****
Raven saw them... Above Xalar, where Waron has his castle... They were... together... No! Don't go there! Naimad! Fuck... Raven! We're going!
****
Darkness slowly covered the entire nearby landscape with its cloak. The last rays of sunlight cast their light on the majestic castle built of large stone blocks. On three tall towers, which served as living quarters for servants and guardhouses of sorts, someone lit torches. The moon now took the initiative and spread its light over the sleeping world.
However, one person was awake. Naimad, torn by anger and doubt, looked down at the structure. He searched for a way in, ruling out the main gate, as it was heavily guarded by sentries and protective spells.
"Shall we begin?" A familiar voice sounded in his head.
"Yes, start with the nearest tower," the warrior said.
A large silver dragon with a man on its back flew up to the first guardhouse.
Majestic wings beat the air, lifting its heavy frame. Horn-like spikes jutted backward from its head, which was set on a short neck. It opened its jaws, revealing razor-sharp fangs, and let out a terrifying roar. A moment later, orange light erupted from its mouth, rays filtering through the gaps between its teeth.
Then it opened its mouth and released a massive fireball three times the size of Naimad's head, which flew at the unsuspecting castle inhabitants. The impact came a moment later. Most of the guardhouse collapsed instantly, and the rest engulfed itself in infernal flames.
The beast wheezed as it released such heat from its core. Naimad said, satisfied,
"Good, Izar. Relax." He patted the hard scales on its head. He knew such an attack was taking its toll on his friend. "See. You've caused chaos in their ranks.
" "Archers." "The dragon replied flatly, spitting the last of the flame from its throat.
"Where? I can't see.
" "They're emerging onto the towers. There are already several on the one on the left. "
In one of the guardhouses, archers were lighting their arrows with torches and starting
to fire at the approaching beast.
"Hold on," the dragon said suddenly, his words echoing in Naimad's mind, causing him to clutch at his neck.
Izar tilted his body to the right and soared towards the burning guardhouse. In that
second, lit arrows whistled beneath his left wing. None of them hit. Naimad held on with all his might, but at the same time, he felt himself losing his grip, leaning too far to the side.
"Balance out, or I'm about to fall!" the young man shouted, losing his grip and releasing himself with one hand.
"I told you to hold on," Izar said to his mind, slowly leveling out. Meanwhile, Naimad climbed back onto his back.
"Next time, I'll take it seriously," he said with a hint of amusement as a lit arrow flew just above his head. "Damn. They have to be stopped before I get a punch in the face." He paused, looking at one of the guardhouses. "I know. Circle around and fly right over their heads as fast as you can.
" "Why? Besides, they can hit me!" Izar said indignantly.
"I believe in you. If Raven could do it, so can you. Just don't panic when the ballast on your back wears off.
" "Fine."
The dragon veered left and circled in a large circle. A few arrows snagged its large
body, but they didn't cause any serious wounds. Flapping its powerful wings, it gathered speed, flying straight for the guardhouse. The terrified archers lay on the floor, fearing the furious beast's powerful claws might reach them.
Izar flew overhead, creating a great wind that blew out the torch. It became so dark that even the soldiers couldn't see each other. Moonlight reflected off the silver dragon's scales, making his only dragon clearly visible in the darkness.
"Damn it!" one of the archers shouted, rising from the ground and searching for his bow. "See him up there?
" "Yes!" the other replied, drawing his bow. "I'll kill him now!"
"Oh no! You won't kill anyone!" a voice said behind them.
"What...?" He didn't finish, as Naimad swung and severed his head, which flew off the guardhouse.
"Hey, what's going on?" another soldier shouted, terrified. "Who are you?
" "Come and see for yourself!" "Naimad said in a mocking voice, then kicked his victim in the stomach. The archer staggered and, unable to find a footing, fell just like his comrade's head, screaming at the top of his lungs.
The dragon slowly flew towards the warrior. Naimad was wiping his sword on
the slain soldier's clothing. Izar stared at a point on the horizon, then after a moment, said,
"Do what you must.
" "I will!" the warrior replied, then watched as the winged creature rose high above him and disappeared into the night. "I wish I had Izar's eyesight."
Naimad waved his sword in a circle and struck the hinges
of the trapdoor, which crumbled like a rotten board. He opened it and stepped into the dark corridor that led directly to the throne room... to her
...
A sudden shock shattered the silence of the throne room. A figure dressed in royal robes and holding a scepter in her right hand walked through the glow of the numerous candles and torches attached to the thick stone walls. An elegant sword with a slightly curved tip, reminiscent of a pirate's, was strapped to her side.
