I staggered my way to where the undead had come from only to find the broken mask laid gently against the rubble. My mind went through the events up to the point where such a powerful undead came to our rescue cutting down forty of its kin without remorse. Neither Vilra or myself could speak as blackened portals appeared on the ground and the sudden appearance of the others who were badly hurt. Noticing that Nyxis wasn't among us, I searched the horde for any signs of her only to discover that the same undead had saved her as well. Like everyone else, I saw how delicately it placed its hand on Nyxis that reminded me of how Theo would touch me when injured.
Anger burned in my chest for my own shortcomings and for not being able to keep Jackal's corpse close at hand. I wished to lay him next to our mother and father in the VonKnight crypt where he belonged with the past kings that made up our family. It was the least I could do as a reprimand for the trauma he went through alone without the slightest glimmer of light at the end. That was of course if I managed to both retrieve his corpse without severely damaging it beyond recognition and make it back to Ironclad in one piece. Still, my mind wasn't at ease at how easily he was taken away from me after training to the point that I couldn't walk for a week straight hoping to bring him home no matter his mindset.
My legs buckled from the excessive shaking sending me to my knees while tears began to stream down my cheeks. The sudden realization that I was not strong enough to fulfill the promise I made to the portrait painted a few days before everything went to hell, the promise to keep Einor safe and guide him back into the light. I dug my nails into my thighs without ceasing at the screaming pain nor did I let up when blood began to trail down my inner leg. For the first time in years, I felt like the same little girl frozen in horror at the sight of my parents laying still with my brother sitting inches away, conveniently unconscious. I knew he would never harm the parents he cherished just as I knew he wouldn't harm me but the seeds of betrayal were still sewn.
[(Why am I still weak?! Why wasn't it me that was at the manor that day? Why must he be taken from me once more?)]
A hand came to rest on my shoulder as dark clouds guided my thoughts to a place no one should go. "He's alive," Vilra muttered, "though I don't understand it myself but that Wraith we saw leave this place was your brother. Their auras match one another to an extreme degree and his eyes held traces of life unnatural for true undead."
Looking up, I found her gazing at the shadow person with burning orbs floating in a sea of darkness. The figure's arms were crossed or that was how the outline of his body seemed to me as he leaned against a rooted tree and watched the distant battles. For one reason or another, I remembered a story Einor had told me about the three sibling primordials and about how the eldest was punished for breaking the law held in place. Einor had always found this particular deity interesting more than the other primordials for his will to go against the natural order of things and bring light to a world void of it. If my memory serves me well, the Primordial ruled from the shadows and often was depicted as a figure without a natural body of its own.
"Tell me Rebellious One," Vilra snapped at the figure as she helped me to my feet, "what did we do to receive such an occasion?"
The figure didn't say anything as three large domes erupted from the battle before us shaking the ground underneath. "Zyher," the figure spoke, "is awakening once more, Vilra. I know you feel his pungent aura seeping into the surface for the Culling to begin again. That is why I decided to appear before you after years of being free from that sarcophagus Khokbus and you placed me in."
[(Zyher? Sarcophagus? Culling? What does any of this have to do with Einor?!)]
Looking from the shadowy figure, my gaze fell on the battle a distance away as several sparks spiraled into the sky from colliding auras. I could see Einor, or the undead that's supposed to be Einor, interlocked with the Ghoul who held a bone blade in front of him intercepting Einor's overhead strike. Lights of blood crimson intersected with the brownish green hue emitted from the Ghoul as the two unnatural forces vied for dominance over the other. Neither held back nor gave up ground as a shockwave rippled around them destroying the charred earth underfoot with ease. It looked like the two were in a stalemate and would be at the battle for a long time, or that would have been the case if I didn't notice the shadowy traces leaving the Ghoul and congregated within Einor.
I blinked my eyes as the mana to keep the Farsight spell activated began to dwindle away and pain began to set in. "There's no need to strain yourself," the shadowy primordial chuckled as he held out a hand with the palm facing down, "we shall observe the battle from here."
