Tournament of Champions 4 (The game has begun!)

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  • I have a lot of finals for the next two weeks
  • edited May 2021

    Part 11: Pact

     

    “Answers.” Conscience said into empty air, still high on the success of the battle and the feast’s food. It had only happened hours ago, and she was ready for answers. Sitting upon a balustrade, she waited for the voice to speak.

     

    W̷̞̙̘̝̗̬̤̘͔͆͐̈́̈́͑̑̂̎̌̕̚͜e̷̡̛̪̫̤͌͑̆̇̎̀͑̆̀͗̋̀̈l̵̯̦͇̮̮̪̳͊͌̽́̌̕͠ͅͅl̴̢̲̙͖̯̘͆̈́̆,̸̣̽̈͒ ̵͚͆̈́̏͊͆͛̿̀͒̆̈̎̀̕a̸͔̹̼̺͚̖̩̫͆͆̾ ̴̛̗͙̲̻̲̣̱͖͕̠̰̼̑̾̑̓͛̐̂͛̋͌̃̕ḑ̴̢̠̯̙̞̫͈͔̐͂͋̓̿̾́̈́̂̽̚͜ę̶̛̩̰͎̟̦͈͕̲̫̝̀͐͑́̔̉̀̎͋̂̉̍ă̸̢̘̻͐̉̀̄̄́̿̀͝͠ĺ̶̢̻͈̲̺̲͓̗̓́̀̄͒̀̏͂ͅ'̵̼̘͚̭̤̩͕͓̖̄̿̿͗̔̾̃̈́̓̍̚̕͜͠s̸̡̞̞̥͕̓̅ ̸̨̨̱̳͈̦̞͓̘̺̠̪̑͆̔̍͆̇̓͑̌͑̽͗̕͜͜͝ͅâ̴̦̦̺̳͓̙̭̰̼̲͕̳̫̇̋̎͒̎͒̐ ̷̱͙͇̣̝̬̬͊͒̄̀d̴͔̺͓͇̘̩̬̱̟͋̂̍̔̏̔̌͘͘̕͠ȩ̵͎͔̳̞̻̩͇̮̙͙̖͂̀̆́̃̍̄͆̚͝ͅͅã̴̟̩̪̱͎̥̌l̷̛̫̟̭̪̣͉̇̌̀̿̿̆̈́̏.̸̘̬͓͎̭͉͙̘̫͌͒̅͐̚ ̷̫̀͂́͗̈́͒̽Å̵̡̢̤̬̪̫̗̦̉́̿͐͋͜n̶͈̼̩̓̂͊̍̐͌̂͘s̶̬͙͍͔̣͖͂̒͜w̸̦̻̣̌͜e̴̪͍̓̌͒͐͌r̷̡̨̖̝̩̙̳̱͐̀̒͛̅̎̄ș̵̢̦͎̣͕̺̘̹̓͜ ̵̪̰̱̏̊̍̐̽̃̑͊͋͊̆̎̇̚ḯ̶̝̪̮̂͋̾͋͗͌̆̕͘͝ţ̸͈̪̜̤̟̹̺͉͖͔͙̻̜̪̾͒̋͛̄̂̃̒͒͌͒̅͋͝͝ ̵̧̢͎̭̎̊͛̇̏͛͒͘͜i̸̧̧͔͈̫̣̯̗͙̯̜͓̾̆̊̈́͆s̴̹̖̳̝͒̍̄̄͐̋̕.̴̲̺̞̦̻͚̣͋͘, the voice said. Ẉ̷̲̰̠͎̠͚̼̫̝̍̀̃̀̚͠ḣ̶̛͖͙͍̟̘̭̟̰̙̣̈̿̿̇̾̆̊̓̑͘͝͝ä̷̧̱̥̹͍̻̟́ṫ̸̡̯͎̦̯̰͓͉̯̖̬͝ ̶͇̯̠͍͉͙̟͎̿̽̍̆̌͌̏̅̚͜ͅa̵̟̯͌̃͛͂̌̎̏̾͘n̸̻̭̲͎̹̲̻̱̏͒͗͌͂͆͜s̸̡̨̛̝͖̬͓̰͖̜̭̜̠͎͙̈́́̏̂͠ẉ̴̉͊̏͑e̴̡̧̛̝͈̗̜͙̘̩̫̯͉͍͕̿̆̅͐̒̐̎͌̅́̉̎̄͠r̸̡̧̮̠̪̭̫͚̘̃̽̂͊̋̃̌̑s̷̨̥͖̯̜͉̭̲̹̩̳̩͖̗̜̉ ̴̨̨̺̲̜̭̜̺̙̻͋͐̅̃͠͠d̷̺̮̼͓̩̮̥̪̱̹̅̈́̄̋̿̈̈́́̈̉̒͠͠͝͠ơ̸̠͍̲̘͖̈́͑́̍͐̈́̌̾͆̕͝ ̷̬̻͖͂y̸̨̲̯̱͔̱̖̘̱̝̺̿͑̒̾̾͐̐͑̑͝ö̸̜͓̙̘͈̮̠́̎͆͐u̸͕̮̞̺͎̦͉̓͊̓̐ ̶̡̡̢̨͖̼̆w̷̢̜̥̝̰̹̯̻̟͕͂͒́̇̉̈́̀́͘ͅä̴̧̻͓͓͕̯͚͙̬̝̳̣͚̅̓̀̎̓͗̄̄̀͊͒̈͝͝ǹ̷̡͉͇̼̫̠͓̙̮̞̠̦̤̣́͛t̴͓̮̙͇͓̝͔̺̾̃̾̋̿̑̊̀̈́͐̇̐͑͘?̸̨̝̼̣͚͕̱̣̙͉͍̉̀̾̏͂́̏́͋͒͂́̓͜͝

     

    “What is the sigil of the raven, the black sword and the coin.” 

     A̷h̶,̸ ̵s̴t̵a̵r̶t̸i̸n̷g̷ ̶t̸h̴e̴r̶e̴,̶ ̴a̷r̷e̶ ̸w̷e̴?̸ ̷T̴h̵e̸ ̶s̷i̷g̸i̵l̵ ̶b̷e̴l̷o̵n̵g̷s̴ ̸t̸o̵ ̶t̷h̶e̷ ̵f̵a̶l̶l̷e̵n̷ ̷k̴i̵n̶g̴d̸o̵m̷ ̵o̶f̵ ̵J̴e̶n̶n̶e̴r̸a̵,̶ ̷w̵h̸o̵ ̶w̶e̵r̸e̸ ̵p̷r̷i̵d̷e̷d̶ ̵o̴n̷ ̸t̵h̶e̷i̸r̸ ̸p̶o̸w̸e̵r̸f̶u̷l̸ ̶m̴a̵g̷i̶c̷.̸ The word Jennera reminded Conscience of s

     “How does Jennera relate to me?” 

    Y̸o̸u̵ ̶w̶e̸r̸e̸ ̵i̴t̴s̸ ̶p̷r̵i̵n̷c̸e̵s̸s̶.̶ The voice had decreased in intensity, as if soothing her.

    “How.” 

    Y̶o̵u̵r̶ ̸p̸a̸r̷e̸n̸t̴s̷,̶ ̵t̸h̵e̴ ̸k̵i̸n̴g̴ ̶a̴n̶d̸ ̷q̵u̸e̶e̵n̵ ̷o̷f̵ ̶t̵h̸e̷ ̶k̸i̷n̴g̵d̶o̷m̷,̶ ̵m̷a̵d̵e̵ ̵a̶ ̵p̵a̸c̷t̴ ̵w̴i̴t̷h̵ ̴a̷n̶o̵t̷h̶e̴r̷ ̷o̴f̴ ̴m̶y̴ ̵k̸i̵n̸d̷,̷ ̸b̶u̴t̷ ̴b̴e̷t̸r̵a̴y̴e̵d̴ ̵t̷h̷e̷ ̷p̸a̵c̷t̷ ̶t̷o̴ ̴s̷a̸v̴e̷ ̸y̷o̸u̵.̸ ̷T̴h̶e̶y̸ ̸d̸i̵e̶d̶,̸ ̸a̷n̶d̷ ̸I̴ ̵s̴a̶v̷e̴d̶ ̶y̵o̵u̴ ̷f̶r̷o̶m̵ ̷t̷h̸e̴ ̴m̸u̶r̶d̶e̷r̵e̶r̴,̴ ̸b̷u̵t̷ ̷h̶a̴d̷ ̴t̸o̶ ̸w̶i̵p̶e̵ ̵a̸n̶d̷ ̷r̶e̶p̸l̸a̴c̵e̵ ̷y̸o̸u̶r̴ ̵m̵e̶m̷o̶r̸i̶e̷s̶ ̵s̷o̵ ̵y̶o̸u̶ ̸w̷o̴u̴l̶d̸ ̴f̵i̸t̵ ̴i̸n̶t̸o̵ ̵s̷o̷c̶i̶e̷t̵y̵.̸ The explanation felt sincere to her ears, but after years of hearing inept merchants lie to her father about their failures, it felt that this thing was still concealing things.

    “What is the memory I keep having? The one where you speak.” Conscience stretched her legs out into open air, dangling them over a long drop.

    T̶h̴e̶ ̷n̷i̶g̵h̸t̸ ̶w̶h̷e̶r̷e̴ ̸m̷y̵ ̴k̷i̷n̸ ̴m̸u̴r̴d̷e̶r̷e̸d̶ ̵y̵o̸u̶r̴ ̸f̴a̴m̵i̶l̴y̷ ̷a̷s̶ ̶v̸e̷n̴g̵e̵a̸n̷c̸e̶.̸ ̵T̷h̶e̷ ̸r̴e̴c̵o̴l̴l̸e̶c̸t̷i̸o̶n̶ ̵w̵a̶s̵ ̶t̸h̶e̷ ̶o̷n̸l̴y̶ ̶t̷i̷m̴e̶ ̴I̷ ̸c̵o̶u̶l̷d̷ ̷r̶e̷a̵c̸h̴ ̸y̶o̶u̵ ̶t̸h̵r̵o̸u̶g̴h̴-̸ The voice cut off, as if constrained by a force greater than anything she had ever seen before.

