The Dance of Chaos [IC-Fantasy-OPEN]

[Castle Crashers]

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

As soon as Julie started speaking.. Celio's smile slowly disappeared, leaving only the hollowness in his eyes.. and the despair. The black haired boy remained completely silent as the brunette girl told him all of these things, as she took yet another step, taking his wounded army into her hand..but he didn't seem to be listening to her, his dead eyes fixated on something in the distance, on something that clearly wasn't there. She tried to heal his wounds, but she couldn't do everything.. the boy had cut his arms again and again, in a desperate frenzy to get more blood for the magical ritual that he was trying to initiate..and that knife, the knife in his hand... there was something.. there was something off about it.. it seemed.. it seemed to be wrong, somehow, and Julie could certainly feel it. And she looked back at him, to meet his lifeless gaze...Celio just dropped it, the dark knife falling down. "Some of those scars.. they.. they disappeared..back when I was.. in that prison.. it's.. not right... I have to.. I have to remind myself..that you need pain.. you need pain to dominate.. the magic.. to bind it.. to your will.."

And then, the crimson eyed boy just.. fell on his knees, on the blood covered ground, staining his black clothes, as red tears started to roll down his cheeks again. "It's not right.. death his horrible.. no one.. no one wants to die.. no one wants to leave this world..b-being under the rule of those c-cruel gods.. it's not fair.. it's not right.. I will.. I can set them free.. I know that.. they're not happy.. you can't feel it.. but I can.. their screams, all of the pain, the suffering, the eternal torture, the pain..how can you not hear it? How can you not feel it? They're screaming and screaming and begging for me to help them to save them, all of them, everywhere.. I can't.. I can't stay in silence anymore, death is everyone, and I can feel it all..they know me, I was here when they died, I know it, and they're asking me, they're beginning.. I have to.. I have to help them.."

Sobbing, the black haired boy covered his ears with his hands, as blood still continued to drip from the cuts.."Just end it.. end it all.."

And then.. Celio looked directly at Julie.. and she could just see as he turned even more pale than he already was. "I don't.. I don't want.. to die..", he whispered, his voice still strained by pain. "They're all dead.. we were too late.. and it's all my fault.. they killed them.. one by one...I can smell it.. the death.. the blood..I couldn't do anything.. all of it was in vain.. but.... please.. I don't want.." Involuntarily, Celio wrapped his hands around the metallic collar around his neck, as if he wanted to remove it..before he hesitantly touched the scar behind it. "I don't want.. to die.."

As Celio's smile disappeared, Julie's heart ached. He was silent, looking to something in the distant that simply wasn't there, giving him the appearance of being...vacant. Like she wasn't standing in front of him at that moment. As he dropped the knife out of his hand, Julie took his hands in hers instead; she thought it might be better, that way he wouldn't be as tempted to pick up that odd...knife again. He mentioned that some of his scars had disappeared when he was in prison, that it wasn't right, that he had to remind himself that he needed the pain to control his magic... "That was me..!" She told him softly, urgently, holding his hands in hers as she desperately looked for some hint of emotion in his dead eyes. She seemed pleading; desperate. "I didn't want you to keep carrying those scars...I wanted to help you, so I...I healed your arms...you may need pain...but you don't need those marks to remind you of that..."

As he fell to his knees, the girl immediately followed, still holding his hands as she rested her own knees in the bloody ground, her eyes still urgently searching his expression, worried as the blood red tears began to run down his stained face again. He explained that death was horrible, that no one wanted to die, that no one wanted to be under the rule of the cruel gods...that it wasn't fair, wasn't right, that he could set them free...that he knew they weren't happy, that he could feel their pain, their suffering. She listened intently as he talked, taking the time to carefully wipe some of the pained tears from his cheeks with her white sleeves, now stained and dirty. She didn't care, though. He continued, wondering how she couldn't feel it or hear it, that they were screaming and begging him to help, to save them, that he couldn't stay in silence anymore...that they knew he was there when they died, and that he had to help them...

And as he sobbed, covering his ears with his hands, the blood still leaking from the cuts she couldn't fix, he wanted to end it all...and he looked to her, paler than he had been, whispering that he didn't want to die. Her heart sunk. He spoke that they were all dead, that they were too late, that it was his fault...that he couldn't do anything as they were all picked off, that it was all in vain...he spoke that he didn't want something...and she watched as he pulled at the collar around his neck, enough for her to see the thick, ugly scar around his neck as he touched it, talking that he didn't want to die. Her brow furrowed with care, worry, sympathy, and she pulled him to her, into a tight hug.

"You aren't going to die..." She told him softly, gently holding a hand against the back of his head as she held him close. "I won't let them hurt you...not again..." She whispered, closing her eyes as she tried to give him some sort of comfort, anything she could just to make him feel better. "I'm...so sorry I didn't come sooner...I didn't want to leave you...I wanted to...to save you, to help you, but they...they were too powerful..." She hugged him tighter, tears prickling her own eyes. "They said things about you...they told me I shouldn't put my faith in you, that you were a horrible person, but I...I don't believe it, none of it...I know you're good, I know you have good intentions...I'm so sorry you can feel that pain, that sorrow, that you can hear their screaming...we can leave this place..." She told him softly, still holding him closely, desperately, trying to give him all of the comfort and kindness that she really could. "It will go away if we leave...we can forget all of this...none of this was your fault..."

Gently, she let him go, instead looking to the cuts on his arms. Without much of another word, she forcefully ripped a portion of her cloak off, tearing it into makeshift bandages as she wrapped his damaged arms in them. As she did, clear, hot tears began to run down her cheeks. "...I should've never let you out of my sight...they've hurt you...all of them..." She sniffled, her hands shaking as she wrapped his arms up in the bandages. "...I'm so sorry I let you down...I promise...I promise I won't let any of them hurt you anymore...not now, not tomorrow, not ever..." She looked up to meet his own teary eyes, a wobbly smile on her face. "...please, let's leave this place, forget the pain and sorrow...we can be happy...you can be happy...you just...you have to trust me this time..."

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Kroikoy

The little deity just looked at Alina for a few good moments with his empty black eyes...as if he had no idea what to do next.. it was clear that the girl's sudden reaction had indeed surprised him, even if just a little. Rafal on the other hand...well, saying that he was shocked would have severely underestimated just how horrible he was feeling in that very moment. The green eyed boy looked at Alina, opening his mouth as if he had wanted to say something.. but he remained quiet. What could he even say, faced with something like this? What could you even say, when someone that you cared about is ready to die just so that you could survive? And what could you think when as a soon to be knight, believing in the ideal of sacrificing yourself for others.. the girl that you wanted to protect would try to sacrifice herself for you?

But luckily for everyone involved, right before Rafal would have probably tried to desperately fight back or something, which would have clearly meant that his life would have ended right there and then, Morgan answered the little deity's question..and as the weird newcomer was speaking, the small boy finally let go of Rafal's hand, turning around to look directly at poor Morgan. The deity didn't say anything, as he just listened, clearly a little bit intrigued by everything that he was hearing.. and when Morgan finally stopped.. he just giggled.

"After I've been cast out? Oh, you humans, always believing that you know everything...when will your race finally understand that things aren't always as they seem.. but oh well..it's not like I would share the secrets of the world with someone like you, Morgan.", the boy told the Achisian mage, his voice becoming colder and more serious with each of the words that the deity was saying, in the same dialect and accent of Muddy Thyrian as before. But this time, weirdly enough.. all the other three persons who were there with them were suddenly able to understand it. "But still.. I like how you think, mage of the flame and the snake. The world has been too boring for the past few.. how do you humans call it.. years? Playing around directly with mortals can be fun.. but being surprised by them and their actions would be even more interesting. So no one will die here.. and I will just let you all go away.. I'm magnanimous, am I not?"

And the deity giggled around, turning around to face the clearly horrified Alina. "My apologies for scaring you like that.. I wouldn't have killed the poor knight anyway, he's far too funny to watch.. and you shouldn't have been afraid by little bet with the snake mage anyway...being my slave is not such a cruel fate as it might seem to be..but oh well. I have given you the powers that you need now, and if you will ever need by help, don't be afraid to ask.." The boy took a step back, clearly smirking beneath his mask of bone. "Unlike others, I actually listen to prayers.. and it's a shame that humans always forget about me, sooner or later.."

And then, the boy literally turned into black smoke, which quickly disappeared in the air.. leaving them alone. In a rather awkward silence, for a few moments..but Rafal was the first to say something. "Why.. why did you do that, Alina?", he asked in a low voice. "Why.. why would you do that? Why would you put yourself in danger.. for me? You shouldn't die.. you can't die.. and.."

But the boy never managed to finish what he had started to say, as he was interrupted by a scream from somewhere above them..one that Rafal knew all too well. A griffin. And sure enough, if any of them would have also looked to the sky, they would have quickly noticed a small group of paladins riding on their griffins. And not before long, from behind them, they were able to hear the sounds of horses and men. And as they turned around, they noticed a group of knights riding towards them, dark red and white flags with griffins bound to their lances, fluttering in the air.. and on a lance longer than all others, the two griffins of Wyzkia, each of them crowned. The group stopped in front of them, as the knights calmed down their horses, while a few of them broke off from the main group, allowing Rafal, Morgan, Alina and Wulf to see an old man in a silver armor. With ashen hair, a long gray beard, and dark blue eyes.. and a crimson crown on his head.

Without losing a moment, Rafal picked up his jagged sword from the ground where it had fallen, taking a step forward before he fell down on one knee, tightly gripping the sword's handle with both of his hands and holding it in front of his chest as he looked down, in silence. The man was old, and he looked to be weak.. but there was a strength in his eyes that simply imposed respect. Without saying anything, the old man looked at Rafal for a few moments.. before he looked directly at the others, one by one... the moments passing in an excruciating silence.

Wulf could only really stand by in fear as the whole ordeal went down, still terrified, unsure, and embarrassed about his state-of-being. The little deity spoke of never returning, atleast for now, but Wulf was terrified of the idea that it could be far from the truth. What would happen the next time? Would he kill one of them? Who knew if they could ever truly be safe after that? He was shocked, shaking, standing in silence as the others began to speak. All of this...this drama, this horror...it wasn't what he expected. It wasn't what he planned for when he left the orphanage. It made him want to go back, back to the life he had, to his friend, the women that cared for him...he wanted to be...home...

And it was perhaps then that a loud, horrible scream filled the air, causing Wulf to jump slightly, and as he looked to the sky, he found that they were griffins...and then, the sound of knights and men approaching. He was struck with fear once more, wondering if they were, in fact, coming for him...he was a bit of a thief in more than one city, after all...but it seemed that they didn't really care for him...and as the knights parted, a man with gray hair and a beard, armor, and a crown came into view. He watched as Rafal picked up his sword and bowed, and Wulf almost seemed to quiver as the old man looked intently at each of them...

He shivered, keeping his gaze to the grass as the king looked to them. He felt someone as lowly and no-named as he had no right in meeting the eyes of a king...especially in the state he was in. Yet it wasn’t but a moment that he raised his gaze again as a distressed neighing filled the air, and Wulf turned to find that it was, in fact, coming from Jakob. The commotion was too much for the horse, as it worriedly stamped its hooves into the dirt, wildly swinging his tail before...he bolted. Wulf gasped, wide eyed as he watched the horse turn tail and run for the woods with another neigh. Without a word, without a second thought, Wulf bolted after the horse at full speed, not caring that he was rudely leaving the presence of a king in the process. He couldn’t let him get away...he couldn’t lose his friend again...he...couldn’t or didn’t want to go through that again. Not again, not again, not again...

[Tracian Empire]

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Celio said nothing as Julie let him go, remaining silent as she talked, as she wrapped his wounded arms in those makeshift bandages, as she cried, as she apologized, as she promised that she wouldn't let anyone hurt him again.. and she looked directly into his eyes, she could only see hollowness..and the tears, as crimson as the color of his eyes, that just continued to roll down his cheeks, without any sign that they would stop soon. A few really tense moments passed.. until the black haired boy finally seemed to notice the presence of the girl in front of him. And he smiled.. but with that emptiness and despair in his eyes, and with the bloody tears.. it looked terrifying. "It's too late though...I'm dead.. am I not? I knew it from when I saw them... the two of them.. slaughtered.. in a pool of their own blood, behind that golden throne..and then there was a third one, with a spear through her chest, impaled against the wall.. and there was blood anywhere.. I knew back then, that death was coming. And then all the other ones.. died one by one.. I was the last.. that I remember.. I don't remember who they were, or why we were fighting.. just the despair.. that horrible despair that made me feel as if I was sinking, drowning.. and then the blade.." And then the boy chuckled. "Did you ever see your headless body, while your head is flying through the air? There is nothing, for a moment.. and then the pain.." Celio chuckled again, but it sounded.. empty.. wrong. "It's funny.. I don't even remember my name, and yet I've had nightmares of this moment, again, and again, and again, every night, every time I fell asleep.."

And then again, silence. "I'm already dead, I have to be.. I'm just a.. monster.. caught between life and death. And for as long as I am here, I have to follow the orders of my Master.. of my Lady.. I am just Invidia's slave, after all. Nothing else matters..so I can't come with you.. it wouldn't change anything.. I would still be chained..the only escape for me.. is true death.. I can't take any more of this despair, any more of this pain.. I have to finish.. what that blade started.. I shouldn't be here.. I shouldn't be alive.. I have to be dead. I have to die..if you die willingly, it's not that bad.. you can actually pass on.. unlike all these tormented souls filled with pain all around us.. they died in horrible ways, and now they are stuck here, at the border between the worlds..I don't want to hear them anymore.. I want silence.. forever.. and ever.." And as he said that, Celio looked away from Julie, in the distance, at something that clearly wasn't there.. before he smiled again, looking back at the blue eyed girl. "Don't you want to.. escape it all? To leave this cruel world behind? I don't remember why.. but back then, before the blade hit me.. I lost.. I lost everything.. I was truly, truly alone....even back then.. I know that I wanted to die... so after I stop the torment of all these poor souls.. don't you want to die too? Don't you want to come with me? We can die.. and we can escape it all.. we can escape the sins, the virtues, the Gods... we can be free.."

---

Voivoideship of Łówice
Northern Wyzkia

Trying to cast a spell against the entirety of the Wyzkian army there had certainly been a mistake. No matter of how powerful he was as an undead creation, and no matter of how much mana he had stolen, Bronn certainly still had his limits. Attacking an entire army with such a spell had been then a horrible mistake, as that very army had quite a large number of mages that was ready to respond. It wasn't about only taking out the source of the spell - many of the Wyzkian mages immediately set up defensive spells to protect themselves and the soldiers, which allowed the Wyzkian forces to hold their ground in front of the undead advance. The priest with their staffs of light continued to hold them up in the air, and the Wyzkian line resisted. And the soldiers of the white and crimson griffins counterattacked.

The Paladins started their attack from up in the air, using their griffins to quickly detect the mage who was casting this extremely powerful spell - Bronn. By diving as much and as quickly as possible, they moved too fast for the undead archers to do much - and they launched a storm of burning arrows and spheres of fire and light at Bronn, before going up in the air, and then repeating their attack again and again. That was however just a distraction though, since while Bronn was trying to resist their attacks and the attacks of the mages on the ground, an old man, the Grand Duke, though, Bronn didn't know that, quickly chanted a spell, and a huge glowing sphere of fiery light appeared above the two armies, its holy light burning and weakening the undead who were the closest to it.. and following the movement of the Duke's hand, the sphere was thrown directly at the undead commander, without mercy.

---

Somewhere
The borderlands of the Ecclesiarchy

The knight was certainly not a person who would trust random strangers, so even as the newcomer applauded him, the golden eyed boy continued to tightly grip the shaft of his spear. He wasn't going to show it, obviously, but he was at least a little bit worried about this strange Loroi.. but he couldn't risk provoking him, so as he approached the girl, the knight remained quiet - but ready to intervene at the smallest sign that this man had any intention of hurting the girl that he had just saved. And then the Loroi asked her what she was - but before the knight was able to say anything, the girl started to speak, even if she was clearly confused..

And then she called herself it, saying that she didn't know who she was.. but it was clear that she didn't consider herself to be person.. if she even knew what a person was in the first place. And then...she showed that she had no idea what the word safe even meant.. she said that she was safe, as confusing as it sounded. The knight looked at her for a few moments, and for the first time.. pretty much ever since she had firstly seen him.. his expression changed.. just a little. His eyes were still dead, and mostly empty.. but there was just.. a little bit of something in them.. saddneess? Pity? Both? And then for a moment there, the boy gripped his spear even tighter, and for a moment there.. he actually seemed to be angry.

"You're.. an angel.. that I know.", he said, in the same blank voice that he always had. "I don't know.. much about it... I was only assigned to that post.. a week ago." The blonde haired boy looked at Az for a moment, before looking back at her. "You're not an.. it though.. you're a person.. like us all... did they ever.. give you a name?"

---

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

The old man that Rafal had knelt for and that Alina had called "Your Highness" looked at them all for a few moments, in silence, before he dismounted his horse. Taking a few steps, he stopped right in front of Rafal, who looked at him and offered him his sword, in the same way in which he was holding it, meaning that the old man only had to grab the handle and to push in order to pierce the boy's chest with the sword's blade. With the same respect, Rafal bowed his head again. "Moje życie dla państwa", he said in a low voice, in an almost ritual like manner. My life, for the realm. And the old man took his blade, looking at it for a few moments, before he helped the boy stand back up. And before he was able to do anything, the old man hugged him in a nearly paternal way.

That's when Jakob started to neigh, and the horse suddenly ran away - but unfortunately for Wulf, the knights had already mostly surrounded them. While the Grand Duke's man had been too surprised to react in time and to stop the horse, one of them, who had dismounted his own horse, managed to react in time - grabbing Wulf by his arm and pulling back, stopping the boy. "Whoa there, where are you going?", the man asked, a little concerned.

[Charlia]

Somewhere
The borderlands of the Ecclesiarchy

The knight was certainly not a person who would trust random strangers, so even as the newcomer applauded him, the golden eyed boy continued to tightly grip the shaft of his spear. He wasn't going to show it, obviously, but he was at least a little bit worried about this strange Loroi.. but he couldn't risk provoking him, so as he approached the girl, the knight remained quiet - but ready to intervene at the smallest sign that this man had any intention of hurting the girl that he had just saved. And then the Loroi asked her what she was - but before the knight was able to say anything, the girl started to speak, even if she was clearly confused..

And then she called herself it, saying that she didn't know who she was.. but it was clear that she didn't consider herself to be person.. if she even knew what a person was in the first place. And then...she showed that she had no idea what the word safe even meant.. she said that she was safe, as confusing as it sounded. The knight looked at her for a few moments, and for the first time.. pretty much ever since she had firstly seen him.. his expression changed.. just a little. His eyes were still dead, and mostly empty.. but there was just.. a little bit of something in them.. sadness? Pity? Both? And then for a moment there, the boy gripped his spear even tighter, and for a moment there.. he actually seemed to be angry.

"You're.. an angel.. that I know.", he said, in the same blank voice that he always had. "I don't know.. much about it... I was only assigned to that post.. a week ago." The blonde haired boy looked at Az for a moment, before looking back at her. "You're not an.. it though.. you're a person.. like us all... did they ever.. give you a name?"

She didn't understand what a lot of his words meant. She was 'an angel'? What did that mean? Was it like 'safe'? Was it good or bad? And she was 'a person', too? Not just 'it'? But, they'd always said that. She didn't know who she was supposed to believe, them or the boy in front of her. Even if he was right, how many things was she? Safe, a person, an angel, was she all of them at once? Was that possible? She supposed it was. After all, if she could be cold and hurt at the same time, why couldn't she be other things at the same time? Yes, that made sense. She still didn't know what he meant, though.

"Angel?" she repeated questioningly. "Person?" And that last word, 'name'. Did they ever give her a name? They gave her lots of things. They'd given her that soft, warm thing for a while, before it had fallen apart. They'd given her the painful, deep marks on her body, the long red and white lines and the purple and blue spots that hurt so much if anyone touched them. They'd given her that awful burning thing on her back. Was one of those a name? She looked down at herself, trying to figure it out.

"Name," she muttered, and let the soft, warm, red thing that the boy had given her slip off of her shoulders, holding it out. "Name?" she repeated again, as if asking if that was what it was. Or, maybe that wasn't it. Maybe it was the marks they'd left. Was that it? She pointed at them, standing out so visibly against her worryingly pale skin, and tilted her head. If that wasn't it, maybe the burning thing was. She couldn't really point to that, but she angled her body slightly so that it was visible, nestled between her wings. Those were all things they'd given her--well, the red thing wasn't, but they'd given her something like that once and it might have been a name. Maybe. She just didn't know.

One of them had to be a name, right?

[Castle Crashers]

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Celio said nothing as Julie let him go, remaining silent as she talked, as she wrapped his wounded arms in those makeshift bandages, as she cried, as she apologized, as she promised that she wouldn't let anyone hurt him again.. and she looked directly into his eyes, she could only see hollowness..and the tears, as crimson as the color of his eyes, that just continued to roll down his cheeks, without any sign that they would stop soon. A few really tense moments passed.. until the black haired boy finally seemed to notice the presence of the girl in front of him. And he smiled.. but with that emptiness and despair in his eyes, and with the bloody tears.. it looked terrifying. "It's too late though...I'm dead.. am I not? I knew it from when I saw them... the two of them.. slaughtered.. in a pool of their own blood, behind that golden throne..and then there was a third one, with a spear through her chest, impaled against the wall.. and there was blood anywhere.. I knew back then, that death was coming. And then all the other ones.. died one by one.. I was the last.. that I remember.. I don't remember who they were, or why we were fighting.. just the despair.. that horrible despair that made me feel as if I was sinking, drowning.. and then the blade.." And then the boy chuckled. "Did you ever see your headless body, while your head is flying through the air? There is nothing, for a moment.. and then the pain.." Celio chuckled again, but it sounded.. empty.. wrong. "It's funny.. I don't even remember my name, and yet I've had nightmares of this moment, again, and again, and again, every night, every time I fell asleep.."

