A small bark could be heard on the streets as Bran strutted down the colliding lines of people. The sun was in the middle of the sky and various vendors could be seen haggling with the local populace.
In all honesty, it was just as Bran had remembered: A wondrous place filled with life and zeel. It was almost as if nothing was holding the townspeople back like they were free to do whatever they liked. Free from the troubles of a struggling society.
Bran let out a content sigh, all his troubles fading away. "This is what I missed. The smell of the fresh baked goods wafted through the air. The people's loud and friendly screams. I even missed Mr. and Mrs. Lizons' fighting." A scruffy, brown puppy barked up at him. "Yes, I also missed you."
Glee fullness taking over his eyes, Bran looked down at one of the most important things in his life: Ragnarok. Named after the event that would kill the gods, Ragnarok, better known as Rag, was one of Bran's greatest allies. He fought alongside the boy for more than 11 years, only falling after protecting his master from a fatal blow.
Small tears built up in Bran's eyes as he glanced down at his best friend, words not able to come out of his open mouth. Letting auto-pilot course through his body, he kept walking in a satisfied melancholy.
A loud, sharp cry broke out through an alleyway that abruptly broke Bran out of his trance. The words were unintelligible, yet Bran could hear the distress. Without a thought, the boy ran through the alleyway, twisting through all the turns, before finally reaching what looked to be a man pinning a woman against a brick building.
Without thinking twice, Bran rushed forward, grabbed the man by the caller, and threw him off of the woman. At the same time, seeing his master in action, Rag lept forwards, clamping down with an iron bite on the man's calf, and with an aggressive shake of the head, a stream of blood flew from the man's calf and onto the dog's face.
The man, writhing on the floor, shouted out in pain, causing the woman to jump back, looking up at Bran with shock and fear. "W-what did you do to my husband!?"
Bran, taken aback, raised an eyebrow. "Your husband? Isn't this man doing deplorable acts?"
The woman pushed past Bran to comfort her husband. "NO! How could you be so cruel to assault an innocent man!? You must pay for his hospital fees and the emotional damage you've done to us!"
Bran narrowed his eyes. "I can see the hospital bills, but why would I pay for emotional damages? Also, it doesn't seem like you're too worried about your husband."
The woman flinched back, turning to her husband. "W-what do you mean by that? I-I care very deeply about him!"
Bran took out a silver coin. "That should be just enough for your hospital bills."
She grabbed the coin with greedy eyes, almost smacking the man in the face. "But, wait! Uhh, the emotional baggage that we'll carry for the rest of our lives… You owe us 70 silver!"
Bran's eyes grew. "You're really asking for well over a yearly wage of half a gold, yet you're not even hurt all too bad."
The woman glanced at Bran with a glint in her eyes. "Oh, but we're so mentally damaged that I don't think we'll ever be able to work again."
Bran sighed and began to walk out of the alley. "The guards will be here in 5 minutes. Please, stop trying to scam innocent civilians."
The woman's eyes turned crazed as she grabbed onto Bran's arm. "Like you could call the guards! You aren't the head of the Astoric family."
Bran continued to walk out the damp alley, a few specks of sweat falling from his brow. "Why is it always so hot this time of year?"
Barking up at his master, Rag began to run ahead, getting swept into the large crowd. The sun beamed down, reducing visibility even more.
Sighing, Bran walked through the streets, eyes darting to the places eaten by the sun. "Why does Rag always have to go off on his own?"
The crowd pushing at his back, Bran attempted to swiftly swerve past the onlookers, only to be pushed back and forth by a wave of working-class people. It was as if they were wild beasts tearing at the necks of each other.
A loud, piercing Bark rushed past the various people. It bounced past the stone houses that adorned the roads and made several people flinch in fear.
Bran's eyes widened as any semblance of his facade fell from his face. The shadows seemed to almost swirl around his body darkening his demeanor. An uncaring vestige of demoniac hate spread through his face like a never-ending domino effect.
A few dark blue circles began to fade into existence in front of Bran. They held an ancient power that forced the town's people to their knees, and in complete silence, Bran took off with a push that cracked the ground. While the mana cracked the air, the world darkened, creating a deathly aura to the world around.
Air bursting through his hair, Bran pushed his body further, his heart worryingly calm. No words graced the environment as the boy jumped from the pristine buildings' walls, further sending the world around into darkness.