Curious, I watched as a small orb of dancing shadow fell from his palm and passed through the dirt ground before him. Nothing happened at first until a black haze began to rise forming a wide rectangle at the center of our aww struck group. Slowly, the haze connected in the center like some tavern table that was soon replaced with three clear images of the independent battles being waged. In each fight, both opponents were evenly matched when it came to destructive strength and defense. All we could do was watch and feel the ground outlining the large crater grow in size.
Each view was low to the ground making the figures in the foreground bigger than they were while the objects tucked behind seemed some distance away. The top scene was the battle being fought between Elasar who stood as tall as the guild hall in Ironclad and the undead dragon that flew with tattered leathery bat wings. The left scene was of Tartarus in a more serpentine form wrapped around the Death Knight who held back the tightening coils with its large shield while trying to get a solid grip around smooth scales. When I turned my gaze to the last scene, my heart felt like it was going to burst as Einor was on the ground struggling to keep the point of a bone spear from penetrating his chest. Though his face didn't show it because of its form, the two mismatched orbs told the truth.
Lovic's hilt began to feel warm within my palm as Einor's shoulder was ran through and the Ghoul snarled over him. Watching black blood ooze from his shoulder with each attempt to push the Ghoul off him made my blood boil and the white light surrounding Lovic grow brighter. I had enough watching on as Einor fought alone and was about to join in when Zeke placed a hand on my shoulder urging me to continue watching. On multiple occasions, he along with Scarlett and Nyxis have demonstrated such loyalty to Einor with a moment of hesitation that reminded me of the relationship I had with Uncle. Even though he was family, I was truly loyal to the crown of Ironclad and the legacy of our family that wore it in the past.
[(If they are willing to believe you will win, then so shall I brother. Show them all the will that makes us VonKnights!)]
I smiled as one of the thin armor piercing blades Einor carried was driven deep into the Ghoul's neck forcing it off of him. Wasting no time, Einor appeared behind the Ghoul with another blade in each hand and began to change the tide of battle. His body became transparent with each fury filled fist of the Ghoul as it tried to pull the blade free only to be stabbed or sliced in quick succession. I took note that when the Ghoul's fist went through Einor, a trail of shadow went with it only to be whole once more. Little by little, it seemed that Einor was understanding his new form and the abilities he now had.
Suddenly, the Ghoul's aura erupted with a loud growl knocking Einor off balance with just enough time to place the two blades in front of him blocking a strong right hook that sent him sliding backwards. I watched with fearful eyes as the two blades crumbled to shards of broken metal leaving only the hilts and surprised eyes behind. A cruel grin began to spread on the Ghoul's face as it easily pulled the blade from its neck and crumbled it in his bare hands before allowing the shards fall from its palm. At such a sight, I noticed Einor's eyes flickering like he was laughing at the sight. Though whether such laughter was from fear or enjoyment, I could not say for sure.
An orb of shadow appeared in Einor's palm taking the form of a shadowy blade with trailing wisps of smoke while the Ghoul's bone spear became like that of a short sword favored by most knights for their sturdiness and light. Each combatant took a step forward only to collide in the middle before disappearing once more. Their movements reminded of the fuel between Einor and the Beastking but seemed more wild or untamed. They were like two alphas fighting for the right to lead the pack in an unrehearsed dance. Neither one broke stride in dealing and receiving blow upon blow sending ripples throughout the space.
That being said, Einor seemed to be fading as each strike started to become dull and reflex became much slower than the principles father had taught us. Looking at the others, I saw that they noticed the descending change as well yet none moved to aid him from either fear of the Shadow Primordial or their respect for Einor. In a way, I understood the latter reasoning because of a past situation. It was when Einor was taken away and I walked the cobbled streets of Ironclad with my mind on him. I found myself in a tough spot with the daughter of another noble family and was outmatched by her strength in a duel.
[(If Uncle and Freya had intervened, I would have been spared a black eye and bruised ribs but I would not have learned to rise above such setbacks. I trained with Lieutenant Combs in the art of swordsmanship until overcoming the noble in a later tournament.)]
