Book One: Fate
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Chapter Twenty Five: Apocalypse
Leon rode close to King Torra Nega on his right side. On the king’s left sat the newly appointed Knight Commander of the surviving forces of Atra, Xeno’s successor. The three of them had pulled ahead of the massed survivors of the siege of Tentra to the top of a nearby slope which provided an overlook at the city. With a considerable lack of steeds for troops most walked slowly on foot and were almost three full miles behind.
Tentra was engulfed in an unnatural darkness and was being savaged by a fierce wind storm and pounding rain. Cloud’s as black as the previous night loomed over the city limits in an almost perfect circle. The darkness cut off the warmth of day that touched upon the three onlooker’s shoulders. High above them the sun slowly melted the snow beneath them while no more than a few miles ahead a huge rain storm racked their city.
He remembered Tylor and Joel’s account of a strange powerful storm that turned their quiet village to rubble and that others on different parts of the island heard nothing and were unaffected. The attackers of Tentra had no doubt employed some powerful magic to do such a thing. If they had in their power the ability to raise the long dead then it was more than possible they could control the elements. It was simple enough to encase the essence of an element inside a sphere; perhaps they used a similar method.
Regardless of the obviously hazardous conditions laid out before them, Torra seemed adamant to continue to drive the surviving force back into the capital to retake it from the aggressors. The young king was bordering on stupidity, or suicide; perhaps both. But Torra would not acknowledge anything Leon said until he proved that he is willing to protect him, “…better than Leonard was guarded…” to quote the new king’s exact words.
A powerful battle was taking place within Tentra’s now shaky walls. Even from that distance Leon could feel the battle. Fresh smoke rising and being swept away in the strong winds was proof enough of that, but the two powers fighting seemed even and neither was holding back. It was possible that one of them, Karen, Tylor, or Joel, had discovered how to tap into their sleeping power and was now trying to face Tai at his full strength. Whoever it was, they seemed to have an equal chance of victory or defeat, but Tai had boasted on many occasions that he had defeated Destined at full power.
If one of Leon’s friends were now at full power, a power which matched Tai toe to toe, then the Sect must rely on tactics he has devised over the years. Tai was not one to use underhanded tactics if it could be helped, such moves seemed to anger him, but that did not mean he was not a good battle strategist. Up till then he had not required to think, his strength was enough to cast all those who opposed him down. Still, his frame of mind had become more erratic and confused after rebirth, even to the degree that it would stop his thinking process. That would be the hope of his opponent; blind Tai with anger as he had tried to.
Anger was a powerful emotion, there was no doubt, but it was a dangerous one as well. Logical thinking suffers when the mind loses reason due to immense anger. Skill is also affected. That was one of the lessons taught to Leon during his training, each emotion had an effect on performance in battle and very few were positive.
Isumail’s words to Leon suddenly sprung back into his mind. They had met late one night in secret away from the others; it had been shortly after Leon’s testing.
“So then, what have your tests revealed?” he had asked.
“It is as I expected, you are a Destined,” Isumail replied.
The news had shocked him, it meant so many things. It confirmed that Leonard Nega was a Destined, that the king had lied to Karen and the others, and cast away any care for taking up the battle against the Sect once more. Leon felt it necessary to tell Isumail everything on that night, but made him swear not to tell another soul.
“Leon Sansec. That is your name, your mother’s maiden name. But Leonard Nega is your father… Yes, I see it now. I had the privilege to meet the king some time ago; if he had not a full beard and face shrouded in shadow I doubt he would look that much older than you. You have the same eyes, my young friend… and the same faults,” Isumail had said.
“What do you mean?” Leon asked.
“Leonard trained here once. But he like, many before him, grew tired of the fighting. They all had children and beautiful wives, they decided they would not fight any more and one day vanished to take on their new lives. But the Sect would not give in so easily and continued to hunt them all down. Leonard surely knew of Zan and the others falling and yet he did not come out of his hiding. The mightiest men in the land under his control and he did not trust in them enough to ask for their protection. He did not ask his dearest friend, Commander Xeno, or even his own son, the mighty Demon Hunter.”
“I do not see what your point is, Isumail.”
