Shadow Slave

After a full and delightful meal, the two of them sat in silence for a while, enjoying their drinks. Noctis was consuming a truly unwise amount of wine with an absentminded smile on his face, while Sunny stuck to tea. The beautiful porcelain cup looked tiny and fragile in his massive clawed hand, sunlight reflecting from the ember surface of the fragrant drink.

In this rare moment of peace, he suddenly found himself overwhelmed by apathy and melancholy. Sunny was used to often feeling his heart beating with anger, fear, and resentment, but this strange lethargy was new and unwelcome. He didn’t like it at all.

Searching for a way to entertain himself and chase it away, he suddenly glanced at the immortal sorcerer with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Sunny lingered for a few moments, and then picked up the emerald amulet.

“Lord Noctis… you have been a very gracious host to me. You have given me shelter, showered me with gifts, and provided me with many delicious foods. Let me share the traditional food of my people with you, as well. That will make me feel better.”

The immortal Transcendent raised an eyebrow and looked at him with doubt. Then, a curious grin appeared on his face.

“Oh! Exotic food… how wonderful. Do you need any ingredients to cook it?”

Sunny calmly shook his head, then summoned the Covetous Coffer. The toothy box weaved itself from sparks of light and appeared on the table. Then, it saw the sorcerer, trembled, and scurried over to hide behind one of Sunny’s hands.

Noctis watched the Coffer appear with sincere amusement.

“Huh… that little creature of yours reminds me of someone. What a cutie!”

Sunny reached into the box and produced a tube of synthpaste, then handed it to the immortal with a polite smile. Noctis took the tube, stared at it in confusion for a while, then brought it closer to his face and sniffed it.

“Such a… peculiar… uh… container? It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Sunny nodded solemnly and made a twisting motion with his hand.

“You twist the cap off, pierce the membrane, and then squirt the contents into your mouth. Be warned, though… some people have said that its flavor is simply unmatched… unparalleled, even… and that there is no other food like this in the entire world. Many shed tears just from tasting it!”

The sorcerer blinked a couple of times after hearing words like “membrane” and “squirt”, then twisted the cap off the tube and removed the foil membrane. Finally, he raised the tube with enthusiasm, opened his mouth wide, and sent a stream of viscous, colorless sludge into it.

Noctis closed his mouth, chewed a couple of times, then froze. Slowly, his face changed, becoming pale and almost panicked. He glanced at Sunny with wide eyes, shuddered, then slowly chewed some more, and swallowed with visible effort.

Sunny continued to stare at him.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?”

The immortal Transcendent shivered, then forced out a weak smile.

“That, uh… is an unforgettable flavor, indeed. Truly… truly a dish worthy of being eaten by those following the God of Death! Thank you v—very much, Sunless. I’ve been… really enlightened…”

Sunny grinned.

“Don’t be shy then. Eat some more!”

Noctis dropped the tube on the table and energetically shook his head.

“No, no. Sadly, I am very full. Thanks for the offer, though!”

He reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed his glass, then gulped down all of the wine in one go.

Sunny sipped his tea with a satisfied expression.

‘Serves you right, bastard…’

The sorcerer poured himself some more wine, glanced at the tube of synthpaste with unrestrained horror, and then furtively moved it further away from himself. Finally, he looked at Sunny and lingered for a few moments.

Then, the immortal asked:

“So, Sunless. Now that we had a splendid… an unforgettable… breakfast, are you going to tell me where the glass knife is?”

***

Sunny hesitated for a bit, then answered with a measured thought:

“I might. I need to know a few things first, though.”

Noctis sighed with disappointment, then reluctantly shrugged.

“Knowing things is very overrated, if you ask me. But I understand… creatures of Shadow are known to be drawn to mysteries, after all. What is it that you are curious about?”

Sunny slowly inhaled, thinking. There were many things he wanted to learn… but the most important of them was rather simple. It carried the most weight for his plans and his future… was Noctis really capable of defeating the other immortals and breaking Hope’s chains?

It certainly didn’t seem so… as far as Chain Lords went, the sorcerer was not the most fearsome and terrifying. In fact, his whole persona and attitude made him look rather harmless. Sunny knew, of course, that it was just a mask, and that there was vast and dreadful power hiding beneath it… but would that power be enough to challenge the likes of Solvane or the rulers of the Ivory City?

Both factions had armies, countless Awakened, and enough resources to wage a war for centuries, while Noctis only had himself and a few Sailor Dolls. So was his desire to unleash hell upon the shattered kingdom just madness, or did he have a solid reason to be confident that there was at least a chance of victory?

Sunny was going to make a decision on whether or not to join the sorcerer in this insane endeavor, after all, so knowing the answer was of utmost importance. His life depended on it.

He hesitated, and then said… or rather, thought:

“How many knives do you already possess?”

Noctis smiled radiantly, then answered in a carefree tone. His answer, however, was not at all what Sunny hoped and expected to hear:

“Why do you mean? I don’t have any!”

Sunny’s face twitched, and the porcelain cup suddenly exploded in his hand. He was to shocked to pay it any attention, though.

“What? How… how can you not have a single knife?! You have to have the one entrusted to you, at least!”

The sorcerer waved a hand.

“Oh… I used to have one, true, but it is, sort of… well, things happened, and now I don’t have it anymore.”

Sunny stared at the immortal Transcendent with a stunned expression. He was so befuddled that he even forgot to remove his hand from the emerald amulet.

“This guy can’t be that insane… right? How is he going to wage war against all of the Kingdom of Hope if he doesn’t even have a single knife?! I have more of them than he does, goddammit!”

Noctis laughed.

“So fierce, so straightforward! Ah, but don’t worry about it, Sunless.”

He remained silent for a few moments, drinking his wine, and then sighed.

“You see… in the beginning, there were seven knives, entrusted to the seven of us to hold the fate of another in their hands. The Iron Knife, the Wooden Knife, the Ember Knife, the Glass Knife, the Ivory Knife, the Obsidian Knife… and the Ruby Knife.”

The sorcerer stared into the distance, as if remembering the past. A dark expression appeared on his face.

“The Iron Knife was used and destroyed, and so was the Ember Knife. So, only five remain. However… through coincidence, or maybe fate, none of the Chain Lords now possess one, except for Solvane, who wields her own fate and not that of the other.”

He smiled.

“You see, the Shadow hid the Glass knife before his death. No one knows where it is. The Obsidian Knife had been entrusted to the One in the North, but she lost it to me in a game of wit…”

Sunny growled.

“Wait… didn’t you lose that one, too? How the hell did you manage to lose two of the damned knives?!”

Noctis giggled.

“Oh… actually, I lost three. I had the Ivory Knife too, at some point…”

Sunny groaned, then grabbed his head.

“What is wrong with you… why is all of this so confusing…”

The sorcerer remained silent, smiling politely. Finally, he sighed.

“Oh, you are right. It is very convoluted, I guess, for someone who hasn’t been living it all for centuries. So… let me start at the beginning, and explain to you the fate of each of the knives. Then, you will understand why I dare to challenge all the other Chain Lords, and how I hope to defeat them.”

Sunny grimaced, then nodded dejectedly. Noctis poured himself more wine, remained silent for a few moments, and then spoke:

“The Glass knife is the most simple to trace…”

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