This takes place after 'In Search of Melodies in Ruin.'
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As we journeyed back to our home in the north, we left many behind. Their bodies rotted and their corpses burnt. The smell that filled the air was produced by the fires from the burning of their homes, their encampments, their existence.
We rode on our beasts of burden and as they carried us through day and night, we slaughtered, maimed, scorched, devastated, and killed. Our coming brought screams but our leave left only silence.
It was power unlike any other - the power to take lives and spread fear, for fear is the strongest weapon and we wielded it with ease. The dragons tested us, the ice molded us, and life forged us to be. Marcus was right; if we can kill dragons, we can kill anything. Everything else is but a roach in our steps.
Nothing shall stand in our way.
We will continue to ride.
We will continue to do what the gods will not.
We will bring glory to Ishgard.
We rode on our beasts of burden and as they carried us through day and night, we slaughtered, maimed, scorched, devastated, and killed. Our coming brought screams but our leave left only silence.
It was power unlike any other - the power to take lives and spread fear, for fear is the strongest weapon and we wielded it with ease. The dragons tested us, the ice molded us, and life forged us to be. Marcus was right; if we can kill dragons, we can kill anything. Everything else is but a roach in our steps.
Nothing shall stand in our way.
We will continue to ride.
We will continue to do what the gods will not.
We will bring glory to Ishgard.
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"Marcus! We have a runner!"
"H-yah! He's mine!"
The poacher ran, panting and desperately hoping to escape. His encampment burned in the night sky and the bodies of those he once knew were piled up and scorched. Marcus' black chocobo shrieked as both man and beast chased down their prey. With one hand on the reigns and the other reaching for his halberd, Marcus leaned forward and speared the runner's thigh, forcing the man to tumble into a wreck. He cried and he moaned. He begged and he pleaded.
Dismounting the chocobo, Marcus withdrew his sword and slowly approached the pathetic man who continued to grab his injury in tears. The weapon shined under the Black Shroud moonlight. Through his tears, the hyur watched as his own blood dripped from the steel that seemed to hunger for more. Small steps Marcus took until he was standing in front of the man and his sword held ready for execution. Grabbing onto Marcus' foot, the man still continued to beg for his life but the empty bloodshot eyes behind Marcus’ visor would grant no such pardon.
The Nightmare brought the blade into the man's neck. As his life left him, the man’s body fell limp. The involuntarily twitching slowly subsided and then there was silence.
Riding to his older brother, Xydane watched as Marcus yanked the halberd free and sheathed it onto his back. For the moment, both men watched as fire continued to eat the encampment.
"How much longer until we reach Ishgard?"
"Two days ride."
"Hm... very well."
"Shall we continue with our work?" "Yes but... Xydane?" "Hm?" "Do you wish to visit Clover in Gridania?"
"No... not like this. Not now."
