I struggled for a minute. But then regained my composure and had full control of myself.
The amount of power I felt was incredible, I felt like I could do anything, but at the same time, I felt like I was burning from the inside out. I wondered if this was how Silky had felt.
Lato was still smiling, but he wasn't laughing anymore. "Or maybe I was wrong."
"Is that what this is power is called?"
"Indeed; the Flower of Death, named after the only bloodline that inherited it. The Delamorts," Lato said. "And now that line is extinct at last. You are all that remains of that power, but I'd wager you cannot pass it on. Not that I'll give you the time to pass it on."
"I don't need to pass it on. In fact, I would rather not," I admitted. "The power I feel now is incredible, but the pain it comes with is equal in measure."
"You are managing to stay remarkably calm if that is the case," he addressed.
"Pain has become one of the many things I tolerate better than most."
"Indeed," he said with a smirk.
"I would like to test this power," I said.
"How polite of you to announce it," he commended.
I lifted my arm like I was calling something upwards, and in fact something did shoot up from the ground around Lato.
The earth itself had formed large spikes and thrust themselves at Lato. He leapt away. As he landed, I fired a blast of the black energy that was emanating from me. He sidestepped, and then vanished, reappearing behind me. I melted his blade as it came into contact with my skin. His eyes widened and I grabbed him by the throat.
"Well, this is surprising," he managed, his voice rising a few octaves from the constricted airway.
I tightened my grip, but he teleported away.
"Due to this unfortunate turn of events, I will have to leave you now, Traveler."
The air around him rippled, but just before he vanished, I reached out my hand in a grasping motion and he froze.
"I'm stronger than you now," I said.
"Maybe," he said with a growl. "But that doesn't mean you have a surefire victory."
The air around him folded severing my connection and he warped away.
Experience definitely plays a large part in a battle. I noticed that now.
The aura faded and the pain subsided. I looked at my hands and noticed that they had begun to turn gray, and cracks ran across them. The cracks were already healing and the color returning to my skin.
I turned to see Silky disappearing. She faded slowly until she was gone. She was a spirit after all.
"She your friend?" A new voice asked.
Actually, the voice wasn't new. I just hadn't heard it in a long time.
I looked to my right and saw a young man with dark blonde hair and brown eyes standing there. He was maybe twenty-two his skin tan, and a silver streak running through his hair, there were silver slivers in his irises too. There was a small group of marks just behind his left ear that I couldn't see very well. His clothing was that of a ruler, casual but regal. A white jacket with white slacks and a white shoulder cape lined with black fur. Around his wrist was something that seemed a little out of place: a ponytail holder. It was maroon ruffled. It looked like there were still some hairs in it but the color was wrong. No one had pink hair.
"You," I said, a mixture of confusion, awe, and relief.
He smiled kindly at me the same way he had that night I took my calling.
"It's been a while, my friend."
I cried. I didn't really understand why. If anyone had asked me who my best friend was before that, I would've told them Rust, but meeting this guy for the second time changed my mind. I didn't even know his name. We had only spoken once. He had taught me to fight, to survive, to use my power for good. I suppose in many ways, young though he was, he was like a second father to me. Even though we had shared maybe two sentences total.
He patted me on my head, just like I had done to Silky.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"'Someone you have not met yet, but someone you will meet in the future,'" he repeated his line from that night. "I believe that is what I said to you a year ago."
I nodded.
"My name is Corbin Tyler," he said. "I am the Chosen from a time in the future."
"How did you get here if you're from the future?" I asked. Even by Rift standards, time travel is difficult if not impossible to achieve.
"When you ascend to the heights of human authority, knowledge of ages long since passed becomes available to you, and concepts like time become clear rather than the muddled mess they are today. This allows one to traverse time as though it were the same as space."
What he was saying didn't make a whole lot of sense and was slightly cryptic, but I rolled with it.
"That's beside the point though," he said to me. "I came here because I heard you had lost control, but you seem to be in your right mind. I don't sense anyone of any significant power around either."
"Are you going to leave?" I asked.
"This is not my time," he told me. "When it is, you will know. Shoot, the whole Rift will know. I cannot help you, but I have alerted those who can."
"Who?"
"The Seven Saints will aid you, but only should they deem it absolutely necessary. The Augur in particular is adamant that if people can settle their own problems, they should. The Priest on the other hand has offered his immediate aid, whether the Saint allows him or not is another matter."
"Stop," I said. He was firing off all these names I didn't know, and I was lost.
"Oh," was his response. "You will find out soon enough. I can tell you right now, though-"
"Corbin," I warned.
"Don't worry, I won't overload you," he conceded. "But if you hear that the Knight has gotten involved, then you and your men must back down until he has done as he is commanded."
"Who is the Knight?"
Corbin thought for a moment and then shrugged. "The Knight stands at the pinnacle of power in the Rift, there is perhaps, one - maybe - who can match him. However, that is irrelevant. His power is what yours is tenfold. Reality itself bends to his will, time is irrelevant to him, ethereal attacks are mute against him, physical strikes do not harm him. He is the bearer of the Aspects of Hell. An armor made from Hell itself. Eternally smoldering and smoking from within. Perhaps his most powerful thing in his possession is in fact the power to negate all others. It is imbued into his sword, Hellsing, but he may also use it freely. He is under oath to not fight unless acting in self-defense or ordered to do so by God Himself. He is the most dangerous person you may ever encounter."
