A gust of wind blows leaves off the ground, following by soft footsteps.
The forest thins, the density of the forest fading until a kingdom's rusted gate reveals itself. A man reaches out to push the enormous gates.
With ease, he creaked the enormous gates enough to step in. Then he wipes a speck of tarnish from his gloves with a soft sigh.
As he proceeds walking forward, a gusty breeze passes through the soulless kingdom. His hand moves up to clutch his hat from falling off his head. The gentleman tilts his head to a passing woman.
Her curtsy is perfect, but her eyes are restless, surrounded by dark rings, her pupils are pinprick, fixed on some unseen horror.
He doesn't think much about how lifeless this kingdom's interior feels despite being populated fairly well. His gaze dismissing the stares from the passing crowds of citizens of this kingdom.
The man hums along until he finally stops before a magnificent palace made of marbles, pearls and stones, now drenched in rubbish or some substance he can't quite name but see that it took away the charm it once had. The gates slowly yawns open as he steps closer, revealing a dark so thick it swallows the very air. Without hesitation, the man walks into the darkness, letting it engulf him. The gates shut close behind him.
His polished shoes click against the marble floor, sound too loud in the silence. The echoes skitter ahead of him.
As he slowly walks in the darkness, he sighs and says, "I didn't come here to consume much of your time."
Suddenly, a light falls from the ceiling like a spear that belongs to no one but pierces through the darkness to illuminate onto a figure in a perfect circle. With a few soft steps forward, the figure reveals herself.
Her gown is black and golden embroidery slithers across the fabric, patterns shifting like restless snakes. Her hair is tarnished silver, long, too sleek and too perfect.
"Dantrell Nocturne," she purrs. Her voice is a velvet knife attempting to slide under his skin. Her body stands still, like a queen demanding authority, arrogant almost. "What business do you have to attend in my castle?"
She doesn't move. The light does. It slithers up her body, holding her like a relic in a museum no one visits.
At the mention of his name, Dantrell takes off his hat, putting it against his chest as he steps closer, with a slight hint of concern in his tone, he says, "A bird told me that the heir of the third castle is on his way. You wanted this, didn't you?" He tilts his head to give her a glare of distrust.
She chuckles and says with sarcasm in her tone, "Yes, we'll have the world to our name in no time. Everything is going as intended, Dantrell."
Dantrell, with a conflicted mind, looks away, he steps back slightly and mutters, "I'm not certain." He glances at her and adds, "There will be consequences. I am warning you, my lady."
The queen's lips twist into a more vicious grin, her thin and pale hand lifting towards Dantrell, pointing her shallow finger at him as she says, "You are pathetic, Dantrell. Have you forgotten the vows we once whispered together? Now you are drowning in concerns that have no meaning."
"Don't make a fool of yourself. I remember. I also remember what happens to puppets when the strings snap." Dantrell says, his tone filled with bitterness now. "Do not drop a tear when your world crumbles before you could conquer it." Then he chuckles, realising something that makes him feel pity, "Oh, why would you feel concerned? After all, this is your only hope to have a meaning in your pathetic existence."
The queen tilts her head, the light slowly illuminates lesser and lesser until it's gone and the only thing left is darkness. She then says, "The plan is already in motion. Our lord's design is perfect."
"And I must defy the lord and you." Dantrell replies as he puts his hat back on his head and turns away from her. "I apologize if I am being rude. I simply can't let fools play with fire and burn themselves to ashes before they can even realize."
She gazes at his back but it's too dark to figure out if she's even looking at him, her voice echoes in the darkness, "You… You are going to try and kill him, yes?"
Dantrell starts walking away. No reply, only a mutter to himself, "I will… I will feed him to monsters."
As the gate's slow open a bright light from outside rushes inwards along with wind, illuminating and flowing towards him, his reddish brown hair makes waves as if attempting to escape his hat. He puts his hands in his black coat's pockets as he steps out of the gates.
…
As the evening slowly approaches, the cloudy and grimy sky becomes darker and darker above the forest. Footsteps crunches dry branches and leaves. Orien's armor makes metallic noises with each movement and right behind him follows Kendaris, his eyes fixed on something far before him.
A faint orange-yellow illuminating into the evening sky, he sighs and says, "Is that a town ahead?"
Isamu, right beside him, squints her eyes and murmurs, "How can Ken see something from so far away so easily?"
