Dragon Quest VIII - Remembrances... (Extended)
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- Опубликовано: 5 окт 2024
- #supercupofjoe #dragonquestviii
Music from Dragon Quest VIII: Journey of the Cursed King (2004)
Koichi Sugiyama and Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra - Remembrances...
No copyright intended. 
Развлечения
R.I.P Akira Toriyama.
The king was spiralled in an ocean of sorrow. Ishmahri, led by the Hero and his fellowship, played a note bringing a resonant hum that would fill the throne room from a mystical harp. This was to get the saddened king's attention and Ishmahri offered sympathetically.
"Oh grieving soul. May the moon's ray trace the scenes enacted here long ago..."
The mysterious wizard played his harp, letting out a tranquil music he'd already heard and magic form in the image of the dead brown haired beauty in a yellow and pink Second Empire style dress. Joy and laughter from her beckoned the poor fellow who looked about as she disappeared and appeared all around him. A curious diversion, and a circumstance that he could not easily explain. Yet, undeniably, he felt his reunion taking place albeit in disbelief.
"What is this? A dream? An illusion? No... I remember this... you..."
As his hand reached to touch the ghostly figure of his dead queen, she disappeared. The throne room was all around, but like the rest of the castle, the throne room was partially quiet. The voice seemed real but could only exist in his mind. Was he mad?
"... is wrong? What is wrong?" the ghost of Sasha laughed.
"Sasha, I've missed you so! These two years, I've thought nothing but you. Ever since you passed away..."
The ghost of Sasha laughed in assurance.
"You're not still fretting about this morning's missive, are you? You musn't you made the right decision. You're always so lenient with people. But sometimes you need to be firm too. That's a king's duty. Everybody believes in you. You must stand tall and proud. Ascantha is your country."
As the king was about to take another step, the spirit of Sasha continued.
"Oh yes, the innkeeper's dog had a puppy! He wants us to think of a name!"
The king turned to look at a ghost of himself, sitting on his throne in his former garments which looked colourful and bright. He realised.
"Is that... me? Yes, I remember this. It was the spring before the last. So this is a memory from the past?"
The ghost of his former self laughed.
"A puppy, you say? ... what do you think? No doubt you've already thought of a good name for it!"
Next to him, the ghost of Sasha replied.
"It's a secret."
Of course! Sasha wouldn't reveal its name because she assumed the king too must have thought of another. This was going to take some hard thinking...
"Why? If you've thought of a name, then I'm sure it's splendid. Tell me!" urged the ghost of the king's past.
"Surely you have a suggestion too? A name for a puppy?" the ghost of Sasha insisted.
"But I'm sure yours..."
"Shush now, Pavan." the ghost of Sasha interrupted, "I think any name you came up with would be simply perfect. My dear king. You are a wise and kind man. You should follow your own instincts. I was planning to use the name you thought of. That's all I'd decided."
With the images of their past selves disappeared, Pavan settled down. He was still at the bottom, so the only way was up. Pavan reminisced.
"... Ah, yes. She was always like that, always giving me such much encouragement. Sasha... why..."
Pavan called up disconsolately. Sasha must have done this a thousand times - why couldn't Sasha just tell which one to do next? The ethereal figure of Pavan's former self wondered.
"... Sasha. Why are you always so strong?"
"Because my mother gives me strength."
"Your mother? But she passed away years ago..." said the ethereal form of Pavan's past self.
Sasha was prepared to be a little more patient with him this time.
"I never told you, but I was very timid as child, so weak and afraid. And every day, my mother would try hard to encourage me. When she died, I was so sad and lonely... But then I realised... If I went back to my old timid self, I would have nothing left of my mother at at all. It would be as if she had never existed. I realised I had to be strong. That I must remember her words of encouragement and everything she taught me. That way, she'll live inside me for always. For ever..."
Pavan began to have smallest hint of confidence. There seemed nothing else to be done.
"Sasha. You're right... I should be more like you."
"Shall we go out onto the terrace? The weather's so nice today. It would be so lovely to enjoy the breeze together."