And then again, silence. "I'm already dead, I have to be.. I'm just a.. monster.. caught between life and death. And for as long as I am here, I have to follow the orders of my Master.. of my Lady.. I am just Invidia's slave, after all. Nothing else matters..so I can't come with you.. it wouldn't change anything.. I would still be chained..the only escape for me.. is true death.. I can't take any more of this despair, any more of this pain.. I have to finish.. what that blade started.. I shouldn't be here.. I shouldn't be alive.. I have to be dead. I have to die..if you die willingly, it's not that bad.. you can actually pass on.. unlike all these tormented souls filled with pain all around us.. they died in horrible ways, and now they are stuck here, at the border between the worlds..I don't want to hear them anymore.. I want silence.. forever.. and ever.." And as he said that, Celio looked away from Julie, in the distance, at something that clearly wasn't there.. before he smiled again, looking back at the blue eyed girl. "Don't you want to.. escape it all? To leave this cruel world behind? I don't remember why.. but back then, before the blade hit me.. I lost.. I lost everything.. I was truly, truly alone....even back then.. I know that I wanted to die... so after I stop the torment of all these poor souls.. don't you want to die too? Don't you want to come with me? We can die.. and we can escape it all.. we can escape the sins, the virtues, the Gods... we can be free.."

As he smiled hollowly at her with distant eyes, sad eyes, the bloody tears still trailing down his cheeks, Julie felt her heart sink even further than it had before. Her smile faltered as he spoke that it was too late, that he was dead, that he knew it when he'd seen two of them slaughtered...she assumed he meant those he'd fought with briefly under the Faith...and it further proved such a theory when he spoke of the others being killed as well. A...gruesome sight, it sounded. He spoke that he'd known death was coming, that he was the last to die, that he didn't remember who they were or why they were fighting, just the despair that made him feel he was drowning, and the blade that followed. He chuckled, but her deep look of sympathy and pain only grew. He spoke of seeing his own headless body, that there was nothing, and then...pain. And he chuckled again, but it sounded more broken than before. He spoke that he didn't even remember his own name, that he'd continued to have nightmares of that moment...

He continued, explaining that he was simply a monster caught between life and death, that he had to follow Invidia's orders as long as he lived, that nothing else mattered, that he couldn't come with her because it wouldn't change anything...and, she supposed, maybe...he was right. She had no way to undo his chains, no way to free him from the eternal torment he must've felt every waking moment. He said his only true escape could be death, a real death, that he couldn't take the pain anymore. That he shouldn't be alive...that if he died willingly, he could pass on to the next world...unlike the many lives lost on that battlefield. He spoke that he didn't want to hear them anymore; that he wanted silence. He looked away for a moment, and then smiled at her...and he asked if she wanted to escape too. Her heart was struck with pain. He asked if she wanted to leave this cruel world behind, that before the blade struck him, he'd lost everything...that he was truly alone...that he wanted to die; and that after he put an end to the torment of the souls here...he asked her if she wanted to die, too. If she wanted to come with him. That they could die, that they could escape all the responsibility and worry...to really be free...

And she hesitated, putting her hands over her mouth as fat tears spilled down her cheeks, her expression crumpling. She choked back a sob before she removed her hands, her lip quivering as she moved her hands to his cheeks, wiping away his tears once more. "It's...it's not too late...I know it isn't because I--I can save you!" She cried, her expression honest, sincere...caring. She wanted to help him so badly, but...she feared he wouldn't let her. "I'm...so sorry about what you've had to go through...I'm...so sorry for the pain you've experienced...but..." Her expression grew strong, determined through her tears as she held onto his cold cheeks. "...you aren't dead! I know that much..." She sniffled, letting the tears gather and drip from her jawline.

"If you were dead, if you were really dead...you wouldn't be able to make choices, to think, to honestly feel anything..! Because...maybe being alive isn't a state of body...but a state of mind...and I've been around you long enough to know that you are alive!" She cried, her expression breaking once more. "I wish I could've showed you more before this...more care, more beauty to this world, more trust...I wish I could've made you smile, made you really, truly feel something good..." Her lip quivered as she desperately looked into his sad red eyes. "...I am so sorry I've failed you...I'm so sorry I've let you feel that serving Invidia and death are the only answers...but...if death was truly meant for you...then I would've never found you...if you were meant for death, I would've never healed you...if you weren't here, that tree spirit would've crushed me..." She told him, pleading for any signs of really, truly feeling what she was saying.

"You are meant for greater things than following Invidia and dying, Celio...I know this...I can see it, I--I can feel it!" She cried, pausing a moment. "I...can't make you numb to their pain, their screams...I can't give you silence...but I can show you happiness, I can show you how to overcome this pain and sorrow...the Virtues can--" She stopped. No, that isn't right. "--I can help you escape Invidia...I can find a way to help you...you just...have to give me the chance..." She told him, before she looked down, moving her hands to his as her eyes filled with regretful sorrow. "Yes, the responsibilities and the weight of being an Archbishop can pile sometimes...but--for now...I...I can't die. I can't go...I have to stay..." More tears spilled down her cheeks as she gripped his palms delicately, firm yet soft, like she wanted to catch his attention, to show her determination...yet she was afraid to harm him. "You may think that you're alone, that you're lost, that you have nothing, but it...it isn't true...because..." She sighed softly. "...I'm your friend...or--atleast you're mine...you won't ever be alone or lost as long as I can help...just--" She gripped his hands once more, gently squeezing her eyes shut as the tears kept rolling down her cheeks. "--just let me show you..."

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

The old man that Rafal had knelt for and that Alina had called "Your Highness" looked at them all for a few moments, in silence, before he dismounted his horse. Taking a few steps, he stopped right in front of Rafal, who looked at him and offered him his sword, in the same way in which he was holding it, meaning that the old man only had to grab the handle and to push in order to pierce the boy's chest with the sword's blade. With the same respect, Rafal bowed his head again. "Moje życie dla państwa", he said in a low voice, in an almost ritual like manner. My life, for the realm. And the old man took his blade, looking at it for a few moments, before he helped the boy stand back up. And before he was able to do anything, the old man hugged him in a nearly paternal way.

That's when Jakob started to neigh, and the horse suddenly ran away - but unfortunately for Wulf, the knights had already mostly surrounded them. While the Grand Duke's man had been too surprised to react in time and to stop the horse, one of them, who had dismounted his own horse, managed to react in time - grabbing Wulf by his arm and pulling back, stopping the boy. "Whoa there, where are you going?", the man asked, a little concerned.

As Wulf began to run, his mind and his heart only set upon retrieving Jakob, he felt someone grab hold of his arm, yanking him back at full force, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He asked where he was going, but the boy paid little mind to it as he struggled to free his arm with no avail, watching in desperation and fear as his horse continued to stumble away, and in only a moment, was quickly out of sight. "No!" He yelled, watching breathlessly in the direction Jakob had gone, continuing to struggle futilely as tears welled in his eyes. No...please...don't go... He thought desperately, blinking back the tears before he looked at the knight who'd grabbed him. "Why would you do that!?" He cried, his eyes full of hurt and betrayal. "He got away...Jakob got away...now he won't ever come back and I won't ever be able to find him!"

The tears finally welled up enough to spill onto his cheeks as he fell to his knees, beginning to sob. "How could you do that...he--he mattered...to me, he mattered...and you--you let him...go..." He couldn't believe this...yes, his only friend, the only comforting figure he had in his life, in his short life, was gone. He had no one...he would never find Jakob again, and his heart ached as he cried. Would he just lose everyone that got close to him? Was that how he was destined to live? A life of sorrow and loss? He didn't want to live that way...he only wanted a friend...was that really...so much to ask? He never asked for much, only someone to love him and comfort him, and even that seemed impossible...

...and as he sat and sobbed, only seeming to grow in distress as his thoughts dragged him further down, everyone in the clearing began to feel...an unsettling amount of pain. It hurt...like knives being twisted into every part of your body...like someone was crushing your skull...it was awful, and the young boy had no idea he was the reason for it as he sobbed into the dirt...

[Charlia]

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

The old man that Rafal had knelt for and that Alina had called "Your Highness" looked at them all for a few moments, in silence, before he dismounted his horse. Taking a few steps, he stopped right in front of Rafal, who looked at him and offered him his sword, in the same way in which he was holding it, meaning that the old man only had to grab the handle and to push in order to pierce the boy's chest with the sword's blade. With the same respect, Rafal bowed his head again. "Moje życie dla państwa", he said in a low voice, in an almost ritual like manner. My life, for the realm. And the old man took his blade, looking at it for a few moments, before he helped the boy stand back up. And before he was able to do anything, the old man hugged him in a nearly paternal way.

That's when Jakob started to neigh, and the horse suddenly ran away - but unfortunately for Wulf, the knights had already mostly surrounded them. While the Grand Duke's man had been too surprised to react in time and to stop the horse, one of them, who had dismounted his own horse, managed to react in time - grabbing Wulf by his arm and pulling back, stopping the boy. "Whoa there, where are you going?", the man asked, a little concerned.

As Wulf began to run, his mind and his heart only set upon retrieving Jakob, he felt someone grab hold of his arm, yanking him back at full force, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He asked where he was going, but the boy paid little mind to it as he struggled to free his arm with no avail, watching in desperation and fear as his horse continued to stumble away, and in only a moment, was quickly out of sight. "No!" He yelled, watching breathlessly in the direction Jakob had gone, continuing to struggle futilely as tears welled in his eyes. No...please...don't go... He thought desperately, blinking back the tears before he looked at the knight who'd grabbed him. "Why would you do that!?" He cried, his eyes full of hurt and betrayal. "He got away...Jakob got away...now he won't ever come back and I won't ever be able to find him!"

The tears finally welled up enough to spill onto his cheeks as he fell to his knees, beginning to sob. "How could you do that...he--he mattered...to me, he mattered...and you--you let him...go..." He couldn't believe this...yes, his only friend, the only comforting figure he had in his life, in his short life, was gone. He had no one...he would never find Jakob again, and his heart ached as he cried. Would he just lose everyone that got close to him? Was that how he was destined to live? A life of sorrow and loss? He didn't want to live that way...he only wanted a friend...was that really...so much to ask? He never asked for much, only someone to love him and comfort him, and even that seemed impossible...

...and as he sat and sobbed, only seeming to grow in distress as his thoughts dragged him further down, everyone in the clearing began to feel...an unsettling amount of pain. It hurt...like knives being twisted into every part of your body...like someone was crushing your skull...it was awful, and the young boy had no idea he was the reason for it as he sobbed into the dirt...

Alina had stayed back as Rafal had offered up his sword, her hands shaking a little bit even though she knew it was only proper protocol, it was only right. Watching him with a blade pointed towards his heart was still frightening.

That familiar cruel smile, the same constant reminder that this is all her fault, she did this and she wants to scream, wants to put herself between the blade and the fallen squire, because he doesn't deserve this. She does. She does. She deserves it. She deserves to be hurt. She's a lying whore who deserves to be hurt. She knows that. But they hurt him, instead.

Blood pours freely out of him, and she can barely even think over her own screams.

She shivered, visibly unsettled, until the Grand Duke helped Rafal back to his feet, and then--hugged him, in a way that reminded her of the love she'd seen in other families, the love she'd sought from her own father. But thinking about that only reminded her of what she'd received instead--what she'd lost--and the thought that, no matter what she did, she would never find that love. Not anymore. After all, she had no family, now.

She bit her lip, trying to keep herself under control--but then Wulf panicked, and her attention was immediately drawn to him. She was about to take a step towards him, about to try and help, when it happened.

She heard someone screaming, high-pitched and agonized, and had several moments to wonder who it was before she found herself crumpled on the ground and realized that the screaming was her own.

Her entire body felt like it was being split open, like something was tearing its way out of her body--she could barely think, could barely even breathe through her own screams of pain. Please, please-- the word filled her mind, over and over and over again, and then she was screaming it, sobbing, tears pouring freely down her face as she begged whoever, whatever was causing this to stop, stop, stop. It hurt too much, she couldn't take it. She was going to die, she was certain she was going to die--she could almost feel whatever it was moving inside of her, pushing against its confinement, searching for weak points through which to escape. No, she could feel it. Behind the pain, barely registering in her mind, discomfort, an awful pressure. There was something moving, something--

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, she couldn't bear it, she couldn't stop screaming, could only curl up on the ground and sob in pain and fear.

Rafal, she thought dizzily. Please--please help me--I'm scared, please make it stop--

[Tracian Empire]

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

As Wulf started to cry, the knight took a step back, clearly confused. He had tried to stop the boy for his own well being - Wyzkia was a dangerous place in this time and age, little children couldn't just be allowed to run through forests alone, and besides, the boy had the honor of meeting with the Grand Duke. That was just a horse, after all...but as the boy started to sob, the Duke himself started to notice the commotion, letting Rafal go and taking a step forward. But before anyone was able to do anything.. the pain started.

It was horrible. All those were of course, experienced warriors, who had suffered through countless battles and wars but the pain was simply terrifying.. Some of them fell off their horses, while some of those who had dismounted, including the knight who had stopped Wulf in the first place, fell on their knees. Rafal took a deep breath, as tears started to well up in eyes.. it was.. it was..he fell on his knees too, his sword falling on the ground next to him, and for a moment there.. he really, really thought that he was going to die too. It was unlike anything he had felt before.. not even the wound that he had received, back in that day when he had nearly died, when his father was killed.. not even it could be compared. A spear to the belly was a single would, a single center of pain..but this was as if knives were piercing every single part of his body, as if someone was twisting them in the wounds and trying to crush his skull at the same time..it was the kind of pain that would make you want to die.. just to escape from it..

But then.. he heard a scream.. and a few moments later, he recognized the voice as Alina's.. and that gave him strength.. she was hurt too.. she was in pain too, she was suffering too, she was being hurt too.. he had.. he had to protect her... he had promised her.. that's all that mattered now, and Rafal focused on that thought, closing his eyes, ignoring the tears that were just coming and coming. He remembered the same scene, again and again. Him and his father, in the courtyard of a castle. His father smiling sadly, with a wooden cane in his hand. He remembered what his father had said - that a knight had to be used to pain. That a knight had to ignore the pain in the middle of battle, if he wanted to be able to save others. Slowly, ignoring the excruciating pain, the green eyed boy started to move towards the screaming Alina..

The Grand Duke had also fallen on his knees, but while the pain might have killed a normal old man.. the Duke was certainly not just a normal human. Like Rafal, he found something to distract his attention from the pain, but in his case, it was the hymn of the Wyzkian army that he slowly whispered, Rejoice, oh Mother Wyzkia.

But then, a scream was heard in the skies above them, the same scream of a griffin, and sure enough, one of those proud animals came down, diving with precision and elegance, flying right before them and over the forest before disappearing for a few moments. Once it appeared again above the treeline - it was gently holding a horse with its claws, without hurting him. The griffin screamed again, flying above them and putting Jakob on the ground next to Wulf in a rather delicate manner for such a big beast, before a flutter of its wings sent it high into the sky again..

---

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Once again, the black haired boy just remained quiet for a while.. tears were still rolling down his cheeks, but even if Julie was looking into his sad crimson eyes, even if she was also crying.. sometimes, it just looked as if he would forget that she was there for a while.. as if he wasn't looking at her, as if he was trying to see something that wasn't there. It was as if he couldn't even feel how she was gripping his hands. During those silent moments, he seemed to be empty on the inside.. perhaps drowning into despair or being pushed towards insanity by the sinful and corrupting influence of the night that was to come. The princely that he had when arriving into this place was already broken by how disheveled the beautifully decorated clothes that he was wearing were, and by the bloodstains on his ravaged sleeves and the makeshift bandages over it, but mostly.. it was just that horrible contrast between the hollowness of his eyes and the smile on his face. It just seemed.. so wrong..

Eventually, Celio hesitantly gripped her hands back, finally reacting again to her presence..and he sighed, looking really.. heartbroken, for a moment. "I see..I shouldn't have asked you that..you really shouldn't die.. you should.. you should fully enjoy the gift of life... the world isn't that cruel for you anyway. You're a beloved Archbishop of the Virtues, you're a servant of the Light, you and your kindness can truly help people.. you can help those who are still alive, unlike me..the world needs you, after all. You can live a good life.. " And then the boy shivered, clearly trying to resiste the impulse of envy that he was feeling. How couldn't he envy her? And for people like him, envy was more than just a feeling, it was a poison, running deep through his veins.. "How could I even ask that from you? You should stay in the Light. But I am stuck in the darkness, bound by unbreakable chains. I've did horrible things. I've killed people, I've hurt people, too many too count. I've messed around with magic that is forbidden the Gods, and I try to corrupt people to the Sin that I serve. I even tried to kill you, or to make you fall into envy, you know? Or at least, that's what my Lady has ordered me to do.. but I've never been able to do it.."

Celio took a deep breath, before he sighed again. He let go of Julie's hands, and he once again remained silent, with sadness clear in his red eyes..and still hesitantly, he tightly hugged the blue eyed girl in front of him. "I don't why.. I don't remember much from my previous life, just bits and pieces, pain and despair...but ever since I firstly saw you.. I always had the impression that we had met before. And even if Invidia told me to make you a slave of hers too, or just to kill you.. you always managed to make me control myself, to keep my envy at bay. It was as if you reminded me of what I should be doing, of what would be right to do.. not of what I had to do, of what I was forced to do. And.." Another moment of silence followed. "I still couldn't believe why you showed me kindness.. but you were the first one to be kind to me, even if we were enemies, even if we should have hated each other. Everyone hated me, even before I joined the cult.. the first time when I woke up, without any memories, I entered a village, looking for help.. but would help someone dressed like an Achisian necromancer, right? They hated me.. and they tried to hurt me. And then Invidia found me.. and I envied them just so much because at least, they all had their memories, they all knew who they were.. and here I was, lost. But then, I met you..and you reminded me that kindness.. isn't as bad as it seems to be... thank you.."

"But I can't keep what I am at bay forever.. I am the Archbishop of Envy, the slave of Invidia.. and that won't change.. and tonight, I have to serve my master, I have to serve my cult. I have to give the gift of life to all of these tormented souls around us.. and I have to make those who sin while claiming to be heroes pay for that.." And with that, Celio let go of her, standing up and taking a step back. "So please.. just go away. Go elsewhere, hide, or run away.. and we will meet again once this night of sin is over. If you say here, and if you try to stop me, I will have to hurt you, and I can't.. I can't resist forever.. I already just how much it hurts because I'm trying to ignore just how much I envy you... just go.. and we will meet again, one day, Julie.." And as he said that.. the brunette girl was able to once again see those magical, spectral chains bound to his cuffs and collar.. the symbols of his forced allegiance. Celio smiled once again, and for a moment.. the hollowness in his blood red eyes seemed to be replaced by bittersweet sadness.

And then, the boy turned around, picking his knife from where it had fallen on the ground. He hesitated for a second, putting the blade right over the makeshift bandages.. and then a moment and a cut later, drops of his blood started to fall on the ground again, ready for the spell, as the sun was slowly setting in front of them, heralding the night to come..

[Castle Crashers]

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

As Wulf started to cry, the knight took a step back, clearly confused. He had tried to stop the boy for his own well being - Wyzkia was a dangerous place in this time and age, little children couldn't just be allowed to run through forests alone, and besides, the boy had the honor of meeting with the Grand Duke. That was just a horse, after all...but as the boy started to sob, the Duke himself started to notice the commotion, letting Rafal go and taking a step forward. But before anyone was able to do anything.. the pain started.

It was horrible. All those were of course, experienced warriors, who had suffered through countless battles and wars but the pain was simply terrifying.. Some of them fell off their horses, while some of those who had dismounted, including the knight who had stopped Wulf in the first place, fell on their knees. Rafal took a deep breath, as tears started to well up in eyes.. it was.. it was..he fell on his knees too, his sword falling on the ground next to him, and for a moment there.. he really, really thought that he was going to die too. It was unlike anything he had felt before.. not even the wound that he had received, back in that day when he had nearly died, when his father was killed.. not even it could be compared. A spear to the belly was a single would, a single center of pain..but this was as if knives were piercing every single part of his body, as if someone was twisting them in the wounds and trying to crush his skull at the same time..it was the kind of pain that would make you want to die.. just to escape from it..

But then.. he heard a scream.. and a few moments later, he recognized the voice as Alina's.. and that gave him strength.. she was hurt too.. she was in pain too, she was suffering too, she was being hurt too.. he had.. he had to protect her... he had promised her.. that's all that mattered now, and Rafal focused on that thought, closing his eyes, ignoring the tears that were just coming and coming. He remembered the same scene, again and again. Him and his father, in the courtyard of a castle. His father smiling sadly, with a wooden cane in his hand. He remembered what his father had said - that a knight had to be used to pain. That a knight had to ignore the pain in the middle of battle, if he wanted to be able to save others. Slowly, ignoring the excruciating pain, the green eyed boy started to move towards the screaming Alina..

The Grand Duke had also fallen on his knees, but while the pain might have killed a normal old man.. the Duke was certainly not just a normal human. Like Rafal, he found something to distract his attention from the pain, but in his case, it was the hymn of the Wyzkian army that he slowly whispered, Rejoice, oh Mother Wyzkia.

But then, a scream was heard in the skies above them, the same scream of a griffin, and sure enough, one of those proud animals came down, diving with precision and elegance, flying right before them and over the forest before disappearing for a few moments. Once it appeared again above the treeline - it was gently holding a horse with its claws, without hurting him. The griffin screamed again, flying above them and putting Jakob on the ground next to Wulf in a rather delicate manner for such a big beast, before a flutter of its wings sent it high into the sky again..

As he continued to cry into the dirt, he paid little mind to the sounds of the knights falling to their knees in pain, the horses neighing with discomfort, or the singing of the Duke, or even Alina as she screamed in agony. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, his own emotional pain to notice or care...though, perhaps, he should've. The only thing that even began to catch his attention was the aerial shriek that filled the air, only then bringing the boy to raise his head, revealing his tear stained face, watching with wide eyes as the griffin approached, carrying a certain horse with it...

and as it placed it upon the ground and flew once more, Wulf gasped. "Jakob!" He cried, running to the horse and throwing his arms around it, rubbing his wet face into its neck as it neighed with disdain, rubbing it's hoof into the ground. "I thought you were gone forever...I was so worried..." He whispered to the horse, relieved as he closed his eyes, resting his head against the horse...and like that, all of the pain ceased like a wave receding back to the sea. It was gone in an instant. It must've been clear then that as the brown-haired boy smiled and pet the horse, being the only one in the area that hadn't experienced pain, that he was, or had been, in fact, the reason for it. After all, there wasn't much to disprove such a theory...