Kendaris doesn't reply but from behind them both, Morvaine speaks, "Vampires have darkvision. The darker the night becomes, the sharper their eyes perceive."
Isamu blinks a few times before she nods, acknowledging this new information. As they move closer to the town ahead, the strong wind waves across the forest, Kendaris's hand moves to tighten the strap around his torso that holds his staff to his back, he still hasn't figured out how to use its power but he deep down knows, he is going to learn and master it one day.
The town ahead gets louder as they move closer. It glows like a jar of fireflies. Right before the town is a small bridge made of cobblestone that is glided by lantern light illuminating from the town. Even the river below flickers with reflected lantern light. As the four cross the bridge, footsteps making boots against stone noises, they enter the town. The scent of baking of bread and woodsmoke wraps around Kendaris as he walks, but the cobblestone street beneath his boots are worn smooth by centuries of hurried footsteps. For an unforgettably beautiful town, it has very few people on its streets, most are neatly dressed.
Kendaris slowly moves from behind Orien to besides him, then he feels Isamu patting his shoulders and whispering, "The town is so nice."
Kendaris turns his head to glance at her and he gives her a nod, before looking away. She's right. The town is beautiful and unlike anything he has ever seen before. He rarely went outside during his stay with Orien and most of the time he spent reading old dusty books he found in wooden boxes that were covered by spider's webs.
Orien stops walking and turns around, the others stop too. Kendaris looks up at him, Isamu stops but is too busy looking at the magnificent city around them and Morvaine steps forward from behind and asks, "Is there anything you have to do in this town, Orien?"
Orien turns away to a direction of another path that is between two large shops. Kendaris glances at the path, noticing how dark and eerie it seems.
Then, Orien says, "You can find resources here to settle down with a camp outside of this town. But, do not stay too close to the town. The guards here are not very kind."
Before he walks towards the mysterious path and slowly disappears in the darkness.
Without waiting, Kendaris, Isamu and Morvaine continues walking.
The street they are walking on splits the town into two as it leads from one side of the town to another, the exit. The smell of bread becomes heavier until Isamu fails to resist. Her hand moving to Kendaris's and gently intertwining fingers as she says, "Ken, we need to buy some bread for the night."
Kendaris turns his head slightly to glance at her. He too feels a little tempted by the smell of bread. So, he nods and says, "If you think so."
Isamu pulls Kendaris with herself while Morvaine stops to look around.
The two enters a bread shop, the smell completely engulfs them. Isamu looks for the freshest breads, her ears twitching and her nose wincing like a fox searching for food in the forest. Kendaris leans in closer to Isamu from behind and whispers, "I would like to see if I can buy anything for myself. If you don't mind."
Isamu turns her head to glance at him and she giggles softly, then says, "Don't get lost."
Before she lets go of Kendaris's hand, letting him walk off on his own and she continues looking through the well-preserved breads, perfectly placed on across multiple tables and shelves.
As Kendaris opens the door of the bread to leave, he bumps into a man causing the man's hat to almost fall off but Kendaris catches the hat before it could fall to the ground. Then he lifts it up with one swift motion and hands it to the man. With a soft chuckle, the man looks up and down Kendaris's whole figure before he says, "Young man, I am Dantrell Nocturne."
Kendaris nods, not really sure why the man seems so enthusiastic. He notices Dantrell's appearance, a man dressed in fancy red suit with a long black coat on top, brown eyes, reddish brown hair and a smug.
Dantrell extends his hand as a gesture of politeness but it feels like a gesture suggesting he's amused for some particular reason Kendaris can't quite understand. Either way, without thinking much, Kendaris takes the man's hand, feeling the expensive glove he wears, made of leather and polished to perfection.
"I… I am Kendaris Val'Taka." Kendaris says, trying to maintain eye-contact with Dantrell.
Suddenly, Dantrell puts one of his hands in his inner-pocket of the black coat he's wearing and pulls out a circular, heavy, made of steel, well-designed clock. His other hand pulls away from Kendaris's as he says, "So, Kendaris, I am a very rare businessman. Not many of the people of this world keep track of time but I make sure they do. Would you like to buy a clock? I can give you one that looks just like you."
Kendaris swallows, not sure if he should buy or not. However, from the sheer urge to be polite, he nods and says, "Interesting. I would like to see."
