Clone Seeker

Clone Seeker

Volume 1: Radiant Soul

Within a desolate plane, one of white soil and flat terrain, bright flames danced. They were of a crimson so deep that it would make the thickest pools of blood be engulfed by envy. The flames hissed and crackled, forging an orchestral born of nothing but their own furious melody as they danced freely, uninterrupted. Their presence was domineering, unchallenged by anything for as long as there was a stretch of solid soil, far beyond the limits of any prowling eyes, not that any were around to witness it either. They burned viciously as if in the process of hungrily devouring whatever poor soul had been ensnared by its infernal grasp. And yet, there was no such thing. The fire simply was. It burned infinitely, indifferent to whether the world wished it to or not.

So it did, until finally its unquestionable authority was challenged. It rippled violently for a moment, its attempt to resist discernible. Yet in the end, the flames had been repelled.

Stomp

Taking a heavy step, followed by another, then a next, two figures suddenly appeared. They were both men, seemingly within their late twenties. They wore ragged military clothing and were showered in their own blood. Neither men knew where the blood of one began and the blood of the other ended. Not that it mattered either.

Afterall, soon both of them would be dead.

Stomp, Stomp, Stomp.

They continued to walk within the radius of a circle which the flames did not dare, or were simply incapable of crossing. Beneath their fit was shard pure white soil, silently steaming as they experienced relief from the crimson inferno in what must have been over a hundred years.

Behind them, in front of them, and to both their sides, red flames twice the young men’s sizes simmered, swaying towards them as if wishing to invade the strange authority which had forbidden their entry. Neither men paid this site any special attention, they merely stared forward, yet even that did not seem to be their focus.

They wore grim expressions, their faces carrying heavy scowls. The first of the two, a man with black hair and green eyes, took a moment to pause and re-adjust his partner's arm which was around his shoulders, supported firmly by his own grasp. His partner was limping, his light brown hair dyed red and his glasses shattered. They now served the man no use, yet he could not muster the strength to abandon them as well, he had done so much of that already.

He could not walk on his own anymore, his leg too mangled for it to be of any use. His life was entirely in the hands of his partner, their diligent protector. It was as a lump of bitterness and sorrow built in his chest that they stopped once more.

“Ciel?”

The injured man asked, his tone confused. However, before his protector, Ciel, could answer, the injured man had already discovered the problem.

Ciel frowned.

All around them, the infernal flames spiked then the size of the radius they had been unable to cross just moments ago weakened and the invisible authority began to shrink.

The scene brought shivers down Ciel’s spine, however, he had no time for panic. He strengthened his resolve and willed the radius to expand once more. An imperceptible power, one familiar and felt only by him, responded to his will, albeit weakly. What followed were a series of excruciating minutes in which the flames challenged his authority, almost winning at times yet in the end being repelled back to the previous distance of five meters.

When it was all over, Ciel felt his body calm down. Only then did he realize that he had gripped his fists so tightly that his nails had pierced his skin and blood had shed. He lifted his hand for a moment, staring at the wound with an indescribable emotion.

This doesn’t matter, what is a little more blood after all which I have already shed.

His thoughts were dismissive yet his tone was drenched in bitterness. It was only after his injured partner called out full of concern did Ciel’s thoughts return to him.

“Ciel, Are you sure you are okay? If we have to, don't worry about me and make the call. We can sleep here for today. I won’t complain, you know I won’t.”

His injured partner and long time friend, Oliver Styles, was a far too considerate person. Staring at him blankly, his green eyes darting down towards Oliver’s mangled left leg. A bit of guilt built itself inside Ciel’s heart.

Damn it all! Why couldn’t I do better?!

Oliver was his responsibility, along with the hundred others which he had promised to protect. They trusted him and followed him beyond the ruins of their once precious home, the last stronghold of humanity, Bastion City.

Damn fallen! I swear I’ll obliterate you all some day!

Before he realized it, he had resumed to squeeze his hands once again.

“Ciel?”

Once again Oliver worriedly called out. Ciel shook his head and answered, his tone heavy and poorly concealing his fatigue.

