The Awakening of Chaos — III
The battlefield roared with chaos, a symphony of destruction that mirrored the turmoil within each soul present. On one side, Poll stood amidst a storm of power and rage, his awakening a beacon of incomprehensible knowledge and devastating potential. Across the field, Tiara, the Queen of Darkness, loomed as an ominous force, her chaotic aura fully unleashed. The oppressive energy suffocated the air, casting an unnatural shadow over the land.
Nyra's body had disintegrated moments ago, her once-formidable presence reduced to particles. Fragments of her hand and face lingered in the air like ghostly remnants, a haunting testament to her defeat. Her regenerative powers, once thought invincible, had utterly failed under Poll's assault. He had done the unthinkable—broken the very laws of magic.
Eryndor stood paralyzed in despair, rooted to the spot. Just minutes ago, his wife's lifeless body had been cradled in his arms, and now his son—his beacon of hope—was succumbing to the darkness of his newfound power. The weight of helplessness bore down on him, his mind blank, unable to think of what to do or even where to begin.
Across the battlefield, Eric struggled against Tiara. Her aura, unleashed in its full glory, forced him back, overwhelming his every attempt to retaliate. Her movements were precise, deadly, and with a single punch, she sent Eric flying. His body crashed into the debris far from their confrontation, leaving him temporarily incapacitated.
In the distance, Celestia, Elowen, and Liana watched the chaos unfold. Their bodies trembled, their wills fraying under the oppressive weight of Tiara's aura.
Celestia's thoughts raced, her fear intertwining with guilt. "We've failed. We couldn't even stand against her. What are we even doing here?"
Elowen's hands shook as she clutched her staff, her knuckles white.
Liana's gaze shifted between Poll and Tiara, her heart torn. "He's just a boy. But he's not... not anymore. What are we witnessing? What is Poll becoming?"
Luna Shad, observing from a distance, broke the silence among the trio, her voice cold and analytical. "She really is as powerful as the reports claimed… if not more."
Poll disappeared again, his form vanishing from sight only to reappear directly before Tiara. His eyes, glowing with an unearthly light, locked onto hers. His voice was calm, almost emotionless, yet it carried a weight that shook the ground beneath their feet.
"Now, it's your turn," he said.
Tiara's lips curled into a smile, her expression both amused and condescending. "You're clever, boy," she said, her voice smooth but laced with venom. "But you're still just a child."
In a blur, her fist connected with Poll's stomach. The force of the blow sent blood spilling from his mouth as he gasped in pain. Tiara's strength was overwhelming, each movement calculated and precise, a testament to her thousand years of experience. She grabbed him midair and hurled him like a broken doll, his body tumbling through the air before crashing to the ground.
"You possess knowledge, yes," Tiara continued, stepping closer to Poll, her tone mockingly kind. "Knowledge beyond anything in this world. But knowledge without strength is meaningless. You're bound by that fragile human shell—a mortal child playing god."
Eryndor's breath caught in his throat as he watched his son's broken form. His heart screamed to act, but his mind raced in chaos, unable to formulate a plan. Then, a flicker of resolve returned to his eyes. He whispered under his breath, his voice trembling with both desperation and determination.
"Awaken, Agroth, the Flame Beast."
A surge of energy rippled through the air as Eryndor invoked the spell. His form blurred, his movements now a blur of speed and precision. A massive, arcane flame erupted from his hands, roaring to life as he hurled it toward Tiara. At the same time, he moved to catch Poll mid-fall, shielding his son from further harm.
Poll stirred weakly in his father's arms, his voice barely a whisper. "Father…?"
Before Eryndor could respond, Poll's body went limp, his strength entirely spent.
Tiara defended herself against Eryndor's attack, her expression momentarily faltering as the flames collided with her aura. She emerged unscathed but visibly intrigued. "What...?" she murmured, her gaze narrowing at Eryndor.
Vekris, one of Tiara's loyal followers, knelt beside her. "My lady," he said, his voice urgent. "What should we do? That boy is a clear threat to us. If we kill him now, we can prevent him from becoming stronger. And what about this man, Eryndor? Should I kill him? He is the protector of that boy, and I am certain he will become a thorn in your path."
Tiara's eyes flicked to Poll's unconscious form, then back to Vekris. Her expression softened—not out of mercy, but calculation. "No. Don't even try. You are no match for him."
Vekris's expression darkened, anger flashing across his face. "But my lady, I did fight with him before. He alone is no match for me—"
Tiara's expression hardened, her eyes blazing with intensity as her voice rose in anger. "Don't even think about arguing with me!"
Vekris bit back his frustration, bowing his head. "As you command, my lady."
Tiara's gaze turned to Eryndor. Her voice dropped, contemplative and laced with suspicion. "That man… those eyes. I've seen them before. Eyes filled not just with hatred but despair. Those movements... familiar. Who are you? And why do you hide your identity, even when I killed your precious one?"
Eryndor's eyes darkened further, his expression unreadable. He said nothing, his silence a defiant answer in itself.
Tiara's lips curved into a thin, dangerous smile. "Take Nyra's remnants. We're leaving. If I fight him now, he'll force me to reveal my awakened form, and that would be... inconvenient. But I've seen enough. He is him—the Dragon Slayer."
Her gaze returned to Poll one last time, her voice calm but carrying an edge of menace. "I will come for you, Poll Nightvale. Grow strong. Show me the full extent of your knowledge. And when you do, I will show you the truth of this world."
With that, she turned and ascended into the sky, her figure vanishing into the horizon.