Dantrell chuckles underneath his breath and murmurs, "Of course" as he reaches back into his coat's pocket to pull out a clock. Made of steel but polished and blackened. A design of a red dragon that looks like it's carefully painted with blood. Looks elegant and terrifying at once. Kendaris closely looks at it. He really finds it hard to resist so he reaches for his pouch.
"Can that be two silvers?" Kendaris asks.
Dantrell shrugs his shoulders slightly and says, "Sure, I can let some off for a handsome young man like you." He says as he takes two silver coins from Kendaris and hands the clock to Kendaris before he turns away and slowly walks to another direction but before he disappears he says, "Have a good night, Kendaris Val'Taka."
Kendaris nods and says, "You too" but his voice doesn't raise enough making him think if Dantrell even heard him. He glances down at the clock on his palm, the arms tick as they indicate it's exactly eleven.
From behind, a little away, Morvaine stands, watching Kendaris. He saw what happened and he tilts his head, his eyes flickering with suspicion.
Then, the bakery's door opens and Isamu steps out with hands full of bags filled with breads.
Then, they continue their walk through the town to the other side. As they arrive closer to the edge, Kendaris turns his head to look back at the magnificent town full of mansions that are filled with windows that lit up with lanterns and candles to look like stages of their own.
With footstep noises turning from boots against cobblestones to boots against soft grasses and mud, they walk into the woods. The town's lights from behind slowly fade as they move deeper and deeper until they step across a massive oak tree and a perfect open area beside it.
They begin setting up their tents. Kendaris and Isamu work in comfortable silence, their hands brushing as they pass robes, their shoulders bumping as they hammer stakes into the soft earth.
Once the two tents are settled, one for Morvaine and one for Isamu and Kendaris, Isamu stretches, then ducks into their tent without a word. Kendaris hesitates, just a breath, before following. Inside, Isamu is already munching on the bread she brought from that town. She then quickly tears hers in half and hands Kendaris a piece. The bread is dense, slightly sweet with honey. For a moment, neither speaks. The only sounds are rustle of cloth, the distant call of a night bird and the shared rhythm of chewing. When the last crumbs are gone, Isamu yawns and lays down on her soft mattress. Crumbs still clinging to her lower lip. Kendaris extends his hand slightly to point it out but Isamu is a bit confused at what he's pointing at. Kind of weirded out but when he sighs and reaches out to carefully and delicately move his finger across her lower lip, Isamu's face becomes a faint pink as she hides her face against her pillow.
In the other tent, Morvaine sits silently on his mattress, a scroll unfurled across his lap. His lips move in a hushed chant, the words low, deliberate, ritualistic. As the final line leaves his mouth, he exhales slowly, closes his eyes and whispers, "May Death be our shield."
As the night slowly progresses, Kendaris finds it hard to sleep as alw ays. So, he sits up slowly on his mattress and looks at the clock. He had wrapped it in cloth as he feels it's something expensive, too elegant to keep out. He slowly crawls out of the tent, but before he does, he glances back to look at Isamu, she's asleep, her body wrapped around her pillow. As Kendaris slowly walks a little further from the tent, he notices the starry night sky, an owl staring at him from the large oak tree. He sighs and then his boots crunches on a branch. Then, slowly, he starts to feel like the air is becoming heavier.
Suddenly, Kendaris just freezes where he stands as if the flow of time is being interrupted. He first can't understand what's happening. His thoughts are alive but everything around him, including his body is just stuck.
Then, out of nowhere a bear-like creature barges out from the woods towards Kendaris, the creature almost too dark to be named. It's eyes flashes red as it attempts to strike Kendaris with its claws but before it is able to land its enormous claws on him,
THUD!
falls to the ground and time lurches forward. The owl screeches. The wind gasps back to life.
Morvaine slowly steps out of his tent and walks over to Kendaris. Already dressed and his scroll in his hand, too prepared, as he asks, "Are you okay, Kendaris?"
Kendaris stares at the shadowy stain seeping into the grass where the beast had fallen, confused and not sure what to say so he just murmurs, "What is this?"
Morvaine stops beside Kendaris and looks at where the odd creature was, it left a dark trail on the grass as it disappeared.
"This is not ordinary." He says. His gaze doesn't weaver.