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Once again, the black haired boy just remained quiet for a while.. tears were still rolling down his cheeks, but even if Julie was looking into his sad crimson eyes, even if she was also crying.. sometimes, it just looked as if he would forget that she was there for a while.. as if he wasn't looking at her, as if he was trying to see something that wasn't there. It was as if he couldn't even feel how she was gripping his hands. During those silent moments, he seemed to be empty on the inside.. perhaps drowning into despair or being pushed towards insanity by the sinful and corrupting influence of the night that was to come. The princely that he had when arriving into this place was already broken by how disheveled the beautifully decorated clothes that he was wearing were, and by the bloodstains on his ravaged sleeves and the makeshift bandages over it, but mostly.. it was just that horrible contrast between the hollowness of his eyes and the smile on his face. It just seemed.. so wrong..

Eventually, Celio hesitantly gripped her hands back, finally reacting again to her presence..and he sighed, looking really.. heartbroken, for a moment. "I see..I shouldn't have asked you that..you really shouldn't die.. you should.. you should fully enjoy the gift of life... the world isn't that cruel for you anyway. You're a beloved Archbishop of the Virtues, you're a servant of the Light, you and your kindness can truly help people.. you can help those who are still alive, unlike me..the world needs you, after all. You can live a good life.. " And then the boy shivered, clearly trying to resiste the impulse of envy that he was feeling. How couldn't he envy her? And for people like him, envy was more than just a feeling, it was a poison, running deep through his veins.. "How could I even ask that from you? You should stay in the Light. But I am stuck in the darkness, bound by unbreakable chains. I've did horrible things. I've killed people, I've hurt people, too many too count. I've messed around with magic that is forbidden the Gods, and I try to corrupt people to the Sin that I serve. I even tried to kill you, or to make you fall into envy, you know? Or at least, that's what my Lady has ordered me to do.. but I've never been able to do it.."

Celio took a deep breath, before he sighed again. He let go of Julie's hands, and he once again remained silent, with sadness clear in his red eyes..and still hesitantly, he tightly hugged the blue eyed girl in front of him. "I don't why.. I don't remember much from my previous life, just bits and pieces, pain and despair...but ever since I firstly saw you.. I always had the impression that we had met before. And even if Invidia told me to make you a slave of hers too, or just to kill you.. you always managed to make me control myself, to keep my envy at bay. It was as if you reminded me of what I should be doing, of what would be right to do.. not of what I had to do, of what I was forced to do. And.." Another moment of silence followed. "I still couldn't believe why you showed me kindness.. but you were the first one to be kind to me, even if we were enemies, even if we should have hated each other. Everyone hated me, even before I joined the cult.. the first time when I woke up, without any memories, I entered a village, looking for help.. but would help someone dressed like an Achisian necromancer, right? They hated me.. and they tried to hurt me. And then Invidia found me.. and I envied them just so much because at least, they all had their memories, they all knew who they were.. and here I was, lost. But then, I met you..and you reminded me that kindness.. isn't as bad as it seems to be... thank you.."

"But I can't keep what I am at bay forever.. I am the Archbishop of Envy, the slave of Invidia.. and that won't change.. and tonight, I have to serve my master, I have to serve my cult. I have to give the gift of life to all of these tormented souls around us.. and I have to make those who sin while claiming to be heroes pay for that.." And with that, Celio let go of her, standing up and taking a step back. "So please.. just go away. Go elsewhere, hide, or run away.. and we will meet again once this night of sin is over. If you say here, and if you try to stop me, I will have to hurt you, and I can't.. I can't resist forever.. I already just how much it hurts because I'm trying to ignore just how much I envy you... just go.. and we will meet again, one day, Julie.." And as he said that.. the brunette girl was able to once again see those magical, spectral chains bound to his cuffs and collar.. the symbols of his forced allegiance. Celio smiled once again, and for a moment.. the hollowness in his blood red eyes seemed to be replaced by bittersweet sadness.

And then, the boy turned around, picking his knife from where it had fallen on the ground. He hesitated for a second, putting the blade right over the makeshift bandages.. and then a moment and a cut later, drops of his blood started to fall on the ground again, ready for the spell, as the sun was slowly setting in front of them, heralding the night to come..

As he continued to stare hollowly, emptily, seeming like he didn't hear a word she'd said as he smiled, she frowned, her expression breaking as more tears poured onto her cheeks. "Aren't you...aren't you listening to what I'm saying..? Are you even paying attention to me..? Do you...do you even care..?!" She asked, pleaded, holding his hands tightly as she waited for some sign...and for a moment, there was nothing. But then...he gripped her hands back, much to her surprise, and she watched as he sighed, looking heartbroken. He explained that he shouldn't have asked her to die, that she should enjoy the gift of life, that the world wasn't cruel for her...but it wasn't true. No, it had never been true. He spoke that her kindness could help people, that she could help people who were still alive, unlike himself...and that the world needed her. He shivered, and as twilight approached night, she wondered if it was, in fact, due to the Blood Moon...just as she felt herself weakening. He spoke that he couldn't ask that of her, that she should stay in the light, that he was stuck...that he'd killed people, hurt people, messed with forbidden magic, trying to corrupt people; that he'd tried to kill her, to make her fall to envy, that it was what invidia wanted, but he'd never been able to.

Her heart sank. He took a deep breath, let go of her hands, and with a sad look, he pulled her into a hug. She didn't resist despite being momentarily shocked, and instead returned the hug, closing her eyes...enjoying the moment, knowing it might very well be the last. Somehow, she noticed that he still vaguely smelled of lavender. He spoke that he didn't remember much of his previous life, just pain, just despair, but he spoke that from the moment he'd firstly seen her, he'd thought that maybe they'd met before. He said that Invidia had tried to make Julie her slave, or to kill her, but that she was the first to be kind to him...even when they should've hated each other. He spoke that everyone had always hated him, even before the cult, and when he tried to get help, they hurt him. That Invidia found him, that he envied their memories...but that she had reminded him that kindness wasn't as bad as it seemed to be...and he thanked her. He explained that he couldn't keep himself at bay forever, that he was the Archbishop of envy, and that it wouldn't change. He spoke that tonight he had to serve his master, that he had to give the gift of life to those souls, that he had to make those who claimed to be heroes while they sinned pay.

He stood up, releasing her, and told her to go away, or hide, and that they would meet again after the night was over. That if she tried to stop him, he'd have to hurt her, that he couldn't resist forever how much he envied her...he wanted her to go so they could meet again one day, and it was then that the magical chains connected to his collar and cuffs revealed themselves...and he smiled, for once with a feeling of bitter-sweetness and not hollowness. He turned around, piked up the knife, cut through the bandages she'd made, and continued with his spell.

She was...speechless as she sat there, the tears still rolling down her cheeks as she sat, shocked, wordless...sad. Would nothing she said convince him..? He couldn't be hopeless...no, he couldn't be. "...you don't understand..." She said softly, her voice thick with tears. "Just because I'm a servant of the Light doesn't mean I haven't hurt people...and just because I'm beloved and kind doesn't mean I haven't experienced pain!" She cried, standing from where she'd been sitting, her lip quivering. "You forget that I've lost family too...that I've lost friends, people I cared about, I lost the life I knew, too..." She frowned. "You aren't stuck in darkness either! You think you can't be freed, that all of this is inevitable, but it isn't true! Archbishops have been converted to good before...it can be done...you just...you can't give up like that!"

"You remember me because...because you have met me before! A long time ago--well, for you it would be..." She tried to think of a way to word it without confusing him...or giving him the wrong idea. "You...helped me save a...a friend of mine...and...I didn't want you to get hurt so I--I gave you my amulet...my blue amulet...it--it's supposed to protect you, create a giant bubble as a last resort...but I--I don't know if you still have it..." She sighed softly. "I just...I want you to see that the world isn't as terrible as you've experienced it to be...we can run away...I can show you how to come to the Light, to be freed from Invidia...I--I can save you..." She cried, clenching her fists together, and then against her chest. She wanted him to believe her so badly, to listen and agree, to take her hand and follow her so she could save him...

"You're wrong...you can change...if you just let me change you...let me take you somewhere Invidia's domain is weak, let me heal you...we can find someone who can remove those chains...you can start your life over as a free man, free to choose and feel what you want..." She sobbed. How could he keep turning down the idea of being free? To be free of sin? She knew it hurt him...she knew atleast part of him didn't want this...but she...didn't think even the strongest words could convince him. "Please...let me help you...let me save you...let me--let me fix you...so that you can be happy..." She said softly, watching the back of his head with desperation. Please...let me make you happy... She paused, closing her eyes for a moment as she clenched her fists against her chest, the tears dropping from her jawline. "...just let me make you happy..."

But after a moment, she let her fists down and sighed shakily. "But I...I guess the choice isn't as easy as that for you...you must care for me, or something about me, because if you were really this monstrous figure you speak of, you wouldn't let me go...you would kill me right here, right now..." She told him softly as she opened her puffy eyes once more. "And I--I can't leave you here to wallow in this sorrow and sin...so...I'm sorry..." She told him before she gently opened her palm, generating a magic circle in the center of it, flickering with a golden glow. "...I won't let you suffer here alone, and I...I can't let you hurt anyone else...so even if it means you have to hurt me...I...I won't leave you!" She yelled, determination crossing her expression as the tears stained her cheeks. "Not this time..."

[Charlia]

The pain wouldn't stop, it wouldn't stop. She was still screaming, screaming until her throat was raw and her voice would no longer work, and even then she cried, desperately, her body feeling like it was about to be ripped apart. She couldn't even think, not until it finally, finally stopped--and even then it took her far longer than it perhaps should have for her mind to clear. But she still stayed there, curled up on the ground and trying to get her breathing under control. She could remember, still, could remember--could still feel the movement under her skin, taking far, far too long to stop. She pushed herself off the ground, and her head spun--a wave of nausea overcame her, and she retched, her small body convulsing in a manner that seemed much too violent. But she hadn't eaten in a while, and dry heaving hurt--not nearly as bad as the pain she'd just gone through, but still painful, and she could barely support herself when it was finished.

"Rafal?" she asked in a strained voice, lightheaded and confused, barely recognizing that he was moving towards her. "Rafal, I don't--I don't feel well--there's something strange, make it stop--"

Get it out of me. Whatever it is, get it out--

It felt--so hard to breathe, so hard to focus. She could hear her heart pounding, at a rate that felt far too quick--her skin was extremely pale, and her body was shaking from the effort of supporting herself. She was... tired...

"Rafal..."

[Nea Videssos]

Amarhael Valosaari,
Kozłówek, Northern Wyzkia

After stopping at a spot in the woods, not far from the old fortress of Bisztynek, and transferring various items from the griffin's saddlebags to his own rucksack, Amarhael had gone on to enter the dusty, decrepit old confines of the seemingly abandoned bastion. Around the castle were many mounds of varying sizes. Oddly enough, the plants and trees so abundant nearby seemed to deliberately grow around them, almost in an effort to avoid these areas, and the bushes and trees closer to the mounds appeared withered and twisted. Dotted here and there through out the forest, though growing in number closer to the fortress, were desicated, rotting husks of ancient oak trees. From the outside, it was clear that the edifice was once an impregnable castle, a deep moat surrounding it, the murky waters of which seemed home to dark things that swam just out of sight, eager to avoid the light of the sun. The causeway that crossed the moat was slick with moss and algae, evidently long out of use, though in no danger of collapsing any time soon. The rusted portcullis was down, but was stuck two feet from stone floor. Though this almost seemed to invite curious adventurers, few were foolish enough to even travel near Bisztynek. The courtyard beyond the gate was revealed an ancient fountain positioned in its centre. Its dark water seemed to absorb all light, even at this point in the day.

To those paying attention to the surroundings, it would soon become apparent that it was not entirely vacated. There were birds, but they were oddly quiet and unmoving, dotted around at various points along the walls, watching the surroundings keenly. Here and there upon the walls, battlements, towers, and down near the entrances could be found weathered statues of ornately carved humanoid figures; imposing warrior-like figures with six arms, and rusty iron weapons, swords, war-hammers, maces, axes and spears. These were in fact golems Amarhael had left there some time ago serving as sentries, and an advance guard for the other, predominantly undead or demonic forces residing within the castle.

Moving through the overgrown entrance, he advanced through into the outer keep, the old wooden doorway long having deteriorated. Braziers lit with magical flame, within the keep, however, were still going. Within, skeletons and dessicated corpses clad in rusty old armour or the bedraggled old robes marking them out as long-dead mages stood guard or wandered the halls, corridors and rooms of the place. Some were evidently necromancers raised from the dead, utilising their own powers in turn to maintain their cadaverous company in the fortress. Prowling in the shadows, dark spirits possessing patchwork assemblages of bodies and bits of armour dwelt nearby, shadowy energy emanating from their forms. Disembodied entities brought gusts of wind and cold that made the braziers nearby flicker and dim at times. Ignoring them, Amarhael carried on, navigating his way into a room, within which a set of stairs led into a series of underground tunnels and chambers. Veering around the corner of one corridor, he reached what was apparently a dead end. A wall, inscribed in old Luonomielän. He reached out, tracing some of the words as he uttered a spell. "Avaa veräjä minulle, jotta voin tulla tähän..."

The wall suddenly began moving, the scrape of stone against stone echoing throughout the corridor, as the apparent dead end opened up to be an entrance to a hidden area. Passing through, Amarhael entered a large hall, shelf upon shelf of ancient books seemingly untouched by age or decay. In one corner of the hall lay chests of gold, jewels, precious statues and artwork, coins minted in the name of long dead men. In another corner, assorted magical artefacts lay. Rings, bracelets, clothing, armour, weapons, shields and a variety of other things. This was far from the most impressive of Amarhael's collections, too. The best of those were in Velikiya, closer to his own homeland. Satisfied that it was undisturbed, he began coming through the collection.

"Ah... found it," he murmured triumphantly. Before him was a large metal chest, a faint pulsing field of energy around it. It had been left open, but the enchantments of the chest would deter most from actually reaching in. Within lay a somewhat jumbled pile of jewellery and other personal adornments, each object with a different enchantment. Amarhael reached in, the magical protection of the box ignoring his own form. He plucked out a pristine magical summoning amulet, followed by two bracelets and a couple of rings. These were all enchanted, of course. The first ring was a ring of fire resistance, an ornate golden ring in a a pattern resembling flames snaking around in a circle, with a clear garnet stone embedded within. Another enchanted item took the form of a double ring encircling the index and middle finger of his right hand, made of a metal that was dark as night, the surface of which seemed to swirl like a galaxy. It allowed a user to summon a phantom blade that appeared invisible to normal sight, and appeared as a shadowy longsword to those with magical sight, during combat.

The first bracelet was a ridged bracelet that fit loosely around the wearer's left wrist. It was made out of strands of hemp, leather, copper, steel, mithril, and adamantine braided together. The braid had six stones inside of it (but still visible) evenly spaced around the bracelet. There was one stone each of agate, lapis lazuli, jade, ruby, turquoise, and granite. It was a bracelet of shielding, and could create an invisible, tower shield-sized mobile disk of force that hovers in front of the wielder, negating magic missile attacks directed at them, and helping to protect against attacks in general. The other bracelet resembled a large metal centipede that wrapped around his wrist. It was of a dark yet shiny metal of unknown provenance, unlike any commonly known material. With a command word, it would come to life, a sentient metal centipede able to bite enemies with strong, sharp metal fangs that can easily cut through rope and wood. It would take longer for it to burrow through stone, and some further time still, through metal. It could also communicate telepathically, and had the option of having a potion loaded into it, with the potion effecting whatever target it bit.

Equipping himself with these items, Amarhael decided to add a few extra items to the rucksack he was wearing. One such item was an amulet resembling scorpion encased in amber with a silver clasp. If its owner killed an enemy with a touch based spell, the amulet would absorb their soul, after which the user could summon the creature's ghost to do his bidding, with the ghost being compelled to obey until it is destroyed, banished or completed the task. Added also was an unadorned silver ring of invisibility, and a further ring, a shining, ash-white ring of bone crafted to look like countless interlocking rat fangs, set with a dozen dark, garnet eyes. The last aforementioned ring allowed the summoning of swarms of rats under the bearer's control. Into the bag too, went a metal rod, carved to resemble a stack of miniature skulls, humming faintly with unholy magic, as well as a few gems and vials. Last but not least, he added a weathered old pouch full of finger bones into a side pocket. If the proper word was spoken on dumping the bones out they would form a skeletal hand that could act as a familiar during dark hours and could remotely cast any touch based spell the owner had memorised. It was an eclectic collection of items Amarhael had brought with him, but he would not dispute their usefulness in helping him deal with unexpected circumstances. He then subsequently made his way out, travelling back through the confines of the underground passages, the stairs and the keep of Bisztynek, before exiting. Leaving the old fortress behind, he walked towards Kozłówek.

It also appeared that nearby villagers had long-standing rumours and legends of dark spirits and monsters lurking in the woods surrounding the fortress. The nearest noble, the baron of Kozłówek, evidently did not care to hear the superstitious fear-mongering of the peasants, as had few of his predecessors. The occasional search through areas along the footpaths in the woods yielded no confrontations with the dark forces said to lie there, and further investigations of a more thorough nature were never pursued; usually argued to be a waste of time, money and manpower. This sentiment especially held in a period when Wyzkia was increasingly cash and manpower-strapped, as it had been in recent times. The kingdom was evidently one in decline, still struggling from the toll of the war, and lacking the extra revenue once afforded it by control of its former lands in Anselm. Of course, with greater land came a greater need to allocate garrisons and armies in a wider stretch of territory, and in turn the coffers would have been emptied towards control and maintenance of said regions, too.

---

The town of Kozłówek was decidedly more lively than the place he had just been to. As he navigated his way through the busy streets, people instinctively kept their distance from him. While most people obviously knew nothing about him, the average person's subconscious tended to pick up more than they were aware. Inevitably an undead dark sorcerer sharing his body with an otherworldly entity was bound to give off some ominous, creepy vibes, regardless of his appearance. Those within range of it would pick up the scent oddly sweet, alluring incense, an alchemical concoction that made Amarhael himself appear more lifelike to the various senses.

He took a diversion, passing through an alleyway between an old inn and a brewery, before pausing before the entrance to a bookshop that looked like it had seen the ages. Within an old, dour-looking man of Wyzkian stock sat on a rocking chair next to a collection of books, gemstones and antique items. Amarhael stepped through the door in a single motion. The old man lowered the rim of his glasses, revealing clear green eyes, and frowned, squinting at the new intruder. From Amarhael's demeanor it was clear that he was there for something other than browsing for antiques.

"Who might you be?" the shop owner inquired, his deep voice tinged with an accent that oddly resembled a mix of northern Wyzkian and a particularly distinctive dialect of Anselmian from the area of a coastal trading port by the name of Osthafen.

"I am Vodenya Iskorostensky,” he answered, traces of his old Luonomielän accent as ever present in his voice, behind the accent of western Velikiyan native nobility more recognisable to people of the fifth millennium AC. Back in Velikyia he was a Boyar, serving under a Knyaz named Sviatoslav Illarionovich Vorotynsky. His noble title was acquired through a combination of patience, treachery and corruption a long time ago, and it had become a well-established fact that he and his "ancestors" were very reclusive. While some of the assorted facades the necromancer had donned over time were plucked from little more than his imagination, others had more weight to them, and included various titles and positions Amarhael had acquired through a variety of means. “Merely a lowly Velikiyan sorceress, nothing more.” A tinge of sarcasm and amusement was present as he uttered those last words. As always, his voice was as deceiving as his physical appearance. He stepped closer to the man, and whispered a few words to him. The man's eyes narrowed, and he nodded. "Come this way, then..." he rose, gesturing the necromancer to follow. The room Amarhael entered was warm and the lighting subdued. Deep, ornately woven Wyzkian carpets covered the floor and soft green velvet drapes covered the tall, narrow windows. Ahead, the man paused, placing his right hand on a an old metal stand at the corner of the room, and uttered a spell. Lifting part of the carpet up, he revealed an entrance, a stairway leading down into a dark underground cellar. Some time later, Amarhael left, having been informed of the situation.

---

From the information gathered by his servants, Amarhael had learnt that the local Wyzkian baron, Dobiesław Kamieniecki was doing shady dealings with nearby bandits in the woods to leak information about caravans, and coordinating ambushes for them to be looted for mutual profit. After the movement of trade caravans and wealthy travellers through the region had died down, it seemed they had gotten more adventurous, and had begun looking through nearby ruins in the hope of finding treasure. None of them were aware that a third force was nearby, one that would soon make all of their schemes and concerns look trivial in comparison.

The Wyzkian baron was back in town, while the hired bandits and mercenaries were with some of his corrupt guardsmen, planning to look in the old fortress for loot. Earlier on several scouts had gone over to investigate and vanished, so even they could tell there was some danger in this pursuit. That was why they were assembling a larger, better armed force to effectively force their way past whatever enemies they thought dwelt in the area. They evidently had no idea what they were really dealing with. The baron himself cared little for the lives of his men, be they local guards or hired brigands. There was about as much trust between them as could be expected of a bunch of profit-seeking cutthroats.

Several dozen men, some mounted on horses of middling quality, others on foot, were passing along the road. A few wore lamellar and chainmail of local Wyzkian design, while the majority had more eclectic garb. Cuir bouilli and brigandine to chainmail, half-plate and lamellar armour, often incomplete or hybrid sets of armour. They had crossbows, axes, warhammers, maces, swords and spears. A couple wore robes and bore staves, marking them out as mages. The road before them, wound through the woods, hills and marshlands between Bisztynek and Kozłówek. A thick fog obscured much of the nearby environs, as it did most of the time, due to the climate in the area. Just as the fog seemed to gather, so too did clouds, blotting out what sunlight the tall trees had left visible. The trees, mostly white oak, and bald cypress in nature, near the path, occasionally disappeared at areas where the swamps neared. Nonetheless, they tended to grow more densely elsewhere, looming over the region's violet-flowered bushes, flanking the road through which the baron's men were currently travelling.

