The female figure, named Marshy, paced through the capital of the kingdom, holding Kael on her back, thinking, 'I don't need another son figure. I'll train this brat to kill gods, he already has the tools for it, this is the only right way, right? His family was slaughtered by this wicked kingdom, and here I am taking him like he's my own. No, what I'm doing is right.'
As Marshy, with the fast asleep Kael draped across her back, traversed the chaotic expanse that bordered the Divine Tree's sanctified grove, the air was thick with dread and the acrid scent of distant smoke. Screams and the panicked thudding of feet created a jarring symphony with the whispering winds that tugged at the hem of her cloak, staining it with the blood that seeped from Kael's wounds. Earlier upheavals had left the area fraught with unrest, and upon recognizing Kael as who they think is their dead god Haelion, the people's panic intensified, fuelled by the murmured accusations that he, and by association, Marshy, had been the harbingers of death for their king and queen.
"There's smoke from the palace!"
"Did our Haelion revive?!"
"Has he already set judgment upon us?!"
"Everyone head to the palace!"
Nearby knights on horses said, "Everyone! Do not go anywhere near the palace! Stay the hell back!"
While navigating through this tumultuous human tide, an elderly man stepped forth from the crowd. His face, etched with the lines of numerous hardships and wisdom, wore an expression of profound gratitude rather than fear. He blocked their path momentarily, bowing slightly in deference.
Marshy said, "What the hell do you want?"
"Thank you," he said, his voice steady amidst the pandemonium, his ancient eyes meeting Marshy's. "You must understand, these lands, these people are bound by the essence of the Divine Tree. It is a conduit of divine power, mingling with the very air we breathe, the soil we till, and the water we drink. When harnessed, this sacred influence has the capability to summon manifestations — entities resembling gods — to arbitrate our gravest disputes, to solve our deepest dilemmas."
'He's thanking me…?'
Ignoring the chaos swirling around, he continued, looking at the bright orange Divine Tree in the distance, it seemed so close for how big it was and how high it reached to the sky, but it was way far out in the distance, its branches glowing with orange leaves, the roots underground spreading through the entire world. It was majestic.
The old man continued, "The Divine Tree's roots delve deep, intertwined not just with the land, but with the very existence of every kingdom and species influenced by its aura. Should you possess the courage to approach it, its revelation could be... enlightening, transformative even. I came here to find another place to call home since the kingdom of Grunsel conjured a god that the Dark Trio had to judge and end up killing. I watched this kingdom crumble and fall after the king and queen promised great things."
"The Dark Trio?! How long ago was this?!"
"A year ago. What's the matter?"
"Nothing."
His aged hands shimmered with a subtle luminescence, preparing to cast a stamina-replenishing spell to aid them on their perilous journey.
"Please be safe on your journeys. You've done this place a great service."
"Why are you helping us?"
"I can tell you're not a bad person."
"I am."
"Not from what I can see."
"I'm wearing a mask though."
"I can feel it. Though you may have done bad before, it doesn't make you who you are right now. You're saving this boy on your back."
"Hm. I could be using him for anything, ya know? Evil things."
"Haha, I doubt it."
However, before his magic could touch them, a horrifying figure ruptured the disarray with its presence.
KATHOOM!!!
The ground trembled as a centaur — an aberrant fusion of knight and beast — charged through the chaos. Its muscular torso, both equine and human parts, were colored in menacing shades of red and black, its fiery tail whipping through the air, scorching the earth. Spiked armor enveloped the knight's upper body, and massive black wings unfurled from his back, casting ominous shadows over the scared crowd. The black knight helmet adorned with large horns and the eerie black shadows lingering from his body only added to his terrifying visage. His large black shadow scepter was raised high, radiating malevolence.
With a bellowing war cry that split the air, the centaur swung its scepter, unleashing a devastating blast of shadow energy that cleaved the field and its occupants in a grotesque display of power. Blood and screams filled the air as bodies were tossed aside, life extinguished in an instant by the malevolent force.
"For the death of the king and queen! For the betrayal of our land!" he roared, his voice a turbulent storm of grief and fury. "Haelion! You have cast judgment on us! Deliver me the other combatant, come rule over us!"
Marshy said, "You see he's asleep. That's rude."
"Shut up, wench! That Haelion will rule over us forever! You are stealing him!"
"But you attacked him back at the field. And your people attacked him when he was clawing his way through your little palace."
"We all attacked you, and he got in the way, protecting you."
'He did..?' Marshy thought.
"The others attacked in the palace to see if he was really Haelion, and he is! And you're not going to take him from us!"