Then a rustle comes from one of the tents as Isamu stumbles out, visibly sleepy, rubbing her eyes as she asks, "What was that noise?"
The owl on the oak tree's branch flies off.
Then—
A sound like glass cracking. The space ten paces ahead splinters, jagged lines of golden light tearing through reality as a rift yawns open. From the rift, a man steps forward, his polished shoes touching the grass without a sound. The rift slowly closes and disappears, his black coat blending into the night. His reddish brown hair is windswept. His eyes coldly and resolutely locked onto Kendaris.
Kendaris stiffens. His breath catches. He knows his face.
Dantrell Nocturne.
Dantrell slips his hands in his trouser pockets and smirks at the sight of Morvaine. His voice silk-wrapped in venom as he says, "Seems a filthy Veshtar's still crawling around. How'd you survive the slaughter of your cursed clan… or was it a cult?" His voice silk-wrapped in venom.
The old man's grip on his scroll tightens. Wrinkles around his eyes deepen. His voice ragged with age but shimmering with restrained fury, cuts through the dark, "What do you want?"
Behind Kendaris, Isamu instinctively moves to clutch his arm, her hands shivering. Dantrell lets out a soft chuckle and says, "I am here to end Kendaris. Attempt to stop me, you go down with him."
Then, he raises his hand in a sharp and practiced manner as his hands glow golden and a rift tears open midair. Shrieking as something monstrous claws its way out. A twisted, shadow-cloaked beast with all fangs and fury lets out a terrifyingly loud roar.
Dantrell points his finger at Kendaris, "Go."
The beast lunges forward but then it's momentum dies mid-pounce.
Kendaris flinches.
The beast crumples, lifeless, landing inches from Kendaris's boots with a thud. He stares, his eyes flicker with disbelief as his hands slowly reaches back, finding Isamu's.
Dantrell raises a brow, amused, "Filthy Veshtar, how many times are you going to play your tricks? Maybe I should take care of you first."
With that said, he starts stepping closer, slow at first, then picks up speed, breaking into a run. He knows directly attacking would kill him instantly so he clapped his hands together and the air fractures to snap multiple rifts open and flashes golden as multiple wolf-like shadowy creatures jump out, howling as they descend towards Morvaine.
Kendaris and Isamu turn and sprint toward their tent, diving through the flap just as the ground trembles behind them.
Dantrell slowly steps closer and closer to Morvaine who stands his ground and defends himself from the hideous wolf-like creatures with a dagger, plunging it into one of the creatures mouth when it tries to bite his arm, it lets out a wet gurgle before collapsing. The other two attempt to claw and bite on Morvaine from behind but falls to the ground before they could, motionless.
A gust of wind blows through the forest and leaves dance across the ground as Morvaine yanks his blade free and straightens.
Dantrell eagerly moves towards him, saying, "Everytime something attempts to kill your or your fellows, that something meets its end but how many times can you protect yourself with this trick, Veshtar?"
Dantrell chuckles as he lifts up his hand and shows Morvaine his palm before blossoming a rift right on the palm of his hand to shoot an otherworldly golden light right on Morvaine.
Luckily, Morvaine quickly lifts his hand up and creates a bright white barrier but it doesn't prevent him from being blasted off his feet as the magical barrier shatters and he gets thrown a few paces back, crashing against his own tent with a loud noise.
Dantrell's stands tall, golden light flickers in his palm before it slowly fades off. He then shifts his gaze to the other tent.
"Boy must've fleed." He murmurs. "Still… he won't leave behind what's his."
He closes his eyes. A quiet stillness settles over him as his mind reaches to connect with an object of his own making. Then, a faint buzz in his ear. His eyes snap open.
He turns around. Kendaris stands several paces away, arm extended, an elegant clock clenched tightly in his hand. Their eyes lock as Kendaris crushes the clock with sharp crack with his bare hand.
Dantrell smirks and says, "You are clever."
Kendaris's gaze then slowly lingers to Morvaine, dust and blood in the air around the tent that he crashed into. His chest tightens at a thought, Dantrell didn't come for Morvaine. Or isamu. He came for him.
"You can track people using your own hand-made clocks, huh?" Kendaris's voice cold now, stripped away from any warmth.
Dantrell then begins stepping closer and closer to Kendaris, deliberate steps. He tilts his head and says, "Clever won't save you."