Unfortunately for them, the brigands had wondered into a trap. It gradually grew foggier, mist obscuring the nearby trees and terrain. As they wandered along the overgrown remnants of the road towards the castle, an unnatural quiet was suddenly interrupted by rumbling. A towering undead abomination lurched forward, a ghastly creation of stitched together body parts, human, lizardman and several other creatures. Without a noise, it ambled straight towards the victims of the ambush, whose quick shouts, interspersed with cursing, brought disruption to the previously quiet environs. Despite their surprise at the nature of the threat, they were evidently prepared to fight whatever they encountered, and the speed with which they readied themselves spoke for this. The more astute among them had already been warily viewing their surroundings, interpreting the ominous silence and lack of wildlife earlier as a sign of danger. In this case, intuition paid off. Several men aimed crossbows at the abomination, ready to unleash bolts at the stitched-together monster.

From behind a nearby tree, the necromancer's hooded form emerged. Purple flames flickered and swirled around the enchanted blade Amarhael bore, sorcerous energy crackling along the weapon’s edge. Ancient writing covering the weapon glowing, the light ebbing and flowing in intensity as the purple sphere set in the hilt seemed to emit a magical pulse that flowed along the entirety of the weapon. Raising his other hand, the sorcerer uttered an incantation. Green and purple sorcery spat towards the enemy, dark magic flashing towards the unprepared bandits. While this happened, emaciated figures clad in tattered, rusty armour, and melee weapons in a similar state, emerged from the trees nearby. Some were completely skeletal, others still clad in withered, long-dead flesh.

The nearest three brigands were on the receiving end of the sorcery, the destructive energy slamming into them without warning. Flesh sizzled and blackened as the magic tore through chainmail and lamellar with ease. Shouts of pain and surprise were soon cut short as the spell's effects brought the men a rapid, painful demise. As this occurred, the two mages in the group hurriedly cast defensive spells, one creating a shield of magical energy between some of the other mercenaries and Amarhael. The other began casting spells to boost the physical capabilities and awareness of the others.

The undead nearby continued their advance. Skeletal and fleshed cadavers alike emerged from the forested areas to either side of the road. As they revealed themselves, some could be seen wearing armour with the faded coat of arms visible on it; a white star on a light blue background, beneath which could be seen an arrow. It was the coat of arms of the local baronial family, house Kamieniecki, which had ruled the area for several hundred years, The looming abomination suddenly picked up its pace, ground shaking as it moved, shrugging off the salvoes of crossbow bolts launched towards it.

With an almost imperceptible gesture from Amarhael, the undead rapidly picked up their pace, raising their weapons, and crashing into the line of mercenaries along the road. A group of the brigands split off from the others, repositioning themselves in the rear so as to be able to quickly react to any attempts to cut the group's only remaining avenue of escape off. No doubt some were also thinking of making use of that escape route.

Under a hail of crossbow bolts, the occasional fireball, ice-shard or flash of lightning, the undead advanced, and Amarhael himself took the opportunity to jump directly into the fray. It had been a little while since he'd last had some exercise. Of course, he could have easily kept his distance like a more traditional necromancer, but Amarhael had always possessed a fondness for taking a more hands-on-approach, at least every now and then. Although his adversaries in this instance were hardly anything to write home about, it was better to clash blades with something than to let one's skill rot.

Enchanted blade arcing through the air, he deftly veered into the path of the nearest enemy; a dishevelled looking man wearing cuir bouilli, and equipped with an axe and a shield. A faint towards the man's crotch, before thrusting suddenly towards his throat, the speed of Amarhael's movement a blur compared to before, was enough to catch the mercenary out. A hurried attempt to bring the shield up in time was met with Amarhael slamming into the shield with remarkable force. As his enemy lost their balance, the blade penetrated the man's throat, dark energy flashing from the enchanted sword as it tore through, the sound of blood bubbling as it was heated by the purple flames of the weapon. After having barrelled into the man, Amarhael smoothly stepped out of the way to avoid the blood gushing from the brigand's throat as he collapsed. Taking a quick glance around, a faint smile on his lips belying the cold, emptiness of his dead gaze, he moved on to the others.

Several minutes later, with some undead crumpled by the side, and Amarhael's former enemies in a decidedly worse state, the battle was over. Three of the men had managed to escape before the undead at the rear had cut them off entirely, but neither Amarhael, nor his servants nearby, cared that a few stragglers had escaped. The necromancer gave the remaining undead another, silent command. They sheathed whatever weaponry they had on them, and began picking up the bodies of the dead mercenaries. Following Amarhael, they brought the corpses back to Bisztynek.

---

Back at the baron's manor-house east of Kozłówek, the peace and calm usually present there was abruptly altered by the arrival of an intruder. In the building's solar, a most unexpected situation has arisen for the lord of the land.

"W-What do you want? Money? My life? Something else? Please... spare me..."

An elegantly dressed man in his mid-thirties, with a slim build, angular features, blond hair and green eyes, trembled. Dobiesław Kamieniecki, the confident, manipulative baron of Kozłówek, had, it seemed, finally found himself out of his depth. His gaze was pinned to the pale, hooded form of Amarhael, flanked by three armoured men that had merely several minutes before, been guards belonging to the baron. If one looked closely, the men bore the signs of injuries, few in number but in areas that were clearly fatal. Judging by the injuries themselves, it seemed as if bolts of energy had parted flesh from bone, blackening the skin nearby and charring the bone. Indeed, these men had been rendered a quick death, only to be raised from their brief slumber to serve the androgynous mage that stood next to them.

"What do you take me for, some manner of monster?" the necromancer quipped sarcastically. He stepped closer, swiftly placing a gloved hand on Kamieniecki's head, and chanting. From the shadows nearby, a figure stirred. An indistinct, foggy, vaguely humanoid entity shot towards Kamieniecki. It condensed, a cold energy filling the room as its form grew clearer, and promptly reached the baron. He screamed as the entity's shadowy form merged with his own, struggling in an effort to resist this spiritual invasion. Within seconds, however, his body slumped and collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. It would take a little time for the wraith to fully get things in order, as it were, and to acclimatise itself with its new body. Stepping away, Amarhael murmured, "I only want to ensure I have a few ...friends... that can help me take advantage of the oncoming storm..."

The commotion had evidently been heard, and the door nearby suddenly burst open.

"What in the sixteen hells do you think you're doing?!? Guards!" exclaimed a short, balding man in a Wyzkian noble's attire, beady dark brown eyes glaring at the intruder, veins seemingly about to burst as he shook in rage. The hooded figure of Amarhael was the obvious suspect in the dimly lit room, next to the unconscious form of the baron. The necromancer's empty gaze turned to the angry man. The castellan of the barony, judging by the symbol present on the brooch of his cloak. The man's face paled as he took in the the scene before him. A single word, and an almost imperceptible gesture from Amarhael, and the man's vision grew dim. Struggling against the sudden lethargy, he leaned unsteadily against the door, before crumpling to the ground. A simple spell to affect the senses, and it seemed that was all that was needed.

Sighing faintly in response to the various interruptions he had recently faced, Amarhael left the way he had entered, his particular task here achieved. It could be said Amarhael liked to do things he could have delegated to others, by himself. He certainly did plenty of delegation, too, but sitting around moving a chess board around whilst subordinates scurried around could get boring. For the most part, the cult he presided over, for instance, was autonomous. Sometimes he laid out certain plans or delivered particular orders at key points, but at other times he simply left them do do as they pleased, or sought out things to be dealt with personally. Sometimes he travelled the land, be it out of boredom, for a particular goal, or for whatever other reason he could conjure up. Other times he secreted himself away at one of his old abodes, experimenting, practicing magic, pouring through old texts and working with spirits, undead and demons. From time to time, he ensured that Amarhael's own needs, and that of the Dweller, were met. He fed on the bodies, souls and mana of others.

This was but one project of his, which could prove useful if built upon in time, though it was not vital that this power-base survive. Indeed, his fortunes had ebbed and flowed throughout the centuries, and he had come to see anything short of his own demise as a lesson or a temporary setback. It wasn't exactly like he had an urgent time frame within which to achieve any of his goals. He could spend centuries pouring through magical texts and scrolls, experimenting and refining his sorcery. Or he could be out, or order his servants or cultists out, gathering information, knowledge, artifacts and the valuable corpses. Sometimes he employed mercenaries, morally ambiguous adventurers, or criminals to acquire items, corpses, ingredients for necromantic rituals or other things of use to him. He could take a city or fortress by a direct assault, or he could gradually weaken and destroy it from within. Whatever the case, he had always been careful enough to hide his true face, and to avoid anything so foolish as to openly proclaim an undead realm to be pitted against all the realms and forces that would consider such a thing reprehensible.

Amarhael would of course, take the opportunity to build up his power and forces, and undermine enemies when opportunities arose. With the way things were going these days, he had no need to manipulate countries into war with one another, in order to profit from the surplus of dead bodies left in their wake. It seems they had either cut his work out for him, or the Cult of Sins were up to their old antics. He tended to keep his operations in that regard smaller, organising raids, sometimes utilising bandits or warbands to slaughter villages, and then killing them for more corpses when they've outlived their usefulness. He also has a habit of unleashing wraiths, zombies, ghouls and several other types of undead on villages and travelling groups of people, since they turn their victims into fellow undead. Self-propagating undead can be efficient in that manner. If he saw a chance, he would show up at corpse-strewn battlefields and cast mass raise spells, while picking out the bodies of key dead warriors and mages to be raised as more powerful types of undead. He had slain many people over the centuries, and inevitably acquired many enemies. Some of those slain tried to pursue him in death as vengeful ghosts, but he simply consumed or enslaved their souls in return.

He also had on him a list of artefacts he was searching for, including an enchanted crown that could draw out magical potential in a person, a powerful magical suppression device known as Johralis' Silencer, rumoured to be an ancient Thyrian artefact. It was said to be able to indefinitely contain all magic in an area as large as a city. The user's magic - if they possessed some - was amplified by the item as it went through the process of dampening others magic. Then there was the Book of the Blight, an ancient book of shadow magic, necromancy and magical plagues. Another was the Keeper of Grimoires, an enchanted and encrypted book that itself had the location of many books of ancient sorcery hidden away during particularly cataclysmic war centuries ago. There was also the mysterious Ring of Winter, a golden featureless band that was constantly covered in a layer of frost that never melted. This Ring of Winter granted immunity to cold, blocked divination, allowed the user to lower the temperature within a radius, as low as −34 °C, and granted the user various ice magic spells, as well as creating animate objects and animated creatures made of ice. It was also rumoured to have greater powers. He was also contemplating searching for a Greater Ring of Universal Energy Resistance, which was a rare type of enchanted ring, and quite costly to purchase. These were just a few on the list, and while he didn't expect to find most of them any time soon, it was always useful to keep such things in mind when travelling. Sometimes it took centuries to find valuable magical items, and sometimes he found their purported location only to learn it had been destroyed, taken elsewhere or ended up somewhere inaccessible or so well-guarded as to be unreachable without utilising more effort and resources to acquire it than the item was worth. If so, he would move on, and simply see what else he could find instead, and how best the situation can be taken advantage of. Sometimes these things reaped unexpected rewards.

One method of ferrying forces of undead around without too much trouble involved deception. Some of his walking corpses would be embalmed, wrapped in bandages, clad in hooded robes and given herbs or incense to mask their smell, and ordered to walk with their arms crossed in front of them, hands up their sleeves. Sometimes undead mages skilled in illusion magic used their powers to help mask the procession - especially if more unusual undead were among them. If anyone inquired, they were passed off as members of a monastic group known as the Order of Divine Contemplation, sworn to silence, interacting minimally with the material world in order to strengthen their connection with the gods. If one researched them, one would find that such an order was formed some centuries ago, but the exact details around their formation, and the specifics of their order are shrouded in secrecy and prone to contradictory rumours. Their "monasteries" were always far from other religious institutions or large population centres, with perhaps a few exceptions, and were more common in western and northern parts of the continent. Any mortals known to be associated with the order were a bit mentally unbalanced and seemingly paranoid of outsiders, some hiding themselves away, or the more charismatic ones doing their best to present a false image of the "order" to others. This monastic order, is apparently part of a obscure church that focuses on the cyclical process of life, death and rebirth. Members of the mainstream church that investigate are usually either paid off or "disappeared" and this mysterious group seems to avoid making enough of a fuss to make the senior members of the church care. In short, they were an obscure group few people had heard of, and no one really bothered investigating (with the few that did either reaching dead-ends or vanishing). Recently, Amarhael had been moving a number of these "monks" around in western Wyzkia from one place to another. It was a sign of his preparations for events to come.

Having returned to the fortress, he took a horse, and prepared himself for another journey. It was time to see if some of his long-running experiments would pan out as he desired. One involved spreading a plague that caused those who died from it to rise as undead. The consciousnesses of those slain by the plague would essentially trapped be in their own rotting bodies, and the life-force they once possessed was used by the plague to transform them into more powerful undead. People with greater willpower, or magical ability, would accordingly be more likely to become aware and in control of their actions as intelligent undead. The plague could be spread through a variety of mediums, including transmission through water and air. Obviously some circumstances would weaken the plague's spread, but conventional medicines had limited effect at staunching the magical contagion's spread. It was remarkably virulent, and within several days it led to the rapid, agonising death of its victims as they became walking corpses. Holy magic would certainly be a tool to turn to to fight the plague, but it too had its limits. If a victim was too far gone, the best one could hope for was a quick death.

---

Świątniki Górne, Northwest Wyzkia,
Several days before the Night of the Bloody Moons

It was it was here that the plague would first begin spreading. The method of choice was through the city's water supply. To be precise, it would be through contamination of one of the main cisterns that provided a fair chunk of the city's water supply. It would be difficult to contain the disease and quarantine it if spread from a trade hub like Świątniki Górne. An instant response was unlikely, and the situation chosen made things worse for would-be responders. Especially when the Night of the Bloody Moons took effect.

Świątniki Górne was an imposing city, built along the eastern flank of the river Wisłoka. The river, if followed north, eventually reached Anselmian territory along the coast, with several tributaries going out into the sea, and the river itself was big and deep enough for sea-fairing vessels. The shores were crowded with piers, various boats and ships tethered to the docks on either side of the river. One of the most noteworthy sights was an old Thyrian bridge to the south, which had helped bring prosperity to Świątniki Górne on account of its geographic proximity to a crossing point on the Wisłoka. The bridge in question was a remarkably intact example of Thyrian engineering and magical ingenuity. It was made out of an unidentified silvery-white metal, and two towers on either end had raised stone inscriptions within that allowed anyone with a modicum of magical talent to operate the bridge's ability to raise and lower itself when necessary. In this manner, bigger vessels, such as some more suited for the high seas, were able to pass by. According to legend, and fragmentary archaeological evidence, the Thyrians had once built a town nearby, and it had served as a local centre for industry and commerce, including the production of pottery, glass, iron and bronze work, and a melting pot mixing the the traditions and culture of the local tribes with that of the Thyrian colony. A largely civilian settlement, it was nonetheless thought to have supplied Thyrian military forces elsewhere.

On the opposite side of the river, the signs of the city's prosperity had evidently spilt over into the adjacent village. The village was effectively an extension of the city, and no doubt at some point it would be legally incorporated into the settlement at some point in the future. In recent years, the city's officials had been discussing such a move with village's council, placing an emphasis on the prosperity that would be brought to the villagers by such a move, in an effort to overshadow concerns the villagers possessed about losing the village's identity, and being bled dry by corrupt officials and unscrupulous merchants.

Within the walls of the city, along an unobtrusive passageway, was the entrance to one of the city's cisterns. Usually used to check on the water supply, a guard outside stood by for obvious reasons. Nearby, the shadows rippled and eddied for a brief instant, before settling down. The guard blinked, rubbing his eyes, and promptly muttering something about staying up too late. Within the dark, unlit confines of the tunnel leading to the cistern, a short, hooded figure emerged from the shadows.

The hooded figure took out a large, tightly sealed vial, previously concealed within their voluminous robes. The vial appeared to be made of some sort of thick glass, though the glass was transparent enough to see the contents within. A dark liquid, with a strange, grainy-grey light flickering within it, from time to time. Pulling the vial's stopper with gloved hands, the bearer of the vial delicately, slowly tipped the vial's contents into the watery depths of the cistern. Having emptied the vial, task accomplished, the cultist promptly threw the vial itself into the water, before turning around and vanishing.

---

The Red Dog Tavern. This innocuous seeming establishment would soon be party to a horror its proprietor never would have imagined.

The Red Dog Tavern was a dark grogshop that faintly resembled the forecastle of a ship. It had a low, beamed ceiling of dark wood and portholes instead of windows. The proprietor was a bluff, red-faced man with tattoos on both arms and an exaggerated touch of salt water in his speech. He was evidently a former sailor of some description that still felt ill-at-ease without maritime affectations around him.

A man clad in a tarred sea coat nearby stumbled. He was clearly unwell, sweating profusely and coughing. Clearing his throat repeatedly, he wandered off. "You okay?" The proprietor shouted out through the door, before grumbling to himself in worry. "Hope I didn't catch whatever he had..."

Three days later, a pair of wayfarers found the body of a bearded teamster lying in a ditch beside his wagon on the road to the nearby town of Jaworzno. His body was arched stiffly backward, and his face was locked in a grotesque semblance of a grin. The wayfarers concluded that he had no further need of his team and wagon, and so they stole it. As an afterthought, they also stole his clothes and covered the body with dead leaves. Then they turned the wagon around and rode on back to Świątniki Górne.

The tattooed proprietor of the Red Dog Tavern was found dead in his establishment the following morning.

The next day, three dozen more succumbed. The authorities began to take note of the matter.

But by then it was too late. The curious intermingling of classes characteristic of a major city made the confining of the infection to any one district impossible. Servants who lived in that shabby part of town carried the disease into the houses of the rich and powerful. Workmen carried it to construction sites, and their fellow workmen carried it home to other parts of the city. Customers gave it to merchants, who in turn gave it to other customers. The most casual contact was usually sufficient to cause infection.

Events would take a turn for the worse that evening. Almost as if on cue, the corpses as one, began to move again. Whether left at the side of a road, or given a proper burial, they rose in newfound unlife, the base desire to spread their contagion to others, via force, compelling them to zealously and indiscriminately attack the living. Child against mother, worker against boss, peasant against noble, all social etiquette, considerations of familial, social and personal ties were rendered null and void. As the numbers of the dead, and soon, undead, rapidly began to grow, panic began to spread.

It had begun. When the Night of the Bloody Moon arrived, it would only get worse.

[Tracian Empire]

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

As the pain slowly dissipated, most of the knights slowly started to stand back up, some of them taking deep breaths, trying to calm themselves down. This had been a horrible experience, and it had managed to terrify even old and experienced soldiers like them..if it would have lasted any longer, it would have probably traumatized some of them permanently. How can you even resist in front of a pain that takes over your entire body, that makes your every living second into a nightmare? But that's where their training kicked in. And after the pain stopped, it didn't take much time for them to realize who was the most likely cause of this horrifying suffering - from the knight who had stopped Wulf to the Grand Duke, they all looked directly at the boy, who seemed to be oblivious to what had happened around him, resting his head on the horse that had just been saved. And the knight standing right behind him quickly and quietly unsheathed his sword, ready to strike ... but the old man quickly noticed that.

"Knights of the realm, to my command!", the Grand Duke ordered, and hearing that, all of the knights fell down on one knee immediately, in a gesture of obedience and respect, while the knight behind Wulf placed his sword on the ground. Now looking directly at Wulf, the Duke took a few steps forward, with a calm smile on his face. As always, this man's persona was quite something. While he was perfectly able to inspire loyalty and obedience in his man, his very presence now simply seemed to emanate patience and tranquility, as if Wulf would have nothing to fear.

"Do you know what just happened, little boy?", the old man asked in a gentle voice. "You seem to have quite a power there.."

Meanwhile, breathing rapidly and shallowly, Rafal desperately tried to calm himself down. Normally, he would have just remained there where he was, lying on the ground, trying to ignore the pain, to stop all those painful memories.. but then he heard her voice, calling for him, asking for his help...he knew that.. he had to help her.. he had to help her, no matter what. He tried to stand up, but he felt dizzy and he fell on his knees again. He desperately tried not to puke, remembering how the spear's blade pierced his belly back then, in that day of blood.. the stench of the dead and the undead, the screams, the war horns, the shouts..the waves of arrows covering the light of the sun..

No.. he had no time for any of this.. standing up again, he even ignored when the Grand Duke, his monarch, his liege, ordered his knights to answer to his command.. and instead of that, the green eyed boy fell on his knees right next to Alina, just as she called his name again. She was shaking, she was so pale, she was breathing heavily.. the pain that she must have felt, the suffering... it made him feel horrible. Why did she have to be here? Why did she have to feel all that pain? Why couldn't he protect her again? As all these thoughts were racing through his mind, the boy took her hands into his, feeling as some tears had started to roll down his cheeks.

If he wouldn't have been so concerned about her...perhaps Rafal would have been the first one to unsheathe his blade.. but even if he would have, he wouldn't have been able to blame Wulf for that.

Instead of any of that, the boy just took another deep breath. "It's alright.. Alina.. I'm here.. I'm here.. the pain is gone.. it's gone.. no more.. and I'm here.. I'll help you..", he tried to say, his voice shaking..but what could he even do? Closing eyes for a few moments, he started to whisper something, a simple chant. A spell used for those who were wounded in the middle of battle, not to mend their wounds - but to calm them down, to ease their memories of pain.. so many were turned insane by the pain and trauma of battle, and he had seen it so many times.. after all, this invisible pain wasn't so different. Again and again, Rafal chanted the same spell, as he held her hands..