“Fine, but only for a few hours, we are too exposed here. If any fallen find us then…”

He did not want to finish those words, nor did he need to. Oliver understood full well the horrors of this world, now far better than many humans before him had. A gentle smile appeared on his lips after a while, the sight of which made Ciel’s guilt grow even heavier.

*****

An hour later, the two were resting atop of a quickly deployed futon. It was barely wide enough to allow both of them on top, its belly was made of steel while its surface was of a soft fabric. Ciel deployed it from its compressed state which had been strapped onto the single bag hoisted on his back, along with what remained of their food and water.

Ciel watched as Oliver took a moment to count what supplies they had left, a task which his injured friend had insisted on taking upon himself. The attack they had suffered just hours prior had been so sudden that little time was left to properly salvage anything, just as no human lives were able to be salvaged. Ciel’s eyes turned to focus west, there the sun set was blessing the sky with an orange yellow hue. Just this morning around a hundred humans had been alive, yet as night came only two remained. They were all that’s left.

The last humans on earth…

Ciel gritted his teeth as a sudden urge to scream and cry assaulted him. He could not allow himself to succumb to neither desire so he resisted with all his might.

“We are okay for three more days.”

Soon his struggle was interrupted by Oliver’s neutral voice. Ciel turned his eyes away from the horizon, the darkness of the night around them being pushed away by the bright crimson light which the blazing flames produced.

He sighed.

“Then we have maybe seven more days before we die from either hunger or thirst.”

Ciel spoke with clearness, though he judged that Oliver would easily see through his facade. The two were silent for a moment before Oliver shrugged.

“Then so it is… For now, want to play some arcana?”

Oliver reached his hand inside the single bag and took out a black deck. Without waiting for Ciel to answer, he began taking out the major arcana cards from within, laying them out onto the surface of the futon freely.

Ciel watched the first of the twenty two cards fall, unlike the ones that followed, this one stayed upfront revealing the character it portrayed. It was that of a man who wore colorful clothes, bright yellow shoes, and a hat adorned by a large feather. He carried a stick on his back, stood near a cliff’s edge, and had a small puppy companion.

Numbered: ‘0’

‘The Fool’

Ciel stared at the card for a long moment, not moving his sight away from it until Oliver reached fourth to collect it.

“I’ll be the fortune teller, you be the client.”

Oliver said, his voice lacking its usual flamboyance, even with his faulty attempts to emulate it. Ciel sighed.

“We don’t have to do this right now, you can get some sleep first.”

Oliver shook his head.

“No, don’t pretend like the fire didn’t push back your authority. We need to strengthen your Concept Accommodation or else we will both die. Starvation I can accept, but burning alive is something I’m not willing to experience. So stop worrying, this is for my own selfish reasons, okay?”

If you want me to believe that then don’t add the ‘okay’ in the end.

Ciel kept his frown but he knew it would be futile to argue with Oliver on this so he simply gave in. Besides, he was right. With the last of humanity being extinguished then his power would soon dissipate and with that he would lose control. To avoid that they needed to strengthen the anchor of his powers, his concept accommodation. Ciel was a Stage 4 Esper, however without an accommodation then he would succumb to his uncontrollable spirituality before too long.

Luckily for them both, out of a lack of options, he had hastily accommodated the concept of the arcana cards, specifically their twenty two major arcana cards and all the symbols and meanings which came with them. This had granted Ciel the capability to express these cards through abilities which correspond with each card. The very fact that the eternal flames had not swallowed them was a result of one of ‘The World’ card’s abilities which gave him a right to step onto anywhere unimpeded by unnatural forces.

This was why their game was so important, and why Ciel felt more and more bitter as they continued. With each card that appeared he would recall the many abilities which it granted him, along with its meanings. And yet, even with so much at his disposal he was powerless to save the humans he had taken under his care, and powerless to overturn such a dreaded outcome.

Useless… I’m so useless.

Soon their game came to an end and Oliver was finally allowed to rest. It was as he did however, that an unexpected idea sparked in the mind of Ciel. That idea stormed chaotically until it was shaped into a plan.

A plan so crazy that it would overturn not just the dreaded fates of the hundred humans which were slaughtered on this very day, but the millions who died two years ago, when Bastion City fell at the hands of the fallen.