Kendaris's hand reaches to his waist, fingers curling around the hilt of his dagger as the distance between him and Dantrell tightens.
Suddenly, Isamu moves into the distance between them and with all built up momentum throws her leg up to land a high kick straight towards Dantrell's face. Her foot connects with a sharp crack but Dantrell doesn't even flinch. He barely tilts his head, his expression unmoved, as if she kicked a statue. He then lifts his hand to slam Isamu's torso with the back of his wrist. Isamu staggers back, air leaves her lunges, eyes wide, heart pounding.
Kendaris's heart spikes as Isamu stumbles back. In a blur, he closes the distance. He sees it, hundreds of gaps in Dantrell's stance. With a swift motion he drives his dagger through the air toward the man's side, fueled by flickers of fury.
Dantrell barely reacts. His coat tears and skin parts but then his arm lashes out. The back of his hand crashes into Kendaris's face like a sledgehammer, sending his feet off the ground and flying, crashing into dirt and grass.
Before Kendaris can breathe, he feels it. He lifts his hand and sees it. Strings of blood, thin and trembling, stretched from his fingertips all the way back to Dantrell's wound. He swallows and yanks his hand back with force and with a thunderous crack, Dantrell is ripped from the earth and flung across the clearing, slamming into a tree, so fast the sound echoes across the clearing.
For a second, Kendaris glances at his own hand, eyes showing disbelief. He watches as crimson threads retreat into the air like smoke. Slowly, he plants a hand on the ground and pushes himself up.
Isamu's form shifts in the corner of his vision. She's moving, wincing and trying to rise. Without thinking, he steps in front of her.
He then reaches out to help her slowly get on her feet. His face seems visibly concerned and it catches Isamu's eyes. She smiles weakly and says, "I am okay, I am okay."
A beat of silence. Then, a voice cuts through the thinning dust, smooth and unshaken, "Hm. Was that The Sangui's Requiem? Never thought I'd witness it."
The mist of debris clears as Dantrell steps forward through an unsettling haze. He brushes off his shoulder with a slow, deliberate motion.
Kendaris swallows and his fist clutches around his dagger as he slowly takes a stance, not out of confidence but out of resolve. Isamu steps behind him, both of her hands clasped to her chest in fear, her body trembling.
Dantrell chuckles at Kendaris's bravery, then he says, "It was foolish of you to defend yourself. Fine, now witness what I am truly capable of."
He raises his hand up in the air, then the earth behind him explodes into golden bright rays shooting all across the sky and the forest shakes like it is struck by an earthquake. Beams pierce into the sky as fingers of a god rises skywards from the large rift on the ground. As it rises further above, it emerges to be a colossal hand, it's golden skin etched with runes that shimmers like dying stars, knuckles crack like thunder and fingers are each size of a tree.
Kendaris looks up at the massive hand that emerged before him, his face becomes paler and hopelessness consumes him. Isamu wraps her arms around his as a strong wind blows outwards from divine-looking hand.
As the enormous fingers uncurl completely and reveals its palm, perfectly golden and has grids that seems to pulse brightly with an ancient power.
Dantrell then raises his finger at Kendaris and the enormous divine hand vibrates with an uncanny force, causing the ground below them to shake violently. Entire trees wrench from their roots and tobble. The ground shatters like glass. The hand itself slowly becomes brighter and brighter until an eyelid shaped rift snaps open right in the middle of its palm and unleashes a beam with a bright flash of golden straight upon Kendaris and Isamu.
Kendaris doesn't move. His arms around Isamu, shielding her with the only thing he has left, that is, himself.
As the beam slowly engulfs them, descending downwards, it collides with something wreathed in violet light. With one swing, it redirects the near divine energy skywards. The redirected energy spirals out of control and an explosion that ignites a firestorm of celestial gold, a sunburst of destruction paints across the clouds. In seconds, the light slowly fades but faint streaks of divine fire across the sky can still be seen.
As the last echoes of the explosion ripple throughout the forest, golden light rains down in soft embers. Wind sweeps through the clearing. Then he stands, Orien.
His back turned to Kendaris and Isamu. Violet glow still hums faintly around him, trailing from the steel of his armor. His attention solely on Dantrell. Then, Orien slowly lifts his head and his helm's eye-opening glows violet.