---

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Celio simply chuckled, not turning around from where he was, continuing to look in the pool of blood on the ground in front of him. "You've lost friends, family, people you cared about, and the life you knew because of me too, didn't you? I don't remember much.. but I know that was a necromancer of Achisia. A servant of the Eternal Flame and Serpent. I probably hurt and killed more people than I could remember..and maybe that's for the best.. that I don't remember what I did back then.." And the dark haired boy took a deep breath. "You've seen it, haven't you? I even killed your father. How many families had to suffer in grief because of me? How much blood stained the blade of my scythe? Just because I no longer remember all of my crimes it doesn't mean that they do not exist.. or that I shouldn't be punished for them." And then, the boy cut his arm again. "I can't come back into the light after all of that..and I can't be converted to good. Invidia owns my soul, and my life. I can't escape from her.. I would die, and my soul would never find its peace and.. I'm afraid of death..even if it's so beautiful.."

And then Celio sighed, barely feeling the cold blade of the dagger anymore as he cut his arm yet again... but then he stopped. "So.. it was yours..", he said, hesitantly, as he took that amulet out from a hidden pocket, with his bloody hand. "I found it.. back when I firstly woke up, without any memories.. but I had no idea how to use it. I kept it, hoping that maybe it had something to do with the life that I had lost...but oh well.." After another moment of hesitation, the boy simply let the amulet from his hand, letting it fall down on the blood soaked ground beneath. "You don't understand, do you? I need Invidia to survive.. if you take me away from her powers, I will just die. You can't heal this scar, no one can, it's a life ending wound...and no one can remove those chains either.. trust me.. I tried, again and again, until my wrists were all bloody and pained. I can never be free.. I can never be happy.. I can't be saved, I can't be fixed. I can't be helped..but..." And even if Julie was unable to see it, Celio smiled sadly. "Thank you.. for trying all of this. For trying to save to save and to help someone like me.. you are too kind. You're the one who deserves to be happy, not me..and that's why I can't kill you.. for now.. but the Night is calling.."

Celio closed his eyes, as he knelt down on the ground in front of him, returning to drawing strange forms in the bloody ground there. He didn't seem to notice or to care about Julie's spell..and the blue eyed girl wound soon realize why. If she would have looked more careful to the ground next to the black haired boy, she would have noticed that something was missing.. a black and crimson scythe...and that's when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder.. and before she was able to properly react, a certain black haired and red haired girl walked around her, stopping right between her and Celio.

"You will leave him... there is no other way.", Krypta told her, in a voice filled with hate, as she punched Julie right in the belly with more force than a normal human girl would have been able to hit, throwing her a few meters away. "You're disgusting.. how can you be so cruel? Trying to fool him again with your fantasies and dreams, just when he was finally starting to accept his own fate.. isn't what you did to him in the past enough? Isn't it? Or do you really enjoy seeing him suffer?"

[Charlia]

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

As the pain slowly dissipated, most of the knights slowly started to stand back up, some of them taking deep breaths, trying to calm themselves down. This had been a horrible experience, and it had managed to terrify even old and experienced soldiers like them..if it would have lasted any longer, it would have probably traumatized some of them permanently. How can you even resist in front of a pain that takes over your entire body, that makes your every living second into a nightmare? But that's where their training kicked in. And after the pain stopped, it didn't take much time for them to realize who was the most likely cause of this horrifying suffering - from the knight who had stopped Wulf to the Grand Duke, they all looked directly at the boy, who seemed to be oblivious to what had happened around him, resting his head on the horse that had just been saved. And the knight standing right behind him quickly and quietly unsheathed his sword, ready to strike ... but the old man quickly noticed that.

"Knights of the realm, to my command!", the Grand Duke ordered, and hearing that, all of the knights fell down on one knee immediately, in a gesture of obedience and respect, while the knight behind Wulf placed his sword on the ground. Now looking directly at Wulf, the Duke took a few steps forward, with a calm smile on his face. As always, this man's persona was quite something. While he was perfectly able to inspire loyalty and obedience in his man, his very presence now simply seemed to emanate patience and tranquility, as if Wulf would have nothing to fear.

"Do you know what just happened, little boy?", the old man asked in a gentle voice. "You seem to have quite a power there.."

Meanwhile, breathing rapidly and shallowly, Rafal desperately tried to calm himself down. Normally, he would have just remained there where he was, lying on the ground, trying to ignore the pain, to stop all those painful memories.. but then he heard her voice, calling for him, asking for his help...he knew that.. he had to help her.. he had to help her, no matter what. He tried to stand up, but he felt dizzy and he fell on his knees again. He desperately tried not to puke, remembering how the spear's blade pierced his belly back then, in that day of blood.. the stench of the dead and the undead, the screams, the war horns, the shouts..the waves of arrows covering the light of the sun..

No.. he had no time for any of this.. standing up again, he even ignored when the Grand Duke, his monarch, his liege, ordered his knights to answer to his command.. and instead of that, the green eyed boy fell on his knees right next to Alina, just as she called his name again. She was shaking, she was so pale, she was breathing heavily.. the pain that she must have felt, the suffering... it made him feel horrible. Why did she have to be here? Why did she have to feel all that pain? Why couldn't he protect her again? As all these thoughts were racing through his mind, the boy took her hands into his, feeling as some tears had started to roll down his cheeks.

If he wouldn't have been so concerned about her...perhaps Rafal would have been the first one to unsheathe his blade.. but even if he would have, he wouldn't have been able to blame Wulf for that.

Instead of any of that, the boy just took another deep breath. "It's alright.. Alina.. I'm here.. I'm here.. the pain is gone.. it's gone.. no more.. and I'm here.. I'll help you..", he tried to say, his voice shaking..but what could he even do? Closing eyes for a few moments, he started to whisper something, a simple chant. A spell used for those who were wounded in the middle of battle, not to mend their wounds - but to calm them down, to ease their memories of pain.. so many were turned insane by the pain and trauma of battle, and he had seen it so many times.. after all, this invisible pain wasn't so different. Again and again, Rafal chanted the same spell, as he held her hands..

Though her vision was somewhat fuzzy, and her mind clouded, she could see that he was crying. That was right. He'd been in pain too, but she hadn't thought about that at all, had she? Only herself. Selfish. But he was there, he was talking to her, taking her hands in his own. His grip was firm without being tight or painful, the rougher touch of someone who had been in battle against the fragile softness of her own skin. She felt--safe, like on the night before when he'd held her after the awful nightmare, chasing away the phantom sensations with his own touch. She'd felt warm and safe and even cared for in those moments, with him just holding her and allowing her to cry until she finally fell back asleep, letting her express the pain she was in without judging her, touching her in a way that was gentle and kind and with no intention of harming her, a way she hadn't been touched in so, so long.

He was whispering something, she realized, over and over again, and as he did the remnants of the pain continued to ease, the fear and confusion receding from her mind, that terrifying, inexplicable sensation of movement ceasing at last, and she collapsed against him with relief, crying, "thank you, thank you," over and over again, though her voice was strained and tired. She was safe with him, she knew that. He wouldn't hurt her. She could trust him.

"I felt... I felt something moving," she stammered, her voice faltering. "Inside me, there was something... it felt awful... I don't know what's happening to me... What's happening to me, Rafal? I don't understand..."

[Castle Crashers]

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

As the pain slowly dissipated, most of the knights slowly started to stand back up, some of them taking deep breaths, trying to calm themselves down. This had been a horrible experience, and it had managed to terrify even old and experienced soldiers like them..if it would have lasted any longer, it would have probably traumatized some of them permanently. How can you even resist in front of a pain that takes over your entire body, that makes your every living second into a nightmare? But that's where their training kicked in. And after the pain stopped, it didn't take much time for them to realize who was the most likely cause of this horrifying suffering - from the knight who had stopped Wulf to the Grand Duke, they all looked directly at the boy, who seemed to be oblivious to what had happened around him, resting his head on the horse that had just been saved. And the knight standing right behind him quickly and quietly unsheathed his sword, ready to strike ... but the old man quickly noticed that.

"Knights of the realm, to my command!", the Grand Duke ordered, and hearing that, all of the knights fell down on one knee immediately, in a gesture of obedience and respect, while the knight behind Wulf placed his sword on the ground. Now looking directly at Wulf, the Duke took a few steps forward, with a calm smile on his face. As always, this man's persona was quite something. While he was perfectly able to inspire loyalty and obedience in his man, his very presence now simply seemed to emanate patience and tranquility, as if Wulf would have nothing to fear.

"Do you know what just happened, little boy?", the old man asked in a gentle voice. "You seem to have quite a power there.."

Meanwhile, breathing rapidly and shallowly, Rafal desperately tried to calm himself down. Normally, he would have just remained there where he was, lying on the ground, trying to ignore the pain, to stop all those painful memories.. but then he heard her voice, calling for him, asking for his help...he knew that.. he had to help her.. he had to help her, no matter what. He tried to stand up, but he felt dizzy and he fell on his knees again. He desperately tried not to puke, remembering how the spear's blade pierced his belly back then, in that day of blood.. the stench of the dead and the undead, the screams, the war horns, the shouts..the waves of arrows covering the light of the sun..

No.. he had no time for any of this.. standing up again, he even ignored when the Grand Duke, his monarch, his liege, ordered his knights to answer to his command.. and instead of that, the green eyed boy fell on his knees right next to Alina, just as she called his name again. She was shaking, she was so pale, she was breathing heavily.. the pain that she must have felt, the suffering... it made him feel horrible. Why did she have to be here? Why did she have to feel all that pain? Why couldn't he protect her again? As all these thoughts were racing through his mind, the boy took her hands into his, feeling as some tears had started to roll down his cheeks.

If he wouldn't have been so concerned about her...perhaps Rafal would have been the first one to unsheathe his blade.. but even if he would have, he wouldn't have been able to blame Wulf for that.

Instead of any of that, the boy just took another deep breath. "It's alright.. Alina.. I'm here.. I'm here.. the pain is gone.. it's gone.. no more.. and I'm here.. I'll help you..", he tried to say, his voice shaking..but what could he even do? Closing eyes for a few moments, he started to whisper something, a simple chant. A spell used for those who were wounded in the middle of battle, not to mend their wounds - but to calm them down, to ease their memories of pain.. so many were turned insane by the pain and trauma of battle, and he had seen it so many times.. after all, this invisible pain wasn't so different. Again and again, Rafal chanted the same spell, as he held her hands..

As Wulf buried his face into his horse's neck, he was entirely oblivious to the knight behind him as he drew his sword, probably close to cutting the boy open as he stood, Jakob, of course, noticing and tapping his hoof in displeasure. What eventually drew Wulf's attention was when the Grand Duke called for all to kneel, finally drawing Wulf to turn around, watching as the Duke stepped towards him with a smile...he seemed peaceful and accepting, so Wulf willingly stayed put as he approached, watching the old man with curiosity. He wondered if he himself should bow before the kingly man spoke, asking if he'd known what happened, that he had quite a power... Power..? He shouldn't know I have a power...

He was about to ask what he'd meant before he noticed how weak and shocked some of the knights looked from where they knelt, and his eyes took him to Rafal and Alina...who clung to each other, worn, terrified. The realization struck him like a knife to the heart. Fear washed over his expression; not of the others, but of himself. He looked to his hands with shock, fear, hurt...how could he let himself do this again..? "Oh..." He whispered before his brow furrowed and he took a step back, his back rubbing against Jakob as he did. "I...I didn't mean to, I..." He spoke, and before he realized it, fat tears were spilling down his cheeks once more. His lip quivered as he stared at his hands, that of which started to shake.

"I...I'm so sorry..." He said quietly as his tears stained his round cheeks once more. "I don't have control of it, I--I didn't mean to, I--I didn't want to hurt anyone..." He said, taking another step back, forcing the horse to take a step back also. "...I just wanted to help, and I--I couldn't even do that...I...I'm...sorry..." He hiccuped as he cried, rubbing some of his tears away with the sleeve of his oversized jacket. This time, there was no pain. He was...sorrowful. Regretful. Fearful of himself. This time...he was aware of what was happening. "I'm so sorry..."

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Celio simply chuckled, not turning around from where he was, continuing to look in the pool of blood on the ground in front of him. "You've lost friends, family, people you cared about, and the life you knew because of me too, didn't you? I don't remember much.. but I know that was a necromancer of Achisia. A servant of the Eternal Flame and Serpent. I probably hurt and killed more people than I could remember..and maybe that's for the best.. that I don't remember what I did back then.." And the dark haired boy took a deep breath. "You've seen it, haven't you? I even killed your father. How many families had to suffer in grief because of me? How much blood stained the blade of my scythe? Just because I no longer remember all of my crimes it doesn't mean that they do not exist.. or that I shouldn't be punished for them." And then, the boy cut his arm again. "I can't come back into the light after all of that..and I can't be converted to good. Invidia owns my soul, and my life. I can't escape from her.. I would die, and my soul would never find its peace and.. I'm afraid of death..even if it's so beautiful.."

And then Celio sighed, barely feeling the cold blade of the dagger anymore as he cut his arm yet again... but then he stopped. "So.. it was yours..", he said, hesitantly, as he took that amulet out from a hidden pocket, with his bloody hand. "I found it.. back when I firstly woke up, without any memories.. but I had no idea how to use it. I kept it, hoping that maybe it had something to do with the life that I had lost...but oh well.." After another moment of hesitation, the boy simply let the amulet from his hand, letting it fall down on the blood soaked ground beneath. "You don't understand, do you? I need Invidia to survive.. if you take me away from her powers, I will just die. You can't heal this scar, no one can, it's a life ending wound...and no one can remove those chains either.. trust me.. I tried, again and again, until my wrists were all bloody and pained. I can never be free.. I can never be happy.. I can't be saved, I can't be fixed. I can't be helped..but..." And even if Julie was unable to see it, Celio smiled sadly. "Thank you.. for trying all of this. For trying to save to save and to help someone like me.. you are too kind. You're the one who deserves to be happy, not me..and that's why I can't kill you.. for now.. but the Night is calling.."

Celio closed his eyes, as he knelt down on the ground in front of him, returning to drawing strange forms in the bloody ground there. He didn't seem to notice or to care about Julie's spell..and the blue eyed girl wound soon realize why. If she would have looked more careful to the ground next to the black haired boy, she would have noticed that something was missing.. a black and crimson scythe...and that's when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder.. and before she was able to properly react, a certain black haired and red haired girl walked around her, stopping right between her and Celio.

"You will leave him... there is no other way.", Krypta told her, in a voice filled with hate, as she punched Julie right in the belly with more force than a normal human girl would have been able to hit, throwing her a few meters away. "You're disgusting.. how can you be so cruel? Trying to fool him again with your fantasies and dreams, just when he was finally starting to accept his own fate.. isn't what you did to him in the past enough? Isn't it? Or do you really enjoy seeing him suffer?"

As Celio continued to sit, staring into the blood before him, he chuckled and spoke that she'd lost friends and family, and the life she'd known because of him, that he remembered being a necromancer of Achisia, that it was probably for the best he didn't remember anything from back then. He spoke that she'd seen it when he killed her father, and he wondered how many families he'd caused the same grief to. He spoke that simply because he couldn't remember his crimes didn't mean they didn't exist or that he shouldn't be punished for them as he cut his arm open once more. He spoke that he simply couldn't come back to the light, couldn't be converted to good, that he couldn't escape from Invidia...that he would die, never be at peace, and even though he feared death, he also found it beautiful.

He cut his arm again, and as he spoke, momentarily stopping his cutting, he revealed the amulet, that of which still glittered in the red light. Her heart jumped at the sight, surprised he'd even considered keeping it with him for the years he'd grown in her absence, after she'd handed it to younger Celio. He said he'd found it when he'd woken up, that he had no idea how to use it, but that he'd kept it in hopes that it was connected to the life he'd lost...and with a simple sigh, he let it slip out of his hand and into the bloody, scarred dirt like it was nothing. It...hurt her heart. It...angered her. How could he only now care so little for it? He had carried it for so long...and he was just now going to drop it into the dirt? He continued on, saying that he needed Invidia to survive due to the scar around his neck, that no one could remove his chains as even he had tried. He said...he could never be free, be happy, that he couldn't be fixed, or helped. And he paused...and she could almost...hear his sad smile. Feel it, even. It was hard not to notice an honest emotion from him. He thanked her for trying to save him, to help him, that she was too kind...that she deserved to be happy, not him...and then that the Night was calling.

She was...hurt. Frustrated. She paused for a moment, anger settling across her face...but it was because she wanted to help him so badly, and he kept shutting her down. She wasn't angry at him, really...no; she was angry at all the people, the Gods, and the circumstances he'd been thrown into to make him feel this way. Why had the world decided to punish him this way? Why would they make him suffer like this? Her anger and frustration and sorrow caused her magic circle to flicker, a sign she was becoming unfocused as more tears threatened to escape her eyes. "No, I don't think you understand!" She cried, watching as he continued to draw signs into the ground, as if he was...ignoring her. It only stung more. "There's always a way, and if there isn't one, I'll--I'll make one! I'm not going to give up on you like everyone else did! I don't care what it takes, I don't care what it costs, I don't care if I have to go to Invidia myself and bid with her to save you! I'll do what it takes to save you, I vow you this!" She declared, struggling to keep her tears from escaping. "Because...if I let you die like this, live like this, suffer like this, we'll both regret it! It's my job to help you...and now I realize it's a lot more than just what Benevolentia would want. It's what I want! And I know...you would be more regretful to die knowing you've committed so much hate and sin than you would to live making up for it by making the world a better place..."

She frowned, her tears blurring her vision. "I promise you, when no one else stands for you, I will. You may think it's impossible, but I haven't given up yet! I don't care how long it takes, I will free you from Invidia, and you'll live to see it! I promise you this..." And as she stopped, rearing her magical circle once more, she felt a hand on her shoulder...and watched as the same black-haired, red-eyed girl from before walked around, blocking her vision of Celio. Krypta...the scythe... She reveled, almost surprised to see the immortal relic again. She spoke that she would leave him, that there was no other way in a voice of hatred, and before Julie could say anything, the girl forced her fist into her stomach, blowing her a distance away as the breath was knocked out of her. She rolled against the dirt and coughed, wheezing from such a powerful blow. Krypta spoke of her being disgusting, cruel even for trying to fool him with her fantasies and dreams after he'd just accepted his fate, speaking that what she'd done to him in the past was enough...asking if she enjoyed seeing him suffer.

Did to him...in the past..? She wondered as she struggled to regain her breath. What happened..? She guessed...now might not be the best time to ask a pissed-off relic. "...I'm...not trying to fool him..." She spoke with another cough, forcing herself onto her knees and then her feet, unsteadily. "I'm--I'm trying to save him from a horrible, horrible fate...I want...I want him to be happy...is that really so much to wish for..?" She asked, her voice growing more angry as she looked to Krypta with an ice-cold glare. "Accepting his fate is only becoming obedient to the suffering Invidia and the other Sins put him through...and I...won't let that happen!" She declared, frowning as she regained her stance, a golden circle forming beneath her feet. It flickered slightly, a sign of weak magic, but she either didn't notice or didn't care at the time. She scowled, pulling the ribbon of the bow that held her cloak to her shoulders so it gently fell from them, collapsing in an elegant pile on the dirt. She seemed ready to fight; it was the for the sake of saving Celio and countless others tonight, after all. "And I--I didn't do anything to him in the past! I only want to try and help him escape this suffering he's been put through...and I won't let anyone, or anything stop me!" She yelled to the girl, the magic circle under her feet beginning to spin, ready for an attack. "And if I have to, I'll send you back to your scythe form for the next hundred years to do so!"

[Tracian Empire]

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

The reactons of the various knights were different, even if Wulf clearly couldn't see them all. Some were confused, some were too busy to help their comrades to even be careful at what the boy was doing. Others were angry, while quite a few them seem to feel bad, seeing a little boy cry like that, even if it was a boy who clearly had some rather non-human powers..but the Grand Duke remained calm. A good ruler could certainly not let himself be taken over by feelings like that, and for the entirety of his reign, Konstantyn Ankwicz, Baron Kasprzycki and Grand Duke of Wyzkia had been known as a fair, just, and good leader. And perhaps more importantly than that, he had been and he still was a father - he certainly would have never tried to hurt or to intimidate a child.

"It's alright, I'm sure that you didn't want to do that on purpose, little boy.", the Duke told him in the same gentle voice as before, taking a step forward to remain as close as possible to Wulf without getting too close - and most surprisingly perhaps, the old man also got down on one knee, much like the knights before - but for him, the reason was different. He did it so that he wouldn't look down at the boy anymore, he did it so that him and Wulf could look directly at each other from the same level - since after all, even if he was calm, a crowned man wearing a shiny metallic armor would have still clearly been.. at least a little intimidating for anyone.

"I'm not sure what your power is, but it can't be too different from magic. Many of our young mages use Ancient magic when they are little, being unable to control their powers.. it's certainly not unusual. I set a tree on fire back when I was a child, frustrated that I had lost a game with my friends.. and we were in the middle of the castle's courtyard, of course." And the old man smiled. "You should come with me and your friends to the camp. We'll do our best there to help you control your power, what do you say? And of course, you can take your horse with you - we'll take good care of him too. But we should learn each other's name before that, don't you think? My name is Konstantyn, and I'm the old guy who is known as the Grand Duke of Wyzkia. What is your name, little boy?"

And of course, behind them all, something else was happening. Rafal, still crying, was holding Alina's hands into his, chanting the same spell, again, and again just.. wanting to help her. He had wanted to protect her from the beginning, and yet once again, he had failed..how could he ever be a knight if he couldn't even protect the people that he cared about? But at least, his spells seemed to work, easing her pain, as she collapsed against him, thanking him again and again.. and the green eyed boy was glad that he could at least do that.. that he could at least help her like that..and that at the very least, she trusted him, even if just a little. But then she talked again, asking him something..and as her voice falter, as he realized just how confused and afraid she was.. Rafal could feel an icy hand gripping his heart... making him think, again and again, at the same thing. What he could do? How could he protect her?

And in the end, the boy just smiled sadly, a little bit of blood trickling from his lip onto his chin, falling in small drops on his coat. "I don't know.. Alina.. I don't know.. it's probably.. because of that pain.. because of whatever created that horrible pain.. and I don't know.. but I'm sorry... I've told you that I would protect you.. that I would defend you from harm.. and yet, again and again, I've failed. I couldn't keep you safe from harm.. and I'm sorry..but no matter what.. I'll always do anything and everything that I can to help you, and to protect you..'"