“My point is that you have inherited more than his power! You do not trust anyone but yourself. It is natural; your life is shrouded in mystery, how can you be sure who is truthful and who is not? The only thing you can be sure of is that you will be truthful to yourself, so you do not reach out for help, quite the opposite in fact; you offer it to others while at the same time trying to achieve power and respect. You stayed with Tylor almost constantly since you met him, you wanted to help him,” the old monk said.
“No,” Leon sighed. “…I used Tylor to my own ends. If I went with him I would find Tai. I wanted to fight him, to prove the strength that Karen doubted in me.”
“It is just as your father would have done in his day. But if you continue on this path you will lead an unhappy life and will eventually grow tired of being alone and hunted. You must trust in your comrades and open up to them. You are of royal birthright; you may one day have to lead this kingdom to war. Who better to have at your side than your dearest friends?”
“What about Torra? My brother…”
“You do not open up to him for a different reason; you fear his rejection. You have never had family to be with. You must call your own father sire and cannot even look him or your brother in their eyes when you kneel before them. You may think it does not affect you, but it does, and because of your training it is building up inside of you. You are killing yourself, my young friend, and you do not even realize it.”
Leon looked over to his brother sitting confidently on top of his gallant looking steed. One hand was placed over his eyes as he scanned the horizon. Perhaps Torra was hiding his feelings as well. They looked upon what had once been a beautiful magnificent city but by the time the squall ended most of it would be in rubble, yet the new king showed no emotion of it. Leon was taught to both conceal and read emotions, but without knowing Torra’s persona as a whole it was hard to tell if he was just being brave or was in denial.
“You should send scouts,” a voice said from behind them. “Noblemen who leave the safety of their army some miles behind are very foolish.”
Torra, Leon, and the new Knight Commander turned to look at the speaker. They looked like Tai with similar dark cloth concealing hard armor below and a mask hiding all but the figures pure black eyes. He was smaller in stature compared to Tai and less muscular. He stood in a similar pose to the other Sect; arms crossed over chest and he was completely confident in speech and stride.
Looking past the Sect’s shoulder, Leon could only barely see the rest of the remaining forces of Atra marching together towards their position. If no action hastened their advance it would still take them some time to reach the hill on which they stood.
“Is this the one that did it? Is this Tai?” Torra asked as he dismounted and drew a short sword out from its scabbard (which was attached to the side of the horse).
The hilt of the new king’s sword was gold and jewel incrusted with the royal seal in its center. This was the sword carried by the rightful heir to the throne of Atra; the royal blade Escander, rumored to be indestructible.
“I am Luther and I bring your death,” the Sect said loud and clear.
Leon quickly dismounted and positioned himself in front of his brother and the Knight Commander. He shouted at them to get back on their horses and join the main force while he kept the Sect busy. Torra pushed him aside and took up a fighting position. The Knight Commander began to follow, but the new king stopped him and ordered that he go get reinforcements. The commander quickly sat back up atop his horse and sped past them. The sect, Luther, made no attempt to stop the knight. Leon drew Raziel and walked round to the Sect’s right side while Torra stayed straight in front.
“Strange,” Luther muttered. “I cannot sense my likeness in either of you, yet at the same time I feel something about both. Could this be the recreation that Kain warned us of?” He then said louder, “Come and fight me, I will test her latest creations!”
“Torra, please stay back and let me handle this!” Leon pleaded with his brother.
King Torra Nega did not react. As part of the former prince’s teachings he received around twelve hours of training a week in combat with a sword, and was presented with Leonard’s old gold hilted blade on his sixteenth birthday. At best, Torra was an amateur with a blade. There was no chance he would be on par with a Sect, even one who seemed smaller and weaker than Tai.
Luther raised one hand flat into the air as small halo of purple energy appeared around it. Suddenly, it shot high into the sky and began to grow into a huge circle of flame. After a moment hovering the flaming circle crashed back down onto the ground surrounding the three warriors who were now stuck within the flaming parameter. The purple flames licked high making jumping out or in impossible. The Sect was cutting off any chance of retreat and back up from the Atra knights if they got there fast enough.
Nothing around the flames were burnt, the dark embers seemed to brush off the grass and grit as if it wasn’t there. Even the snow seemed to simply part from it but not melt. And then, with a cry, Luther summoned his Aura and was consumed with an equally bright light. When the flash subsided Luther stood ready for battle with the Aura all around him like he was standing in the center of a fire and the Aura were the flames.