Kendaris stands frozen. He is stunned by everything that has happened. His gaze locks onto the armored figure before him.
His voice barely whispers as a name slips from his mouth, "Orien…"
This isn't over yet, Kendaris thinks as he turns his head to see Isamu.
She lies motionless on the ground, her limbs curled inward, face streaked with dust. Immediately he drops to her side, reaches out to pull her closer. Fingers trembling as he checks. She is breathing, shallow but steady.
A warmth of relief spreads through his chest. He then carefully picks her up and the first instinct he gets is to run but, for a second, he hesitates, a deep sense of shame, feeling as if he's a coward. Suddenly, another thought rises in his mind, clearer and louder, he moves. He is not running for himself but for her.
With Isamu in his arms, he darts across the fractures on the ground.
Ahead, he notices a half-collapsed tent flap in the wind. Immediately, he approaches it to find Morvaine, injured and almost unconscious. He quickly kneels and lowers Isamu onto his lap. He then reaches out, resting his hand on the old man's shoulder. He gives it a gentle shake as he says, "Are you okay, sir? Are you there?"
Morvaine stirs and slowly sits up, eyes blink open, glazed in pain but alive. He glances at Kendaris and then far ahead. Toward Orien and Dantrell.
Dantrell gazes at Orien, half-amused and half-furious. He smirks, his brow twitches with frustration. Then he steps forward and says, "Violethorn, never thought I would face the legendary armored man himself."
Orien, without a single word, leaps several paces forward in a blur of black and violet. His movement so fast that wind gushes across the area, flattening grasses. He stops just a breath away from Dantrell, towering over him like a monument of steel and silence. From beneath the helm, his voice rumbles low and cold, "Flee or I won't show any mercy."
Dantrell's foot slides back, involuntarily. His eyes flicker with something that came from deep within, fear.
Then, he chuckles weakly and leaps high, onto one of the outstretched fingers of the massive divine-like hand as he shouts, "The heir of the third castle must die and there is nothing to stop me from doing so, not even you. You think just because you are called the strongest man living in Vareth, you can stop me? I had been hiding myself in the shadows, knight!!"
Suddenly, before he gets the chance to comprehend, a tremor ripples through the almost-divine hand. Thin glowing lines, almost invisible, begin to spread across the surface. Cuts that are clean and impossible.
A heartbeat later, the hand shatters, each section collapsing in slow graceful ruin. Orien had already moved.
Dantrell lands on the ground lightly on his feet and swiftly moves his hand, slicing the air before him. A rift opens, golden and lively with chaotic energy.
But before he can reach in, Orien appears before him in a blink with his longsword drawn and pointed downward in a silent warning., pulsing purple, ready to strike Dantrell down.
From the golden rift, emerges a hilt, floating and waiting. Dantrell grabs it with an unbothered smirk at Orien, he rips the hilt from the rift to reveal a glowing blade. It's almost like pure white light forged into the form of a blade. Then, his voice silk over steel as he says, "I present to you the fang of the queen of thousands of monsters. My pocket dimension is an infinitely large space where anything that is considered disastrous thrives."
He lifts his new weapon, leveling its tip towards Orien as he declares, "You stand no chance."
Orien steps forward, no words, just his longsword slowly raising, angled forward, ready. Dantrell lunges forward, his blade slices through air, aimed to strike Orien from the side but the knight parries cleanly with his longsword, intercepting the blow with a metallic hiss. Then, Orien quickly swings from the left as a counterattack, a sweeping cleave from the left but, Dantrell leaps, narrowly jumping over the strike before landing light on his feet.
Unexpectedly, Orien doesn't pause, he surges forward in a blur with his longsword howling through the air with violet. Dantrell swings the fang of the queen in a glowing arc. The blades collide. Light explodes, a blinding shockwave bursts from the point of impact, erupting across the forest. Leaves rip free from nearby trees and ground cracks beneath them.
Dantrell recoils and crashes back into a tree. He gasps and then lifts his hand to see his blade completely shattered. His eyes widen in disbelief and he slowly begins to rise up.
Orien approaches with slow and measured steps. Desperation claws at Dantrell's mind. He raises his palm to the sky. Golden sparks crackle as he attempts to tear open another rift but then…
SHING
In a flash of violet, his arm is gone. Cleanly severed from his shoulder.