The ghost of Sasha hovered and held out her towards either of the two. Pavan stepped forward to place his into hers with a short exhalation and found the visions helpful in regaining back on his feet. That seemed a good place to head. He would relish it. Ishmahri continued with his ritual as the Hero looked as the progress went on. Here was a terrace balcony. What were they doing, he wondered? On the balcony, Pavan watched with some concern with the ghost of Sasha. Together they watched dawn break over the now
peaceful city of Ascantha. The wind whistled about the rooftops and walls, and from this height they could see far to distant hills with sun bursting through above. There was time to admire the breathtaking view. She urged.
"Look! Your country stretches before us as far as the eye can see. Oh! Ascantha is so beautiful." she called out brightly.
"... Yes. Beautiful, Sasha... so beautiful." Pavan muttered.
"My darling king. For people to live their lives happily... you must be strong..."
This benign apparition faded and drifted apart in transparency of magic, and all traces were swirled to the winds. They stood in silent awe. The situation struck Pavan as faintly ridiculous. He took heart from the certainty that Sasha's spirit awaited at the end of it all.
"... I remember. Everything you ever told me lives on inside my heart. Forgive me, Sasha. I've finally opened my eyes. I'm sorry for being sad and lonely. At last, I've finally awoken from my long and terrible nightmare.
Finally spent, the king came to a realisation: this sadness could be overcome, for it was by the ghost of Sasha's lecture that helped him. Pavan didn't seem to notice Ishmahri being the one who started these visions. Black drapes on the tower retracted and orange ones were dropped, signifying their mourning period was over. The inhabitants who were once in black were now restored to their regular clothing.
Sugiyama was a master in his craft. Let’s hope XII has memorable music like this.
Gaining peace, the Hero went upstairs in front of him in the direction he felt this was the last floor. Upon arriving the top floor of the tower, the Hero observed all around him, a moon-viewing belvedere set off the terrace. At the centre of this formal space was a hole where he came from, water from all around the rim of the vegetation-covered roof into canals. Two braziers were lit. The Hero went upstairs onto cobblestoned floor and drew fascinated by a statue of a beautiful maiden. Its eyes were set with a pair of beautiful, shimmering gems. Ancestor perhaps.
The Hero turned to leave the tower only to be halted by a fair-skinned girl with brown eyes who dropped a bouquet of flowers. The girl had red hair tied into twin pigtail styles in a full sleeved blouse with a standup collar decorated with a maroon ribbon over a long maroon skirt. The sleeves were relatively loose, the narrow waistline and decorative frills created the impression of a royal and aristocratic girl. Such fashion was worn during the Victorian Era. She sharply accused the Hero.
"You! I knew you'd be back for the jewels! You killed my brother! Now, you'll suffer the same fate -"
The girl conjured a fireball from her fingertip and hurled it at the Hero who avoided it, accidently hitting the statue. The statue was now set ablaze. She fired another at him, forcing him to avoid. The girl was partly impressed, but continued her misguided revenge against him.
"You're fast! I guess thieves need to be quick on their toes! But you won't get away from me this time!"
She gathered energy to form into a great fireball, hoping to kill him.
"Prepare... to... d-"
A male voice interrupted, causing the girl to halt.
"Wait! Jessica, it's me! Don't you recognise my voice?"
"A-Alistair?"
The voice of Alistair pointed out.
"Stay your spell, Jessica! I wasn't slain at their hands.
"Stay my spell?! But it's too late..."
Jessica could not recede her projectile attack, forcing her to fire it. The projectile ricochet and destroyed a brazier, as though some unknown force guided it. She ran urgently towards the statue, pushing the Hero.
"Alistair! Alistair! Is that really you?"
"It's me, Jess. You... have to listen to me. As do you, travellers..."
Both, Jessica and the Hero listened attentively. The voice of Alistair continued.
"After I died, a part of my soul... was allowed to linger in this statue. Even now as I speak to you... The power keeping me here begins to evaporate... Time is short... Look into the statue's eyes... The truth lies within... Hurry... The day I died, the door to the tower was already opened. I thought it was strange. So I decided to look around and see for myself. That's when I saw him."
Jessica and the Hero shot their gaze into the gems, showing Alistair's fate. They himself walking upstairs. So this was how Alistair was - a young man with black hair in a full armour and helmet. He sensed someone was behind him. A tall, physically imposing man with long grey hair in a doublet with alternating red and purple fabric with slashes ending in a puffy ball of the other colour (purple on red fabric and vice versa) that reached down to his ankles. The doublet had large leg-of-mutton shoulder pads and solid red sleeves. The back of the tunic had a long purple cape with black lining that ended in two tails with puffy red balls at the end like his doublet. He wore orange trousers and black leather knee-length boots.