She was very nervous, though she tried to remain calm in this difficult situation. Every so often, she went to the tall windows on either side of the room to see what was happening outside. Another shock caused the glass to rattle ominously, heightening the fear of the unknown.
Finally, he approached the throne at the far end of the room. He climbed three steps and looked ahead. A charming girl sat on a red seat decorated with gold patterns. She gazed out at the dark landscape beyond. Her beautiful, dark brown hair was loosely braided over her shoulders. She frowned as she watched the man approach her. Her large, blue eyes gazed innocently at her friend from the Academy of Magical Arts. As she spoke, she enchanted everyone around her with her beautiful, thin voice.
"It was a bad idea," the king said in his rough voice
. "He'll kill you." The girl replied.
"That's why I say it was a bad idea." The man
, Waron, repeated. They looked into each other's eyes. "I don't want him to kill you!"
"Ksaia. He doesn't…"
The dull sound of the door slamming against the wall reached their ears. They both looked
in that direction. Waron's heart skipped a beat.
A young man stood in the doorway, a blood-dripping sword in his right hand. He had short, dark hair, spiked upwards. He wore silver armor that gleamed in the torchlight. His blue eyes, cold as the ocean's abyss, stared at the two standing by the throne. For a moment, there was a deathly silence as the two warriors eyed each other, assessing their chances in battle.
"Hide, Ksaia," Waron said to the girl, who slowly approached the window to the left of the throne and hid behind one of the two columns in the hall. As she did so, the king drew his sword, placed his scepter on the throne, and said cautiously to the young man, "You shouldn't have come here, Naimad.
" "I already know what I should and shouldn't do!" he replied in his firm but persuasive voice. "You took everything I cared about, and now you've kidnapped Ksaia. You will die for this!" He spoke the last words through clenched teeth.
"You don't understand. It's not what you think." They both watched each other like two roosters about to fight. After a moment's pause, Waron said, "I don't want to duel you. Let's settle this another way..." He didn't finish, because Naimad, as a fire adept, summoned his power and created a fireball that began to vibrate in his left hand. In a split second, his entire hand began to burn with a living flame that he couldn't even feel and that didn't harm him. Then he straightened his hand towards Waron and fired a projectile at him.
At the last moment, he managed to somersault to the side. The projectile struck the throne, which
in a matter of seconds burst into flames, illuminating the room with its glow. Naimad had already stopped burning and, sword in hand, began running towards his enemy. He prepared to repel the mage's attack.
Just before the stairs, Naimad jumped up and landed right in front of Waron. Their swords clashed with a sharp whistle. The king attacked first, attempting a sideways slash, but he was blocked. He ducked, dodging the counterstrike, the sword slicing through the air above him and striking the wall beside him.
They clashed again, like two powerful bears fighting over a fish one of them had caught. Steel clashed against steel. Sparks flew. Waron, blocking Naimad's uppercut, looked into his face. His features hardened. Anger burned in his eyes, enough to shatter rock. He executed his movements with great force and perfection. He was blinded by hatred and a thirst for revenge after what Waron had done.
His sword was of exceptional quality. The blade was slightly wavy near the hilt, and symbols were carved into the tip. Naimad, when he was at the academy, was one of the few who could infuse his sword with his own power. From then on, only he could wield it and draw strength from it. "The loss of one will rebound on the other," he always repeated this maxim. It meant that if he died, the sword would self-destruct, and if the sword was destroyed, it could have a psychological impact on him.
They broke away from the clash and resumed the fight. Behind them, they heard Ksai's cries, but they didn't care. They were focused on one thing: inflicting as much damage as possible on their enemy.
Waron was an adept of air, so he, too, summoned his own power and filled his sword with it. Ominous discharges coursed through his weapon, instilling fear in every enemy. Naimad, however, was unfazed. He struck from above, and their swords clashed again.
A sudden shock coursed through his body, and in a split second, the force of the discharge violently pushed him backward. He slammed his back against the column behind which the girl was hiding and fell to the cold floor.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered.
His fingers were a little numb, but he could still fight. He got up just in time to
He parried Varon's blow. The throne was still burning, and together with the clashing swords, it created an incredible ballet of shadows on the nearby wall.
Naimad counterattacked. He landed blows that his opponent could barely contain. Simultaneously, he began to retreat under the onslaught of these attacks toward the opposite window.
Varon watched the charging enemy with fear. He began to estimate his chances of defeating him in a fair fight less and less. But he could have set a trap for him! What an idiot he was. Now it was too late.