Leon did not wait for Torra to advance and charged at Luther’s side, Raziel in hand ready to strike. As one end of Raziel reached Luther, the Sects elbow rose. The wood crafted of enchanted bark shattered on contact into two halves. Luther followed up with a swift punch to the stomach knocking Leon a few meters away from him. The force was like nothing Leon had felt before; he could not move he was so badly winded. Luther seemed weaker than Tai, it was unimaginable that he could do such a thing without effort. Leon cast his gaze on the two halves of his beloved weapon sitting at the Sects feet. The gift from his master was gone, not even the powerful enchanted wood from which it was crafted was enough to hold back the force of a Sect’s Aura. Could Tai have done that at any time during their duel? Had he been playing with Leon all along?
“Surprised?” Luther laughed. “I will not play with my pray as Tai does. I will hold nothing back! Your deaths will be quick!”
Torra charged at the Sect. Leon watched as things seemed to slow down and become distorted. His brother strode forwards bravely and Luther was unimpressed. As Torra’s joined hands began pulling the golden hilt of Escander into the air the Sect ducked low and butted the end of the sword knocking it into the air up over Torra with astounding speed. As the blade fell behind the king, Luther sidestepped left then forwards and caught the hilt horizontally and then, without a second thought, stabbed the blade backwards under his arm and straight into the back of Torra. The thin armor he wore was not enough to hold back the force of the blade, the sword cut straight through the body like it was nothing. Red blood began to drip from the wound as Luther tugged the sword back. Torra’s body seemed to sway and then he dropped to his knees, his gaze was straight forward and his mouth was wide open. And then he fell. Leon watched in horror. His brother’s body lay still on the floor with a pool of blood beginning to surround his stomach.
“Torra!” he shouted.
But it was too late.
Luther tossed the king’s sword onto the ground beside Torra’s body and began walking towards Leon, who still could not move.
I cannot move, Leon thought to himself. There is…nothing I can do, it’s over for me…At last, my battles are over… I… I can finally cry…
Tears were forming, slowly but surly. It had been so long since he had really cried; not since he was a child. When he learned of his mother’s death, he cried then. And when he thought his father had rejected him, once again he cried. But after training so long tears no longer came to him, even when he wanted them too. He made a promise to himself that he would not cry or mourn until the day he could give up his weapon and his way of life. But now he could feel them again, slowly trickling down the sides of his face. Raziel was gone, the weapon he made the pledge on, so he was free at last to cry for Leonard, for Torra, and for himself. Luther was standing at his feet now, looking down at him with a disgusted expression.
“Crying? You pathetic worm, are you that weak?” he asked.
Suddenly there was the sound of metal giving way followed by a deep shredding. The tip of a bloodied blade emerged from the front of Luther’s stomach. Torra stood humped over behind him grasping his father’s sword in bloody hands. He slowly released the hilt and toppled a few steps backwards. Luther hunched forwards and coughed. Blood stains appeared under his mask as he did. He turned, and in a rage, knocked Torra sideways with a punch. The king landed a short distance from Leon.
“I…could not… hold back the blade… Kill…ed… by a… mere man….” Luther coughed as he limped backwards before collapsing to the floor with Escander still sticking out from him.
Leon still laid flat on his back and could not move. He tilted his head sideways and saw Torra was on his stomach once again and his open eyed face was looking over to him. Fresh blood was leaking from his wound onto the snow below. The Kings lips started to move but no voice came out. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips as he said something over and over. Torra stretched one arm out weakly, trying to reach over to Leon while repeating something over and over. Leon leaned forwards with his hand as well and tried to grab his brothers. Then Torra found his voice at last.
“I’m….sorry…..”
Those were Torra Nega’s, the King of Atra, last words. His hand dropped to the ground inches from Leon’s. And then everything turned white before the Demon Hunter’s eyes as a white flame engulfed him.
Tylor’s gaze scanned quickly from left to right and then he twisted his body round and looked down and up the street. The storm still raged around the city, the artificial squall formed from dark magic. At first it had not affected him, but now as his Aura was getting weaker the rain and wind began to pierce his shell.
With each blow exchanged Tylor was getting slower and weaker as fatigue affected him, but Tai remained strong. The Sect had vanished after their last exchange and was lurking somewhere nearby. The storm was providing adequate cover so that Tylor could only sense his general location rather than exact. On the left there was a noise, Tylor jumped slightly and looked over to see some rock crack and topple from its foundation. He cursed under his breath as he regained his composure and once again tried to find Tai’s Aura.