He turned to face him, hand on the hilt.
"Who are you?" Alistair demanded.
"Such a pity." the jester muttered.
"Pity...?! What are you talking about? Who are you? Answer me!"
"Me? I am Dhoulmagus. And I was referring to the fragility of human life."
"Fragility? What do you mean!?"
He screwed up his strength for he would need that sword for more important matters. Alistair was about to draw his sword in readiness and felt the weapon was stuck as though something very strong that was preventing it to budge. He tried very hard to pull it. His efforts were in vain.
"My... My sword! I, I can't draw my sword!"
"I said such a pity. A terrible pity that a shining young star like you should chance to encounter me."
Dhoulmagus directed his sceptre at Alistair, rendering him still. He grunted and panted.
"What have you done... to... me...?"
The assailant disappeared and appeared from various spots, approaching his immobilised target. Fear was obvious in Alistair's eyes, knowing his death was inevitable.
"Dhoulmagus...! I won't forget this!"
"What? You won't forget my name? You're too kind. I shall return the favour, and remember yours as well. Now, let us finish this before I feel anymore pity..." he said, half-kindly half-mockingly.
"DHOULMAGUS!!!" Alistair cried.
He was shaking in fright as a gaunt figure loomed over him, sceptre drawn. This man wrapped his left arm around him, swiftly stabbed the shocked boy; with a grin of satisfaction, watched him fall. Perhaps, he wasn't kind enough to call Alistair by his name.
"It has been an honour making your acquaintance. You may rest assured, your death will not be in vain."
He laughed triumphantly. Back to the present, the Hero and Jessica stood listening to her brother's words. Yangus and Trode arrived to listen to the remaining parts of his message. The voice of Alistair continued.
"And now you have seen what the statue saw, my travelling friends. I don't understand it myself. But it seems the statue of Alexandra has been waiting for your arrival. If the memory of my tale can serve you on your quest, it would bring relief to my soul..."
He added sadness to the tone.
"My stay here is coming to an end. It's time for us to part..."
Jessica felt torn and did not want to feel separated from her deceased brother.
"No! Alistair! Don't leave me!"
The voice of Alistair added.
"One final thing, Jess... Mother may try to stand in your way. Nevertheless... Follow your heart, and do as you must. Farewell, my little sister..."
Jessica felt left behind, raised her arms in plea for him not to leave, dropped to her knees in sorrow. Trode observed.
"What a tragic affair. There can be no question. This is Dhoulmagus' treachery!"
"COR BLIMEY!"
Yangus stepsided and was stood, petrified - mouth opened in surprise. Trode continued.
"It would appear Alistair also wishes us to bring Dhoulmagus to justice. His sacrifice shall not be in vain. Now we have yet another reason to stop Dhoulmagus' foul reign of terror... I shall await you by the carriage. Cheerio!"
Trode didn't seem to bother to notice Yangus who froze in a jolt and ran downstairs. The Hero approached the still-weeping Jessica and turned to Yangus.
"I'm no good when it comes to sob stories like that. I'll need a good ol' bawl to get it out of me system when I get a bit o' time on me own later. Anyway, we'd better leave that Jessica be for a bit like she asked. Let's go back to the village, eh?"
The Hero ran down towards the exit only to be cut by Jessica's call.
"I must really apologise for my behaviour. We'll talk more later, but I need to be alone right now... I'll see you back at the village."
The Hero realised Alistair was the second victim, while Master Rylus being the first. It was made clear to the Hero that the same perpetrator was the one who started this. Whatever cause or reason was behind this will be resolved in due time.
The Hero came to a room where a familiar figure waited with a girl next to her.
"Oh it's you."
Dominico was still displeased at his initial refusal to kill Jessica. He continued.
"I've not been feeling well ever since that witch off, you know. It's not a physical matter. I've just got an uneasiness that I can't seem to shake. It's hard to put it into words, but I'm gripped by the feeling that I've made a most almighty blunder. But the Great Dominico does not suffer from indecision and regret! ... I'm in no mood to talk now. Leave me! Come back and see me later if you need something."
