A thick wave of nausea made him stumble through the double doors of the temple. His eyes scanned the circular room. Blood stained the marble floors and bodies of ministers littered the pews. What had he done? He had massacred these people while he slept.

Using his rod as a support, Kilik made his way forward to the alter. He knew what would come next. He’d had this nightmare countless time. Every time it was the same reoccurring sequence. Even his next breath became predictable. Why then was he never prepared for this?

Xianglian’s broken body leaned against the alter, falling over it as if protecting what was considered holy. Her cold hand wrapped around a small silver dagger. Blood had dried on its tip. Seeing this, his right cheek bone immediately had a reaction. He lifted his hand to the still-bleeding wound she had marked him with. The wound was deep and it seemed it would bleed eternally. He knew, even as a scar, the wound would plague him forever. It would forever remind him of the deeds he’d committed.

He fell to his knees in resolve. But it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. It wasn’t you. He could remember that night perfectly. He remembered killing off the ministers, the same ones who had taken him in as a youth. An orphan. He killed them all. Some he killed slowly and others he did away with without thought or conscience. Conscience. If only he had one.

He lifted his eyes to glance at Xianglian’s pure lifeless face. He reached out and brushed his hand across her cool ivory skin. As he did, her phantom image vanished, as did everything else surrounding him. Cursed dreams. He balled his hand into a fist. He was left alone in darkness.

The pain returned and seemed nearly unbearable. Every breath he took, every beat of his heart, sent a series of stabbing pains to his left side and his head. Before he could attempt sitting up, a hand met his good shoulder and kept him down.

“Kilik? Don’t move. You’ll only make it worse. Kilik?”

That voice...

He opened his eyes to find the room spinning and his vision unfocused. Still he recognized the young woman sitting at his bedside. “Xianghua?” His voice cracked. She seemed overjoyed to hear him speak, clapping her hands together.

“Kilik! You remember me!” She threw herself over him and embraced him. He hissed at the new pain it brought. She immediately released him. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Kilik?”

He was slow to recover from the pressure and cursed himself for it.

Feeling satisfied, Xianghua left his bedside in a hurry but returned momentarily to thrust a cup of an unknown steaming liquid at him. With Xianghua’s help he carefully managed to sit up and accept the drink.

“It does get better. Really.” Xianghua promised. All he could do was nod.

It only occurred to him within moments that he had no recollection of how or why he was now lying in an unfamiliar bed with his head and side stitched and aching.

“Xianghua,” He started but she lifted her hand to silence him.

“I know, I know. I’ll explain everything eventually but right now you need to save your strength. We can’t stay here long.”

Clueless, he thought a moment before he spoke and when he did he spoke carefully. “What are you talking about?” Eventually. She’d tell him eventually.

She tilted her head and examined his face. “You really don’t remember anything?” He attempted to pinpoint what he last remembered but his mind was scattered. The only images he found were fragments; nothing he could decipher. Seeing the strain he was taking, Xianghua shook her head and touched his shoulder in sympathy. “Don’t worry about it now. It doesn’t matter now.”

“What doesn’t? What are you not telling me?” His voice rose a pinch higher than it had been and he caught Xianghua’s flinch. For a moment they both were completely still. Kilik glanced down to see his own hand balled into a tight fist, his knuckles white. "Sorry." He said immediately and relaxed his grip. How strange for him to become so angry suddenly...

He took a slow sip of the liquid he'd been offered and grimaced. "I don't remember anything, I promise you."

Xianghua sighed, exasperated. She stood and paced slowly, troubled. "They told me your memory would likely restore itself within a few days. They said the effects of the sword can only last so long..." Her voice trailed off as Kilik's mind retaliated the truth.

Soul Edge. He remembered now the brief contact he had with the sword within the cathedral...