Healing forgotten, the old man recoiled a step back, his face drained of color as the centaur knight fixed its menacing gaze upon their small group. With a ground-shaking thunder, he charged towards them, the spiked armor gleaming menacingly under the dim light, battle cry echoing ominously as he prepared to strike. Marshy braced herself, adjusting Kael's unconscious form, and prepared to confront this new threat head-on. This encounter was not just a confrontation; it was a battle for survival, with the very essence of the Divine influence at stake.
Marshy positions Kael gently under a nearby twisted oak, ensuring he's safe and out of the immediate line of conflict. With a deep breath, she grips her Shadowrend sword tightly, the dark essence swirling around its blade like a sinister fog. Beside her, the old man's eyes flare with a grim determination as his hands spark with the bleak energy of his reverse healing magic.
'Stay there, brat. Each kingdom and race in this world is affected by the Divine Tree's power. And you're getting a taste of just 1% of it. It's way worse. And with the Dark Trio wandering around, the desperation for people to do wrong with the bleeding from the Divine Tree only heightens.'
The old man said to Marshy, "This one is powerful."
"You should sit this one out."
"I'm tired of running." The old man walked forward, stretching his arm and cracking his knuckles, surrounded by a green flaming aura as his eyes glowed the same color.
The centaur knight barrels forward, screaming "Die!!" The ground was shaking beneath his thundering hooves. Marshy waits until the last heartbeat before leaping up, a dark silhouette against the smoky sky. As she flies over the centaur, she spins, slashing downwards. The blade rips through the air, a terrifying dark streak, and scores a deep gash across the centaur's back. Blood sprays, painting the scorched earth below.
The Centaur yelled to Kael, "Bare witness, Haelion! See me destroy your kidnappers!"
Landing gracefully, Marshy doesn't pause. She spins, her cloak fluttering like a shadowy wing, and flings a burst of shadow energy from her sword. The centaur, enraged, counters with a swing of his scepter, blasting a shadow wave that neutralizes her attack. The energies clash, erupting into a dark maelstrom that sends ripples through the ground.
The Centaur said, "Shadow magic…that's amazing!"
"It sucks honestly."
The elder channels his magic, striking the ground with his staff, causing jagged spikes of reversed healing energy to surge up towards the centaur. The knight is quick, though, bounding sideways with a grunt, his hooves clattering against the stone. He retaliates with a fiery whip of his flaming tail, which Marshy narrowly dodges, the heat singeing her cloak. Seeing an opening, Marshy charges, blade poised. She ducks under a wild swing from the scepter and slices diagonally. The blade cuts through part of the armor and deep into the flesh. The centaur screams, a haunting sound that echoes off the ancient stones, his blood dark and steaming on the ground.
Rallying, the centaur spins, unleashing a barrage of spikes from his wings. Marshy somersaults backward, each movement precise. Spikes embed in the ground where she was just a moment ago. Mid-flip, she hurls a concentrated ball of shadow energy, striking the centaur in the chest, causing him to stagger back.
Taking advantage of the moment, the old man casts a vicious spell that amplifies the pain from the centaur's injuries, turning his own vitality against him. The centaur bellows, fury escalating, as he momentarily collapses under the assault of his own exacerbated wounds.
Enraged, the centaur rises, his eyes burning with a malevolent light. He charges, faster now, almost a blur, scepter arcing down in a deadly smash aimed straight at Marshy. She slides under the blow, feeling the whoosh of dark energy above her, and stabs upwards. Her sword hits home, piercing through the junction of torso and equine body, eliciting a roar of pain.
The centaur, wild with pain, kicks back viciously. Marshy catches the move and rolls aside, but the elder isn't as quick. He's thrown back by the powerful blow, crashing into a pile of rubble, his staff clattering away. With no time to lose, Marshy rebounds off a stone, catapulting herself onto the centaur's back. She drives her sword down repeatedly, each strike a blend of shadow magic and raw force, tearing through whatever armor and flesh it encounters. Blood, dark as the shadows that wreath her sword, splatters the battlefield.
The centaur tries to buck her off, thrashing wildly. Marshy holds on grimly, one hand gripping the beast's spiked armor, the other wielding her sword in a deadly dance. Each slash is punctuated by sprays of blood, each drop reflecting the fiery chaos of the battleground. Finally, Marshy leaps off as the centaur crashes into a nearby wall, the impact sounding like the crack of doom. She lands, pivots, and without missing a beat, hurls a shadow-spike straight at the centaur. It pierces his side, and he slumps, weakened from the loss.