Soon...I will be one with you.
A dark voice boomed inside his head. Tylor stumbled to the side and shook his head. Was it Tai trying to play mind games with him? No, it could not be him, it was not his voice. It was the voice that spoke to him in Noctern, and on occasion before that. When it spoke to him this time it felt as if he had slipped into unconsciousness, as if something was pulling at his mind. It made Tylor feel ill and dizzy. But before he could try to figure anything out, Tai jumped from a nearby building and knocked Tylor down the length of the street into another destroyed building.
A blast of purple energy shot down the street at astonishing speed towards Tylor. Just as the ball reached him, he knocked his hands into the air smashing the energy high into the sky. As it rose through the clouds a sudden burst of lightning struck it causing a large explosion in the sky. A perfect blue sky could be seen through the semi circle caused by the blast, but it was soon enveloped again by the storm. Tai appeared next to Tylor and bashed him to the ground, then followed up with a kick to the gut. Tylor tried to retaliate, but Tai caught his fists and then tossed him into more debris. The Sect seemed to have gotten stronger than ever before, but Tylor could not understand how. His power was supposed to be able to match toe for toe.
He was holding back, Tylor thought. Regardless of what he said, he was still playing his sick games. I’m no match for him…
Again and again Tai struck Tylor down. With each blow Tylor found it harder and harder to stand back up. Then, after one last powerful punch to the chest, he found that he could stand no longer. He wheezed hard and gripped his stomach while coughing harshly. His glorious white Aura had gone; it no longer empowered nor protected him. The rain felt hard on his body, like knives trying to pierce him and the wind chilled to the bone. Tai was in front of him again laughing in the deep sickly tone he had done so many times before.
“How ironic!” he cried, losing his composure. “You will meet your fate the same way as Zan did. At least you offered more of a fight before giving up than he did.”
Everything seemed to be spinning and Tylor felt very light headed. Then he thought he saw someone, standing in the rain looking at him. There was someone else as well, to the right, and another above him. They all walked round him and looked down below his legs. Tylor sat up and saw just past his boots a small flower sat encircled in light. Everything else was black now; Tentra, the storm and Tai had gone, disappeared. The figures faces became apparent in his minds eye; it was all those he had lost. The figures were Zan and Rei Sabre, Joel Dawson, Leon Sansec and Karen Warren. All the visions said nothing; instead they stayed silent and continued to stare at the flower.
The flower was dying. All but one small green leaf had crumpled and fallen. The yellow and red glow from the flowers center was growing dimmer and dimmer as if flickering as each ounce of life left it. Tylor remembered that he had seen it once before, and when he tried to touch it on that occasion it wilted and died. The flower now before him looked almost exactly like it; once the last leaf had fallen it would be identical.
“I…I do not understand,” Tylor mumbled to the visions of his family and friends.
“When the last leaf wilts, you will fall to darkness,” the visions said in time with one another.
Tylor put his head in his hands and rubbed gently. His head continued to pound and he still felt ill. Was he dead? Or perhaps dying? Tai was not there, nor was Tentra, so something had happened. It did not feel real, it was too warm and gentle compared to Tentra. It was some kind of dreamscape. It did not matter any more, Tylor’s power had left him and Tai was ready to deal the final blow.
“Be strong, Tylor,” the vision of Leon said.
“Tylor, be the warrior that I know you to be!” Joel’s vision cried.
“Be brave, my son,” Zan’s vision said.
“Fight with your heart and defend those who cannot defend themselves,” his mothers vision said.
“Tylor, fight for all of us,” Karen’s vision said.
His conscience snapped back to Tentra. Tai still stood above him with a fresh blade poised in hand. Had that been real? It may have been Seka trying to reach him, to give him faith, but the soft woman’s voice had not spoken to him in so long. It could have been nothing more than delusions brought on from injury but never the less it fueled Tylor’s anger. He had to fight back, he could not die there.
Tylor flipped onto his feet as a white fire consumed him. He then kicked the dark blade from Tai’s hand then followed up with another roundhouse kick to the face before charging forward and connecting two more punches. Tai began blocking his blows as the Sect’s evil Aura encircled him to counter Tylor’s.
“Still have some fight left do you boy!?” Tai laughed manically. “Good!”
