Blood stained the forest floor as Elysian limped away, his heart pounding. He had to reach the Mystical Trees for sanctuary, but he couldn't allow Irene to follow him there. The trees were the source of magic, the lifeblood of nature itself, and if Irene found them, they would all perish. His mind raced, battling the growing pain in his chest and the overwhelming exhaustion threatening to consume him.
"I can't lead her there. I can't..."
Behind him, Irene's voice echoed in the darkness, haunting and mocking. Her footsteps were slow, deliberate, each one sending chills down his spine.
"Elysian!" she called out, her voice drenched with malice. "What did Azriel see in you? What could he possibly want with someone so frail, so weak? You are nothing, Elysian! Nothing but a tool, a mortal who doesn't deserve a god's love!"
Elysian stumbled over a root, barely catching himself on a nearby tree. The dark forest pressed in around him, suffocating and cold. Irene's words pierced his heart, not just because they were cruel, but because part of him feared they were true. How could someone like Azriel, so strong and beautiful, have truly chosen him?
But he couldn't focus on that now. His priority was survival. He tried to run, his breaths ragged, but the wound from Irene's attack weakened him further with every step.
Suddenly, Irene's footsteps stopped, and Elysian turned to see her gazing at something in the distance. A family—humans, unaware of the danger—were making their way toward the forest, preparing for some kind of festival. They wore bright clothes, laughing and speaking joyfully, unaware of the terror stalking them.
"No..." Elysian whispered, panic rising in his throat.
With a malevolent smile, Irene stepped out from the shadows and appeared before them. The family's laughter turned to screams as they realized the danger. The children tried to run, but it was too late. Irene's hands flared with dark energy, and she unleashed a wave of destruction. The forest air was filled with their terrified cries as they fled.
Elysian's heart erupted with rage. He couldn't let her continue this. Despite his weakened state, he called upon the power of the Torch inside him, summoning a beam of brilliant light. With a roar of fury, he released the energy, sending a massive shockwave toward Irene.
The beam struck her, throwing her back with such force that she crashed into a stone monument and collapsed, unconscious. The air around them crackled with the intensity of Elysian's power, and for a brief moment, everything was still.
Panting, Elysian stood tall, his body trembling from the effort. His focus shifted to the family, who were now frozen in fear. "Go!" he shouted, his voice thick with urgency. With the last of his strength, he created a portal, a shimmering doorway that would lead them away from the forest to safety. The family hesitated, but then rushed through it, disappearing from sight.
Elysian barely had time to catch his breath before he felt a sharp, excruciating pain in his chest. He looked down, and his blood froze. Irene had regained consciousness and, with her twisted grin, plunged a dagger deep into his heart. The blade, gleaming in the dim light, was made from a deadly flower—Blue Ivy.
"No..." Elysian gasped, the agony unbearable. The light from the Torch within him began to flicker, and his vision blurred.
Irene smirked, beginning to chant in Latin, her voice filled with dark triumph:
"Lux est exstincta, Fluctus vita tuae. Ego te conficiam, Vi tua..."
The light from the Torch began to rise from Elysian's chest, its radiant glow slowly seeping out as Irene's spell drained it from him. Elysian's breath came in short, ragged gasps, his body growing colder with each passing moment.
But then, out of nowhere, Azriel appeared, his presence a whirlwind of power and fury.
Azriel's eyes flared with anger, his voice a powerful incantation that filled the air:
"Spiritus antiqui, Praesidium da nobis. Hostes dimitte, Nox evanesce."
A dark beam of ancient magic, black as night, shot from his hands and enveloped Irene, who screamed in fury as the spell consumed her. She fell to the ground, writhing in pain as the magic restrained her.
Azriel knelt beside Elysian, tears streaming down his face. "Elysian... I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."
Elysian's once-vibrant midnight blue eyes were dull, tears leaking from the corners. His voice was barely a whisper. "Azriel... I..."
Azriel clutched Elysian's hand, his heart breaking. "No, don't speak. I won't let you die."
Azriel's voice trembled with rage as he glared at Irene, who struggled to regain control. "You deceived me. You twisted everything we had."
Irene, her face streaked with tears, laughed bitterly. "Deceived you? I loved you, Azriel! I adored you! Even when I knew you had a lover, I forgave you because I thought you truly loved me in return. But you used me. You never cared about me... you only wanted the Torch to save him."
Her voice cracked as she cried out in anguish. "You abandoned me! I waited for you, Azriel, waited for the day you would come back. But instead, you stole the Torch and ran away. You deceived me just like the gods deceived me, just like my father—Zeus—always treated me as nothing."
Azriel's gaze softened for a moment, but it quickly hardened again. "Irene... this isn't about the past anymore. This is about what you've done, the lives you've destroyed."
Irene's face twisted in fury once more. "Lives I've destroyed? You want to talk about destruction? I'll start with him," she spat, pointing to Elysian. "I'll burn him alive and send you his ashes!"
Azriel's entire being shook with fury. "No. You won't touch him again."
The air around them thickened with energy as Azriel began to chant, calling on the power he had gained from the dead witches. His voice echoed with ancient magic:
"Lux et nox, Umbra vincit, Vi mortuorum ego invoco. Nomen tuum deleatur, potentia tua exstinguatur!"
A beam of black light shot from Azriel's hands, powerful and all-consuming. It struck Irene, and she screamed in agony as her powers were stripped from her. Her body flickered as if it were made of smoke, her form disintegrating into a million particles of dust.
Azriel stood tall, his eyes cold. "I am not the Azriel you once knew. I am the last descendant of the dead witches, and I will not let you destroy him."
Irene's final scream echoed through the forest as her body dissolved into the air. Silence followed, broken only by the faint, labored breaths of Elysian.
Azriel's fury dissipated, replaced by deep concern. He rushed to Elysian's side and scooped him up in his arms, cradling him gently. Elysian looked up weakly, his voice faint.
"Did... did you really... love her?" Elysian's tears shimmered, his heart aching with the question that had haunted him for so long.
Azriel's throat tightened. "Elysian... I—"
But before he could finish, Elysian's tears fell, silent but heart-wrenching. "I just wanted to know..."
Azriel wiped away Elysian's tears, his voice filled with raw emotion. "No more questions. You're my soul, Elysian. We are bound together, even in death. Nothing can separate us."
He leaned down and kissed Elysian's trembling lips, sealing his promise with a tenderness that made the world around them fade. "I won't lose you," Azriel whispered, holding him close.
With determination, Azriel carried Elysian toward the Mystical Forest, their path lit by the faint glow of hope.