I had to allow Einor to overcome such an adversary that managed to kill him or he would not be able to be the King he truly desired to be. With the two trading blows, I turned my attention to the top scene just in time to watch Elasar trying to swat the dragon out of the sky missing by a hair's length. Green flames poured from the dragon's decayed mouth leaving a trail of charred bark as it dove underneath Elasar's approaching hands. From his chest down his massive side burned away yet the Ent didn't seem to mind as one of its tree-like fingers brushed against the dragon. However, my attention was mainly focused on the near invisible cloud of spores which came from the yellow flowers weaved into bark and vines.
Moving my eyes among the others, it appeared that I was the only one to see such a trick though that went for most of us besides the primordials. Both Vilra, and the Shadowed One didn't move their eyes off the battle between Einor and the Ghoul except for the slight twitch of their neck to the top scene. Their eyes were focused on the cloud of spores dancing softly to the ground before being flown through and gathered deep within old wounds. Vilra's eyes met mine which in turn made me ashamed of looking upon such a deity without permission. Mother had often taught us about the respect we show to the old gods, especially the Primordial of Dreams who flutters on black wings.
Vilra gave a small grin before returning her gaze to the unfolding battles being played out as the two fluttering pixies fluttered about. "Rola," the pixie with red wings muttered, "isn't Jackal the one Mistress sleeps with?"
Though the situation was dire, I held back a snicker and looked to Nyxis who just stared at Einor's fights with a small grin. "Ow!" the same pixie rubbed her head after being struck by the pixie with blue wings.
I was reminded of Einor and I were children when the blue winged pixie continued to flutter above the other with her hands on her waist. She snapped, "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! You don't blabber about such things in public nor in this situation! Stupid Astren!"
It was Astren's turn to snap back, "How am I stupid!? I just thought it was the same person and wanted to be sure. I mean, think of all the sweets he brings Mistress that somehow gets eaten before she has some."
Intrigued by the conversation, I watched as Rola began waving her arms repeatedly while shushing Astren in a failed attempt to keep her quiet. A faint cough came from Nyxis as the air became a little more colder and the air more electrified. With stiff shoulders, Rola froze mid movement and slowly turned to face her Mistress. Her skin began to pale and her body shivered along with Astren who fluttered evenly with Rola. I looked at Nyxis and found that her head was positioned in a way that her emerald eyes stared piercingly at them.
Seeing such a gaze, the two flew into each other's arms and began sputtering apologies that sounded like complete gibberish. "If we survive this," Nyxis muttered coldly, "I know two pixies that are going to be scrubbing the ceiling for a month and go without desert as well. Poor Aron, I can't believe you let him take the blame for your scheme."
Knowing it was no use to argue, the two pixies slumped over like people unable to sleep for a month or two straight. The two spoke in defeated unison, "Yes Mistress."
I chuckled a little before returning my gaze to the shadowy table and found myself watching the battle between the Death Knight and Tartarus. The Death Knight stalked toward Tartarus swatting each futile spell to the side with its shield. Several of the winged serpents rushed to intercept the decayed knight while the remaining two stayed beside their master only to be cleaved in half. As their bodies returned to their true state and reunited with their master, the Death Knight continued forward growling an inaudible war cry without hesitation. Tartarus did not show fear as it morphed into the black mass like before and appear in front of him with the large blade ready to cleave meat from bone.
With ease, Tartarus caught the descending blade between his index finger and thumb just before it made contact with the top of his head. A smile grew on his face when he wrapped his remaining fingers around the blade and began to squeeze until faint cracks began to spread throughout it. The Death Knight tried to attack with his shield but was halted by the two serpents who seemed to become smaller and more lengthy as they coiled around its limb bringing it close to its broad chest. A shrill scream came from the forever open maw of the knight as Tartarus drove his right fist deep into its chest and pulled Nyxis' sword free along with its unbeating heart. Even from where we stood, the scent of fear could be felt in the open air.