    “Through what?”

    I̵ ̶c̴a̸n̸n̸o̴t̴ ̴t̴e̴l̸l̸ ̷y̶o̸u̴.̸

    “Why not?”

    I̵ ̸s̴i̵m̵p̸l̷y̵ ̸c̸a̵n̸n̴o̷t̷.̸

    A magical pact of some kind…holding his tongue while speaking of a barrier between him and me.

    “Then why can you speak now, to me?”

    T̵h̶e̵ ̵m̶a̸g̴i̵c̵ ̵t̷h̵a̸t̷ ̵l̶i̴e̶s̵ ̷w̴i̴t̵h̶i̴n̸ ̷y̶o̸u̵.̴ ̷I̸t̴ ̷i̶s̵ ̶o̶f̶ ̵m̵y̸ ̸k̴i̷n̶d̷,̴ ̸a̴n̷d̷ ̴i̶t̸ ̶a̶l̴l̵o̶w̵s̸ ̷a̶ ̷s̸i̴m̸p̸l̵e̵ ̷c̸o̸n̸n̴e̵c̵t̷i̶o̵n̵,̵ ̴m̸i̶n̷d̸ ̸t̵o̴ ̴m̶i̵n̴d̸.̸ ̵Y̶o̵u̶r̴ ̷k̷i̵n̶d̸ ̸c̸a̷l̴l̷ ̵i̴t̶ ̶t̸e̵l̶e̸p̷a̷t̴h̷y̶,̸ ̸I̶ ̷b̵e̴l̵i̵e̵v̷e̶.̵  

    “Why can’t I control the magic? Like in the tournament, sparring against Mimosa, while I was practicing. Why does it come out so randomly?”

    T̴h̵e̶ ̷m̷a̶g̶i̷c̵ ̷o̴f̶ ̶m̴y̴ ̷k̵i̸n̷d̶ ̶i̷s̶ ̷n̸o̸t̴ ̴m̵e̴a̴n̸t̷ ̵f̷o̷r̵ ̸y̸o̷u̸.̸ ̵W̶e̷ ̷m̸e̵a̸s̶u̶r̵e̷ ̶t̵i̸m̶e̴ ̶f̸a̸r̷ ̴d̷i̷f̸f̴e̴r̷e̶n̴t̸l̸y̶;̷ ̷a̷ ̴l̶i̸f̵e̸s̴p̴a̶n̴ ̴o̵f̵ ̶a̵ ̵h̶u̵m̶a̶n̵ ̶p̸a̶s̵s̴e̵s̴ ̶l̴i̶k̶e̶ ̵a̷ ̷s̴e̸c̵o̷n̸d̴ ̴f̷o̶r̴ ̴u̴s̷.̵ ̴O̶u̵r̴ ̷m̶a̴g̷i̷c̵ ̷t̴a̴k̵e̶s̵ ̸u̵s̶ ̸c̵e̶n̵t̷u̸r̶i̴e̸s̷ ̴o̸f̸ ̴y̶o̶u̵r̸ ̶t̴i̷m̶e̷ ̴t̸o̵ ̴m̵a̴s̷t̷e̷r̷,̵ ̸s̴o̷ ̶n̶o̴ ̸h̷u̶m̶a̸n̴ ̸c̶o̷u̴l̸d̷ ̸e̵v̵e̵r̶ ̷h̷o̷p̸e̸ ̵t̵o̸ ̷c̸o̶n̵t̴r̷o̴l̶ ̴t̵h̵a̴t̴ ̵d̷a̶r̶k̸n̷e̸s̴s̶.̵

    “Is there a way for me to learn how to control it?” Conscience looked down at her hands, the magic already rising to the surface, uncontrollable dark tendrils, wanting nothing more than to be let free and destroy. “I cannot lead a life in any direction if it continues to control me. The darker the magic, the more people hate and despise you.” The voice scoffed.

    U̶n̸l̷e̷s̴s̶ ̸y̴o̴u̷ ̸c̴a̷n̷ ̵g̸r̷a̶n̴t̵ ̸y̷o̷u̸r̵s̸e̷l̵f̸ ̷i̵m̶m̸o̴r̸t̸a̶l̶i̵t̸y̴,̴ ̸t̴h̶e̸r̶e̵ ̵i̵s̴ ̸o̸n̷l̴y̷ ̶o̵n̵e̶ ̷w̶a̵y̶.̷

    “’My kind’, as you call them, have near to no way to achieve that feat. If we could, I’d already have done it.” She laughed. “So, what is this way?”

    A̸ ̵p̵a̷c̴t̵ ̷w̸i̵t̵h̷ ̸o̷n̵e̴ ̴o̷f̸ ̴m̸y̵ ̷k̵i̵n̴d̶.̷ ̷T̸h̴e̶ ̷p̶a̷c̶t̸ ̶g̵r̷a̴n̶t̴s̷ ̶c̶o̴n̵t̷r̵o̵l̷ ̸o̸v̷e̸r̴ ̶t̷h̸e̸ ̴m̷a̴g̷i̷c̴,̴ ̵h̴o̵w̵e̷v̶e̸r̶,̴ ̴i̸t̸ ̶w̷i̶l̷l̷ ̵a̶l̵w̵a̸y̸s̶ ̴t̴a̶k̸e̵ ̶s̷o̴m̵e̸t̵h̴i̷n̷g̸.̵ Conscience frowned, the answer from the thing sounding like everything had been leading up to this moment.

    “So, you’d be the one I’d make the pact with. What would it take?” Her voice was slightly unsure, but she seemed strangely unaffected by the information dump.

    Y̴o̷u̷r̶ ̶p̸o̸w̴e̸r̴ ̴w̵o̶u̵l̶d̷ ̶b̵e̵ ̸g̵i̷v̷e̵n̴ ̷t̷o̵ ̸m̷e̸ ̷u̷p̴o̸n̶ ̵y̸o̶u̸r̷ ̶d̶e̵a̵t̷h̸.̵ ̴H̶o̵w̶ ̷a̸r̷e̴ ̷y̶o̸u̸ ̶s̶o̷ ̷u̵n̸s̵h̶a̶k̵e̴n̵ ̸b̸y̴ ̵a̷l̵l̵ ̴o̵f̷ ̶t̵h̷i̸s̸?̸ ̴I̶ ̴e̸x̷p̷e̵c̵t̷e̷d̶ ̷t̴e̸a̸r̵s̴,̶ ̸a̸ ̸b̷r̵e̴a̶k̸d̷o̴w̸n̴.̶

    “Those terms would be acceptable. I don’t see myself dying any time soon.” Conscience chuckled, stretching her legs perpendicular to her body over the drop. “And apparently you aren’t as smart as I thought. You should know by now that emotions can’t touch me.” The lie shook through her.

    I̸ ̶w̵o̴u̶l̵d̷n̷'̷t̸ ̴b̸e̴ ̷t̷o̶ ̷s̶u̸r̵e̵ ̸a̸b̴o̸u̵t̶ ̴t̸h̸a̵t̴.̵ ̴N̸o̶w̸,̴ ̸t̴h̸e̴ ̸p̶a̴c̸t̸.̴ ̶H̸o̴l̶d̶ ̶o̷u̷t̶ ̸y̶o̴u̸r̸ ̷h̸a̸n̵d̷ ̶a̶n̴d̷ ̵r̵e̷p̵e̴a̵t̸ ̴t̵h̵e̷ ̴f̷o̷l̷l̶o̶w̷i̴n̷g̴ ̶w̵o̵r̶d̵s̷.̷ ̴ Conscience followed the instructions, and repeated strange, guttural sounds she couldn’t understand. As she continued, the black magic wound its way about her, her purple soul magic rising as well, entwining with the dark magic.

    The last word leaving her tongue, the black magic encroached across her vision, until she couldn’t see. The power infused her body, more power than she had ever felt coursing through her. The voice, still present, seemed shocked at the amount of magic pouring through her. The darkness and the soul magic started merging, strands of purple and black twining, and the power started rushing to her head, light headedness following. Pure dark flooded the darkness already permeating her vision, before her mind went blank and she felt herself falling off the balustrade, before feeling nothing.

  • Chapter Seventeen - Confrontation

    Lyuben pounded on the locked door over and over again.

    “Let me out!” he yelled.

    Lyuben blasted it with all kinds of spells, but nothing worked. His mother had ensured that the dungeon doors would repel any type of magic. Lyuben slammed his body against the metal door again. And again. And again.

    “Please…” Ayden begged weakly.

    “Oh this is too fun,” Arin smiled maniacally as she prepared another bolt of energy. “I must say, you are tougher than the others I’ve met.”

    “I don’t want to hurt-” 

    Ayden screamed in pain again.

    “Most of them are dead by now, messenger boy. You’re a tough one.”

    D̶̨̈́o̷͙͛ ̴̗̍ẏ̵̱o̸̰͠u̷̢͘ ̸̲̓t̸͍͂r̸̹̿u̵͇͗s̴͚̽t̴̨͋ ̵͉͝m̴̺̈e̸̹͊,̶̲͝ ̶͈͌Ĺ̷̟y̸̱͠ǔ̸̝ḃ̶͜e̶̫̋ñ̴͇?̷̡̋

    I don’t have time for your stupid games! Just leave me unless you know how I can save Ayden. He’s dying right now and you ask if I trust you?

    I̵͈̽f̸̯͊ ̵̦̉y̵͙̚ö̸͉́u̵̼͝ ̸̻̀o̸͚͂n̴͓̎l̶̛̖y̶̹͗ ̸̮͑k̵̬̋n̵̗̿ė̵̳w̸̢͋ ̸͙͑t̶͔͊h̶̹͘ą̸͋t̴̜͊ ̷̢̀y̴̳͌ò̴̖u̵̙͐ ̶͖̂ḫ̶̚a̸̹̚v̴̭͘e̸̞͂ ̶̭̀ṯ̷͆h̶̢̄e̴̻̍ ̸̻͑k̴̫͂ĕ̷͔ỹ̵̧ ̵͖͘t̸͎͑o̴̧͐ ̷̮̀e̵̱͑ș̷͗c̶̅͜ä̶͙́p̵͙̏e̵̅͜.̷͓̔ ̵͇̉I̴̝͗t̸͉̏'̶̫́ś̴̬ ̷̭̈́ŕ̶͈ì̵͔g̸̞̊h̶̯͌ț̵͝ ̴̧̐î̴̗n̶̯͠ ̷̲̋ÿ̵͎ǒ̸̻u̴͝ͅr̶͙̐ ̶͕̃p̵̝̓ȏ̷̜c̵͎͑k̸͔̏ĕ̷̳ṱ̵͝.̵̫͒

    Lyuben reached into his pocket, fishing out the blood rose.