The centaur, barely standing, invokes one final surge of shadow energy, sweeping the area with a destructive scream. Marshy uses her sword to draw a shield of shadows around her. The attack is devastating, obliterating everything in its wake but her. The centaur, gasping, tries to raise his scepter for another strike, but Marshy is faster. She sprints forward, a blur of vengeance, and with a mighty yell, she plunges her sword through the front of his chest plate, driving it deep, through heart and core.
As the centaur staggers, fatally wounded, his eyes meet Marshy's, filled with a mix of fury and respect. Marshy, breathing heavily, twists the blade. Shadow magic bursts from the wound, enveloping him in dark tendrils that sap the last of his life energy. He collapses, the earth rumbling beneath him, her sword penetrating his face.
In the aftermath, silence descends like a heavy cloak. The battlefield, torn and scorched, bears testimony to the savage conflict. Marshy pulls her sword from the centaur's body, the dark energy fading as it leaves the wound. She turns, her heart heavy, to find the elder man lying motionless among the wreckage.
The old man was bleeding from head to toe, smiling, "I didn't run this time.." A silent breath released from him, and he died.
Marshy watched him, thinking, 'Hm..'
The Divine Tree looms over them, its leaves whispering in the wind, a lament for the fallen and a solemn witness to the brutal cost of their victory. Marshy stands and sheathes her Shadowrend sword, the dark magic settling back into slumber within the blade. She walks back to where Kael is safely hidden, her steps steady but weary, ready to face what consequences the future might hold after such a devastating encounter.
As the life slowly drains from the centaur knight, his massive form, broken and bleeding, drags itself toward the gargantuan silhouette of the Divine Tree. Though it towers far in the distance, its immense canopy seems almost within reach, a testament to its sacred immensity.
"I…I won't lose yet! Someone has to beat her! Yeah, yeah I'll conjure another god! My desire is a reaper! Revenge! Someone has to defeat her as the great one Haelion is asleep!"
As he crawled, Marshy followed slowly, walking beside him, dragging her sword in the grass.
With each painful, laborious movement, the centaur speaks, his voice a hoarse whisper that carries an unexpected clarity. "In this world…," he breathes, the blood frothing at his lips, "ambitions are not merely thoughts but seeds... seeds that, when nurtured by the essence of the Divine Tree, can bloom into gods."
He coughs, splattering the dark earth with his blood, each drop a reminder of his looming demise. "We've seen it in the Histarians of the north, ancient beings of wisdom who become one with the tree's roots. Or the ethereal Faeyrin, whose aerial dances around the canopy summon rain and thunder," he continues, his hand clawing the soil as if to find something to grip, something to hold onto in this final confession.
Dragging himself inch by laborious inch, he comes to rest, his imposing body framing a tragic picture of desperation and defeat. "And Haelion," he says, the name a prayer, a curse, "our created deity, forged from our collective wills and fears. The kingdom's embodiment of strength and protection. I believed... I believed this was his will. That through strife, we would grow, become worthy..."
Tears mix with the blood on his cheeks, the mighty creature on his knees now, his shoulders heaving with the weight of his confession. "I thought Haelion willed us to battle, to test our mettle, to forge our spirits in the fires of conflict..."
As he lifts his head, eyes closing, surrendering to his fate, there is a silent shift in the air. In the blink of an eye, Kael appears before him. The centaur's eyes snap open, meeting Kael's unyielding gaze. Then, with a swift, brutal motion, Kael grabs the centaur's head. There's a tensing, a terrible moment of resistance, and then a gruesome tearing sound as Kael wrenches the head from the body. Blood gushes in a horrific burst, splattering both the destroyer and the earth around in a vivid crimson.
Marshy said, "Brat.."
The body slumps, an empty vessel now, as Kael stands, head in hand, his expression unreadable. The power of the moment is palpable, a brutal testament to the finality of conflict, the harsh reality of beliefs turned into bloodshed.
The shadow of the Divine Tree stretches long and somber over the scene, its leaves whispering secrets of life and death, of gods made not just to heal or to harbor but to haunt the histories of those who dare to dream too fiercely. In this land, where gods and ambitions intertwine, the consequences of great dreams bear a weight as substantial as the lifeblood that now feeds the ancient soil.
Kael pointed at the Divine Tree, saying, "There."
"There?"
"I wanna go there."
"Not yet."
"Tch. As long as we go."
Kael grabbed Marshy's hand, as he was already looking drowsy, saying, "As long as we go."
Marshy just looked at him, and she took off her mask. She had shoulder length curly black hair, an eyepatch on her left eye, with her right eye showing her dark blue eyes.
She chuckled, "As long as we go, huh? You don't mind killing gods and bad people on the way?"
"..No. Don't care.." Kael said in a tired tone.