Like before, Tartarus appeared before us wrapped in thousands of serpents that formed his single body with Sylla and the heart in hand. "Decent blade for a Ljósálfar," he smiled, handing the blade hilt first to Nyxis, "a good blade was hard to come by during my time. I'd make sure to hold onto it."
Without hesitation, Nyxis took the blade from him and wiped it clean before resheathing it. She nodded her thanks, "I'll keep that in mind. Are you sure the battle is over? The Death Knight just pieced itself together when I fought it."
"It's fine," Vilra answered as she nodded toward the scene.
Following her gaze, I was surprised to see that the Death Knight was standing forever frozen with its own blade buried deep into its left eye socket while its body began to crumble away. Hundreds upon hundreds of serpents slithered throughout its body sinking their fangs deep into decayed flesh as the six larger serpents came together to form a materialized body of the violet aura from earlier. Each head sat eye level with the Death Knight daring it to move an inch as their eyes glowed different shades of red. With mouths agape, phantom particles outlined by a blue aura spiraled from the Death Knight and into the mouths of the serpent becoming one with it. The Death Knight fell to its knees as the once supportive legs crumbled to dust, disappearing in a tide of scales.
"Its soul," Tartarus coldly muttered as he squeezed the heart until it was an oozing blob, "is spread throughout the body and not fully formed in one vital area like most undead. Though the heart did carry a great deal of it."
I watched the ooze filled shell slowly dematerialized to dust leaving behind a small black jewel resting in his palm. With care as to not break it, Tartarus pinched the jewel between his clawed fingers before holding it out so that the rest of us could see. A mass of yellowed orange smoke spiraled within the black gem and collided upon itself trying to break free. The gem was a catalyst to bind a person's soul for later use. It was both mesmerizing and unnerving to see how a simple jewel could be used as a prison.
Cracks began to form throughout the gem as the mass began to leak through the small openings and run the length of Tartarus' arm. He muttered as the last of the defiant gem burst to pieces, "You are seeing a soul being devoured by another dominant one. Without the soul, such undead are rendered to nothing but useless husks."
Turning to the Death Knight, I watched as the six headed serpent slowly dissipated into the air following the crumbling vessel disintegrated into a husk of its former self like the old Infernal mentioned. I felt oddly sad for the poor sop that was brought back to this world only to become a meal for another. A question presented itself to me in the effect that if Einor had recently awakened as an undead, does that mean he would be next to be eaten? Dämon, no matter the tribe, are often portrayed as schemers looking for a new soul to corrupt in order to gain power. The most notable are the seven Lords that rule the territories of the frozen north with such power gained over time.
[(Vilra mentioned past Calamities when Tartarus and Elesar appeared in our time of need. Then the Rebellious One called Einor a Song of Calamity when he came back from the jaws of death. Does that mean Einor is just like Tartarus and has the ability to consume a person's very soul, living or dead? Another question is, what truly are Songs of Calamity?)]
My mind raced with more questions than answers but those would have to wait for now or until Einor was once again himself. Thinking of him, my eyes found that he was pinned with his back against rubble within the crater where the battle started. Several bone spikes penetrated his body yet he still continued to fight as black blood coated his entirety. The Ghoul had its foot placed against Einor's chest holding him like a flopping fish freshly caught from the stream. Black smoke rose from Einor as he tried to faze through the spikes and away from danger for a moment's rest only to have his head slammed into the ground and body impaled once more.
Again the urge to aid my brother rose up in my chest only to be held back by Zeke's calm hand and watchful eyes. I thought about slapping him and making a run for the crater but I knew I'd only get so far especially if the undead horde decides to make a second appearance and run rampant. Both my mana and stamina reserves were running at the bare minimum at the moment but something needed to be done or Einor would die once more. Again my eyes met Einor's glowing orbs as he wrapped a hand around the Ghoul's ankle trying to push him to the side. I slammed my hands on the black table only to have them pass through sending a ripple throughout the three scenes.
"He will pull through," Zeke muttered, "your brother is more dangerous when the odds are against him. I should know after many attempts at killing him."