Pushing off a building one last time, Bran flipped through the air with a deadly zeal, a demonic aura flowing off him as he glanced at blood stains on the ground. The iron smell pierced his nose, making his head slightly woozy. Adding to this, Ragnarok's warm body whimpered heavily on the ground, his chest rising and falling with great difficulty.
A slightly familiar woman stood over Rag's struggling body, her eyes filled with delight. She kicked the dog's body making it skid over to Bran. "he, hehe. That's what that mutt gets, daring to bite my darling husband!"
Bran's eyes began to lose focus, his breathing hastened, and his once calm and stoic heart began to pound through his body, giving power to a rising hate. "You dare?" The simple sentence causes ripples through the air.
The woman's tongue slid across a small, jagged blade, loud cackling echoing through the boy's bones. "I dare what? Take revenge for your attempted murder? Yes, I do dare."
The previous demonic aura turned ancient as it morphed into one of a devil. "I tried. I tried to give you a chance to turn your life around, yet this is how you repay my kindness. I've tried to be kind and understanding, after all, I'm not as-" Bran almost teleported behind the woman as he squashed her to the ground. "-important as I once was, but you-"
The woman struggled on the ground, the pressure of Bran's foot cracking her ribs. "I-if you kill me- agh - your d-dog will die!"
Bran's dead eyes turned down toward her as he pushed his foot harder, snapping half the woman's ribs. "And who said that, you? The woman about to die like a worthless ant before me? No, you are nothing and will continue to be nothing until I kill you."
A knife came flying out of darkness as a man with a wounded calf stumbled out of the darkness. "Let 'er go, or I'll kill the dog!"
Bran watched as the man grabbed Rag by the scruff of the neck. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. The more you attempt to take what is mine, the worse your death will feel."
The man held the knife to the dog's head. "Oh, yeah? I'd like ta see you try!"
Bran sighed. "You know what? Keep struggling. I'll take great joy in making your death worse than that of burning, and you know what they say about being roasted alive: It's the worst pain imaginable."
The man began to laugh before his leg was cut straight to the bone. Falling to the ground, he dropped Rag, making the dog whimper once again. "AAAGGH! W-what are you?!"
Bran crept towards the man, towering over him like an executioner. "Me? Well, I am your end."
A large, wispy black greatsword materialized out of nothing, falling to the man's head. "W-Wa-!"
Bran watched in a dark glee as blood splattered on his face. "I hope that was painful enough. I do know that a cut from emorragia can render a dragon unconscious due to pain, so I only wonder what the whole deal would do."
The woman's breath spread as she clawed at the ground in a pitiful attempt to escape. Her ribs, dragging across the ground, caught on a large crevice, making her yelp in pain. That's when she felt it: a whisper at the back of her head that burst forth, surging with a stinging pain.
Bran moved at a snail's pace as his shoes clicked against the stone ground. The sound of the echoing alone causes ripples through the air. "Oh, you think you can run from me? Ha, you really are naive. Not only did I do my best to stop you from doing this," Bran sneered as his eyes glowed red. "I even gave you multiple chances to give up and stop, yet you take everything for granted because you are but a mere pest that attempts to gasp at the cracks of the strong."
The woman was blown backward, sent tumbling from the shockwave. Her, previously, broken ribs turned to mush as she skeeted on the rough, uneven ground. Blood sprayed from her mouth, nose, and ears as she lay there, almost lifeless.
Without a sound, Bran crept up to the woman and materialized a long sword. "When the demons claw at your soul, I can only hope you are devoured into non-existence."
No other words needing to be said, Bran plunged the sword into the woman's spine, severing it. All previous attempts to writhe on the ground ceased as her crimson blood pooled around her. Blood dripped from all orifices of her body, and her blood began to hemorrhage out of the open pores on her skin.
With Bran's anger lifting, melancholy sept into the abyss that was left behind. The boy's body fell to the ground as he pulled himself to Rag, grabbing the dog's body gently and holding it in a tight grip. His consciousness faded in and out, yet the only thing that kept him from descending into madness was the warm body, every second passing, the body chilling further.
With no thoughts running through his brain, Bran let the darkness take hold of his vision, not noticing the flash of the sun reflecting off blond hair nor the loud, deep shouts of a man. Bran's body relaxed, releasing the dog to the ground before everything stopped.