---

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Julie was certainly not the only frustrated one there..hearing her, Celio bit his lip, desperately trying to remain calm. It was just so confusing..there is always way? What nonsense.. there was no such way for him, and he knew that.. he knew that, but she didn't. He had tried so many times to break free from those chains that controlled his every living moment. He had tried so hard to remember who he actually was, to give himself a purpose, a reason to live.. and he had tried so hard to realize just what kind of a monstrosity he actually was. But there was nothing he could do. Whatever hope he used to have had already been swallowed by despair.. and the only way through which he had been able to retain his sanity was just to abandon it.. long ago.. to abandon any hope that his fate could be change, and to resign to the idea that he was so going to be Invidia's slave. Was such a fate even that bad? He was going to bring a lot of pain to a lot of people, but the world was cruel anyway... and he envied them. He envied all of them.

Those who lived their lives in peace, protected from the cruelty and ugliness of the world. Those who had no idea what pain and despair were. Those who lived happy and fulfilled lives. Those who thought that they were so much better than others, sitting on their pedestal of light and self-righteousness, the Faith, the Scripture knights, the Faith Keepers, the Cult of Virtues..everyone and everything.. he even envied her. She was free, after all. She was a servant of the Light, one of those Archbishops of Virtue loved by people, she had a life, she had a future, she could do whatever she wanted.. and yet, she wasted her time and life on someone like him. How foolish..

It was a lot more than just her job, her duty? More than what Benevolentia wanted? It was she who wanted to save him? She promised, that she would stand for him when no one else would? She promised, that she would free him from Invidia? She was just so stupid and naive.. how could he ever believe that? It was true that she had been kind to him, and that she had tried to help him.. and he was really thankful for that.. but he couldn't believe that. It was her duty as the Archbishop of Kindness to be kind, wasn't it? It was her duty as the servant of Benevolentia to try to him, wasn't it? How could he believe that she would go that far, that she would do that much just to save him? Him? It was foolish, and pointless. He couldn't be saved, and he couldn't be changed. The last time he had tried to do that, the last time he had tried to trust someone like that.. it hurt... and having your hope crushed like that, and sinking deeper into all of that despair.. he wasn't going to experience that again, not now, never.

And as Krypta punched Julie, the crimson eyed boy placed the cold tip of the knife's blade in front of his chest..

The look of disgust, hate, and anger in Krypta's ruby eyes was simply.. too much, as she looked directly at Julie, tightly clenching her fists. "You're not trying to fool him? You always are, you.. you little lying...bitch!", the scythe in her human form shouted.. but behind her, Celio was murmuring something, caught in something like a trance, completely oblivious to what was happening around him. "You're always trying to fool him with your stupid and disgusting morality. Trying to have him do the right thing.....there is no right thing! You can't change fate no matter of how much you'd fight against it.. and his fate was cursed from the start. I know, because I've been with him from the very beginning.. I fought with him, I fought for him, I helped him, when no one else would, I was always there for him. He tired, we tried, and even back then, we realized that there was nothing we could do..and he had finally resigned to that thought, keeping that despair away.. everything was good.. before you showed up. He should have killed you back in that forsaken city. That's where everything started. You were the one who fooled him.. and he tried to do the right think, you know? In the middle of that chaotic and bloody and pointless thing, he tried to do the good thing. He felt horribly guilty for everything that he had to do, so he tried to do the good thing.. and he betrayed his own people. He betrayed his own people, he betrayed his own family, his comrades, everything he had ever known.. just to do the right thing And do you know what happened? Would you even care? It all ended with him, alone, surrounded by the bodies of everyone that he had ever cared about, betrayed by his so called friends, drowning in despair and in pain.. and then if you want to know what happened, just look at his neck.."

"You're such a self-righteous and arrogant but naive bitch. You don't know anything about how this world works. Even if you try to do the right thing, fate doesn't care. This world is cruel and ugly. Yes, he would have had to hurt a lot of people. and he would have felt guilty about it, but he would have survived. He wouldn't have fallen into that despair, and all those that he cared about would have survived.. instead they all died, and he died, just because he listened to you and your moral stupidity. If he were to remember everything that had happened back then, he would go insane.. but he would at least try to kill you.. which is what he should have done from the very beginning. And now? Now he's stuck in the darkness once again, and once again, you appear, trying to save him, to help him..just when he had gotten used to his fate once again. I won't let you do that. I won't let you fool him, I won't let you use your lies to take him on a path that will end with death and hopelessness once again. You're the cause for much of his suffering, and I will defend him from all of that, and from you."

The girl took a deep breath, as countless crimson magical circles appeared behind her. "You'll send me back to my scythe form? I'd like to see you try that.. little girl." Krypta snapped her fingers, and in the next moment, a lot of spears of solid darkness were thrown at her at once..

[Charlia]

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

The reactons of the various knights were different, even if Wulf clearly couldn't see them all. Some were confused, some were too busy to help their comrades to even be careful at what the boy was doing. Others were angry, while quite a few them seem to feel bad, seeing a little boy cry like that, even if it was a boy who clearly had some rather non-human powers..but the Grand Duke remained calm. A good ruler could certainly not let himself be taken over by feelings like that, and for the entirety of his reign, Konstantyn Ankwicz, Baron Kasprzycki and Grand Duke of Wyzkia had been known as a fair, just, and good leader. And perhaps more importantly than that, he had been and he still was a father - he certainly would have never tried to hurt or to intimidate a child.

"It's alright, I'm sure that you didn't want to do that on purpose, little boy.", the Duke told him in the same gentle voice as before, taking a step forward to remain as close as possible to Wulf without getting too close - and most surprisingly perhaps, the old man also got down on one knee, much like the knights before - but for him, the reason was different. He did it so that he wouldn't look down at the boy anymore, he did it so that him and Wulf could look directly at each other from the same level - since after all, even if he was calm, a crowned man wearing a shiny metallic armor would have still clearly been.. at least a little intimidating for anyone.

"I'm not sure what your power is, but it can't be too different from magic. Many of our young mages use Ancient magic when they are little, being unable to control their powers.. it's certainly not unusual. I set a tree on fire back when I was a child, frustrated that I had lost a game with my friends.. and we were in the middle of the castle's courtyard, of course." And the old man smiled. "You should come with me and your friends to the camp. We'll do our best there to help you control your power, what do you say? And of course, you can take your horse with you - we'll take good care of him too. But we should learn each other's name before that, don't you think? My name is Konstantyn, and I'm the old guy who is known as the Grand Duke of Wyzkia. What is your name, little boy?"

And of course, behind them all, something else was happening. Rafal, still crying, was holding Alina's hands into his, chanting the same spell, again, and again just.. wanting to help her. He had wanted to protect her from the beginning, and yet once again, he had failed..how could he ever be a knight if he couldn't even protect the people that he cared about? But at least, his spells seemed to work, easing her pain, as she collapsed against him, thanking him again and again.. and the green eyed boy was glad that he could at least do that.. that he could at least help her like that..and that at the very least, she trusted him, even if just a little. But then she talked again, asking him something..and as her voice falter, as he realized just how confused and afraid she was.. Rafal could feel an icy hand gripping his heart... making him think, again and again, at the same thing. What he could do? How could he protect her?

And in the end, the boy just smiled sadly, a little bit of blood trickling from his lip onto his chin, falling in small drops on his coat. "I don't know.. Alina.. I don't know.. it's probably.. because of that pain.. because of whatever created that horrible pain.. and I don't know.. but I'm sorry... I've told you that I would protect you.. that I would defend you from harm.. and yet, again and again, I've failed. I couldn't keep you safe from harm.. and I'm sorry..but no matter what.. I'll always do anything and everything that I can to help you, and to protect you..'"

For a moment, as she heard Rafal say that he didn't know, an idea began to take shape in the very back of her mind. For a moment, she realized what it might have meant, for only her to be the one experiencing that feeling. But it only lasted an instant, then banished with the barely-conscious thought that that idea was absurd and couldn't possibly be the truth. It definitely couldn't.

"I'm... I'm scared, Rafal," she whispered, and clung to him tightly. "But if you say you'll protect me, I-I believe you. I'm just... I'm scared... it felt horrible..."

Please don't let it happen again. Please. It was awful...

[Castle Crashers]

A forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice

The reactons of the various knights were different, even if Wulf clearly couldn't see them all. Some were confused, some were too busy to help their comrades to even be careful at what the boy was doing. Others were angry, while quite a few them seem to feel bad, seeing a little boy cry like that, even if it was a boy who clearly had some rather non-human powers..but the Grand Duke remained calm. A good ruler could certainly not let himself be taken over by feelings like that, and for the entirety of his reign, Konstantyn Ankwicz, Baron Kasprzycki and Grand Duke of Wyzkia had been known as a fair, just, and good leader. And perhaps more importantly than that, he had been and he still was a father - he certainly would have never tried to hurt or to intimidate a child.

"It's alright, I'm sure that you didn't want to do that on purpose, little boy.", the Duke told him in the same gentle voice as before, taking a step forward to remain as close as possible to Wulf without getting too close - and most surprisingly perhaps, the old man also got down on one knee, much like the knights before - but for him, the reason was different. He did it so that he wouldn't look down at the boy anymore, he did it so that him and Wulf could look directly at each other from the same level - since after all, even if he was calm, a crowned man wearing a shiny metallic armor would have still clearly been.. at least a little intimidating for anyone.

"I'm not sure what your power is, but it can't be too different from magic. Many of our young mages use Ancient magic when they are little, being unable to control their powers.. it's certainly not unusual. I set a tree on fire back when I was a child, frustrated that I had lost a game with my friends.. and we were in the middle of the castle's courtyard, of course." And the old man smiled. "You should come with me and your friends to the camp. We'll do our best there to help you control your power, what do you say? And of course, you can take your horse with you - we'll take good care of him too. But we should learn each other's name before that, don't you think? My name is Konstantyn, and I'm the old guy who is known as the Grand Duke of Wyzkia. What is your name, little boy?"

And of course, behind them all, something else was happening. Rafal, still crying, was holding Alina's hands into his, chanting the same spell, again, and again just.. wanting to help her. He had wanted to protect her from the beginning, and yet once again, he had failed..how could he ever be a knight if he couldn't even protect the people that he cared about? But at least, his spells seemed to work, easing her pain, as she collapsed against him, thanking him again and again.. and the green eyed boy was glad that he could at least do that.. that he could at least help her like that..and that at the very least, she trusted him, even if just a little. But then she talked again, asking him something..and as her voice falter, as he realized just how confused and afraid she was.. Rafal could feel an icy hand gripping his heart... making him think, again and again, at the same thing. What he could do? How could he protect her?

And in the end, the boy just smiled sadly, a little bit of blood trickling from his lip onto his chin, falling in small drops on his coat. "I don't know.. Alina.. I don't know.. it's probably.. because of that pain.. because of whatever created that horrible pain.. and I don't know.. but I'm sorry... I've told you that I would protect you.. that I would defend you from harm.. and yet, again and again, I've failed. I couldn't keep you safe from harm.. and I'm sorry..but no matter what.. I'll always do anything and everything that I can to help you, and to protect you..'"

As the Grand Duke began to speak, Wulf continued to cry, desperately attempting to hide his tears with his sleeve as he did. The Duke then knelt in front of him, finally drawing the young boy to open his puffy, red eyes and look at the old man. He sniffled, keeping his mouth partially covered by his sleeve as Konstantyn explained that his power couldn't be much different from magic, and that their own young mages used to be unable to control their powers, and that he wasn't unusual. Was it true? Did others really go through what he was going through? It made him feel a little better but...his unpredictability was still a problem. Then, the Duke explained that when he was a child, he'd caught a tree on fire because he had lost a game to his friends...and...perhaps it was the personal story or the gentle voice he was using, but...Wulf brought his sleeve down as his tears began to stop, though his cheeks were admittedly still wet with tears.

The man suggested he and his friends come to their camp, so that they could try and help him with his powers, care for his horse, and suggested they learn each others name first. Perhaps it was then that the glow slowly returned to the boy's eyes; curious, but content. "M...my name's Beowulf, but...most people call me Wulf..." He said softly, and as he was about to respond about his "friends," his ears tuned back into the sound of them both crying. His expression crumbled again, back into a look of...guilt. "...and I--I'm not so sure they're my friends, and I...I doubt they would want to be anywhere near me after this." He mumbled, looking downward as tears began to form again. "That's how everyone feels around me."

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Julie was certainly not the only frustrated one there..hearing her, Celio bit his lip, desperately trying to remain calm. It was just so confusing..there is always way? What nonsense.. there was no such way for him, and he knew that.. he knew that, but she didn't. He had tried so many times to break free from those chains that controlled his every living moment. He had tried so hard to remember who he actually was, to give himself a purpose, a reason to live.. and he had tried so hard to realize just what kind of a monstrosity he actually was. But there was nothing he could do. Whatever hope he used to have had already been swallowed by despair.. and the only way through which he had been able to retain his sanity was just to abandon it.. long ago.. to abandon any hope that his fate could be change, and to resign to the idea that he was so going to be Invidia's slave. Was such a fate even that bad? He was going to bring a lot of pain to a lot of people, but the world was cruel anyway... and he envied them. He envied all of them.

Those who lived their lives in peace, protected from the cruelty and ugliness of the world. Those who had no idea what pain and despair were. Those who lived happy and fulfilled lives. Those who thought that they were so much better than others, sitting on their pedestal of light and self-righteousness, the Faith, the Scripture knights, the Faith Keepers, the Cult of Virtues..everyone and everything.. he even envied her. She was free, after all. She was a servant of the Light, one of those Archbishops of Virtue loved by people, she had a life, she had a future, she could do whatever she wanted.. and yet, she wasted her time and life on someone like him. How foolish..

It was a lot more than just her job, her duty? More than what Benevolentia wanted? It was she who wanted to save him? She promised, that she would stand for him when no one else would? She promised, that she would free him from Invidia? She was just so stupid and naive.. how could he ever believe that? It was true that she had been kind to him, and that she had tried to help him.. and he was really thankful for that.. but he couldn't believe that. It was her duty as the Archbishop of Kindness to be kind, wasn't it? It was her duty as the servant of Benevolentia to try to him, wasn't it? How could he believe that she would go that far, that she would do that much just to save him? Him? It was foolish, and pointless. He couldn't be saved, and he couldn't be changed. The last time he had tried to do that, the last time he had tried to trust someone like that.. it hurt... and having your hope crushed like that, and sinking deeper into all of that despair.. he wasn't going to experience that again, not now, never.

And as Krypta punched Julie, the crimson eyed boy placed the cold tip of the knife's blade in front of his chest..

The look of disgust, hate, and anger in Krypta's ruby eyes was simply.. too much, as she looked directly at Julie, tightly clenching her fists. "You're not trying to fool him? You always are, you.. you little lying...bitch!", the scythe in her human form shouted.. but behind her, Celio was murmuring something, caught in something like a trance, completely oblivious to what was happening around him. "You're always trying to fool him with your stupid and disgusting morality. Trying to have him do the right thing.....there is no right thing! You can't change fate no matter of how much you'd fight against it.. and his fate was cursed from the start. I know, because I've been with him from the very beginning.. I fought with him, I fought for him, I helped him, when no one else would, I was always there for him. He tired, we tried, and even back then, we realized that there was nothing we could do..and he had finally resigned to that thought, keeping that despair away.. everything was good.. before you showed up. He should have killed you back in that forsaken city. That's where everything started. You were the one who fooled him.. and he tried to do the right think, you know? In the middle of that chaotic and bloody and pointless thing, he tried to do the good thing. He felt horribly guilty for everything that he had to do, so he tried to do the good thing.. and he betrayed his own people. He betrayed his own people, he betrayed his own family, his comrades, everything he had ever known.. just to do the right thing And do you know what happened? Would you even care? It all ended with him, alone, surrounded by the bodies of everyone that he had ever cared about, betrayed by his so called friends, drowning in despair and in pain.. and then if you want to know what happened, just look at his neck.."

"You're such a self-righteous and arrogant but naive bitch. You don't know anything about how this world works. Even if you try to do the right thing, fate doesn't care. This world is cruel and ugly. Yes, he would have had to hurt a lot of people. and he would have felt guilty about it, but he would have survived. He wouldn't have fallen into that despair, and all those that he cared about would have survived.. instead they all died, and he died, just because he listened to you and your moral stupidity. If he were to remember everything that had happened back then, he would go insane.. but he would at least try to kill you.. which is what he should have done from the very beginning. And now? Now he's stuck in the darkness once again, and once again, you appear, trying to save him, to help him..just when he had gotten used to his fate once again. I won't let you do that. I won't let you fool him, I won't let you use your lies to take him on a path that will end with death and hopelessness once again. You're the cause for much of his suffering, and I will defend him from all of that, and from you."

The girl took a deep breath, as countless crimson magical circles appeared behind her. "You'll send me back to my scythe form? I'd like to see you try that.. little girl." Krypta snapped her fingers, and in the next moment, a lot of spears of solid darkness were thrown at her at once..

As Krypta called her a lying bitch, Julie frowned, casting a momentary glance to Celio as he began to murmur something before she returned her attention to the scythe woman. She needed to get over to him, to do something to keep him from committing more sin during the night; but first, she had to get rid of Krypta. She explained that Julie was only trying to fool him with his morality, that she was trying to get him to do the right thing when there was no right thing, that she could never change fate...that fate was cursed from the start. That she had tried to help him from the beginning, that there was nothing they could do...that he had accepted that thought, that he had gotten rid of his despair before Julie showed up. She hissed that he should've killed her in that city, that it was where everything started...and Julie got the feeling it wasn't for anything good. Not like she hoped. She spoke that she'd fooled him, that he'd tried to do the right thing, that in the middle of...something chaotic and bloody, he'd tried to do the right thing...that he felt guilty, and he betrayed his people for it. That he betrayed everything he'd known, that it ended with him alone, surrounded by bodies, betrayed by his friends, that it ended with the scar on his neck...

...and Julie was admittedly shocked. She hadn't known...how could she? Who could've told her it would end that way? How could she have known her words would've caused him to do such a thing? Her tears returned as the shock and guilt stood clear on her face, silent as Krypta continued to call her a naive bitch, that she didn't understand how the world worked. That the world was cruel and ugly...that he could've hurt a lot of people and felt guilty, but would've survived. That he wouldn't have felt the despair, or lose his loved ones, that everyone and himself died just because he had to listen to her. That if he remembered everything, he would've gone insane, but...atleast he would've tried to kill her. That now that he was stuck in darkness again, she appeared to try and save him, when he'd gotten used to his fate once more. She spoke that she wouldn't let her fool him and take him on a path of death and hopelessness again...that she was the cause of most of his suffering, and that she would defend him from it. And...

...she was...right. Tears began to spill down her cheeks once more as she took a step back, casting a glance from Krypta, to Celio, to...her hands. "I'm sorry..." She said softly as she closed her eyes, the sorrow and guilt and hopelessness of the situation washing over her as her tears wet her cheeks once more. "I'm sorry it had to come to this...that it had to come to that...it...was never my intention..." She was silent for a moment. She pleaded Benevolentia for an answer to this, a way to work around this, a way to argue this, but...it was more distant than she hoped. How could she let this happen? She had wanted to help, but...she'd caused more sorrow in the end. "...and maybe you're right, maybe he should've killed me...maybe I shouldn't be here, but..." She furrowed her brow once more before she looked up, the tears falling down her cheeks. "I am..! I am, and it's because of him that I am! And...I'm sorry that my influence led to that...you have to understand that all that I've done, all that I've said, I--I only want to bring good things to him! I understand maybe I'm not the most qualified, maybe I'm not the best at this, but--but I'm all there is!" She yelled, her voice thick with tears once more. "I'm sorry he's lost everything, I understand that I'm part of the reason...but...you can't let that be in vain!" She continued, her will and strength returning. "If you let him suffer, if you let this continue, everything he's lost will be for nothing! I understand there are consequences to this path, I get it--I've lost people I care about too! I've seen people lose everything for this, but it's better than suffering in darkness and only finding sadness and despair in everything you do!" She screamed, her golden circle beginning to glow and spin again, watching as Krypta generated her own circles. "You can't live in fear of what's happened...you just have to keep going! There can't be light without darkness...and if you won't help me show him the light, then I'm not afraid to do it myself! If I have to...if I have to kill a god to save him, I'll do it! Whatever it takes, I don't care, I will give him a better life! It's what he deserves!"

As the spears launched for her, Julie quickly pulled up giant light pillars to block the spears, but they were jagged, nonuniform, and...unstable. They managed to slow the spears so they would crash into the ground instead of hitting her, but they quickly shattered to pieces upon impact. Her magic was weaker here...She had to be more careful than normal. "Maybe all that time ago it didn't work, you couldn't find a solution because you didn't have a Servant of Light to battle that evil, horrible darkness; but I'm here now!" She yelled, an honest, desperate look on her face. "We just have to work together...I know we can fight this...we just...have to trace it to the root and cut it there. I know you care about him, you don't want him to be hurt," She called to her, keeping an open, nonthreatening stance. "The only way to do that is to bring him to the Light, to fight the Sins away...we both want what's best for him, and I...I don't want to hurt you when we both want the same thing!" She yelled, her aura of warm, calm kindness returning, emanating from her...

She took a deep breath. "Please, Krypta...I...I don't want us to fight...I want us to both save him..." She kept a sincere look before she kept still, outstretching her hand. "And after we save him, if you still hate me, if you still want me to die, I...personally give you permission to end my life. Anyway you want. It won't matter...what does matter, right now, is saving his soul from further corruption so when he dies...he can be happy. Invidia won't release him, not now, not ever. We have to help him while we can...and when that's done, when he is free to do and choose as he likes...I won't defend myself should you choose to execute me."

[Tracian Empire]

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Nothing seemed to affect or interrupt the black haired boy as he was continuing to prepare his magic, but Krypta simply laughed... as tears started to roll down on Julie's cheeks... and the black haired relic really, really seemed to enjoy the look on shock and guilt on the girl's face. Julie tried to apologize, to say that this hadn't been her intention, to explain everything.. but Krypta was certainly not buying any of it... the look of hate and anger in her ruby eyes was rather obvious, as they started to slightly glow in the darkness that was slowly growing around them, with the sun close to disappearing over the horizon.