Surprise washed over me as I slowly turned to face the man known as Death's Stead by many who challenged him. Zeke smiled without looking from Einor who began pulling himself free from the spikes after an explosion of black flame sent the Ghoul soaring into the adjoined wall. Once free, Einor's wounds seemed to heal with the oozing black blood retreating back within his body. Einor changed into a spectre of himself before covering the remaining ground between him and the Ghoul. Grabbing the Ghoul's legs, Einor began slamming the undead into the surrounding rubble and stalactites before burying its head deep into the crater's wall.
I noticed Tartarus standing beside me with a hand resting on the hilt of the weapon counterpart Einor usually wielded. "This will drag out if nothing is done," he muttered looking at the distant battle, "both are Songs of Calamity forged with the Death God's strength."
"Aye," Elesar grew from the ground like the roots he controlled with the severed yet still blinking head of the Death Dragon, "however that Ghoul will more than likely win since its awakened far longer than Jackal."
"True," Tartarus calmly agreed, "but it seems there is only so much of that power the Ghoul can master. The possibility that those wishing to create a Song of Calamity weren't as skilled in their art than they thought is apparent. Such shortcomings usually become more visible with each passing day."
[(What are Songs of Calamity? Why do they seem so calm when speaking of the possible death of Einor?)]
I had about enough of the two conversions so nonchalantly when Einor was still fighting a possibly losing battle. However before I could say anything, Tartarus had a glimmer in his golden eyes as he stared at his counterpart attached at the hip. An idea seemed to have made itself known to the Infernal who didn't say anything as he observed the distance between us and the crater where Einor continued to faze through attacks hoping to gain some ground. It was then that I saw it, a faint violet serpent rising from his shoulder and slither down his arm disappearing within the hilt of the blade. Tartarus smiled when his eyes met mine and untied the sheathed blade so that it could be held.
"To be honest," he gave one glance at the shadowy table pinpointing Einor's location, "I never really used a sword during my time and don't plan to start now."
I watched the Infernal bring his hand with the blade back like one fixing to toss a spear would and his other limb forward to keep his balance steady. With one last glance at the image of Einor slammed deep within the ground, Tartarus tossed the blade high into the crimson sky as if the weapon was a feather in the breeze. I continued to follow the blade until I could not see it then turned to find Einor laying motionless with the Ghoul's back turned toward him. Any wounds hardly visible or large enough to not miss on the undead's body instantly disappeared just like the wounds Einor suffered earlier. It seemed that the Ghoul had enough playing around with Einor and began to climb the crater once more.
Numerous cracks instantly spread throughout the center point of the blade adding onto the already unstable ground. With pleading eyes, I watched as Einor slowly moved his head to gaze at the blade with dim orbs of blue and red flames. I didn't see much after that as a whistling sound caught my attention in time to see a bone spear piercing my chest just below the shoulder. Like an open blaze, pain spread throughout my body with the cold ground caressing my fall adding on the torment. Luckily, I was somewhat able to react in time to dodge out of the way, turning the placement from the center of my chest to where I was struck.
[(Father's first lecture on battle was always trust your senses and react accordingly. That may had prolonged my life just now.)]
Gritting my teeth, I felt hands gather under my arms and my body being dragged away from more bone arrows that swarmed like bees. Each one riddled the shadowy table where we observed each battle forcing the clear image of Einor to become disfigured. Large roots erupted from the ground around us and acted as a shield against the endless barrage with each painful tug. From the corner of my eye, I watched Orion shift into a dire wolf and charged forward along with Zeke and Scarlett just as the Ghoul broke through the roots. They were easily defeated by the Ghoul who towered over them with the Death Dragon's head in hand.
Silver threads wrapped around the Ghoul's arms binding them to its chest as the dragon's head turned into ash and mana absorbed. Within seconds, a large cocoon of silk held the Ghoul within it as Vilra sent a torrent of blazing venom from her maw while Erebus riddled where the Ghoul stood with balls of shadow. A pained roar erupted from the destruction changing into a fit of laughter with the cracking of the blazing cocoon and the undamaged limbs tearing free strands of silk. The Ghoul just laughed, sending green spores from his mouth which ignited when coming into contact with the open flames resulting in an explosion to occur freeing the Ghoul with little injury.