Naimad struck from the right, and his opponent staggered under the force of his blow. With a swift movement, he struck him in the sternum with his boot, sending Varon flying onto the parapet, choking. He swiftly struck down at the choking enemy, hoping that was the end. The blade missed by a few centimeters as the king clumsily dodged. The sword sank deep into the stone.
Waron took a deep breath and looked at his enemy.
"This fight is pointless. Do you want me to kill you?
" "We'll see who kills who," Naimad replied, not even trying to retrieve his sword from the shattered parapet.
The king took a swing and was about to attack when his opponent gripped
his sword tightly with his left hand and covered his face with his right. He summoned power and aimed it directly at the stone parapet, which exploded a split second later, sending small pebbles flying in all directions. Naimad was unharmed by them, as he wore thick armor made of silver dragon scales, which he had acquired several years earlier. Now he could easily draw his sword.
Waron, completely surprised by the attack, fell to his knees. Small drops of blood fell to the floor. When he looked up at his opponent, he saw that the stone projectiles had completely disfigured his face. Several deep gashes marked his face, and the rest was covered in small scratches.
"You will die for this!" he uttered, swallowing blood.
"That's all I'm waiting for!" Naimad retorted, approaching from a different direction.
Waron, shouting, swung his sword and struck his prepared opponent with a right.
Naimad blocked the blow, but its force momentarily knocked him off balance. The enemy wasted no time. With a swift shoulder strike, he threw Naimad to the hard floor in the center of the room. His sword flew from his hands as he tried to break his fall with his hands.
His back ached. This was the second time he'd been left on the ground because he'd ignored his opponent's strength and cunning. Now he had to improve. It was time to end this fight!
The king approached the fallen man and aimed his sword at him. Naimad decided to act. He summoned the greater part of his power and created a sheath of swirling magma around himself, almost transparent. As Waron's blade touched the edge, it began to soften and bend in all directions until it fell from the hilt. Simultaneously, the heat from the magma caused the king to drop his sword to the ground and begin blowing into his burned hand.
Naimad found his sword, picked it up, and looked around. Now he had a chance! He ran and delivered a powerful left blow. His enemy, however, was more cunning than he had expected. He raised his own protective sheath, which stopped the blow and threw Naimad's sword far into the throne room. A slight tingle ran through his fingers. As he looked at the king, he saw electrical discharges where he had struck with his sword.
"Didn't you learn anything from your previous fall?" Waron growled, blood dripping from his face onto the floor.
"I'm a slow learner." He sneered, glaring at his opponent.
"You will die!"
The king thrust his left hand toward Naimad and released a massive
electrical charge, which struck the enemy's shield with unprecedented force. With the last of his strength, Naimad raised the barrier again, and with his free hand, he aimed at Waron and began attacking him with his own power, releasing dozens of fireballs that attacked Waron's shield as forcefully as he attacked his.
Neither wanted to give up. They both knew they couldn't hold out for long. Eventually, their energy would run out and they would collapse. All the while, they stared at each other with hatred that had no outlet and was gathering in their bodies as additional strength. "I will endure," they both repeated.
Suddenly, they heard a terrifying groan. It lasted for a second, followed by a deathly silence, broken only by the sounds of fighting. Something had happened. Something bad. After that sound, Naimad's power began to fade. The bullets were losing their power, and the shell slowly began to fade.
Waron saw himself taking the lead. Now he began to believe he could defeat his most dangerous rival. The man who had disfigured his face and tried to keep him from his happy life.
At that moment, they heard the sound of a wall crumbling. They both looked up. The ceiling had collapsed! A huge hole had opened in the roof, growing larger with each passing second. Large slabs of stone and hundreds of small shards rained down on them, and they were at a loss for what to do.
Naimad made a decision. It was too late to flee. He stopped his attack and had to lower his shield to concentrate all his power on stopping the boulders in front of his head. There was no time for further thought, so he didn't anticipate that Waron would continue to attack him with his lightning. The impact sent Naimad sprawling to the floor, paralyzed, and his opponent dodged the collapsing roof at the last moment.
Huge amounts of rubble buried the body of the mage, who hadn't managed to get out of the way in time. Clouds of dust rose. Waron, seeing that the walls of his castle were about to collapse just like the roof, quickly ran to the column. He grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her towards the throne, which was slowly fading. Ksaia had a small wound on her cheek, likely caused by those stone projectiles.
"We're getting out of here!" he shouted, then slammed his hand against one of the stone blocks, which immediately moved aside, revealing a secret passage...
****
He was in a place that terrified him. He, a powerful mage, felt fear for the first time in a long time. Complete darkness enveloped him. There was no more sky or earth; only a deep blackness emanating its dark energy. He had never experienced such a feeling before. It was as if he were at the source of all the world's evil.
