form standing before them.
Weiss hadn’t been able to get a good look at the man who called himself Death before this point, and now they stood not five feet apart. Standing so close, he could now see how tall Samaiel was: practically a giant, at least a foot taller than he. He had a slender face, handsome by any standard, but his eyes were cold and empty. Long, perfectly groomed, silver hair fell around his head and to his back. He wore an elegant black cloak, decorated with the finest embroidery. He regarded Weiss with a smirk on his face, a look that almost seemed victorious.
“So, you’ve all come.” His voice was dark, and he spoke with perfect diction. “You’ve come for the girl, haven’t you?
Weiss spoke in a low growl. “Give her back, you bastard.”
Samaiel was unaffected. “To give something back… one would had to have taken something. I have taken nothing from you, Weiss Wakefield.”
“What are you talking about? You took May from me! Where are you keeping her?” Anemonae had to hold him back to keep him from lashing out at Samaiel, a wildly unwise action.
“Miss Materas chose to follow me home the other night. I had nothing to do with it, except to tell her a tale.” Samaiel’s smile widened, a truly evil expression.
“Liar! You possessed her, or hypnotized her… and now she’s starving in some cell, isn’t she?”
“Hardly.” He called out. “May! Could you come here, my dear?”

The girl appeared from behind some trees a few yards away, clutching a freshly-picked bouquet of flowers in her hand. She had changed from her T-shirt and jeans into a beautiful black dress, one that looked like it could have been worn by a medieval princess. She approached swiftly, offering the flowers to Samaiel. Weiss’s heart sank as he saw her face: her eyes were glazed over, and she wore a blankly blissful expression.
“Why, May… I’m flattered.” Samaiel took the flowers, picking a black rose from the bunch and carefully tucking it behind her ear. “Now, my dear… we have a small bit of business to attend to. Don’t fret, it shan’t take long.” He took her by the shoulders, turning her towards Weiss and the others. “This boy… what does he mean to you?”
May stared at him for a few seconds. Weiss thought that he could see some life in her eyes, some of her old self, but it only lasted for a fleeting second. She shook her head. “Nothing, Master. Who is he?”
“He is-”
Weiss cut Samaiel off. “Master?! What have you done to her?”
“I keep telling you, nothing. You are, apparently, too dull to understand. It all worked out in the end, though.”
“What?”
“You’re here, and I couldn’t ask for anything more convenient. Tell me, Weiss. Have you seen somebody lose their soul?”
Weiss didn’t reply.
“Ah, well… that’s too bad.” He laughed, shoving May to the ground. She gasped, and the blank look on her face disappeared, replaced with shock. She groaned as she got to her feet. “What… What’s going on? Weiss? Oh, Weiss, you’re-“
A swift kick to the side sent her sprawling to the ground again. “Weiss! Anemonae! Your final memories will be of this girl’s transformation. You brought her into this… and now you will face the consequences.”
“No!” Weiss ran to them, trying to get May away from Samaiel. Suddenly, he was completely unable to move. His eyes were permanently affixed to May, who stared into his eyes, terrified.

May Materas whispered the words “I’m sorry” as Samaiel held his hand in front of her. She screamed in pain as an indescribable essence left her, as a swirling energy entered Samaiel’s body. As her soul left her body, she began to spew a white liquid from her eyes, nose, and mouth. Her face was covered in the liquid, which hardened to form a mask. Her dress merged with her body, becoming a part of her. Bony wings burst from her back, and tendrils of darkness swirled around her. After several minutes of this transformation, she stood.
“Go, Soul Collector.” Samaiel gestured listlessly to the forest. “Fetch me more souls. I must take care of these three.” He strolled lazily over to Weiss, smirking. “Well, now that I’ve taken care of the bait, I suppose I have to deal with you.”
Weiss wanted to scream, he wanted to attack Samaiel, he wanted to do anything, but he couldn’t. He could only stand in one spot, frozen. Samaiel approached him, holding out the same twisted hand that had taken May’s essence from her. He could feel everything leaving him: his emotions, his thoughts, and his memories. He blacked out, overwhelmed by the most intense pain he’d ever experienced.

It was black. Everything was black, and Weiss was in the middle of it all. He neither lay down nor stood in this darkness, he simply knew that he existed. A figure approached him, and his thoughts immediately went to the creature that had come to Samaiel in his memory. This thing was humanoid, but completely black. It wore the white, featureless mask of a Soul Collector.
“Greetings,” it said. Its voice was familiar to Weiss, but he had never heard anything like it before. It spoke with many different tones at once, covering every range from a low whisper to a shriek. It spoke with utter contempt and malice. “Weiss… thank you. Within a few moments, your pathetic body will make way for me, and you will be gone forever.” It started to giggle. “You know why I’m here? Your stupidity brought me into this world. Oh, how funny that is! Your futile little quest amounted to nothing… nothing except me.”
Weiss found that he could speak, with great difficulty. “Who are you?”
The creature laughed wildly. “Oh, that’s just hilarious! Who am I? I am you, Weiss! We’re one and the same, you know! Although, I can’t say that I like your name. No, it won’t do at all. I can’t go around calling myself ‘White’ all the time, can I? I think I’ll call myself… Schwarz. Ah, sweet irony… Well, your pathetic existence won’t last very long now, so I think I’ll take my leave. Goodbye, Wei-“
Weiss let out a bellow of rage, using all of the strength that he could to run up to Schwarz and attack him. He clawed at the black thing’s mask, breaking little bits off of it. Schwarz shoved him off, readying himself to fight. His hands separated from his body, attached by chains.
“I think you’ll find that was quite an unwise move…” The malicious mirth that Schwarz spoke with earlier had disappeared, replaced with one of extreme hatred. “I was going to let you fade away, but it looks like you want your last moments of existence full of pain!” He laughed again. “Of course, I’m more than happy to oblige…” He lunged towards Weiss, swinging his arms at him, wrapping the chains around his body.
Weiss found that he was much stronger in this black place, and that he could more easily perform the spell that Zephyr had taught him. He struggled out of Schwarz’s grip and began to fight him. Schwarz was impossibly fast, and every move he made seemed to make the chains lash against Weiss. Weiss could not avoid many of his dark doppelganger’s attacks, and took many painful hits. It was not the sort of pain he was used to, though. It didn’t feel as though his body was being injured, rather, it felt like his very soul was being damaged.
As he continued to be hurt, he could feel himself slipping away, receding into the darkness. It was a horrid feeling, the feeling of being completely lost. He was about to lose consciousness, when he saw an opening. Time seemed to move in slow motion as a chain whipped towards him. Without a second thought, he grabbed onto the chain, gripping it with all his might. The chain returned to Schwarz as it continued to move, and Weiss used the momentum to his advantage, flinging himself towards his enemy. He flew forward, arms outstretched, and grabbed Schwarz’s mask. He pulled as hard as he could, struggling with the dark creature. Finally, the mask came loose, and Weiss saw his own face, shaded with wild hair, looking back at him with an evil grin.

The dark world seemed to collapse upon itself with a cacophony of intense light and indescribable sound, and then there was nothing.