In quick succession, the Ghoul appeared before Vilra and drove a broken bone through her spidery abdomen. Her scream filled my ears as massive fangs could be seen from her reared up front legs. A scream that was cut short when the Ghoul grabbed each poisonous fang without concern and exhaled the green spores down Vilra's throat. In horror, I could only watch as the primordial's body began to convulse uncontrollably when the Ghoul easily tossed her to the side. Whatever the Ghoul breathed into Vila became far worse when she changed into her human form as blood began to pour from her eyes.
A sword made of bone rose from the Ghoul's outstretched palm as its eyes seemed to burn with delight at the unbelievable scene of a primordial weakened from the declined followers she once had at its mercy. The Ghoul placed the tip of the blade against Vilra's throat forcing her to restrain her convulsing body so that her jugular would not be slit. Even staring into the gateway of Death, I noted that Vilra didn't have an ounce of fear held within her eyes as if she was ready for the eternal slumber about to come. The Ghoul took her unyielding gaze as an invitation to continue her execution and raised the blade high into the air. As it fell, Vilra was surrounded in shadows and appeared beside me as the blade destroyed the flat piece of earth where she once was.
Turning to Erebus, I was surprised to find that his body was no longer a living shadow but held the appearance of Einor except for several differences. Shadowy wings grew from his back as he took a step forward, launching himself to intercept the Ghoul with a shadowy blade in each hand. A shockwave erupted from the two colliding forces sending gusts of air through my hair and making clouds of dirt rise. Erebus was on the offensive with a flurry of well timed strikes that broke through the Ghoul's guard which continued with each disappearance and reappearance. I could tell where Einor had learned such a tactic right away but such a way of fighting held a few places of weakness and pattern.
[(Wait...the wounds don't seem to be healing like they once did!)]
Narrowing my gaze, I focused on the several wounds too fresh to be from old battles and observed that my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. I continued my observation as a large gash was cut along the Ghoul's bare chest with faint blackened blood slowly descended down the abdomen. More and more wounds became apparent with each strike of the shadowy blades against stitched flesh. I didn't quite understand what was truly happening before me but it seemed that the Ghoul's weakness had been discovered. However with such an observation, there were several factors that could be responsible: the shadowy blades themselves could be the key yet that didn't seem to work when Einor fought the Ghoul, Erebus himself could be a factor since he is the only one to actually wound the Ghoul, and the last factor was that each blade was imbued with anima magic or magic that touches the very soul.
Pain once again erupted when Tartarus broke the part of the bone spear that pierced through my body making it easier to pull out for the both of us. I felt a slow nausea build within my chest from the pain but that had to wait until Breura was once again around us. The Ghoul was quick to change his focus on us as it inhaled lungs full of air before releasing a torrent of toxic spores in our direction. Placing a hand over my mouth and nose, the figure of Erebus appeared in front of us with the motionless bodies of the others in tow. I gritted my teeth crawling over to Scarlett and was relieved to see she was still breathing as shadows began to expand around us blocking the spores.
For a time, it seemed the barrier of shadow was holding against the spores but soon small cracks began to peek through the darkness as the spell was eaten away by the toxicity. Several spores made their way through the gaps and landed on Erebus who stood like a statuette despite the smoke rising from his shadowy form. Miasma was such a dangerous weapon that seemed to not only affect the two primordials but any spell it touches as well. Shielding us from a majority of the spores, Erebus started to feel the poison running throughout his body as his legs, or what passed for legs, began to buckle yet still he stood in position. Closing my eyes, I waited for the inevitable to bear fruit only to feel the aftershock of an explosion.
Opening my eyes, I watched as the barrier shattered and instantly replaced with grabbing roots as black flames danced around us. Another figure stood among the carnage brought on by the explosion as the wall of roots slowly descended back into the earth. For a second, the image of my father flashed before my eyes before changing to what was true. With the cursed blade in hand, Einor once again stood in the Ghoul's path but something seemed different than before. The aura around my brother was no longer the calm splotches of blood crimson but ran wild and the air became unnaturally hard to take in.