Before him, on the ground, he saw a circle formed by light shining from somewhere above. He didn't want to stay in this terrifying darkness any longer. He entered the circle. A pale light fell on his tired body. He remembered his fight with Varon. He tried to draw his sword from the sheath slung across his back, but it was nowhere to be found. He always felt more secure when he had it with him. Now he was alone with his fears, without a purpose or reason.
He heard footsteps. A slow thud on the strange floor echoed in his mind. He didn't know where the sound was coming from, but he sensed that the being making it wasn't friendly towards him. A quick, absurd thought flashed through his mind: I will fight! But how can you fight something you can't see, without a weapon and terrified to death? In an instant, he doubted his abilities.
The sound still reached his ears. Cold sweat broke out on his face. This could be the end, he thought. "I've died every day since I met Ksaia. One day won't make any difference. I'm ready!"
Suddenly, a man's face appeared before his eyes. She was half-hidden in darkness. Her features were sharp, her complexion as pale as a corpse's. Terrifying red eyes glowed like stars in the night sky. They held no expression. He couldn't look at them for a long time, for they pierced him with their coldness and emptiness. The stranger's face radiated incredible hostility and hatred.
Naimad stepped back, still trapped in the luminous circle. He couldn't utter a word. His hands shook, and a million thoughts raced through his mind, unfocused. Finally, he summoned his courage and said in a low voice,
"Who are you?" The stranger said nothing. The warrior's muscles tensed to the point of pain. The adrenaline pumping through his heart made his vision clear a little. He repeated his question, "Who are you, and what do you want?"
A sudden pain shot through his entire body. He had never experienced anything like it before.
It was as if bones were being pulled straight from his body. He fell to his knees. The pain vanished as quickly as it had come. Naimad panted as if he'd just run several kilometers. He gasped for air, trying to organize his thoughts.
"Ah, Naimad!" the face floating in the air said in a gruff voice. "How nice to see you! Welcome to my humble home.
" "Who are you?" the mage said through his teeth.
"Me?" He paused for a moment, then added, "Nobody. I am simply the master of this place.
" "And what is this place?" Naimad said, looking around.
"People call it different things. Some call it the abyss, others hell. I prefer the term 'Eternal Crematorium.'
" "So you are..." Damian summoned his courage and looked at the stranger's face, but he didn't see it where it had been before. Someone grabbed his arm and lifted him up. The mage stood on unsteady legs and looked back. A man in a black cloak stood behind him. His beard was stubbled. He looked at the warrior with a condescending gaze.
"I am he who gathers the remains from the Lord's table!
" "Satan!" Naimad fell back to the ground and summoned his power. "Go away!" The air suddenly became as stifling as noon in the desert. A fireball vibrated in his right hand, practically burning his skin. He threw it at the newcomer.
The man didn't even move. The ball stopped before him and slowly shrunk
in size until it disappeared completely. Naimad watched it all in stunned silence. His magic had failed. This truly was a devil's devil. Terrified, he backed away, constantly observing the stranger. What could he do? His abilities were nothing compared to the one before him. He didn't have his sword, though he wouldn't have been able to do much with it either.
A sudden impulse made him make a final effort. He stood, turned, and ran as fast as he could. He had nothing to lose. Maybe this was just a dream and he'd wake up soon. A glimmer of hope had been flickering within him ever since he'd entered this abyss. He squeezed his eyes shut and ran. Every muscle ached. He wasn't looking where he was going.
Suddenly, something caught his feet. He lost his footing, somersaulted, and slammed his back against the hard ground. He lay motionless. When he opened his eyes, he realized he was still standing in the circle of light. A bald man stood over him, his terrifying red eyes staring at him. His complexion was a gray hue. Instead of hair, large spikes protruded from his head, intensifying Naimad's fear.
"There's no escape from here!" his voice echoed, giving the impression that a different person was speaking every moment. "I'll take you to a place where I'll torment you like you've never dreamed of!
" "No!" Naimad whispered.
"What are you saying? No? Why not?" The old gods rejected you! So you are mine!
"No!" the warrior repeated, losing consciousness.
"I see... Aaaaah. Yes." After a moment's pause, he added, "I would have forgotten him. He owes me. I see what you were planning. This will be a good idea! Your life for his."
A mocking laugh echoed through Naimad's mind.
He stopped breathing at that moment. Before leaving, one more word reached his subconscious: "Come back!" Then everything lost its meaning.
Brak komentarzy:
Prześlij komentarz