The two combatants broke from each other and jumped back to put space between them. Then each fired at one another with a large blast of Aura. The energies met at the way point between them and erupted sending both flying backwards. Tylor and Tai jumped forwards into the smoke cloud and met inside it, exchanging blows while hovering above the ground. Tai followed up a knee to his opponent’s chest with a flat palm invisible energy blast to Tylor’s stomach. His body flew from the smoke cloud and crashed hard into the rocky upturned floor below. Tai’s image slowly hovered to the ground and landed without sound. Tylor pushed both his hands forwards as he rose, knocking Tai backwards off his feet. As the Sect fell, Tylor appeared beneath him as a flickering image and kicked him in the back sending his body soaring into the air. The Sect flipped to a stop some distance from the ground and spat at the air with an angry look on his face.
Suddenly, Tai shot back down to the ground crashing directly into Tylor causing another huge hole to appear in the ground. The two toppled backwards and fell down into the sewer still exchanging blows en route. Rock and stone fell all around them but any that came in contact with their Auras were turned to dust instantly. Tai was the first to recover from landing hard on the sewer floor and kicked his foot high at Tylor’s chest, knocking him into the sewer wall. He then grabbed Tylor’s left arm and twisted under it. There was a loud crack as he then kicked his chest again and let him slump down against the wall grabbing his twisted arm in pain. Tylor was not given time to react and was quickly picked up and thrown out of the hole back into the street above.
Hiding behind a nearby building, Tylor pulled at his arm. A previous Center Point must have mastered medical knowledge. He could instantly tell his arm had been dislocated at the shoulder even though he had no knowledge in that field before. Turning to the wall of the house his back had been up against he braced himself and smashed his left shoulder into it. He cried out in pain as his disjointed limb snapped back into place.
He placed his forehead against the wall and breathed deeply as he felt sweat dripping down his face onto the floor below. The rock was smooth and very cold as rain dripped down it. The wall he had been resting on suddenly shattered as Tai broke through the rock with his hand and knocked Tylor out back into the open street.
He got up and looked at the wrecked street before him. Potholes and broken remains littered the streets. Most houses on both sides had been damaged; most knocked to its very foundations. In the distance at the end of the street the castle loomed up in the darkness, its shattered tower where the throne room was clearly visible with each lightning strike. From the angle he now stood the image of the gaping hole was like a crescent moon exposing half the throne room. Joel was still up there. Without help he would not likely survive. Tylor would have to finish Tai quickly then return to his young friend.
Tai appeared again and knocked him down the length of yet another street. The castle seemed even more distant now, but still just as foreboding. The visions seemed to be standing over him again, staring into his eyes with sympathetic gaze. It was not possible they were all there, but warmth seemed to resonate from them that filled Tylor with more strength and a sense of love. But even with that strength it was not enough. He felt a tear trickle down his cheek as he looked at them all.
“I have let you all down… I am so, so sorry…” he said out loud. “I was always running away, I’m a coward…I cannot avenge you Karen, Father, Mother, and I cannot defend you Joel, or help you Leon… please let you be okay…” he cried. “I did not want this, this life, I want my old life back…”
And then before him there shined a white light. Slowly Tylor raised his hand to touch at it, but it seemed out of reach. Something spoke to him in his heart, a voice.
“Yes, give me those times back. I don’t want…this…, please, give me peace…” he mumbled to the light.
“Tylor, jeez, get up will you!” Joel cried.
Tylor sat up with a start. It was his room that greeted him. His warm room back in Samilo. It was undamaged; all was as it should be. He lay his head back down onto the soft pillows below and tugged the sheets closer to his head. Then a leg swiftly knocked him gently in the side. Adjusting his gaze, he saw Joel in a shirt and trousers with crossed arms tapping one finger and grinning.
“You’re not going back to sleep! Your father couldn’t even get you up, but I’m not as soft as him!” Joel laughed while giving, Tylor another poke in the side.
“Okay…alright!” Tylor said, shaking his head and sitting up in bed.
Joel ceased assaulting him and took a few steps back and sat on a wooden chair near Tylor’s desk, which was littered with his study books. A high bright sun shined in from the far end small window of the room spreading its warmth around. It was another nice pleasant day in Samilo.
“Well, go wait for me while I get dressed,” Tylor said to his young friend.