    I- I can’t use the tool Rakhadi used. I don’t want to be like him.

    F̸̤̃i̷̢͝ń̸͓e̷̞̊,̷͓͗ ̷̺͝l̸̛͔e̷̲̍ṭ̵̂ ̶̧̇y̴̩̚o̴̜̒ǘ̸͓r̷̭̂ ̴̙̋f̸̻̊r̶̫͠i̵̻͝ė̴͖n̷̘̿d̴͙̽ ̷̰̾ḑ̵̑ī̸̙e̸̞̾ ̸͓̏t̸͓̒ḣ̷͕e̴̘̿n̴̝̍.̶̥̌

    Ayden shrieked again.

    “Lyuben...I- I”

    He screamed again. Lyuben could hear Arin laughing in the background.

    “I’m s- sorry, Lyuben. I lo-” Ayden coughed as he struggled to return to his feet. He was losing the little strength he had left.

    “The boy can’t hear you,” Arin sneered, “Don’t waste your precious breath.”

    T̴̹́r̶͖̒u̷̱̎s̵͜͠t̴̫͑ ̸̺̈́t̶͖̚h̴̯͌ȅ̶͔ ̴͔͐à̷͎b̶̫̀y̶̦̏ş̷̇s̸̼̅,̵͎͌ ̸̻͐L̴̼̄ẙ̴̝u̴̥̾b̶̠̿ë̸̦́n̸͎͑.̷̯̓ ̸̈́ͅṪ̵͈r̷͈̂ṵ̸̒s̵̩̈́t̶̻͛ ̴̯̾ḯ̷̮t̷̖͠.̷̘́ ̵̠̀H̴̭̔a̶͙̋r̵̖̃n̷̡̆e̷̫̽s̴̫͆s̵̥̉ ̵̧̈́ĩ̸͕t̵͍̐.̵͓͛ ̷͇̚W̵͕͂ì̶̯ě̴̯l̷̀ͅḍ̸̈ ̶͕̓ì̶͖t̴͆ͅ.̸̨̆

    Lyuben gluped. He held the rose up and placed his hand on the door. The rose glowed malevolently as abyssal the boy channeled abyssal magic into his quivering palm. 

    Here goes nothing...

    Lyuben released the pent up energy, blasting the door to dust. 

    “What was that?” Hjordis shouted, “Guards!”

    Lyuben ran through the dust cloud past the guards into the hall. 

    How do I save him? I can’t let Ayden die. I can’t! I wont!

    Ŭ̶͍s̸̗͠e̴̢̒ ̴͖͑t̶̻̊ḩ̵͋ĕ̷͎ ̸̨͐ą̸̏b̴̾ͅy̶̖͝s̷̪̓s̵͉̀.̴̝̍.̷̡̌.̷̳͋

    Lyuben saw Mimosa’s experiment in her tower again. He could see the dark abyssal fluid demolishing the cactus in front of her. “Every petal has dark magic one hundred times as powerful as this concoction. Each thorn on the stem is as sharp as a silver dagger.”

    Lyuben plucked a petal off the rose and flung it towards the ground in front of him. The moment it touched the ground, cracks slithered everywhere through the white marble floor. Purple magic bloomed like a giant flower from the black rose petal. Ribbons of dark magic whipped across the room, destroying everything in their path.

    Hjordis pulled out her sword and pulled Ryan behind her. Her eyes were wide in shock. She spun the sword in front of her to produce a bright white light, repelling the abyssal magic away from her.

    Arin backed away from Ayden and tried to conjure a shield, but Lyuben’s magic crashed through it. Arin was tossed like a rag doll to the wall. Her body went limp and she died instantly. The three guards’ armor was ripped off before more shadowy magic engulfed all of them. The cracks in the marble split open like a large maw, swallowing up the guards. Miraculously, a similar white glow shielded Ayden from the magic.

    What power…

    After a moment of awe, Lyuben ran over to Ayden.

    “Are you okay?”

    “Yeah. Yeah...I’m fine.” Ayden struggled to his feet and hobbled over to guards’ armor and weapons. He picked up one of their swords and swung in playfully. “I have a feeling this isn’t over.”

    “Yeah, it definitely isn’t,” Lyuben nodded. The prince turned angrily to his mother, who was standing across the room. There was an expression of horror spread across her face.

    “Lyuben…” she started.

    “How could you? I trusted you! I thought you were done with your cruelty. But of course you wanted to kill Ayden. What more can you take from me? My life?!”

    “It’s nothing like that, Lyuben! I’m trying to save you!” Hjordis started to walk slowly towards Lyuben. Her sword was drawn and she held it low by her side.

    “I don’t need protection from anything!”

    “You don’t know how the abyss works, Lyuben. You can’t let it-”

    In a fit of rage, Lyuben threw a shadowy spear towards his mother. She slashed it out of the air.

    “I know what I can and can’t do! You can’t hold me forever.”

    “I can Lyuben, I can. You don’t want to do this.”

    “I do. You are no mother to me.”

    Hjordis looked slightly hurt. “I didn’t want to do this.” She unfastened a long steel whip from a belt hidden below her purple dress.

    Ayden, still injured, charged at the queen clumsily. Ryan quickly intercepted Ayden’s attack, but Ayden continued to strike furiously, giving the knight no chance to retaliate. The messenger ignored his painful injuries, defending Lyuben in the moment was all that mattered to him.

    "Lyuben, listen to me!"

    Lyuben ignored is mother as he fired spell after spell at his mother angrily. She whipped Lyuben’s spells out of the air as they flew towards her.

    Ụ̶͐s̵̳̃ĕ̶͜ ̶̌ͅy̴͈̏o̵̬͗u̷͔̎ȓ̴̠ ̷̝̍p̷̣͋a̸͉̅í̸̟n̴̟̈.̶̘͘ ̸̳̈́Ṯ̴̀u̷̼̽r̵̩̋n̶̻̚ ̷̢̌ĭ̸͉ṭ̷͛ ̷̗͌t̴̯̿o̶̳͒ ̵̱̄p̶̲̀o̷̦͋ẁ̵͎e̸̓ͅr̷̻̂.̵̬͛ ̴̀ͅG̵̨͊i̴͈͝v̴̧̽ë̴͔́ ̶̦̒t̸̢̊ẖ̶̊e̶̫̎ ̵̺̄q̷̼́ŭ̷̻ḛ̸̔e̸̟͛n̷̗̓ ̵̇ͅw̸̳̓h̵̤̔a̴̗͗t̴̥̓ ̴̖̓s̵͉͝h̸̞̏ḛ̷̈ ̴̨͊d̶͔́ẹ̵̒s̴͈̕e̵̙͠ṛ̶̈́v̸̢̾e̸̟͗s̸͇͋.̷̝͛

    Lyuben drew on the magic in his rose, creating multiple fireballs. Each one burned with the bitterness he had towards his mother. He thought about her face the day his boyfriend died. Her horrified look to mask the ugly demon hidden beneath her skin. Lyuben thought about the true villain his mother was. The one who almost killed Ayden.

    Lyuben launched the dark flames with surprising speed at his mother, but she dodged every single one.

    “Fight back!” Lyuben yelled, “Fight back!”

    “I don’t want to. I don’t have to. I love you, Lyuben.”

    “Don’t lie to me! I’m over your lies.”

    Lyuben cast a beam of energy towards his mother. She raised her sword, which glowed again with heavenly light. The beam bounced off her sword and burst through the ceiling into a guest room on the second floor.

    “Lyuben, I devoted my whole life fighting the magic you wield. You cannot win! You don’t have to do this.”

    “I can do whatever I want!”

    Lyuben plucked another petal off the rose. He cast it towards the ground, but Hjordis slashed it out of the air with her whip.

    “Lyuben, please…” The tone of Hjordis’s voice was no more a plea to her son. It had become a dire warning, “I don’t want to do this. You’re my son.”

    “I am no son of yours.”

    ---
    RIP Arin (or not)

  • Come on @shadow123 don't leave me hanging, whereis the rest?
  • Lol I'm quite busy right now, but chapter 18 is coming soon :)
  • edited May 2021
    Imilia's heels clicked on the hardwood flooring of her room. She had cleaned herself up, as well as her clothes, and had changed into her normal outfit: black boots and gloves, light gray jacket, and darker gray skirt. Her head was still sore, so she forwent her hat, instead braiding her hair and pinning it up onto her head.

    She knelt down, picking up the last fly corpse off the ground, and depositing it in her jar. She screwed the lid on tightly and slung it over her shoulder before grabbing Sim. The adjustment in weight could throw off my abilities. Best get some practice in, I suppose. God knows I won't need it against Lyuben, but we're leaving for the city soon. There's sure to be plenty of unsavory characters there.

    Imilia left her room, making her way through the fortress and out to the main training grounds. A squire intercepted her as she stepped out into the sun. He opened his mouth to speak, but Imilia cut him off.

    "You there, squire. If it's no trouble, make yourself useful and set up some straw dummies over there for me, please." He thought for a moment, biting his lip before responding.

    "Well, with all due respect, if I may make a suggestion, most magic users test their skills against Madam Mimosa. She's over in the-" Imilia scowled.

    "Yes, I know where she is. I'd have her blood covering the walls in less time than it'd take for her to even cast a spell. I'd be happy to test on a living target, but I don't think others would approve." The squire's expression easily betrayed his nervousness.