"That's the Knight?" I muttered to myself.
"He is called Saint Ignis, the Knight of Ashes and Cinders."
"Why doesn't God have him just exterminate all the evil in the Rift?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"If there was no evil, there would be no challenge for humanity to face. And if there is no challenge for humanity to face, then humanity continues to live a lie. Telling themselves and others that they are good people, but when there is a challenge, they become stressed, and stress reveals who one is truly," Corbin explained.
"Is that really why?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I have no idea," he admitted. "I just thought it sounded cool. But it does have some truth to it. Who knows why God doesn't do that? But even Ignis can't be everywhere at once. Even he hasn't explored every corner of the Rift. It's not possible. I think God lets us handle what we can handle, and what we can't handle, or what is offensive to Him directly, He sends in Ignis for."
"Who are the other Saints?" I asked.
"You don't need to know that right now," Corbin said, though it didn't really feel like he was talking just to me. He cast a sly glance past me into the air. Almost like he was piercing the mind of someone who wasn't really there.
"The only one you need to know I guess would be Saint Orion, the Saint of Broken Blades," he told me. "He's powerful. Leader of the Holy Order of Golden Knights too. He has some influence. Terminus knows him personally." His voice changed a little when he mentioned Terminus. Almost like he didn't like him.
"Do you not like Terminus?" I asked.
"I don't entirely trust the man, no," he admitted. "He pulls the strings like no one I've ever seen, but I can't help but feel like he's got something to gain from all of this himself, like maybe he isn't as much of a 'King of Heroes' as he wants everyone to believe."
I didn't answer.
"Surprising," Lato's voice came from behind us.
Corbin rolled his eyes. "This is why I can't stick around," he muttered.
I turned and saw Lato emerging from the bushes. "Who might you be, newcomer?"
"Name's Candice," Corbin answered with a smirk.
"Very funny," Lato said. "But I'm serious."
"No, dude, my name is Candice. I'm related to Joe," Corbin defended himself.
"Who's Joe?" Lato asked, genuinely confused.
Corbin smiled. "Joe ma-"
"Corbin," I said.
He cleared his throat. "In all seriousness, my name is of no importance."
Lato was irritated. I would be too. This guy had managed to fool him despite Lato being able to plan years in advance.
He drew his sword. "Well, you have worn my patience rather quickly, I'm impressed."
Corbin didn't react. "I've beaten you before, pal," Corbin said.
I looked at him, surprised. As did Lato.
"I don't recall ever meeting someone like you," Lato said with a shake of his head. But I could tell he was now bothered. "Though, I must admit, ever since your appearance, there has been a strange unease in my stomach. I will ask again, who are you?"
"My name is Corbin Tyler."
Lato was unfazed by the name, though I wasn't surprised.
Corbin summoned a strange scythe in his right hand and a white sword in his left. The scythe had three blades, each one sharp as a razor, each smaller than the one above it. The sword didn't seem to be particularly special.
Lato's eyes widened when he saw the weapons. "Where did you get those?"
Corbin didn't answer the question, but rather said, "I guess I can have a little fun."
Corbin vanished, small craters appearing in the ground where his feet had been, and a gust of wind, moving the leaves.
Lato held still and closed his eyes. That wasn't going to help. Sound traveled slower than light, and I wasn't picking up on Corbin's presence either. Well actually, I was, but it was everywhere. That meant that Corbin was moving at least faster than 1/24th of a second if not faster and was moving all over the place.
I wasn't sure where he was and then, all of the sudden, he was there, behind Lato, bringing his scythe down across his back. Lato grunted and then whirled around with a slash. But Corbin wasn't there. He appeared behind Lato again, this time, his scythe was gone, and there was only his sword. He slashed across Lato's back again. This time, it wasn't a groan, it was a scream.
He fell to his knees and just before Corbin could lop off his head, he vanished with hatred in his eyes.
"Too bad."
Corbin started to fade. "Oh, guess I'm out of time." He looked at me. "That wound will not heal."
"What?"
"The wound I just gave him: it will not heal."
"Why?"
He held up his sword. "Do you recall Interitus?"
I nodded.
"Well, in the same way that that is a Sacred Armament, so is this. This is possibly the most sacred of Sacred Armaments. Its name is Animus the Pure, but you probably know it as the Sword of the Spirit. Its specialty is attacking and wounding not just the physical body, but also the soul. And on top of that, any wound it creates will never heal. Only two things are capable of negating the effect: anyone who can manipulate time, and the Knight's Hellflare."
There was a loud pop like a gun almost, and Corbin looked up. "Ah, speak of the devil," he muttered. "I must leave you here, Nierix," he said. "I have already interfered too much."
I nodded. He nodded in return, and then he was gone.
As soon as he vanished there was a rustle in the bushes, and then a knight emerged. A knight whose armor was cracked and burnt. Charred in fact. From within the cracks, a glow like the dying embers of a flame was seen, and small wisps of smoke escaped. On his hip, was a black sword made of what looked to be scales. The blade was slightly twisted in the middle like a corkscrew. He turned his attention to me. I knew who it was.
The Knight of Ashes and Cinders: Saint Ignis.