The Hero left the room and ran to find the sceptre only to be halted by a woman's cry. A large old woman cried in plea.
"Someone help! Come quickly! I-It's David!"
The Hero ran urgently to find David. After leaving the building, the Hero was directed by a young girl with blue eyes in red dress and blue headscarf, tied around the front of her neck and her blonde hair was showing at the back and front.
"It's L-Leopold! H-He's got David with the sceptre!"
David cried in agony. The two felt helpless, as David was at Leopold's mercy. It was now in possession of the mystical weapon and dark magic contaminated the fiendish canine. A malevolent male voice grinned.
"Now there are only two left... You will interfere no more..."
Leopold leapt onto its former shed. It leapt even higher than an average cat and flung itself into the air. With Leopold gone, the Hero approached the near dying David.
"P-Please... Go after... S-Sir Leopold... H-He's... the only one who makes... Master Dominico... happy... Without... Sir Leo... pold, Master... Dominico would... be so... u-unhappy... Ma... ster..."
David drew his last dying breath. The Hero felt wedge between his request and the suppression of Rhapthorne or whatever that was in the staff. Footsteps approached them. Dominico came to realisation.
"W-What's happened? David? Esteemed heir to the great sage Kupas? ... Why has it taken so long for me to realise? I... I couldn't protect you... All the magic that has been in my family for generations..."
Dominico started to feel shaken and bombarded by his own actions towards David.
"My ancestors brought me and Kupas' heir together for a reason, but I... No! Just thinking about it is too painful! It's unbearable."
The famed wizard dropped prone to the ground, saddened by David's death and his harsh treatment towards him. Jessica and Trode quickly came to the Hero's side. The girl stood and watched from afar. They went back to his study. The Hero did not know what to make of David's request. Jessica's mind was finally cleared since her recovery from the fight. Dominico felt he must free himself from whatever cause that held him back from his true purpose. There was no other way out. He continued.
"I must apologise if I worried you. It hit me hard the moment I saw poor David's body. Now everything is clear. It appears I was put on this world as part of a grander design, to fulfil my family's destiny. That is, protecting the heir of one of the great sages. This has always been my duty. But somewhere along the way, my ancestors let the power go to their heads. We lost sight of our true purpose."
Dominico was surmounted by regrets and he thought of making amends for his past deed.
"... If only I realised this sooner, I could have prevented this tragedy. I ordered my servants to bury David as the heir to a great sage should be buried, but... nothing can put right the wrong I have done! I am not fit to show my face in public... Will you do me one last favour?"
The Hero felt himself in a limbo of choice whether to accept or refuse. He wanted to refuse since Dominico kept pushing and scolding David on many occasions. However, he knew the only way to go forward is to listen to his request. He took the latter option. It was painful to admit who was responsible for David's death.
"I know it was my Leopold who ended David's life. It pains me to have to ask you, but... will you destroy him for me? Will you avenge the spilt blood of the sages? That creature isn't my Leopold any more. He's being controlled by some evil magic. I know this won't make amends for my unforgivable ignorance, but it's all I can do now... And I owe you something too. For all the trouble I have caused you."
Dominico's eyes shifted to Jessica, realising she still had much to learn in the use of magic. He half heartedly offered.
"Ah, yes... I see that the girl has yet to unlock her true potential as magician. Allow me to awaken the dormant powers within you!"
A light ray shone from above, breaking the invisible shackles that held her dormant powers within Jessica, granting her newly developed powers - Kasizzle and Kacrackle. She was grateful to the magician. If she was Dominico's apprentice, who knew that she could be a gifted one, even greater than him. The Hero too was grateful for granting the girl such a gift.
"People say they saw Leopold heading north out of town. That's where you should start looking. I'm sorry to have ask this of you. I wish you the best of luck!"
I wouldn't say Alistair feared Dhoulmagus. That seems out of character. I'd more word it as he remained firm despite knowing this may well be his final moment.
@@TheSilvershadow200
While remaining firm was what we saw, I'm sure you've noticed Dhoulmagus's spell caused Alistair to be still and not being able to move an inch or so.
@@TheLatiosnlatias02 Of course. However, that wouldn't be him frozen by fear. It's the effect of the spell.