    "Ah, well, yes of course, we couldn't have that happening, now could we. Only issue is, we like to reuse the straw dummies as much as possible, you see. Could you maybe use a tree, or something like tha..." He trailed off as he noticed Imilia staring at him. A subtle fury shone in her eyes.

    "Are you volunteering to act as a target then? I'll give you a head start to try to escape." She smiled sweetly. The squire scrambled off, and returned quickly with several dummies, which he arranged fifty or so feet away. Imilia smiled at him again to show thanks. 

    She quickly dropped the smile as she slung the jar of flies from over her shoulder and unscrewed it. She took a deep breath in, putting her hands out in front of her. One by one, she bent her fingers one at a time before extending them again.

    With her warmup complete, she raised Sim, and started to pour mana into the marionette. The flies started to quietly hum, but as more and more sprung alive through the power of magic, the sound grew in intensity.

    Gone was the low drone of the wings they had before. With their new glassy texture, the sound was a grating whine. The sound of glass on glass rose in intensity as the last of the flies left the jar. 

    It was a piercing sound, stabbing like a sword straight through the ear and into the mind. Imilia bit her lip slightly, but the sound didn't bother her as much as it did others. As she looked around, she could see people nearby clutching their ears, grimacing from the relentless assault of the noise.

    She flicked her marionette, and the flies shot across the training ground, the pitch of the whine rising to an unbearable scream as they bore down on the dummies. They went through the first dummy instantaneously, leaving it nothing more than a cloud of straw where it one stood. She pivoted the swarm, toward the second dummy, this one adorned with a dented breastplate. She arranged the flies into a line, and sent then one by one through the dummy. The flies flew through the breastplate easily and out the other side, sending showers of hay out the back.

    The last dummy had both a breastplate and a helmet, so Imilia decided to try something interesting. Instead of going straight through the armor, she went around it instead. She sent the flies around the breastplate and through the eyeholes in the helmet, and moments later both pieces fell to the ground with dull clanging sounds. Imilia grinned, failing to suppress her immense self satisfaction.

    Yes, I think this will do very well. Very well indeed...

  • I'mma be honest here... main holup is finding suitable art
  • art crawl
  • @Corwinnn you keep appearing -- who exactly are you rooting for?
  • Well, the person I was rooting for died....

    Can I choose someone else?
  • @TheDukeOfPork This should probably be in general chat, but yes, probably.
  • @TheDukeOfPork Conscience is the answer
  • Gasp! It's propaganda!
    I'm still deciding....
  • edited May 2021

    Chapter Eighteen - Flashback to Reality (part 1)

    “To think that my own son...the child I love so much would become the very thing I sought to destroy...”

    Hjordis wiped away a small tear from her face as she deflected blast after blast from Lyuben. She lashed out with her steel whip, attacking Lyuben for the first time during the fight. Lyuben backed away from the queen’s attack. He tried to lash back at his mother by conjuring dark, shadowy spears, but Hjordis deflected each of them with her sword.

    Lyuben pressed his hand on the ground, causing geysers of abyssal energy to erupt through the cracks. Hjordis spun out of the way of one and deflected the purple magic back towards the prince with her sword. Lyuben ducked, and the magic crashed through the wall.

    Hjordis sprinted towards Lyuben, but the cleric conjured a wall of dark flames between them. The queen lashed out with her whip again. It penetrated through the wall, catching Lyuben by surprise. The boy tumbled backwards out of the way. His wall of flames dwindled out and Hjordis resumed her attack.

    “You can’t beat me with magic, Lyuben. I’ve conquered legions of mages far more talented than you.”

    Lyuben cast three more shadow spears towards his mother. She swung her sword in a graceful arc, deflecting all three. The queen’s movements were calculated and precise, yet still extremely quick and powerful. She never seemed to make a mistake.

    Ṯ̸́h̸̡͒e̷̯͝ ̷̤̿r̸̩͋o̵̭̿s̴̛̞ę̸̒,̶̳͊ ̵̤͂L̷̜̉ý̵̝u̶̗͘b̶͔̈́ê̵͎ń̷̬.̶͍́ ̶͚̚F̸͉̓o̷̧̊l̷̰͐l̴͕̈o̶̩͗ŵ̶̭ ̷͂ͅm̷̪̐y̴̧͝ ̶͕̋l̸̹͝e̴̖̒a̷̠͐d̸͔͗.̴̝͋

    The prince grit his teeth. He used his rose to draw abyssal power around him as he dodged Hjordis’s attacks. Lyuben waved his hand, creating seven orbs of dark magic. They swirled around him like a shield, keeping Hjordis at bay. 

    Unable to continue her attack, the queen paused. She observed the orbital movement of each orb for a moment before charging again.

    Wh-what should I do now?

    T̴͇̈́ą̵͆p̶͚̂ ̶̠͝i̵̮͝n̴͎̕t̶̼́ő̶̭ ̷̜̈́ȳ̴̩o̵̜̅u̶̻͛r̴̜͊ ̷͚̽ä̸̖́ņ̵͑g̷͚̿e̸͕͘ř̸̗.̸͂ͅ ̶̱͝F̴͙̋e̷̬͆e̷̔ͅl̶̬̾ ̶͎͐i̵̠͒t̶̻͛.̵̛̭ ̵͙̈́C̸̫̒ã̸͍s̴̤͑t̸̞̂ ̶̹̿a̴̰͐l̸̦͒l̷̯̆ ̷͑ͅș̷̿e̵͈̓ṿ̸́e̴̡͆ń̶̞ ̸̹̉ȍ̶͎r̶̖͘b̴̹̑s̵͓͊ ̴̱͘t̷͍͋ó̸̫ŵ̷͙ȃ̷̟ȓ̴͜d̶͓͆s̷͎̀ ̸̮̿h̸͍̃e̵̤͗r̶̠̀.̵̎ͅ

    I have no idea how to control them! I didn’t know I could do half of this before now!

    Y̵̩̕o̴͓̚u̴̫͒ ̷̧͝d̵͈̕ȏ̷̮n̸͚̓'̴̥͝t̶̤̐ ̸̛̪h̴͖̅ä̷͜v̷̙̓ẽ̵̫ ̴͚̓t̶̝͌o̷̡̓ ̴̝̓k̸̹̕n̴̻̈o̵̝̾w̶̙̓ ̴͇͌w̸̪̿ḣ̴͇ȃ̷̲ẗ̵̙́ ̸͔̓ỹ̸͕o̵̞̍ǔ̶̩'̴̈́ͅr̵͇̕e̷̛̱ ̷̯̎d̷͕͝ö̶̮́i̴̛̱ń̸̳g̴̢̍,̷̮̇ ̶̥̽L̶͉͆y̴̰̾ů̵̠b̷̧̈́e̸͖͘ņ̸̌.̸̰̽ ̴̫͋A̶̗͗l̷̼͆l̸̫̕ ̶̩̀t̶̻̍h̷̺̽á̵͚t̸͉̚ ̶̗͛m̴̫͆a̶̬̐t̸͎̐t̷͍̅e̶̱̕r̴̞̀s̴͚͘ ̴͚͗i̵̻̿s̶̩̀ ̶̬̾ṫ̷̳ḧ̵̻́a̸̧̓t̷̨̀ ̶̬̄y̵̺̿o̴̼͂ù̷̪r̸̩̓ ̶̺̆m̷͇̈ỏ̴͍ẗ̶̡h̸͖͒ě̷̘ŗ̷͋ ̸͙͝ĩ̸̧ŝ̷̟ ̸͖̀d̸̟̃e̸̪͑a̵̡̐d̵̟͘,̸̪̌ ̶̙́r̷̪͋i̷͎̋g̶̫͑ȟ̸̦t̷̻̉?̸͓̔

    Right…

    Lyuben closed his eyes, focusing on his hatred towards his mother once more. Oddly enough, he felt more power coursing through his body. Dwelling on his bitterness made him feel stronger. It made him feel better, in some way.

    Lyuben pushed the seven orbs towards the Queen. Hjordis whirled her whip in front of her. The same golden light surrounded her weapon as it cleaved through each dark orb. Lyuben conjured another shadow spear and flung it at Hjordis while she was distracted. Using her sword, she deflected it back towards Lyuben. The boy stumbled out of the way. Lyuben tried to craft a lightshield to compose himself, but the queen was too quick. She swept Lyuben off his feet with her right leg.

    Lyuben fell backwards onto the ground. There were tears streaming down the queen’s face as she pinned Lyuben to the ground with one arm. She held her sword above her head, ready to finish the brief fight. Memories of her time with Lyuben flashed through her mind in the moment of finality:

    Hjordis was sitting upright in a hospital bed. Her husband was right next to her and she held a small baby wrapped in a blue blanket in her arms.

    “What will you name him?” a medic asked.

    Hjordis looked lovingly into the baby’s curious brown eyes. She gently stroked his forehead. “I’ll name him...Lyuben.”

    The baby laughed a little bit.

    “You like it, don’t you? Never let anything get in the way of love, Lyuben. Remember that even when I’m gone.”

    She paused. She tried to go forward, but couldn’t seem to move her sword.

    Hjordis released Lyuben from her grip. “I- I can’t kill my own son...”

    Ď̴̪ȏ̴̜ ̶͝ͅi̵̜̓t̸͙͒,̵̢͆ ̸̫̐L̶͍̕y̴̪͐u̴̧͠b̶͈͘ê̷͔ṋ̸͝!̵̦̑ ̷̖̎N̷̪̚ò̸͓ẁ̸͖!̴͉̂

    The cleric blasted his mother with violent flames. She screamed as the flames pummeled her into a bookshelf across the hall. Heavy books cascaded down from the top shelf before the whole shelf collapsed on the queen. Bruised and burned, the queen struggled to get out from under the heap of wood and books. The prince flung another spell toward the queen. She barely managed to raise her sword to deflect the energy.

    “Lyuben...my child…”

    ----

    (What, shadow? You're telling me you're still not done with the fight? Nope. Nope, I'm not haha)

  • Hjordis be like:


  • edited May 2021
    looks like now Lyuben has the high ground. I think I might be rooting for Lyuben now.
  • Ch. 18 pt 2 (sorry for the suspense)

    ---

    More memories flashed in Hjordis’s mind:

    Hjordis was in a dark alley. The only light was one from the window of a room four stories above.