Without glancing to see how much of him has been completely sliced off, Dantrell leaps away from Orien like a wounded animal. His remaining arm tears the air beside himself to open a rift. He reaches in and from it, he pulls out a golden, glowing, slimy creature that squirms in his grasp before he slams it against his severed shoulder. Instantly, the thing fuses with him. Burrows in. In seconds, the creature reshapes into a grotesque new arm, still glowing and pulsing unnaturally.
Dantrell lunges, fist clenched, his new arm gleaming with golden malice. Orien doesn't flinch, he catches his punch midair, then spins using his momentum before hurling him through the air.
Dantrell crashes against a tree's gnarled trunk. He coughs and scrambles up, dizzy. Then he pauses to glance, his arm is gone. He looks forward. Orien stands, still as stone, holding the writhing golden parasite in one gauntleted hand. Without a word, a pulse of violet flame ignites from his palm. Instantly, the creature convulses once, then dissolves into dark smoke.
Dantrell stumbles back and his back presses against the tree. He swallows, fear chilling down his spine as he raises his only remaining arm towards Orien. A rift opens in his palm and light erupts, blinding and instant. It slams against into Orien with a thunderous crack that splits the forest air. For a moment Dantrell's shoulders sag but then the smoke clears, Orien steps forward, untouched and unbothered.
Dantrell gasps and out of desperation, he fires a second beam. A searing lance of light that rips across air, aimed dead center at Orien's chest.
In an instant, Orien vanishes. The beam keeps going, unstoppable. It strikes a mountainside far beyond the treeline and the explosion that follows is cataclysmic. A radiant detonation swallows the horizon, melting stones and trees in a wave of white-hot ruin.
Dantrell blinks in confusion. Then, a shadow falls over him. He turns.
Orien stands beside him. Perfectly still and not even a scratch.
His voice is low and cold, "I get hit only once."
Before Dantrell can react, Orien drives his sword through his heart like it always belonged there.
Dantrell coughs, blood spilling down his chin. His knees buckle but he doesn't fall, instead his lips twist into a smirk and he speaks through a shaky tone, "Damn you… Violethorn… I am not done yet." his eyes glints with something darker than pain.
He reaches out, puts his shaky hand on Orien's chest.
In an instant, a massive rift tears open behind Orien. A force impossibly strong pulls at him. Black and golden, hole in reality itself.
Through the fractured forest, Kendaris stumbles forward, Isamu slumped against his shoulder. His eyes lift just in time to see the scene unfold. Morvaine, standing beside him, throws out a hand. An invisible energy shrimmers to prevent Orien from being pulled in but it was too late, with a loud noise Orien gets consumed by the rift, into a dimension that is a living nightmare.
The old man growls, voice raw, "No-"
Kendaris's eyes widen as he shouts, "ORIEN!"
Dantrell chuckles, his chest bleeding out as Orien was able to take his longsword with him when consumed by the rift. Then, his body begins to glow a bright golden. He lifts his only trembling arm to the night sky. The glow intensifies.
Dantrell's voice shouts, "I couldn't kill you but this is the least I can do!"
Light explodes outwards from his body. Kendaris pulls Isamu inside his cloak with himself, protecting her. Morvaine throws his both arms out, forcing a shield into place, a dome shimmering energy closes around them as the golden light erupts, flooding the forest like a second sun being born.
Dantrell laughs one final time, then vanishes in the blinding flood.
The blinding golden light consumes everything in sight and then, silence.
A gust slams against Kendaris's face causing him to gasp. The heat is gone, replaced by something far worse. Razor-sharp wind howls across an endless stretch of white nothingness. Ice whips through the air like knives. Snow lashes down, blurring the world as he desperately wraps his cloak tighter around himself and Isamu, her lips blue, her skin pale. Her head rests against his chest, barely conscious.
Beside him, Morvaine collapses to his knees, groaning but it's muffled by the hisses of the loud blizzard. Morvaine's arms, twisted, charred, nerve damaged and barely moving from holding up a shield that prevented a flood of incomprehensible energy consuming them.
The storm howls louder. The snow starts to pile around them. Wind cuts deeper and the sky grows darker.
Kendaris gazes into the painful whiteness that had consumed them.
From the heart of the storm, a shadow moves.
Not wind.
Not animal.
Just approaching.
TO BE CONTINUED IN VOLUME 2.