“Sure, but if you go back to bed I’m bringing a stick when I come to wake you up again!” he quipped in response as he disappeared down the stairs.
At first Tylor did not move, instead he sat examining his surroundings. It was not real, it could not be real. Samilo was gone, his room and most of his home destroyed. And yet now he saw before him undamaged with everything as it should be. Yet more proof of this revealed itself as a familiar voice called up the stairs.
“Tylor, your meal will get cold, hurry up!”
It was his father. Tylor felt a strong feeling in his heart that he had not felt for a long time. It was of comfort, security. He felt safe. But his father was dead, that fact struck him like a wake up call from Joel. They were all dead no doubt, and probably him as well. Perhaps this was his afterlife, the perfect moment in his life when all was well, before everything fell into chaos. This was the idealism of the happiness that left him almost a year before. It was what was missing and what was always holding him back. Ever since they left the island nothing but terrible tragedies had followed them.
A figure shrouded in a dark red cape suddenly became apparent in the far corner of the room. It was along the wall from the window which was still shadowed. He stepped out with confidence and looked over to Tylor sitting in bed. The face of the figure was exactly as his own, even the eyes.
“Who are you?” Tylor cried, backing up against the wall to the side of his bed.
“Is this adequate?” the figure asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“Is this enough to satisfy your needs? It must be, I have read your memories and there is nothing I do not know about you, Tylor Sabre. Now that I have taken control and become the dominant persona I must give you a sanctuary in which to live. It is the least I can do for the information you have provided. The Sect, The Destined, Seka and Kain, I will see to them all. And I have you to thank. You were my medium since the day I entered your body. I am glad Zan resisted me.”
“…My father, resisted you?”
“Yes, I found his body and recognized an Aura created originally from the power of Yggdrasil, but his mind was too strong even in old age to take control of. His young son, however, was more than susceptible. I lay dormant in you until I felt it was time to reveal myself. By then you had grown strong as well, so instead of attempting forcibly to take control I bartered with you. I disposed of that Sect in Noctern to save you and your friend’s lives, in return you promised me what I wanted; your conscious thought.”
“You, the thing in my head, you are not Seka…I agreed to no such thing!”
“But you did. And no, I am not Seka. She has tried constantly to reach your subconscious, but as I awakened I blocked out her presence. No need to complicate things, after all.”
“Then, none of this is real…”
“Of course it is not. But this is what makes you happy; this is where your happiness lies by your own admission. You should be thankful I provide even this. Your life will be one of constant happiness; you will never be bothered with the Destined's legacy. And if you desire more of your companions simply wish it and it will be so. That woman, Karen Warren, you desire her do you not?”
And then Karen was next to the figure. She stood in all her glory, completely naked. Tylor looked away, confused and embarrassed. She walked slowly towards him and sat on the edge of the bed and then stroked a gentle hand over his half hidden face.
“Tylor, this is what you want is it not? Your happiness, help me give it to you…” she said.
“This isn’t real…you…you're dead,” he stuttered.
“Why can’t this be real? Let this be your reality, Tylor. Let us be together in your happiness, forever in this place.”
Both hands were placed on his face now. She held his cheeks and turned his face round to look at hers. The eyes were the same, the hair was the same; everything was the same. Slowly she leant forwards and pressed her delicate lips on his. She felt warm and alive. She was alive, and she was there. It could not be a fake. As they kissed, the dark figure slowly vanished and then Tylor was left alone in his happiness with those lost found once again.
Lightning clashed in the sky above Tai as he strode down the street to where Tylor’s body lay still. The wind had subsided slightly, as had the rain. The power of the sphere was running out and the storm would soon fade away and die out. It had lost power a lot faster than the one used in Samilo, but that was to be expected. He had cast it over the length of an entire city spreading its edges very thin. It was enough to do its job none the less.
After the west borders fall Kain’s forces would invade the land and find a crumbled capital. By then he would have to be long gone. When Kass’ plight is heard of he will send another to trap him in one of those enchanted crystals and without the power he had sought from Tylor he would not be able to face Kain yet. Looking out to the south, Tai stopped and closed his eyes. He felt an Aura dying.
It was Luther’s Aura. The over confident weakling had been killed, mostly likely by the Demon Hunter. That was another thorn in his side easily removed. Now all that remained was to finish off Zan’s boy and then to leave Atra before Kain’s forces come.