    Hjordis was holding a disheveled mage against a brick wall. She had a dagger held to his throat. Pieces of a blood rose laid on the wet ground next to her.

    “I heard about your son, congratulations.”

    “What?”

    “Let me tell you one thing.” The mage grinned, showing off his yellow teeth. “You can’t keep the abyss from him forever. It’ll penetrate into his life. It will return to yours. You can’t protect him forever.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Rakhadi was never gone. He lives through you and your son despite your efforts.”

    “I won’t let the abyss touch him! I can protect him! I’d give my life for him.” She pressed the dagger against the man’s throat harder. “After you’re gone, there will be no person with abyssal powers left in the kingdom.”

    “Except you and your son,” he laughed.

    “Shut up!”

    “As you wish...just know that the abyss will return. And it will be your son that brings it back to Malterra. What will you do when it returns?”

    “I will destroy it just like I did before.”

    “You will kill your son?”

    “HE WILL NOT FALL TO THE ABYSS!”

    “Let’s play hypotheticals...what if Lyuben unlocks Rakhadi’s power? Your power which you foolishly refused. The power you single handedly tried to destroy.”

    “I will free him from the Abyss’s madness if- if I have to. But we will never get to that. Ever.”

    “And that’s love?”

    Hjordis sliced the mage’s throat open. Blood poured all over her hands and battle dress. She let go of the dead mage, allowing him to crumple to the ground. The rain would wash the blood away by morning.

    “I will protect my son. I will keep him safe even if he hates me forever. It is my duty. I know what the abyss can do… I don’t want to kill my son.”

    Hjordis screamed at herself.

    “All those years of torture,” Lyuben seethed, “Ends now.”

    “Lyuben, listen to me. I’m trying to help you!”

    “That’s what you said the night you killed my boyfriend! That’s your same reason for trying to kill Ayden!”

    Lyuben fired a blast of magic at Hjordis again. She ducked, and the wall behind her was obliterated.

    “Lyuben… what is happening to you? This is not the boy I remembered.”

    Lyuben cast another spell at his mother. She blocked it again with her sword. The golden light surrounding it absorbed the spell again.

    K̸͗ͅe̷̙͗e̸͓͆p̸̗̾ ̴̠̔p̵͇͑o̷̘͐u̵̳͂r̸̫̂ī̷͜n̵̪̏g̴͔̒ ̷̫̋y̴͔͌o̸̗̔ụ̶̈́r̷̺̊ ̸͎̈ḙ̴́ḿ̵͉ô̷̺t̴̫́ì̸̥o̴̠͆n̶̪͒š̶̜ ̷̪̍i̶̖͂n̶͚̈́t̸͎͑ȯ̵͖ ̶͎̂y̵̞̅o̴̗̊u̸̘͛r̵̨̒ ̵͇̽p̵̧͆o̶̝̾w̸̠̚e̶̒͜ṟ̴̛.̶̤́ ̵̺͋I̷̗̍n̵̜̾ẗ̶͓ö̷̮ ̶͓̑t̷̙̉h̸̭̒e̴̱͆ ̴͖̈́a̸̛͈b̶̠͊ỹ̶̻s̸͔͊s̶̬͗.̴͇̎ ̴̼͂T̴̥̆ḧ̸͖i̶͓͐ş̶͆ ̵̺̇b̴̥̓a̷̗͒ẗ̸́͜t̵̹͊l̸̹̓ẹ̵͊ ̸͎́ǐ̵̹ș̵͝ ̸̬̈́n̶̺̎ò̸͔t̴̠̽ ̴̺͋ỏ̶̤v̶͓̎ȅ̶̖r̴̠̀ ̸͚̄u̵͔̍n̶̦̈́t̸̯́ì̶͜l̸̗̋ ̴̥̄H̷͂͜j̵̯̚o̵͚͂r̷͈̚d̸̲̑i̵̮͌s̵̛̼ ̸̜͆i̶̯͒s̴̱͝ ̵̛͈d̸̨̑e̵͇͋ḁ̵͒d̸̮̀.̸̤͆

    Was my boyfriend really that dangerous like my mother said? Is Ayden?

    T̴̳̒h̸̫̄a̶̧͠t̴̤̓'̶͙̆s̸̤͋ ̴̟̓n̷̙͠ọ̴̾ẗ̵̻ ̴͚̍ḭ̵͊m̵͉͝p̸̞̋o̴͎͗ŗ̵́t̸͉̍ḁ̶̍n̶̍͜t̸̤̒,̷̻͆ ̵͇̈́L̵͔͑y̴̨̅u̵̗͗b̴̮͗e̷̹͠ṋ̷̎.̸̗͑ ̶̟̈́F̴̗͐o̴͕͝c̸̣̆ǘ̷͕s̵͍͂ ̸̘̽o̵͕͑n̵͕͌ ̷̠̇t̴̡̀h̶̖̽é̸͇ ̴͈̊f̵̗͂ḭ̴͒g̵̜͝ḧ̷͕́t̴͕͛!̵͕̈

    Wh-what if I’m the one that doesn’t know anything? Am I even fighting for the right cause?

    Y̵̌ͅo̵̓ͅu̶͈͠r̴͇͛ ̷͇̄m̷̮̿ọ̶̉t̸͓͒ĥ̷̖ȇ̵͎r̵̞̂ ̷̫̆t̵̰͠o̷̰̚o̴̮̿k̴̺̈́ ̵̪͝ė̸͍v̷̟̈́e̶̥͝r̷̖͝y̷̻̐t̶̟̄h̵̳̊i̸̳̎n̷̳̚g̴͕̏ ̷̞̐f̸̻̕r̴͖̀o̷͎̿m̵̘̾ ̵̳́ȳ̷̫o̷̳̓u̷̼͋,̷͍̎ ̸̹̀d̶͔́i̸̡̎d̸̹̽n̸̠̈́'̸̐͜t̷͍̊ ̵̞͗s̵̟̏h̷͆͜e̵͇̒?̸̜̏

    Well, yes.

    T̶̘̚h̴̹͐e̴͎͆ñ̷͜ ̴̝͆y̵̜̒o̵̯͆u̶͓͊r̵̭̅ ̶̮̓o̶͍̚ṇ̵̈́l̷̛͈y̴̮͐ ̴͎͠g̸̣͝o̵̥̾a̷͔̾l̵̹̽ ̷̞̈́s̴͍̿ḫ̸̾o̶͍̎ȗ̵̬l̴̬̈́ď̷̖ ̶͙͆b̶͔̋è̷̙ ̵̥͛t̵̰͠ȍ̵̥ ̸͠ͅe̵͔͝x̴͍̊ą̴̌ç̵̈́ṭ̸̈ ̵̞̀y̷̪͝ǫ̸̉u̷͔͌r̴͚̾ ̶͖̀r̷̞͝ȉ̴̞g̴̡̃h̸̰͆t̵̫̿ḙ̸̛ö̶͇́u̶͎̐s̸̜̀ ̸̈͜r̴͉͝e̷͔͌v̴͉́ḛ̸̍n̷̬̑g̶͎̿ė̶̼.̶̹̈́ ̶͗͜S̶̜͠h̵̘̔e̵̫̔ ̶̬̆t̵͕̓ö̴̧r̷̦̽ẗ̴̹́ṷ̸̄r̶͑ͅe̸̮̐d̴͍̎ ̸̲̈́y̸͈͛ō̷̙u̸̬͛,̵̯̎ ̸͈̑Ḽ̵̀y̴̺̿ü̸̯b̶͕̌e̶̤͝n̷͍̓.̸̰͋ ̴̜̕S̷̞͂h̵̖̽e̵̡̐ ̴̠͌n̶͇͝e̵̝̾a̷̖͊r̴̢̊l̷̛̝y̴͈̏ ̷͙͘k̷͕̑į̴͌l̷̠̂l̷̘̆e̴͍͛d̷̬̀ ̵̘͂Ȧ̶̝ÿ̸̦d̴̡͊ḙ̷͑n̴̖̑!̵̛͕ ̸̣͒D̸̥̈́o̴̭͠n̴̟̓'̷͈͗t̵̫͠ ̶̬̇y̵̳̆o̶̤̾ü̵̱ ̷̨̚r̴̬͑è̵̺m̶̒͜ĕ̴̗m̶͉͠b̵̝̈́e̸̬͑r̷̝̊ ̶̗̋h̶̦͆o̸̧̚w̶̙͝ ̸̑͜y̶̞̐o̴̦͗u̷̦̓r̵͙̒ ̸̯̿m̶̝̅o̴̙̎ť̵̳h̸̦̕ë̷̟r̶̥̾ ̵̥̌o̴̹̚r̵͇͗c̷̼̒h̵͕̓ë̶̢́s̷̖̓ţ̸̍r̷̨̐ä̴͓t̸̜͠e̴̖͂d̸̯̃ ̶͕̓y̵̟̅o̴̡͝u̸̖͗r̵̞̍ ̵̦̎b̸͔͗ȏ̷͇y̵̮̽f̷̻͐r̴͖̈́i̸͚̓e̸͚͊n̵̘̂ḋ̵̟'̶̩̉ś̸͙ ̴̝̌d̵̢͝e̸͉͐ȃ̴͇t̵̖́ḧ̴̘́?̷̗̅ ̷̯͝D̵̄͜o̸͚̚n̷͓̿'̴̜͗t̵̗̊ ̶̤̀y̴̺̿ö̴̯u̸͓̇ ̷͕̍r̸͖̅e̶̛̙m̴̭̉e̴͔̒ḿ̶̼b̸̩̑e̵͇͗r̵̰͗ ̷͓̈w̵̙̒h̶͍̕ǎ̵̙t̸̲̐ ̶͖͑I̷̥̔ ̸͍̏s̴̢̈́h̵̭̿o̷̪̐ŵ̸̝e̵̙͝ḑ̸́ ̴̤͌y̷͚͂o̸̒͜ṵ̸͆?̶̠͘ ̷̠͌D̵̡͂o̷͓͆ń̴͇'̸̙̒t̶̰̑ ̴͇̿y̵͎͊o̷̱̓u̶̺͊ ̶̛͚ẁ̸̞a̵̳̋ň̵͍t̸̠̚ ̷͉͊h̶͓̍e̷̫͐r̴̝͘ ̷̜̔d̷͇̑e̷̞̓ȧ̵̠d̴̻̍?̷̮̉