Clashing colors of violet and crimson danced to a sporadic tune taking on a shape of its own before our eyes. At first, the raging aura was nothing but a formless mass surrounding Einor but soon glowing eyes could be seen hovering just above him and became narrow yet large like that of the serpents from earlier. The body moved until the head was level with Einor and hissed at the Ghoul daring it to make a move. Without warning, the aura disappeared along with Einor who appeared in front of the Ghoul bringing down the gladius he held in an overhead slash. Black flames erupted where the blade touched and the ancient runes carved in the center glowed bright as the bone weapon used to block the attack broke into two pieces following the guttural pained scream.
For the first time, the Ghoul was the one to scream out in pain as fear became more noticeable in its hate filled eyes. The Ghoul retaliated with a crescent attack from the side only for it to faze through Einor's waist. Seeing this, the Ghoul struck out with the back of its right hand striking the air before being severed and cauterized with black flame. Einor disappeared just as the Ghoul tried to lash out with a vicious kick and reappeared with his body twisted so that the back of his heel landed across its gut. The Ghoul growled as it latched onto Einor's leg and tossed him away only for him to reappear with a overhead chop.
One strike after another found its target whether shattering weapons or cleaving makeshift shields in half in the process. Einor was like a hunting dog on the scent of a white hare or boar rummaging in a garden. Wherever the Ghoul tried to make distance between them, Einor was quickly in front of it with an attack ready. In one such pursuit, Einor rendered the Ghoul armless forcing it to use the poisonous miasma it harbored within as it ran hoping to find some escape. Bone spikes trailed behind Einor as he poofed in and out of existence like some phantasm searching for a soul to corrupt.
[(What is this malice I sense?)]
"It seems he's given into his rage," Tartarus muttered from beside me.
Before I could ask what he meant, the Ghoul appeared above us as a large orb of spores and bones began to form from his mouth. The spell grew bigger with each second before condensing on itself and forming a final torrent of shrapnel filled miasma. Elasar pushed through to stand in front of the group with his arms outstretched at his sides. Roots began to form another barrier while Erebus created a thinner barrier around us but each would not be fully formed to intercept the spell. It was then that Einor appeared outside the closing barriers with his shadowy limb reaching out to the last attempt of our demise.
With the closing space, I watched with wide eyes as the black serpent from before leapt from his hand and intercepted the spell. Numerous shockwaves shook the air as each spell collided hoping to overwhelm the other but only for a moment. With maw agaped, Einor's devouring serpent spiraled the length of the miasma and closed around the Ghoul in its entirety. I wasn't sure what happened next because the small peep hole finally closed just as the resulting aftershocks became more aggressive. Even within the doubled barrier, faint cracks could be seen forming along with the colliding sparks dancing among the shockwaves.
Silence filled the anxious space within the darkness of the barriers as the final aftershock faded away with the lights outside. Looking to one another, both Elasar and Erebus allowed their individual barrier fade away allowing the scene of destruction to be fully seen as a whole. Once living trees untouched by the battle were now standing relic of themselves with all life drained from their bark. Green grass was now nothing but speckled patches of dried remains easily kicked free from the dirt they dwelled in. Everything in the vicinity of us looked to have gone through the stages of life in a matter of seconds as the crimson sky turned to its natural sparkling obsidian.
Looking forward, I found Einor standing over the moving upper body of the Ghoul whose lower half was nowhere to be seen and replaced with a pool of black blood. I was relieved to find that he had returned to his original battle damaged form when we first found him. His left arm was still missing and the back of the torn VonKnight crest greeted us as we slowly made our way to him. The Ghoul tried to attack once more when it saw that we were unscathed but found its head cleaved from its shoulders in one precise strike. Tears of joy filled my eyes as we neared Einor but turned into tears of fear when he turned to greet us.
"Einor!" I yelled as his blade fell to the ground followed by his bone filled body as pools of blood mixed together.