"You're sorry? You're sorry?", Krypta hissed, the loathing and the resentment present in her voice like poison. "It was never your intention? This just proves how naive you are, you little whore of Benevolentia! Do you think that your apologies are going to fix anything? Do you think that you saying that you are sorry will give him what he has lost back? Do you think that you acting like a hurt little puppy will help him? You've never helped him, and you never will. Your so called kindness if selfish, self-righteous, and disgusting. You don't know anything about how the real world works. You wanted to bring good things to him? I suppose that in the eyes of someone like you, his death would actually be a great thing." The girl clenched her fists again. "You disgust me. You might have lost people you cared about, but you haven't lost everything and anything you ever cared about.. and how is that better that continuing to live on, even in darkness? He did feel guilty, because he truly is a good person deep inside.. but he was doing what he had been told to do. He was protecting those he cared about it, even if they were on the other side of the barricade, and he did everything he could, to live and to survive in a war that so horrible that you couldn't even image it. And he got used to it, he could keep the despair at bay, he could have lived.. he could have lived, until you came and fooled him with an impossible hope. Yes, it would have been much better for him to live and to survive in darkness than to die in the light, you selfish bitch!"

And with that, Krypta launched her spears forward, and as she saw the weakness and instability in Julie's spell, she smirked. She could feel it too, after all, she was a cursed relic.. this was the night of sin and darkness, of corruption and evil. That little girl posing as a servant of the light, desperate to use her white magic would have no chance..

"We couldn't make that work because we didn't have a servant of Light with us? Just how selfish can you become, little girl?", Krypta asked, disgusted. "You don't understand anything, do you? My foolish master tried to do the real thing. He tried to join the light, to fight for what was good, to repent for his crimes.. and what happened? We discovered that this so called light is just as corrupt and evil as what you call darkness. Are knights better than necromancers? Are priests better than our cultists of sin? Are angels better than demons? Certainly not.. everything in this world is evil. Some are honest about it.. and some selfishly pretend to be something they aren't.. and you don't dare lie about it. You are just as selfish and self-righteous as all of them.. and if you need proof, just look at your little Faith and Cult of Virtues.."

"We can fight.. what? Against Celio's corrupted soul? Do you want to cut it? It would certainly free him would Invidia.. but it would also kill him. Is this really what you want? Are you that focused on the idea of saving him from sin that you'd rather have him die? Not that I'm surprised.. you don't understand anything, and you don't understand him. You want us both to save him? What right do you even have to save that? Don't you think that I've tried? I've seen him cursed to a life that he did not deserve, but I did my best to keep him alive, in the past, now, and forever. And now you come with your selfishness, and you claim that the only way for him to save him is to kill him? To have him die? As if there is such thing as a happy death... you haven't seen him there. You haven't powerless to stop his death, you haven't felt his despair.. I won't ever let you touch him again, you virtuous whore! "

Krypta snapped her fingers, and just as Julie was outstretching her hand, a small could of a shadowy, dark mist appeared in front of him, turning solid and hitting her with the force much like Krypta's earlier punch, throwing her at a few meters away, again. And Krypta smirked again. "I don't need your permission to end your life, little girl... Celio would hate the idea, but he's too soft for his own good..and what, do you think that I'd execute you? I'll have you die slowly and painfully.. I want you to feel the same despair and hopelessness that he has felt.. maybe that you'll understand just how horrible death is.." A black knife, much like the one that Celio was using, materialized in Krypta's right hand, and she used it to cut her left wrist. Blood immediately started to flow out, but instead of falling on the ground as it should have, it just remained there, in drops, defying gravity.. Krypta chanted something, and spears of her own blood, now solid, started to be created, taking their positions around her, floating, with their tips pointed at Julie.

"You think that killing him like that would save him? It's disgusting.. but you just said that you are ready to kill a god to save him... I've been created to slay gods, as the stories so.. this is the best chance you'll get." The girl snapper her fingers again, their blood red eyes now clearly glowing..and once again in just a few minutes, a lot of magical spears were thrown directly at Julie..

[Castle Crashers]

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Nothing seemed to affect or interrupt the black haired boy as he was continuing to prepare his magic, but Krypta simply laughed... as tears started to roll down on Julie's cheeks... and the black haired relic really, really seemed to enjoy the look on shock and guilt on the girl's face. Julie tried to apologize, to say that this hadn't been her intention, to explain everything.. but Krypta was certainly not buying any of it... the look of hate and anger in her ruby eyes was rather obvious, as they started to slightly glow in the darkness that was slowly growing around them, with the sun close to disappearing over the horizon.

"You're sorry? You're sorry?", Krypta hissed, the loathing and the resentment present in her voice like poison. "It was never your intention? This just proves how naive you are, you little whore of Benevolentia! Do you think that your apologies are going to fix anything? Do you think that you saying that you are sorry will give him what he has lost back? Do you think that you acting like a hurt little puppy will help him? You've never helped him, and you never will. Your so called kindness if selfish, self-righteous, and disgusting. You don't know anything about how the real world works. You wanted to bring good things to him? I suppose that in the eyes of someone like you, his death would actually be a great thing." The girl clenched her fists again. "You disgust me. You might have lost people you cared about, but you haven't lost everything and anything you ever cared about.. and how is that better that continuing to live on, even in darkness? He did feel guilty, because he truly is a good person deep inside.. but he was doing what he had been told to do. He was protecting those he cared about it, even if they were on the other side of the barricade, and he did everything he could, to live and to survive in a war that so horrible that you couldn't even image it. And he got used to it, he could keep the despair at bay, he could have lived.. he could have lived, until you came and fooled him with an impossible hope. Yes, it would have been much better for him to live and to survive in darkness than to die in the light, you selfish bitch!"

And with that, Krypta launched her spears forward, and as she saw the weakness and instability in Julie's spell, she smirked. She could feel it too, after all, she was a cursed relic.. this was the night of sin and darkness, of corruption and evil. That little girl posing as a servant of the light, desperate to use her white magic would have no chance..

"We couldn't make that work because we didn't have a servant of Light with us? Just how selfish can you become, little girl?", Krypta asked, disgusted. "You don't understand anything, do you? My foolish master tried to do the real thing. He tried to join the light, to fight for what was good, to repent for his crimes.. and what happened? We discovered that this so called light is just as corrupt and evil as what you call darkness. Are knights better than necromancers? Are priests better than our cultists of sin? Are angels better than demons? Certainly not.. everything in this world is evil. Some are honest about it.. and some selfishly pretend to be something they aren't.. and you don't dare lie about it. You are just as selfish and self-righteous as all of them.. and if you need proof, just look at your little Faith and Cult of Virtues.."

"We can fight.. what? Against Celio's corrupted soul? Do you want to cut it? It would certainly free him would Invidia.. but it would also kill him. Is this really what you want? Are you that focused on the idea of saving him from sin that you'd rather have him die? Not that I'm surprised.. you don't understand anything, and you don't understand him. You want us both to save him? What right do you even have to save that? Don't you think that I've tried? I've seen him cursed to a life that he did not deserve, but I did my best to keep him alive, in the past, now, and forever. And now you come with your selfishness, and you claim that the only way for him to save him is to kill him? To have him die? As if there is such thing as a happy death... you haven't seen him there. You haven't powerless to stop his death, you haven't felt his despair.. I won't ever let you touch him again, you virtuous whore! "

Krypta snapped her fingers, and just as Julie was outstretching her hand, a small could of a shadowy, dark mist appeared in front of him, turning solid and hitting her with the force much like Krypta's earlier punch, throwing her at a few meters away, again. And Krypta smirked again. "I don't need your permission to end your life, little girl... Celio would hate the idea, but he's too soft for his own good..and what, do you think that I'd execute you? I'll have you die slowly and painfully.. I want you to feel the same despair and hopelessness that he has felt.. maybe that you'll understand just how horrible death is.." A black knife, much like the one that Celio was using, materialized in Krypta's right hand, and she used it to cut her left wrist. Blood immediately started to flow out, but instead of falling on the ground as it should have, it just remained there, in drops, defying gravity.. Krypta chanted something, and spears of her own blood, now solid, started to be created, taking their positions around her, floating, with their tips pointed at Julie.

"You think that killing him like that would save him? It's disgusting.. but you just said that you are ready to kill a god to save him... I've been created to slay gods, as the stories so.. this is the best chance you'll get." The girl snapper her fingers again, their blood red eyes now clearly glowing..and once again in just a few minutes, a lot of magical spears were thrown directly at Julie..

"You don't get it..." She replied softly, angrily, her eyes locked onto the scythe-girl. "I'm not saying my apologies will fix anything! I never said saying sorry would reverse the multitudes of events I've triggered, I say it because I'm--I'm trying to show you that I genuinely care!" She yelled, throwing her hands out to express her feelings. "Maybe I don't know how the world works, maybe I'm blind, maybe I haven't lost everything...but I know pain! Atleast I have faith in the idea that there truly is good in this world, atleast I don't live my life cowering in fear and hate!" She cried with frustration. "and I...I never said death was good! I know it isn't the answer anyways, I mentioned it because...we don't know...what if it is what he wants..?" She mentioned, gesturing over to the boy in the bloody dirt before she turned her eyes back to Krypta.

"I'm not being selfish...why can't you see that!?" She yelled, pleadingly almost. "I'm being everything but selfish! If I was selfish, why would I have tried to fight the Faith to save him from that prison? If I was selfish, why would I be confronting death at this very moment to save him? If I was selfish, then why did I save him and forgive him after I watched him kill my father with my own eyes!?" She yelled with anger, a desperation to show that she was nothing of the names Krypta called her. She paused. "I understand that my Cult is not the purest, or the most forgiving, but that does not make this world evil! I never said I was my brothers and sisters in the Faith, for I know they are blinded by petty judgement and a bloodlust...I am not my Faith...I only fight for what's good, what truly appears as the kindest, most benevolent route!" She yelled once more. She could almost feel Benevolentia watching her with happy, proud eyes. It gave her more determination to continue.

"...I don't want to kill him...I want to save him." She answered, "I never wanted him to die, we will find another way to help him! I just...he mentioned dying to me moments ago...if he wants to die, I can't stop him. I just...don't want him to die with the weight of all this sin on his shoulders, or to have his soul locked under Invidia's control for an eternity...and you're right, I haven't felt his despair, his loneliness, his pain, but I know...we can fix it if we just...work together!" She yelled, and as she did,the mist appearing in front of her, knocking the breath out of her again as she slid across the ground meters away. She coughed and wheezed, struggling to sit up again as Krypta continued, speaking that she didn't need her permission to end her life, that Celio would hate it, but that he was too soft, that she wanted her to die slowly and painfully, that she wanted her to feel as he felt, to understand death. Her words...angered her. "Why..." She spoke, moving unsteadily to her knees, and then her feet. "Why...do you talk of him like that if you truly care for him so much..? Why can't you...support him for what he wants..!? Maybe I will die slow, maybe you won't take my permission, but I know that if you do this...he won't forgive you." She coughed, blood flying from her mouth and onto her sleeve. Her blue eyes were icy. "Killing me might be your only hope of saving him...but if that's what you want..." She watched as the scythe-girl cut her wrist, creating spears of blood.

It was then that, finally, she pulled her blade from its sheath, the blade glinting in the red light, the golden inscription beginning to glow. "You're wrong about me, you know..." She spoke, her voice growing stronger as she stood. "I think killing him would be the biggest mistake either of us could make. Saving him, preserving what sanity and good he has left is what matters to me..but to you..?" She shook her head with a scowl. "All you care about is preserving his flesh...so, perhaps, it's you that is the selfish one." As the spears shot for Julie, she was prepared. She ran for them, dodging a few and deflecting some more direct ones with her blades, that of which made an elegant bellow against the metal...truly, it had to be a holy blade. One managed to graze her arm, but she seemed unfazed. Instead, she continued walking towards Krypta, her gaze cold and determined. "Best chance? I'm fighting against a piece of scrap...I believe this is more of a practice round, if any. But if you really want to show me what it's like to fight a god, you're going to need to do better than a few blood sticks, tin can."

[Zapatha]

Jacquesville, Duivene
Day before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Jacquesville had been a madhouse for the past few days, as preparations were made to shore up the city's defenses for the upcoming Night of the Bloody Moons which was now only a day away. Peter had personally overseen preparations for the defense of the city's walls, as reports indicated that the cultists seen several weeks ago were congregating to raise an undead army to storm the city on the Night. Peter overlooked the surrounding countryside from just over the city's main gatehouse, seeing the thousands of tents which had been erected outside the walls by peasants that were denied entry to the city. Peter took no joy in leaving them out to die, yet it had to be done to ensure the survival of the city itself and his family as letting in thousand of dirty peasants would first off lead to the increased chance of disease spreading as well as deplete their food stores quickly if they were subject to a siege.

Being arbitrary by nature, Peter viewed them as nothing more than a wall of humans that the cultists' undead would have to fight before even reaching the walls. The walls themselves were armed with catapults and stocked with ammunition for archers and the catapults. Seeing as though magic wouldn't serve his defenses well on the Night, Peter supplemented that with silver weaponry being forged for most of the House Clermont mens manning the wall, as well as silver tipped arrows and flaming arrows. The gatehouse was the most heavily defended section of the city, with an steel gate which was already shut being the first layer of defense and a secondary wooden gate which was supported to by beams from the inside of the city. Barricades were also placed in front of the gates, though they were mainly placed there just to slow down the undead's march so the city's defenders could get better shots at them.

The city was being defended by all of House Clermont's professional soldiers as well as peasant levies from the Clermont's vassals, numbering around 10,000 in total. Among them, Peter had also conscripted around 2500 mercenaries from Anselm as well was 200 scripture knights with Peter himself as the commander. While Peter commanded the forces atop the walls his brothers Jean(https://www.pinterest.com.mx/pin/334744184788991299/) and Jacques (https://img.fireden.net/tg/image/1471/8 ... 183159.png) commanded the Clermont forces behind the gates and in the city itself.

Jacquesville was as ready as it could be for the night of despair to arrive.

[Tracian Empire]

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

"He doesn't want to die.. and he can't die. It's just you.. you and your influence again, trying to make him feel guilty for everything that he is doing. He is a good person.. but he has to realize that his survival is more important than this idiotic morality...why would his sins matter, if he can just.. survive? Live on? Even if it is as a slave of Invidia, he can survive.. he can avoid the death that he fears so much.. and at some point.. at some point we will see what we can about freeing him. Once he has recovered enough.. which is why I won't let you ruin everything again.", Krypta told her, with the same disgust clearly present in her voice. "You're just too naive, and stupid, and young.. We can just fix it if we work together? What do you know about the Sins? About souls and their magic? About necromancy? Nothing, you just come here with your repulsing kindness..but don't you anger me, little girl.", the scythe in her human form said, as her ruby eyes started to glow even brighter. "A piece of scrap? A practice round, tin can?", he asked, angrily. "I've been fighting in battles thousands of years before you even born, you bitch. While you were hiding in your little house with your mortal parents, I was fighting in the most brutal war your race has seen ever since the Age of Abhorrence.... I don't even have to fight like a god against your weakness and carelessness.."

And Krypta smirked. "There is one thing about those blood sticks that you have missed.. unlike light or shadow, blood doesn't simply disappear if you cut it in a solid form.. especially if it's someone's blood. You'll need more than a holy magical blade to beat me, girl." The raven haired girl snapped her fingers, and the spears that Julie had avoided, even those that she had avoided, sprang back into the air. The solid blood turned into liquid for a brief moment, before it transformed into thousands of little needle like, solid blood thorns, nearly forming a sphere around her.. all of them with their pointy ends towards her. Sword or not, Krypta was certainly about to turn Julie into a human porcupine..

But the scythe hesitated.. but blood suddenly started to soak the ground around them, with a gurgling sound. It was coming from beneath the ground, like a flood, and before any of them were able to do anything, the entire field of death became a pool of blood, with the blood coming all the way up to their ankles. And suddenly, they both started to hear the sounds of a battle.. screams, shouts, metal hitting metal.. as if they were in the middle of the battle that had been fought here.. before silence took everything once again. And then they noticed that Celio had finished his chants. He was now standing up, whispering something in what seemed to be Achisian, and tears, real tears this time, were rolling down his cheeks.. "I shall give you the gift of life.. rise.. come back, my brothers and sisters...", his voice strained by pain..and then out of a sudden, a cloud of a misty, shadowy like smoke appeared around him out of nowhere before it basically exploded, covering most of the field in an instant.

Krypta's blood magic stopped, the blood turning back to liquid and falling in the pool of blood that was still covering the ground, as both as he and presumably Julie took a few steps back, coughing because of the smoke. And as the smoke dissipated.. everything had changed.

The ground started to shake, as from under the soil and the blood, the skeletons, the dead, all started to rise. Knights of Duivene in their rusty armors, the dead Achisian mages, the peasant soldiers, the horses, an army of death and bones answered the call, standing up from their graves, their undead forms held together by dark magic. There were tens of thousands of them, rising everywhere around them, as far as the eye could see.. and once the ground stopped trembling.. Julie could see death everywhere around them, the skeletons in their armors and uniforms and coats, holding their rusty spears and swords, their eye sockets empty, their bones old and as white as death itself. As the undead raised their tattered flags bound to their lances.. that's when Celio laughed.

He was different.. his eyes were just as hollow as before, but his clothes seemed to have been mended.. even if some of the wounds on his arms were open, as obvious by the red stains that were growing on his sleeves. A black metallic crown was now resting on his head, having the form of a serpent, eating its own tail in a circular form, with eyes of silver, reflecting the last rays of the dying sun. Its colors were different.. but it was clearly Achisia's Eternal Serpent. It gave him once again, a true princely appearance.. but Julie clearly didn't spent much time admiring it.. as someone was now standing next to him. A girl.. a girl that she had seen once before, seeming to have roughly the same age as Celio, with a long, white-silverish hair, and with deep, purple eyes... Invidia. She was wearing a long and rather beautiful, frilly white dress.. so long that that the lower part of it was soaked in the blood that was covering the ground.

The Sin of Envy herself looked at Julie, smirking.. before she gently put her hand on Celio's cheek, as she kissed him for a few moments. The boy closed his eyes.. and as Invidia took a step back, pulling away, Celio took a deep breath. He looked a little better, even if he was horribly pale.. and it suddenly became rather obvious that if he would have done this without Invidia's magic, he would have died. Invidia then did a symbolic curtsy, still smirking. "My Prince..", she told him, the desire obvious in her voice.. and then she disappeared. One moment she was there, in the other she was gone.. but now Celio was tightly gripping a lance in his right hand, and a flag was tied to it, fluttering on the top.. a black banner, with a golden flame surrounded by a golden serpent eating its own tail.

Krypta was the first to react, immediately falling on her knees, in the ground that was soaked by blood, staining her black clothes.. but she didn't seem to care. Smiling, she bowed her head. "Fall on your knees for your Prince ,for your savior!", she shouted, seemingly on the verge of tears.. and suddenly, all of the undead did exactly what she said. All of those undead skeletons, even the horses, simply fell on their knees, bowing their heads, the knights, the mages, the soldiers, the spearmen, even the horses.

And Celio just smiled, looking at Julie with his hollow eyes, as if she expected her to kneel too..

[Tracian Empire]

A military camp near a forest
Northern Wyzkia
A few days after the Battle of Łówice


The duke had brought them to the military camp of his Armia Księcia, the Ducal Army. There is not much that could be said about the camp itself, it was a normal military camp of the era, with a lot of tents and a lot of improvised wooden buildings, surrounded by improvised walls of wooden spikes. Normally, the mages would have played a role in setting up the camp, but most of them were tired after the earlier battle with the undead hordes, and setting up some defensive spells and fields had taxed them even more, which meant that the soldiers themselves had to build the camp from ground up. The same tiredness of most mages was also the reason for why the Grand Duke was alone in trying to help the poor Wulf. They were in the camp's training ground, and some of the soldiers and the knights who had a bit more adrenaline than the rest were training on the field's other side with their weapons, but the old man and the boy were alone in the other half. Just like before, the Grand Duke was smiling calmly, even if he was no longer wearing his armor, instead opting for a simple outfit, the only mark of his true position being the crimson cloak. Wulf had also received a fresh set of clothes, noble's clothes even, making him look like a little prince, and like everyone else, he had spent most of the day so far resting, taking a bath, and eating.

"I'm still not sure what your power is exactly, Wulf, but I will have my mages look a little bit more into it, alright?", the old man started to speak. "Until then, completely controlling your power and using it at will is going to be just a dream.. but I'll do my best to help you keep it under control, alright? In the end, no matter of what this power is, it's still magic.. some sort of it. And our mage children, before performing the Oath and becoming proper mages, often use Ancient Magic by themselves. Now, explaining the exact differences between the Magic of the Oath and Ancient Magic is going to be a bit difficult, so all I'll say is that the Ancient Magic is influenced by feelings - and so seems to be your power. You only bring pain to other people when you are distressed or in pain yourself, right? That's what happened there, I believe, when your horse.. Jakob was his name, I think, ran away. Which means that the key to controlling your power is controlling your feelings. That's not easy, even the Loroi have issues with it, and it's the main reason for why our race mainly uses the Oath.. but can help put you on the right path. I went through this myself, like I've told you.. I was a pretty impulsive and mischievous child.. "

The Duke remained quiet for a few moments, probably thinking about his childhood, before he continued. "The trick is simply to focus on something that makes you feel happy. Something that makes you feel good. Whenever you think that you can not control your feelings anymore, whenever you feel bad.. close your eyes.. take a deep breath.. and think about the thing that you like the most.. or remember a happy memory. Come on, try it. Close your eyes.. focus on the breathing.. and think of something that makes you happy."

---

In the same camp
A few hours later
The Grand Duke's tent

Some time after he had helped Wulf, the Grand Duke called both Alina and Rafal in his tent. Like with Wulf, both of them had spent most of their day recovering after their harsh journey, eating, cleaning themselves, and being given new clothes, worthy of nobles of course. They had also both received a tent each, next to each other, and they went all the way to the Duke's tent together, with Rafal trying to calm her down and to explain just how good of a person the Duke was. The tent itself was guarded by two paladins, who apparently knew Rafal as they smiled and saluted him. Of course, they knew that the old monarch was expecting them, so they were quickly allowed to enter.