Up ahead a bright red light lit up the entire street coming from where Tylor lay. It turned into a cylinder of energy which shot up through the storm before dissipating into nothing. Tai lowered his head down from looking up to the sky to see Tylor standing on top of a pile of rocks staring at him.
“You are becoming a pest, boy,” Tai hissed, “Accept your death.”
“…Death from a being of such minuscule strength and ability? I think not,” Tylor boomed in a voice which was not his own.
That voice was familiar. It was the voice Tylor took on in Noctern when his power sky rocketed. Could it be possible that he had once again received strength from whatever possessed him? If indeed it was then it was the perfect opportunity to find out.
“So, you are the demon that the boy obtained his strength from… What are you and why do you stay with such a weakling? Combine your power with mine and we would be unstoppable. Not even Kain could stand against us!” Tai cried manically.
“I sought a body which would give me information, the power of a Destined or Sect would make no real difference to my awesome Aura. As for Kain, he will be dealt with in time. Since you offered me such a pleasant deal I will now do the gracious thing and offer it to you; accept your death and I will end it quickly.”
Tai stopped taking steps forward and stood silent for a moment. Then without warning, he cast one hand forwards and fired a large beam of Aura at Tylor, who did not try to dodge it. The beam shot through him and past him destroying all that lay behind, turning it into a smoking crater. Tai then shot more and more energy expanding the parameter of the explosion. After that he dropped his hands and breathed deeply from exhaustion, he had expelled too much energy too quickly.
The energy quickly dissipated leaving a smoking crater the size of six buildings. Floating slightly above the direct center, Tylor stood with a small dark red glow around him. He pointed at Tai and then beckoned him to attack again, angering the Sect immensely.
“I will not be taunted!” Tai cried as he soared into the air.
Each punch or kick missed its target as Tylor easily evaded the assault. Even hovering high from the ground he could still move fast enough to effectively make Tai miss every time without having to use increased speed teleportation. After growing tired of letting Tai attempt to hit him, Tylor used the speed teleportation to vanish and reappear in an instant some distance away from the crater and back on the ground. Tai did the same and appeared directly in front of him and attempted to punch forwards, but his fist was caught and then he was tossed down the street. His body twisted and twirled as it bounced and eventually smashed through the ground into the sewer. Tai came to a painful stop as he landed into a sewer passage filled with stinking water.
“Such power,” Tai said while coughing. “…And he is holding back…” he then laughed.
He continued to laugh out loud as his opponents figure appeared at the edge of the hole he had created on impact. Tai slowly stood up then reappeared back on the street. As Tai swept his hand sideways a dark purple bladed sword appeared in his hand. Tai attacked with his sword, but each time he swiped at Tylor he would vanish and reappear close by, continuing to mock the Sect as he tried to attack.
“Stand and fight!” Tai shouted.
Then Tylor was directly in front of him and he did not move.
“So, you are that eager to die? I have used so little of my power, but if you insist, I will end your life quickly,” Tylor uttered unemotionally.
A red liquid seemed to drip into the pupils of Tylor’s eyes as a dark red Aura surrounded him. Tai leapt backwards as the ground all around began to shake almost as if scared. Soon both his eyes had been completely coated in red ooze covering even his pupils. A red cloud appeared on his back which then burst open to reveal a huge dark red bladed long sword strapped to his back with a black handle and hilt. The blade had indentations cut into it and the tip swerved and bent at the top almost ninety degrees from the rest of the blade. From the hilt each side of it opened and curved in a similar fashion but inwards.
“That sword…!” Tai exclaimed. “…Apocalypse? It could not be!”
“Ah, so you do know. The name Apocalypse was given to both me and my blade by the people of Pesmega, but I have been called so many things,” Tylor said coldly. “Apocalypse, the bringer of death, and son of the devil himself, they used to say. It was an accurate description by all means.”
“You are Aseroth… the son of Yggdrasil!” Tai cried. “But you perished with your father long ago, how is it possible that you exist now!”
“Though my body died my spirit lived on, partly thanks to my father. In his moment of death an enchantment was placed on his dark fortress to the north, it held my spirit even after the crystal made from spirit metal was pierced. I could exist without a host, but for many years I was trapped in that fortress biding my time for when my spirit had a strong enough presence in this realm to be able to move about freely. Once that had occurred I required to know what became of Seka and Kain, so I sought out the first powerful Aura I could find and tracked it back to Zan Sabre, and then to his son whom I now inhabit. The information he learned was all that I needed,” he said evilly.