    Yes, but-

    T̶̤͑r̵̙̅u̸̔͜s̸͔̽ṭ̴̎ ̴̱͊ť̶͔h̵̘̔ë̶́͜ ̴̡̿ạ̴̔b̵̪̑y̴̦̽ș̷̽s̸̛̜,̶͎̋ ̸̰̕Ĺ̶̜ỵ̷̈́ǘ̷̯b̵̺͒e̶̤̐n̴͌ͅ.̷͉̉ ̷͇͘I̵̺̔t̸̔ͅ'̵͍͝s̸̨̈́ ̸̩̉t̸̩̒h̸̝̋e̸͔͆ ̴̤̈́ő̴̢n̸̞̚l̷͔͆y̶̡͝ ̷̺͋r̴̡͗è̴͙a̵̰̋s̷̨̊ö̵̩́n̵͉͆ ̶͇͛y̷̦̆ō̸͇ǔ̶̧ř̷̘ ̵͠ͅl̷̟͂ó̵͎v̷̮̒e̴̖̿d̶̳͌ ̶̝͌ò̶̝ñ̶̦é̶͎ ̷͓̀í̶ͅs̴̩̽ ̴̘̀a̴̻̓l̴̝̒i̶̫͘v̸̨̈́e̷̠͗.̴̦͝

    “Why did you kill him anyways? Why did you want me to live in misery my whole life?” Lyuben launched three sparkling projectiles at the queen.

    “I never wanted that!” the queen protested, “I wanted you to be safe.” The queen swung her whip in a wide arc, destroying the three spells. “From this.”

    “You were not protecting me. You were only increasing my pain.”

    More of Hjordis’s memories resurfaced in her mind, particularly about Lyuben’s boyfriend:

    Hjordis was sitting in the large throne room. There were pure silver decorations all across the walls and the thrones were studded with brilliant ancient gems. Her husband was next to her in a slightly larger throne. The tall red doors opened, allowing the bright sunlight to flow into the room. Rainbow patterns of light were painted across the room as the light was refracted in the large crystal chandelier. She watched as Lyuben entered the magnificent room with another boy.

    “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend.”

    Hjordis stiffened a little bit. There was a dark aura surrounding the boy next to him.

    “What’s his name?”

    A loud screeching sound filled Hjordis’s ears over Lyuben’s voice, then the scene faded to another one:

    Hjordis was disguised in a tattered blue cloak as she followed Lyuben’s boyfriend of seven months down a long pathway. It was nighttime and the only light that illuminated the pathway was the light of the mysterious moon. It was red today, like the color of blood. She had an odd feeling about the boy ever since he stepped foot into her castle.

    The boy entered the outskirts of Malterra, where traces of the abyss still remained. The boy opened a door, revealing a large room. Hjordis couldn’t see much from her position except for one small thing. A rose on the table.

    She knew what it was right away. It was a blood rose. The last one that went missing for years. This boy had to die.

    “He knows about the abyss. I was right. I can’t let him influence Lyuben… I can’t let the abyss return to Malterra.”

    Hjordis maneuvered out of the way of one of Lyuben’s spells, then lashed out with her sword, scraping Lyuben’s hand. He dropped his boyfriend’s precious rose.

    “No!”

    “Everything comes at a price, Lyuben. Even love. I’m sorry…"



    ---

    (more to this fight coming soon!!)
  • @shadow123 ; I feel like this whole conflict could have been solved by some simple explaining. So does that mean that Ayden is also abysal because he was getting hammered by them?
  • @Tonysparks Like I established earlier, Lyuben is the descendant of an abyssal emperor who ruled Malterra. Hjordis also has access to those powers, but she was one of the few individuals who had the willpower to refuse the abyss's powers.

    As for Lyuben and Hjordis, their fight is past explaination. The damage Hjordis has caused to Lyuben has already been done. There is no way to turn back anymore. Lyuben has views his mother as a monster of sorts and in Hjordis's eyes, her son has become the very thing she sought to destroy.

    I'll explore more of this dynamic in the next chapter.
  • Part 13: Pact cont

     Conscience woke up. The voice was gone, and she was floating above the ground, black and purple magic holding her up. She floated a few feet off the ground, the balustrade seemingly hundreds of feet up. She felt for her new reserve of magic, before using it to float herself up to standing, landing lightly on the ground. Brushing invisible dust off her dress, she looked at the ground, where the grass around her was dead and blackened. A piece of hair fell into her face as she looked up, and she looked at the little strand in shock. It was greyed out, seemingly like an old woman. 

     “Another price, I suppose,” she said to herself, voice tinged with sadness at the loss of the blackness of her hair. Rearranging her hair to fit the color better, she frowned, the strange intrusive feeling of the voice having returned.

     

    À̷̢͖̯̔͂̏̆̋̇͛̌͜͠h̸̦͠,̵̳͙̝̭̺͉͈̣̦͚̲̄̈́̈́̋̽̓̇̄̑̋̑͆̓ ̴̛̩̯̻͙̟̞̟͓̦̥͕̹͒̏̎̈̑̿ͅÿ̷̱̫̟̼̖̪͎̤͉͉́̎̇̽͒̋́͐o̵̙̘͂̔̔u̶̧͙͔͔͈̫̯̭̗̱̺͐̂͆̅̑̕͝͝ ̴̧̭͉̘̜̩̤̘͖͎͙̣̠͑̾̇̋͂̋͆̌̐̚ḣ̶̢̜̬̮͈̺̤̣̞͈̗͉̼̼̈́́̋͌̑̃̅͆́͂͝͝ͅạ̶̡͈͖̬͇̹͓̮̝̪͛v̷̘̫̋̊̕͝e̴̡̺̥͔̝̺͓͎̜̽̀͊̎ ̴̗̈́̓̽͜a̸̩̱̣̪̱̱̥͊̀͌ͅw̵̧̛̼̱͉̻̺̞̲̗̣̞̲͗͌̔̿́̐̂͝ͅa̸̤̫͚͓̗̿̑͛̊̂̏͝͝͝k̴̨̛̯̳͇̱̲̤͕̰͈̼͋̔͋́̓e̵̖̟͓̺̦̽̋̅͆̌͑̓̒͂̚͝͠n̷̢̡̟͉̪̯̤̭͙̘̥̯̙̜̹̽̀̆̐͌͌̀͂̀̕̕e̵͖͒͂͋̀̏̅d̶̡̡̛̹̲̞͔̯͇̙̱̥̗̳̑͂̒.̴͉̝̺̝͖̼̙̜͇̳̆̄͌͐̾͂̚͜ ̶̭̥̏̉̒̆̀́E̸̡̧̹̮͔͇̘͕͓̫͒a̵͔̞͈̔̊͒̓̿̾̚g̸̨̼̤͔̟̭͎͍̈ė̵͔̖̬̼̙͇̂̀̊́̽̕r̴̛̝͋͑̾̐̉̐͋̇ ̵̛̪͓͝t̸̡̩̮̹̯̗̻̦̗͙̝̼̙̏̈́͋͌̕o̷̗̗̭̯̣̦̖͚̩̥͍̹͂͜ ̵̣̳͍̹̜̻̪̳͙͓̇̉͌́͑̈͛̄̕̕t̵̼̅ě̵͕͓̮̗͎̪̮̯̤̞͓̼̈̑̃̈́̉̍̈́̚̕͜ş̷̛̬̯̯͈͓̺̯̈́̂̒̎̀̾̐̎͑̇̋̓͝ţ̸̡̮̠̳̲̣̼̲̉̕͜ͅ ̵̢̱̭̣̱̝͍̞̳͗̄̽̄̋o̷̡̨̟̬͎̘̘̖͋̊́̇̒̀͒ͅͅu̴̢̳͍̺̹̪̭̙̯̤̩̙͙̅̔̽̏̍̎͗̒̎̌͌̕t̸͕̼͍̖̊̂̏̓ͅ ̷̧̛̩̝̺͓͓̜̦͙̳͐͒̾̀̆͐̈́̚͜ÿ̷̧̨̛̖͚͕͙̬̲̩̹̳̥́͊͂͗̋͋́̋͛͂̑͜ͅơ̸̊̑͊͑̃͆̀̏͜ų̴̢̨̼̺̗̞̜͇̮̥̭̖̝͊̅́̒͌̕͝͠r̷̡̢̛͔̺̣͇̳̘̭͍̼̗̞̲̯͒̓̈́͗̅͝ ̶͍̗̣͕̘͋p̴̡̱̲̗̗̙̉̾̊͛͌̔͋̑ǫ̸̫͓̝̓̋͌̈̔͜͝ẁ̸̹̳̬͑̈̂̎̓̌͆̋͆̎͠ȩ̶̳̙̦̭̯̱͍̪͍̱́r̷̨̡̛̛͓̮̱͇̟̙͉̲̥̣͇͚̖̓̓̄͌̒̄͌͠?̵̨̪̣̺̘̯̲̱̖̽̀̍͛̆̆͂̇̔͐̉͒́͋͝ 


    The voice had returned to its normal, abrasive tone.

     “Of course. What else would I do?” Feeling for the magic, she started drawing on it, from a well with no apparent end.