The tent itself was rather simple, without any sort of decorations or anything worthy of a nation's ruler. It was spartan, in more ways than one, even if that adjective didn't exist in this world.. they could only see a few weapons, a small bed, a desk, a chair, and a small altar for the Gods. The Duke himself was sitting on that chair, smiling and simply exuding a feeling of calmness as always. "Thank you for coming, you both. I would have offered you a place to sit, but there are no chairs that you could use, I'm afraid.... if you are tired, you can certainly sit on the bed though." , he told them in his usual gentle voice, and Rafal smiled. "Don't worry, your Majesty, I can stand up... if she wants to sit down however..", he asked, side-glancing at Alina. Regardless of her answer however, the Grand Duke continued to talk. "I hope that everything was alright, and that you managed to find some rest. I must apologize that I couldn't do more for both of you.. but this is a military camp after all. And I must also apologize for calling you both this late, but I had to talk with you.. I have some questions, of course, if you two don't mind. I clearly know who Rafal is, after all, he will be my future son-in-law..", he tried to explain, and hearing that, the green eyed boy blushed a little, looking at Alina and realizing that he had never told her about that... "But what were you two doing together, in the middle of a forest?"

The boy quickly tried to intervene. "I found her and I protected her against a group of cultists and deserters. Some paladins of the order helped us, and they brought us back here but we got lost.." And the Grand Duke nodded in acknowledgment. "But still, I believe that we were never properly presented to each other,", he said, looking at Alina. "I am Konstantyn Ankwicz, Baron Kasprzycki and Grand Duke of Wyzkia. You seem vaguely familiar, and you seem to be a part of a nobility, so we probably met before.. what is your name, my Lady?"

[Charlia]

In the same camp
A few hours later
The Grand Duke's tent

Some time after he had helped Wulf, the Grand Duke called both Alina and Rafal in his tent. Like with Wulf, both of them had spent most of their day recovering after their harsh journey, eating, cleaning themselves, and being given new clothes, worthy of nobles of course. They had also both received a tent each, next to each other, and they went all the way to the Duke's tent together, with Rafal trying to calm her down and to explain just how good of a person the Duke was. The tent itself was guarded by two paladins, who apparently knew Rafal as they smiled and saluted him. Of course, they knew that the old monarch was expecting them, so they were quickly allowed to enter.

The tent itself was rather simple, without any sort of decorations or anything worthy of a nation's ruler. It was spartan, in more ways than one, even if that adjective didn't exist in this world.. they could only see a few weapons, a small bed, a desk, a chair, and a small altar for the Gods. The Duke himself was sitting on that chair, smiling and simply exuding a feeling of calmness as always. "Thank you for coming, you both. I would have offered you a place to sit, but there are no chairs that you could use, I'm afraid.... if you are tired, you can certainly sit on the bed though." , he told them in his usual gentle voice, and Rafal smiled. "Don't worry, your Majesty, I can stand up... if she wants to sit down however..", he asked, side-glancing at Alina. Regardless of her answer however, the Grand Duke continued to talk. "I hope that everything was alright, and that you managed to find some rest. I must apologize that I couldn't do more for both of you.. but this is a military camp after all. And I must also apologize for calling you both this late, but I had to talk with you.. I have some questions, of course, if you two don't mind. I clearly know who Rafal is, after all, he will be my future son-in-law..", he tried to explain, and hearing that, the green eyed boy blushed a little, looking at Alina and realizing that he had never told her about that... "But what were you two doing together, in the middle of a forest?"

The boy quickly tried to intervene. "I found her and I protected her against a group of cultists and deserters. Some paladins of the order helped us, and they brought us back here but we got lost.." And the Grand Duke nodded in acknowledgment. "But still, I believe that we were never properly presented to each other,", he said, looking at Alina. "I am Konstantyn Ankwicz, Baron Kasprzycki and Grand Duke of Wyzkia. You seem vaguely familiar, and you seem to be a part of a nobility, so we probably met before.. what is your name, my Lady?"

It had been a relief to finally rest for a while. The food she was provided with helped to ward off most of her earlier exhaustion, though for a time she'd feared the nausea that refused to abate wouldn't allow her to eat. She'd finally been able to wash the remnants of that cultist's blood from her body... the feeling of his hands wouldn't go away so easily, nor would the other phantom sensations that had plagued her since those first days, but at the very least she was able to feel a little bit cleaner than before. And being given proper, new clothing made her feel a little bit more comfortable.

Of course, she had still been frightened when the Grand Duke had summoned her. She didn't know what would happen, what he would think of her--he hadn't seemed to recognize her, but if he had thought about it, maybe--

She'd tried her best to keep calm, but it was only when she'd found Rafal waiting for her that she'd started to truly relax. Rafal was safe. She could trust him. If he said that the Duke was a good person--then he was almost certainly right. She'd be okay.

Though his seeming familiarity with the Duke was odd, she thought. Still, she didn't have a lot of time to consider it--since when the Duke addressed them, she found most of her mind empty, and what was left consumed with nervousness once again.

He offered to let her sit on the only possibility left in the tent, the bed to be precise, and though it seemed a little bit strange, she accepted the offer. For some reason, it had become easier to tire her out, it seemed.

As he continued to speak, she listened intently, determined not to miss anything that might be important--though, when she heard what he said about Rafal, her eyes widened in surprise, and she glanced over at him only to find him blushing slightly. Then, he was engaged to the daughter of the Grand Duke himself... if she was honest, that made her feel awful. He should have been spending time with the girl he was going to marry, but instead he was wasting it on her. And then--the next question--

"N-No!" she cried, her distress at the implication clear in her voice. Only a moment later, though, she reddened in shame at her outburst, and at the idea--looking down, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "I... I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just... I'm not..." I'm not like that, I swear. I'm not. "And... and Rafal wouldn't do anything like that," she added, a bit more confidence in her tone. "If you know him--then you know he wouldn't--he was only trying to protect me, that was all..." If his integrity was called into question just because of her--please, please believe me.

The older man seemed to accept their explanations, though, and she responded with visible relief--though it didn't last long, as he soon continued on to say that they hadn't been properly introduced, and she tensed. He introduced himself by his full name and title, though he hardly needed to, since she knew quite well who he was... but then he went on to call her 'my lady' and asked for her name, saying that she seemed vaguely familiar. She kept her eyes fixed on the ground, clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking, and tried to keep her voice from trembling.

"M-My name is Alina Kry--" She started, and then stopped herself, closing her eyes tightly to try and hide the pain in them. She couldn't say that anymore, she could never say it again. She had no family now. She was just--no, stop, don't cry now, she begged herself, though she couldn't keep a few silent tears from escaping. "My name is Alina," she repeated softly, hating the weakness in her tone. "With... with all due respect, your highness, you... you're mistaken. I'm not... part of the nobility." Not anymore. "So... you don't need to call me that... you--you shouldn't. It's... it's not right." She fell silent, for a moment, still staring at the ground. "...Please," she asked, trying to keep herself audible. "Don't think badly of Rafal... He hasn't done anything wrong, so it wouldn't be fair to treat him differently just because he tried to keep me from being hurt... If you have to think poorly of someone, it can be me, but Rafal didn't do anything..."

[Castle Crashers]

Somewhere in Achisia
A field of death
The evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

"He doesn't want to die.. and he can't die. It's just you.. you and your influence again, trying to make him feel guilty for everything that he is doing. He is a good person.. but he has to realize that his survival is more important than this idiotic morality...why would his sins matter, if he can just.. survive? Live on? Even if it is as a slave of Invidia, he can survive.. he can avoid the death that he fears so much.. and at some point.. at some point we will see what we can about freeing him. Once he has recovered enough.. which is why I won't let you ruin everything again.", Krypta told her, with the same disgust clearly present in her voice. "You're just too naive, and stupid, and young.. We can just fix it if we work together? What do you know about the Sins? About souls and their magic? About necromancy? Nothing, you just come here with your repulsing kindness..but don't you anger me, little girl.", the scythe in her human form said, as her ruby eyes started to glow even brighter. "A piece of scrap? A practice round, tin can?", he asked, angrily. "I've been fighting in battles thousands of years before you even born, you bitch. While you were hiding in your little house with your mortal parents, I was fighting in the most brutal war your race has seen ever since the Age of Abhorrence.... I don't even have to fight like a god against your weakness and carelessness.."

And Krypta smirked. "There is one thing about those blood sticks that you have missed.. unlike light or shadow, blood doesn't simply disappear if you cut it in a solid form.. especially if it's someone's blood. You'll need more than a holy magical blade to beat me, girl." The raven haired girl snapped her fingers, and the spears that Julie had avoided, even those that she had avoided, sprang back into the air. The solid blood turned into liquid for a brief moment, before it transformed into thousands of little needle like, solid blood thorns, nearly forming a sphere around her.. all of them with their pointy ends towards her. Sword or not, Krypta was certainly about to turn Julie into a human porcupine..

But the scythe hesitated.. but blood suddenly started to soak the ground around them, with a gurgling sound. It was coming from beneath the ground, like a flood, and before any of them were able to do anything, the entire field of death became a pool of blood, with the blood coming all the way up to their ankles. And suddenly, they both started to hear the sounds of a battle.. screams, shouts, metal hitting metal.. as if they were in the middle of the battle that had been fought here.. before silence took everything once again. And then they noticed that Celio had finished his chants. He was now standing up, whispering something in what seemed to be Achisian, and tears, real tears this time, were rolling down his cheeks.. "I shall give you the gift of life.. rise.. come back, my brothers and sisters...", his voice strained by pain..and then out of a sudden, a cloud of a misty, shadowy like smoke appeared around him out of nowhere before it basically exploded, covering most of the field in an instant.

Krypta's blood magic stopped, the blood turning back to liquid and falling in the pool of blood that was still covering the ground, as both as he and presumably Julie took a few steps back, coughing because of the smoke. And as the smoke dissipated.. everything had changed.

The ground started to shake, as from under the soil and the blood, the skeletons, the dead, all started to rise. Knights of Duivene in their rusty armors, the dead Achisian mages, the peasant soldiers, the horses, an army of death and bones answered the call, standing up from their graves, their undead forms held together by dark magic. There were tens of thousands of them, rising everywhere around them, as far as the eye could see.. and once the ground stopped trembling.. Julie could see death everywhere around them, the skeletons in their armors and uniforms and coats, holding their rusty spears and swords, their eye sockets empty, their bones old and as white as death itself. As the undead raised their tattered flags bound to their lances.. that's when Celio laughed.

He was different.. his eyes were just as hollow as before, but his clothes seemed to have been mended.. even if some of the wounds on his arms were open, as obvious by the red stains that were growing on his sleeves. A black metallic crown was now resting on his head, having the form of a serpent, eating its own tail in a circular form, with eyes of silver, reflecting the last rays of the dying sun. Its colors were different.. but it was clearly Achisia's Eternal Serpent. It gave him once again, a true princely appearance.. but Julie clearly didn't spent much time admiring it.. as someone was now standing next to him. A girl.. a girl that she had seen once before, seeming to have roughly the same age as Celio, with a long, white-silverish hair, and with deep, purple eyes... Invidia. She was wearing a long and rather beautiful, frilly white dress.. so long that that the lower part of it was soaked in the blood that was covering the ground.

The Sin of Envy herself looked at Julie, smirking.. before she gently put her hand on Celio's cheek, as she kissed him for a few moments. The boy closed his eyes.. and as Invidia took a step back, pulling away, Celio took a deep breath. He looked a little better, even if he was horribly pale.. and it suddenly became rather obvious that if he would have done this without Invidia's magic, he would have died. Invidia then did a symbolic curtsy, still smirking. "My Prince..", she told him, the desire obvious in her voice.. and then she disappeared. One moment she was there, in the other she was gone.. but now Celio was tightly gripping a lance in his right hand, and a flag was tied to it, fluttering on the top.. a black banner, with a golden flame surrounded by a golden serpent eating its own tail.

Krypta was the first to react, immediately falling on her knees, in the ground that was soaked by blood, staining her black clothes.. but she didn't seem to care. Smiling, she bowed her head. "Fall on your knees for your Prince ,for your savior!", she shouted, seemingly on the verge of tears.. and suddenly, all of the undead did exactly what she said. All of those undead skeletons, even the horses, simply fell on their knees, bowing their heads, the knights, the mages, the soldiers, the spearmen, even the horses.

And Celio just smiled, looking at Julie with his hollow eyes, as if she expected her to kneel too..

Julie scowled at Krypta's words, shaking her head with disappointment. "You're wrong...surviving isn't living... and I...I don't think you get it...if he stays in this state, abused and used by the Sins, he can never recover!" She cried with frustration. "And yes, I might be young, I might be naive, but I know enough and have seen enough to know that dragging this on will hurt him more than it'll help him...with our combined power, nothing could stop us from saving him; an ancient relic and an Archbishop of Virtue working together...why won't you even give me a chance to try!?" She yelled angrily, gripping her sword tighter. "Do you really want him to continue suffering, in pain and sorrow for the rest of his life? Is that what you really want? How can you consider that surviving when it's killing him from the inside out!?"

As Krypta chided on angrily about her insults, Julie sighed, readying her stance for another attack. "But I suppose your answer is clear, and so is mine. If you really want to stop me, you'll have to kill me first." Perhaps it was then that she mentioned that blood magic didn't simply fade with a deflection or cut, and that she'd need more than a holy blade to defeat her...but she still seemed unfazed, even as the blood rose from the ground, forming a sphere of thorns around her...Julie kept her hand lower to her side, ready to create a ball of hard light around herself, determined to defeat the relic...but...

She hesitated. It was then that Julie noticed the blood seeping up from the ground, dousing her shoes in the thick liquid, and she frowned. Her heart sank. She was too late...Celio was going through with the spell...and almost with perfect timing with her realization, the sounds of battle returned to the dead field, only for a moment...and it was then she noticed that Celio had stood, real tears falling from his cheeks, calling for the dead to rise in a broken, pained voice...before he disappeared into a black mist that overtook the field. The moment she breathed it in, she began to cough, keeling over slightly...the smoke carried a horrible, evil feeling with it...it nearly made her sick to her stomach. And then...it was gone. In it's place were hundreds if not thousands and thousands of undead, dressed in their rotting robes or rusty armor...even the horses had been raised. She...felt weak. Weaker than before, and her heart ached. This was...wrong...very wrong...she uneasily covered her mouth with her hand in horror of the scene before her. How was she going to be able to stop this..?

Then, Celio laughed, drawing her terrified blue eyes back to him. In that short time, he had changed. His clothes were mended, and now, he wore a crown...that same eternal serpent symbol that the younger Celio had displayed in the sky on her rescue mission...Achisia's Eternal Serpent. It was...weird seeing him so put together and elegant. Unusual, almost. And then...she saw her. obviously otherworldly appearing with her long, silver hair and her purple eyes...it was hard to displace her from before. Invidia herself, damning them all with her appearance, dressed in an elegant white dress, quickly stained with blood from the ground. Julie gripped her sword with anger, unease...why did she decide to show herself now..?

The answer was quickly clear as she gave a smirk to Julie, a sickening look on her face, an...evil look. Everything about her felt evil. And then...she kissed him. Everything about it felt...unnatural. Julie wanted to look away, but she...found it almost impossible to. She could only watch with discomfort and anger as she kissed him for what felt like way longer than necessary. It was...quite obvious she was doing it to spite the Archbishop. But...it was only revealing more to her about the whole deal on Celio's tie to the Sins...and she felt like it was her worst fears coming to reality. He seemed to look stronger, healthier after the kiss, but the idea that maybe he'd actually enjoyed it...stung, almost. She knew it was likely because the goddess had purposefully given him that strength that way, but...the concept was alarming. Invidia then curtsied, calling him "Her Prince" in a terribly desirable, seductive voice...and it made her chest fill with a ball of hatred. It burnt, it made her more angry. She was gone by then, but it was clear that Invidia was trying to keep him tied to this Sinful life in more ways than one...

She hated it. It was abusive, it was unfair...she was tricking him...she never realized that she was gripping the hilt of her sword so hard that her knuckles had turned white. She was furious...she didn't react as he held a lance in his hand, a flad tied to it...she was focused on wondering on the dwindling ways she could work him out of this control...but...if she was truly convincing him and using this way, how could she..? As Krypta fell to her knees, calling for all to fall to their knees for their Prince, their savior, the thousands of other undead following her lead, Julie stayed standing. Even as he smiled and looked to her with a sense of superiority, of control, she didn't bend. The look of anger on her face was unusual...she almost seemed on the verge of tears. "I vowed I would save you from her..." She told him, taking a step forward, her sword still low in her hand yet gripped tightly. "No matter what it took, I promised you that...and I'm not going to go back on it now...even with every single odd stacked against me!" She said strongly, angrily. "If I have to fight you every step of the way for it, I will...I...don't really want to, I have no desire to hurt you, but...you're in control of whether I have the choice to or not."

[Zapatha]

A few miles from the forgotten city, Achisia
Evening before the Night of the Bloody Moons

Death and destruction was all Arthur could see for miles around him, with the rusted out husks of armor and decaying handles of weapons in the fields of old Achisia. Arthur had fought many battles in these tainted lands and lost many friends to a stray arrow or the death magic of the cruel Achisian sorcerers in the closing days of the war. The world was much different back then... Arthur thought, as he made his way down the muddy road.

He could already feel the light magic within him slowly fading, as it did every time the night came to pass, which Arthur had experienced several times before in his life. This feeling truly disturbed him, and was one of the only things Arthur truly was terrified of as he felt helpless to the machinations of darkness during this time. Arthur had learned however to use whatever magic he still held onto to maintain the powers of his sword and his own physical strenght, albeit removing his ability to cast spells. He had left Velikiya some time back with a small contingent of Velikiyan soldiers and his Scripture's knights to assist Council forces in fighting back any Cultists attempting to take advantage of the Night of the Bloody Moons.

When he arrived at the old fort, the first thing that Arthur immediately noticed were the lack of defenders actually present. When he had arranged to assist in the fort's defense against cultists he had been told that almost 5,000 troops would be stationed here yet it seemed more like around 1,000. The soldiers stationed here also looked like scared children more than trained soldiers of the realms. It seemed as though that either he had been lied to by the Council or some sort of desertion had already occurred before he had arrived. Nevertheless, Arthur called the troops to attention in the small fort's main courtyard to inspect the amount of men he had under his command. Around 1,500 men in total and of those around 50 Scripture knights from his own Scripture, which was far less than he had hoped for.

Arthur's first orders were to seal off the fort's gates using wooden beams and to equip the walls with enough ammunition for archers as possible, as holding the walls and keeping the gates shut would be the fort's only hope of survival if a cultist army were to attack. Knowing they wouldn't have access to magic, Arthur also ordered for the fields outside of the fort's stone walls to be poured on with oil so while in battle a single flaming arrow could ignite the field into a fiery death trap for the undead or anything else the cultists threw at the fort.

[Tracian Empire]

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alina. I must apologize for my assumption, but there is no reason to call you otherwise. You don't have to be a part of something as arbitrary as the nobility to be considered a lady in my eyes, but if you dislike then, I shall just call you by your name.", the Grand Duke answered in the same calm voice, with the same gentle smile on his face. As soon as he heard Alina starting to apologize, Rafal had wanted to intervene, to try to help her - but the old man had slightly raised his right hand before he had started talking. "But it seems that you have misunderstood me, Alina. I would not think badly about you or about Rafal here. I have no reason to question his loyalty or his integrity. Rafal is good boy, and he will be a proper knight and a great paladin one day. If he says that he has found you and that he has protected you from those who wanted to hurt you then there is no reason for me to believe otherwise, nor would I even think that he would do anything to bring dishonor to his name and legacy. It is one of a knight's commands to help and to protect those in need, after all. And I've seen it myself, more than once, that Rafal would do anything to help those in need."

Rafal was clearly worried about Alina, and he was feeling bad about what she had said.. or well, he was feeling bad about she had tried to take all of the blame on herself, even if there was no blame to be taken, just to protect him... and of course.. her refusing to tell her family name, and claiming that she wasn't a part of the nobility reminded him of that bastard who dared to call himself her father.. and that also made him a little angry. But still, when the Grand Duke praised him like that, the green eyed boy couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

"You should not worry about it, Alina, as I do not use to think badly of people that I just met either.", the old man continued. "I was not trying to imply anything, and I am sorry if I have made you feel bad. I can only imagine how stressing it is for you to be here, but you don't have to worry about anything. If Rafal has gone out of his way to help you and to protect you, it means that you really were in danger, and I will not ask any further questions about it. As long as you need it, Alina, you will be my guest here, and you won't need to worry about anything." And the Grand Duke remained quiet for a moment. "And I'm sure that Rafal here would be more than glad to be able to protect you until you will no longer be in danger, right?", he asked, turning around to look at the boy, who bowed his head, putting his clenched first over his chest in a gesture of obedience, ceremonial for all knights. "Of course, your Majesty. I've promised that I would protect her.. and I intend to keep that promise."

[Faal Lot Himdah]

The Forgotten Prince, Az'goxaak
Borderlands of the Ecclesiarchy

---

"Well, not a true angel..." Az said and looked at the knight, "Still angelic though, making her something unique."

His attention then turned to the artificial angel and pointed to the sky, "Angels immortal beings that dwell beyond our world, far up there. They look like us, but with the wings of a bird coming forth from their back. Like those who walk this world, they can be good or bad." He then lowered his hand, "As for person. A person is anyone how walks this world and speaks. I am a person. This knight is a person. You are a person."

"No, those are not a name." Az said and lifted the red cloak back over her shoulder, "Nor is that a name. A name is not something you can see. But despite that, is very important. A name is something that you are given by those who care about you. By those who do not wish any harm upon you. A name is a word that you are known by, a word that has greater meaning than you'd think. A name is capable of both rallying armies and routing armies. A name can change the course of history. It is a powerful thing that everyone can have. The fact that you have no name is saddening as everyone deserves one... so I ask you this, do you want one?"