“…Spirit metal?” Tai questioned to himself quietly.
“They have grown weak over the years; neither is as strong as when they stormed my father’s fortress with their rebellious armies. There is no challenge here for me, but I will pay tribute to my father by disposing of them both. And then I will carry on his legacy and restore the fortress to its former glory and become the rightful ruler of Pesmega. Only then will the resurrection take place and I will prove to my father that I could do what he could not. He feared the power he gave me and imprisoned me because he thought I would destroy this world. I will bring him back to see a world ruled by my hand and prove that I can rule in his place.”
“Necromancers loyal to Yggdrasil have tried to resurrect him before, it failed every time. Your father is gone and soon you will be as well!” Tai laughed.
“Are you are so blinded by your own arrogance that you cannot see the difference between you and I? Or perhaps you are simply as mad as everyone seems to think. No matter. My father will live again, but you will not be alive to see his second coming. You are not worthy.”
In a fit of rage, Tai charged at Aseroth once more with his blade in hand. As he swiped with his sword Tylor twisted the large sword from his back and slashed sideways chopping Tai’s blade in two. Aseroth then returned the blade to his back and stretched forward to grab Tai’s throat. He then spun round one hundred eighty degrees and let Tai’s body fly forwards through the air. Before it landed, Aseroth threw one of his hands forward and a huge pillar of red energy shot from it consuming the Sects body and firing the beam the length of the entire city. In the distance as the smoke cleared he watched as the three layers of Tentra’s wall collapse. Nothing was left.
Tai was gone.
Aseroth huffed to himself and examined a gauntlet on his left hand. He tugged at it and the bottom straps broke away instantly, he then threw it down onto the floor and headed off to the north. As he left, the clouds began to part, the rain ceased, and the wind had died down to a pleasant breeze. The sun once again took precedence lighting up the sky and Tentra as it once had been. The snow reflected light back into the sky from untouched roofs and birds sung once again. But by that time, he was gone.
The door into Tentra castle swung open violently as Joel fell through it onto the snow covered floor below. He lay face down on the ground for a moment before slowly getting to his feet and brushing himself down. He walked while gripping his left shoulder and in his left hand he held a scabbard with the broken sword Pesmega within it. He moved slowly with a limp through the large courtyard and out into the city all the time, trying to sense for Tylor’s location. The storm had gone and a clear blue sky now greeted him. The warmth was welcomed. While he had been slowly traveling down the castle he had felt two immense powers fighting, but now there was only lingering traces of both.
After walking for what seemed like hours he came across a war torn street. Holes littered the ground, houses were in ruins but more importantly it seemed to be the source of the remaining Aura that he could feel. The street seemed deserted; perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He could sense no one, which could mean that something awful had happened. He shuddered with the thought. Tylor could not be dead. He would not lose.
But where is he? His mind whispered to him. And Leon, maybe they both met the same fate as Karen…
It was then that Joel noticed that a gauntlet lay strewn across the floor. It had been ripped off, the straps lay in tatters. He slowly bent over and picked it up with his right hand. It was the one which matched his own, the one Tylor had worn. The gauntlet was stained with a mixture of dirt and what must have been blood.
“No…not Tylor as well….” Joel said, dropping to his knees.
Pesmega and the gauntlet dropped to the floor. Joel sobbed to himself and pounded his fist into the ground with rage. And then something clicked within him, and suddenly he understood things he had not. He knew things he could not know and could do things he had no experience with. A white Aura erupted around him as he screamed as loud as he could so that any still alive would here him. And then he went quiet and while consumed by white fire continued to beat his fists off the ground, which was slowly breaking apart and giving way.
It was then he became aware of someone’s presence. Leon slowly stumbled into the street and looked at Joel. He cautiously walked up to him then collapsed to one knee in front of his young friend. The white fire around Joel slowly disappeared as he regained composure. He glanced at Leon’s eyes then looked back down to the ground.
“Where are Karen and Tylor? Are they…they could not be…” Leon stuttered.
Joel said nothing and instead wiped his eyes with his hand. Leon looked around at the destruction and carnage, and then up to the ruined castle.
“Dear god… What has happened?”
The story of the Destined continues…
In
Retribution
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