     

    Y̶̨̧̧̞͔̠̗̦̪̥͍̙͉͓̋̓̋̓̄̀̈͗̿̽̏̃͘̚͠o̷̹̳̖͍̞̍̂̃ư̴̧̰̗͇͙̜̖͔̫̎̓̓̃̉̾̀́̐͐͝͝ͅ ̴̣̬͔̮̘͉̟̬̦̬̠̳͕̂́͋̋̽̋̈́͑͑̌̍̇͐̑͜ą̷̢̬͕̝̻̻͈͓̱̼̺͖̙́́́̿̌̉͠r̴̨͍͉̩̭̗̤͉̭̘̜̫̦͍͕̀̌̃̃͐͝e̶͎̳͈͈̞͊̈́͠ͅ ̶̡̧̧̛̙̥͉̞̟͎̖͍̒̑͆̾̄̾͆̆̅̋̓̑͜͠ͅn̶̡̞̭̪̟̫͖͗͘ō̶̠̹̲̹͋̇̍̓̂̂̓͛͆̐̑̓͆ ̷̢̭̥̮̻͕̲̜̲̙͈̋̓́̃̽̀̀̀̌l̸̛̙̉̌̒̊̌͊̅̀́̔́̕͘ö̵̟̲̾̄͊͂n̷̛̬̿̃̆̇̉̐g̷̟̩͕̭̮̜̥̙͙̺̮͓͛̊̆ͅḙ̷͎̲̾̃̇͐̈͒r̵̈̂ͅ ̴̱͓̣̮̤̯̣̽̍͋̇͊͗͊ḇ̴̛̼̮̙̩̀̅̅ô̵̧̧͍͕̦͇͍̣͚̩̼̳͇̈́̾͜ű̴̥̬̽̔n̴̡̡̜̯͉̝̰̝̻̘̦̜̯̼̫̽͆̾̚ḑ̶̫̙̥͈̲̣͇͖̹̦̖̠͙̅̑̀͛͋̊͝ ̴̢̨̲͍̗͕̗̠̮͔̦̦̜͓̋̾́͂̆̐͌̈̇͆́͋̄̕̕ḃ̸̨̧̲͍̬͔̬͚̬̳̫̫͐͗̆͛̍͛͐̄͊̈́̐͘y̶̨̺͇͑͐̓͛́͂͝ ̴͙̪̼͇̻́̀͗̌̔y̶̨̰̼͎̝̳͕̥̐o̴̡̳̪̙̠̲͎̙̾̀̐̌́͋̌̿̒͘ư̵̛̼̦̿̃̿̈̑̋̄̕͘͝r̷̹̦̻̹͙͔̬̲̺͔͙͚͌͜ͅ ̶͎̠̺́́̆͊m̷̮̱̦͚̜͈̘͈̦͍̬͈̱̰͊́̽̆̓̂͒́̓̒̉͘̚͠o̷̹̼̲̔̿̏̾̇́̋̕̕r̵̢͚̦̂̐̏͑̋t̵̨̘̗͚̰̯̪͍͌̿͗̌̎̆͆̍̅̉͘a̸̠̾̊̔͗̾̀͋l̵͙̎̾̌̍͒̌̈́͠͝͝,̴̡̹͇̙̹̫͛̊̅̒̍̓̊̋͛̚͠ͅ ̸̘̐̔̍̒͊̀͛͒́̆͌̄͝͝s̸̡͛̍̊̎͛̋̚͘͜͝͝ȏ̵̧̢̨͎͕̞̭̼͔̼̠͚͚̙͇̌ù̵̢̢̲̯͎̺̗̕̕ļ̸̨͙͓̗̳̦̗̦͉̼̌͆̓́͌̀͒̕͜ ̷̧̨͎̘̘͈̖͔̰̹̻̘̬̾̿͘m̴͓͚̮̠̠̙̼͉̃̎̈́̊́̕͜͝ȧ̷̖̗̰̼̯̙͍̣̮̍͋̌̈́̐͐͌̏̓̂̇̚͝͠ğ̷̡̧̧̮̪̱͎̯̗̘̘̠͉̃͌̑̽͆̑̊̈̃͌̚͝͝į̶̧̛̛̫̣̫̥͇̤̘͎́͂̈́̌̊͗̕c̶̲͎̓̉̄̓͆̃̎͠͝.̴̪̽̃̓͋̔̊̀̓̎͐̉́͛͠ ̸̧̠͔̺̝̫̺̱̼̼̔͗̀Y̷̨̨̺̫̯̲̤̮̮̆̌̍̅o̸͕̒͋̅ű̶͍ ̴̛̩̠̥̬͓͍̓̈̆̑̀͒͊̀̌̆͝͝h̷͓̫̜͎̮̿̒͋͛̒̿̄̋̚͘͘͠ͅa̴͇͓͛͆v̸̲͓̐͐̎͑̿͌́̑̆̅͆͒͠͝e̴̡͍̹͙͉̲̯͙̘̽͐̃̆̃͗ ̶̹͛̓͗̈́̄̇̚̕̚b̵̨̳̪͕̞̘͑̿̓e̷̢̛͙̱͓͈̟̦̘͉͉̟̣̲̊͗̈́ć̵̢̣̘̳̱̻̞̹̯͔̓̎̽͐̆̈́͛̚̚͘͝o̶̡̨̙̲̳̹͔̠̘̹̙͗̉͒͐̀̉͛̆͘͜͜m̷̥̱͉͆̀͆̋͒̅̌̀͘ę̶̹̂̀͂́̚͝͝ ̷̙͛̈͠s̴̤̻̥͚͍̣̖̮̺̉͛̊̓ǫ̴̤̭͎̣͕̯̀͜m̷̨̛͔̮̺̟̪̼̄͛̇̔̽̈́̋̀̍̐̄͝͝͝ę̶̢͖͓̰̳͍̦̤̝̝̩̩̼̈̓̽͜t̷̛͖̯͖̗̹͓̞͈͇̺̗́̏͊͂̈́͋̊̌͌̃́ḧ̷̨̡̳̻̦̲͓̪͔͕͍͇͇͇́̏̂̚͘ͅi̸̹̠̿̇̑͋̓̕̕n̸̛͖͍̪̯̗͇̠͈̘̣̊̌̔͌̑͐̌͝g̵̨̛̬̟̮̬͈̊̈̓̇̈́͛̈́͛̒͌̾̿͗̕ ̶̦͔̪̭̏̍̊́̉̂̍̈̇̌͌̑͜͝g̸̨̢̱̥̻̙͉̣̼̬̺͎̱̘̿̓̄̓̆̿̊̓̎̆̈͘ͅr̴̡̖̠̪̤̫̅͊̓͐͗̈̾̂̇͋̀͘ȩ̵̡̡̛̖͓̘̱̩͈̩͕̗̒̇̈́̋̃͛̈́̕͘͝͝a̵̛̮̙̹͉͎̺̩̰̳̟̗͆̾̏̈̐̒̇͠t̸̛̠̭̦̠̖̞̱̟͙̿̿̽̓́̃͌͑̉ę̴̧̖͚̖̖̳̖̖͚̻̀͜͜r̷̛͓̥̋̒̈́̏̎͛̓͌͛̃̔͘͝.̸̛̛̠̮͖̬̙͎͉̺̥̯͎͆̐̀͒͑͋̈́̉͆̋͘

     

    “The power’s changed,” Conscience said wistfully. “The soul debt will no longer bring me mana, no? The dark magic stops that, but it will amplify the effect, and get over the barrier of having to touch the person.”

     

    Y̶̧̨̩̘̮̮̥̺̥͇̜̙̲̣̌̆̀́͗̔͝͝͝o̵̡̧̮̖̻̼̗̮̹͕͔͖̣͗̔́͘͜ủ̶̡̑̀̽̔̋̾̒͝ ̸͔̣̦̄̐̓͑̎̇̈́̌̆̌̚͝ạ̸͖͋͐̃́̎͝ȓ̵̛̳̞̙̮͙͉̞͍̾͆́̈́̚̕͝͝͝͠ę̶̢̯͔̠̖̲̫̟̪̞͈͚̋̆̇̃̑͝ ̵̘̬͉̖͈̖̦͍̝̄͒̓̉̇̎͐̈́̑͗̓͝͝m̶̡̖͖̪̱̙̱̱̹͖̯̹͑̓͗͌̕̚u̶͕̲̘̖̯̱̅̌̔̌͝ͅć̷̡̡̢̪͕̭͉̞̣̈́́̀̔̀̇̇͘͝͝h̸͓͕͌͗̿͑̑̓̈́͝͝͠ ̷͍̙̱̑̑̎̏̅̽̅͗̊̏m̴̹̮̠͙̪͔̂̒͛̇̓̀̀̄̐̏͛̏̀̚̚ͅơ̵͕̱̱̠̦̯̻̤̩̬̐̾̒͗̊̄͜ř̴̢̛̜̺͈̳͉͉̌̈́́͛͐̃̎̕͜͝͠ẽ̴͎͍̣̰̩͉͖̫͚͐͋͌͜ͅ ̴͉̪͉̣̰̣͔̳̞̽̉̂̽̋̂ĩ̷̜̗͕͈͔͙̊̂̀̈́̕ṅ̴͎͍̘̤̆̀̂̈́̀̇̾̂̽̿̈́͆͘ ̴̨̛̛͔̼̻̙̂͒̽̈̎̽̓͝ţ̴͍̠͔̮͍̊̈́̃́̃͜͝͠͝u̴̡̢͎͉͈̰͚͔͐̓̑̑̒͋̈́̂͒̐͛͛̍̑̐n̵̡̝̻͓͈͙̩̳͎̻̼̎͗̒͑̀̽͐̚e̶̡͕̺̱̻͙̩̦͇̪̬̝̖̗̽͊̃̈́̈́̇̈ ̴̨̟̻̘̱̜̣̯̟̲̹̗̭͍̩̈̅ṭ̷̢͖̮͔͇̯̭̮̼́̈͆̚o̷̳͎̟͉͋̌́͋͘ ̴̢̧̩̜̊̌̏̒̕y̴͇͎̤͙̪̗͛͂̉̎̊̉͐̄̿̈́̑̀͆̕͝ò̸̡̧̢̝͚̗̟̹̝̣͒̍̑̀͗͆̏̀̒ų̴̛̼͍͒̂̑̔͆̍̓̌̒ȓ̵̨͓̥̫̘͓̘͈̥̟̻͈̜͘͠ͅ ̵̢̛͚̯̙͆̾̉̾͆́̔̋͂̓͛̏̈͠m̶̨͙͖͕̤̮͙͓̩̦̱͖̀̂͊͜͠ą̶̦̞̹̖̪̹̝̭͔̥̝̬͑̀͌̊̾̈́̔͆͋͜ḡ̷̦̫̈́̍̃ȋ̴̳̋͐̀̀c̷̱̪͊͌͛̅́̂̕͠ ̶͍̥̻͙̥̈́̾̒̈́̑͘ạ̸̢̛̳͈͇̠͇̏̅͛̒̌̄̀̑͂̀͑͗͘l̶͖̻͙̹̦̪̫̳̣͉͙̩̤̏ȑ̴̡̢̛̪̺̫͙̤̭̞̖̇͑̿̍̕̕̕͝e̴̻̲͖͑͌͂̔͂̋̈́̎̈̆̿͐a̶̧͇̤͎̫̗̹̹̰̲̺̳̻̾̈̏̃̿̇̿̕ͅd̶͓͙͖̩͎̊́̓̽̈́̂̈̋͛̐̎̾̔́͜y̴͖͚̩̋̑̌̑̓̓̽͊̐͒̕͝.̷̢̧̢̥͍̬̯͇̤̺̼͉̳̜̎ 


    Conscience nodded slightly, before running to the nearby fortress wall. Jumping as she was about to hit the wall, she spun, landing on her feet, before letting loose a blast of the dark magic at the ground. Still spinning, the magic propelled her upwards, the ground it touched withering, and her dress flew wildly in the wind. Just as she began to fall, she reached a hand out, a lasso of the magic tying to a balustrade, and she swung up, the lasso shortening. 

     Landing on the balustrade, silk fluttering, she smiled from the rush of power. Normally, I’d be extremely drained. The pact was worth it, damn the consequences. Jumping downwards, she used the magic, again, to propel herself towards the housing quarters. As she dropped downwards, her dress twirling in the wind, she suddenly remembered that Lyuben hadn’t been at the feast, nor at her battle. Strange.

    A strange feeling tugged at her gut, and her distraction caused her to trip over a rock on the ground. Landing on her stomach, the fall cushioned by her magic, her face lay directly in front of a neatly folded piece of paper, with her name written in a fine script on the front. Picking herself up, Conscience grabbed the piece of paper, unfolding it and reading. 

     Written inside was an address, and small, hand-drawn map. The location of the address seemed to be on the outskirts of the city. The feeling tugged again, as if pulling her to go there. Once again, she summoned her power, shooting herself into the air, the strange feeling of doing something that should take up extreme amounts of power, but it barely making an impact in her well of power. 

  • Part 13: Pact cont

     Flying over rooftops, the dark blasts stopping just short of withering houses, Conscience spun through the air, exalting in the amount of magic she could control. Dropping soundlessly from the air, she rolled as she came into contact with the roof of a fine town house. Shouldn’t waste power like that, she scolded herself, before jumping off the edge, cushioning the fall with a small blast of power, landing on a sidewalk. Immediately pushing herself into a run, she began to jog, reaching the house in a matter of minutes from her point of landing.

     Breathing slightly hard, Conscience stopped in front of an abandoned house, clearly so from the lack of apparent souls inside. Bending down, she touched her hand to the ground, over a set of footprints leading in. Summoning her magic, a pair of boots, made out of her purple and black, appeared.

     “Lyuben’s. Strange.” Dispersing the conjuration, she stood up, entering the house. The door opened soundlessly; hinges oiled well. The inside was a homely place, a main room connected to another room by a door, which hung slightly off its hinges, behind which lay a bedroom. Getting closer, Conscience began to notice obscured details, as if hidden in a hurry. Sword scratches in the wood paneling around the bedroom. A broken couch, moved to look as if naturally done, but slightly old blood crusting it ruined the façade. What looked like dripped, red paint on the floor was actually blood, and hastily scooped together shards of a broken vase were covered in dark, gut-wrenching magic. Conscience wandered into the bedroom, stepping over splintered wood, as a feeling deep within her tugged her towards a desk, shoved into the corner of the room, specifically a drawer within.

     The drawer opened to reveal a folded piece of white paper, exactly the same as the one in the mud. Unfolding it, Conscience frowned, the words mixing together in her eyes, before reforming as a paragraph. 

     Conscience. Should you want answers beyond those the treacherous demon gave, meet me in the Malterran capital within the next five days. I will find you.

     No signature was signed, and the handwriting was generic. 

     Everyone promises answers, but they are all lies. Who knows, maybe this won’t be. Conscience strode out, flipping her hair, then flying off, propelled by dark energy, leaving a 

     Like Lyuben, Conscience will not be available for interaction until she returns.

    Conscience's new card, to show her new powers from the demon pact:



    (card links to mtgcs version)
  • I"M WRITING MY STUFF UP FINALLY 
  • edited May 2021

    ~ DEPARTURE


    The final day had passed, and with it, the Pax family left for New Tommia. While clearing the waste left from Ytsix's stay in the nearby board, a few papers were found in the trash bin. The individuals within the board sought to bring them to the keep to return them to Ytsix, given he competed in the tournament, but nothing came of it. The papers had several bits and pieces of info, but much research information was obscured by black oil and such. What remained legible was... not much.


    ...leaving for the Laboratory... Kaigan... oil. I tried to warn... insisted on close contact...

    ...research shows... spreads through metal... reports of oil... elsewhere...



    Update: Oil... harmless. Everything should be fine...
  • Well, it looks like his status on discord was writing, so I bet he’s working hard. I’m also hoping to post something soon after I finish my pile of homework.
  • edited May 2021

    Chapter Nineteen - The Bitter Clash (part 1)

    Ayden and Ryan had led each other into the courtyard. They were still fighting and crowds of citizens were gaping at them through the gates.

    Ayden lunged forward with his sword, but Ryan blocked Ayden’s attack again. The gash he received on his hand from Lyuben’s blood rose a few days ago was really taking a toll on Ryan. Meanwhile, Ayden’s adrenaline helped him fight off the pain he still felt from Arin’s torture.

    Ryan blocked blow after blow from Ayden, not allowing anything to get through. Ayden was giving him no openings, but he was blocking all of Ayden’s opportunities too. Ayden thrust at Ryan’s chest, but the knight rolled out of the way. Ayden thrust again, this time cleanly slicing the top off a rose bush.

    Ryan stomped on the messenger’s foot with his metal boot, causing Ayden to scream out. The messenger tried to swing his sword at Ryan’s side, but that attack was blocked too. While their swords were locked together, Ayden shoved Ryan with his free hand, causing the knight to stumble backwards.

    “Finally! This is my chance!” Ayden yelled, out of breath.

    He swung his sword with as much force as possible. Ryan got down on his knee to block Ayden’s attack above his head. Both of his hands were occupied trying to keep his blade study. Ayden kneed the knight’s face and slammed Ryan’s head with the hilt of his sword. Ryan collapsed unconscious.

    “I won't kill him,” Ayden muttered, “I can’t. It’s just...not right. All that matters is that Lyuben is safe.”

    Ayden tried to take another step, but his rush of adrenaline had worn off. His whole body was aching terribly from Arin's torture. Citizens outside the castle gates, who were familiar with Ryan, were booing at the young messenger. Some were throwing rocks at him now. 

    “Get out of Malterra!” he heard one say. “Ban all gays! Follow the king!” another shouted. That one really hurt. The pain and insults were just too much. Ayden collapsed on the soft ground next to Ryan as well.

    ----

    Meanwhile, Lyuben was still dueling with Hjordis. The boy’s hand was bleeding and his magical rose laid across the room. Lyuben tried to fire more spells at Hjordis, but she whirled her sword in front of her, causing them to ricochet back towards the young mage. One of his own spells caught Lyuben in the chest.

    Lyuben toppled backwards, falling right next to a pile of armor and weapons, where the Malterran knights once stood before Lyuben murdered them.

    “Wait!!”

    Hjordis stopped.

    “Why are you able to repel my magic so well?”

    Hjordis paused for a moment. Standing from a distance, she began, “I was once like you.” To prove her point, Hjordis opened her palm, allowing tiny shards of magic to swirl around her slender hand. The queen shuddered, and destroyed the shards.

    “I lived in a time of fear. A time of conformity. A time where speaking out against Rakhadi and the mages of the blood rose legion was considered suicide. Fear struck individuality out of the hearts of people. I could see their evils. The evils of the abyss that corrupted them. Of course, my grandmother, mother, father, and I were part of a very small rebellious group located in the outskirts of Malterra. My grandmother and I both could wield Rakhadi’s powers, though my grandmother was much more powerful.”

    Hjordis’s voice turned bitter. “Despite my grandmother’s strength, she gave into the abyss. To her abyssal powers. She led a group of blood rose mages to the rebel camp, allowing them to kill everyone but me. I was only ten years old. For some time, I took solace in the abyss. I found comfort in solitude. But, I also realized that I would eventually become like Rakhadi if I continued on my path. By the age of fifteen, the blood rose legion’s corrupt rule had become even more evident. They were rounding up and killing anyone who made even an offensive joke against them. I realized that I was the only person outside of the legion with knowledge of abyssal magic. I had run hundreds of experiments concerning my magical powers. I was trained in sword fighting by Ryan, the greatest knight of Malterra, and researched more about the abyss with one of the greatest magic students from a far country, Arin. My greatest discovery was about the connection between silver and the abyss. It is the strongest repellent of the abyss and my greatest tool against my enemies. I descended into the dark depths of the abyss when I was seventeen, and forged my silver sword using the abyss’s raw power. My sword is the bane of the abyss, yet it’s still the abyss at the same time. Then, I vowed never to use magic again. Ever.”

    “So, to solve everything, you killed every single mage connected to the abyss in Malterra? That’s just?”

    “I did what I had to. And I must do the same now. Mother-son talk is over Lyuben. I hope you enjoyed the story.”

    Hjordis raised her sword, ready to strike down Lyuben, this time there was no hesitation. She thrust her sword downwards. With his uninjured hand, Lyuben reached for a fallen knight’s sword. He whipped it in front of him, blocking Hjordis’s attack.

    “Shall we play with swords now, mother?”

    (The last part of the fight will be posted within the next few hours!!!)
  • *Cue Duel of the Fates*
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