Two figures stood battered and bloodied in the lonesome throne room, their breaths ragged and shallow.
Scratching and pounding reverberated through the room. It came from behind the two big golden doors, each impact rattling the air like a death knell. Both warriors stood motionless, exhaustion etched into every line of their faces.
The siege had gone horribly—just as they'd predicted.
The third wall did last them a while, buying them time to whittle down the horde. Half of the monsters had been eliminated in the struggle, but that didn't mean anything.
The moment the true horrors arrived—the monsters, devils and even demons—the fortress had crumbled. Walls fell, the defenders scattered, and chaos consumed everything.
Aria stared at the trembling golden doors with a grim expression, her knuckles white as she clenched her fists. Finally, she turned to the bloodied figure beside her, "How long do you think those doors will last?"
Blake, equally battered but still managing a lopsided grin, glanced at the doors. "A minute. Maybe less."
They were the last two left—at least as far as they knew. The retreat had been a desperate, chaotic mess. Somewhere in the madness, they had been separated from the others, forced back into the castle and into this gilded tomb. Now, the golden doors of the throne room were all that stood between them and death.
Aria exhaled heavily. "How long do you think it's been?"
Blake smirked, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "About fifteen minutes I'd say. Should blow any second now, right?
"Yeah, that's what I thought... Ten minutes ago!," Aria muttered, her eyes narrowing. "You sure he wasn't just bluffing?"
Blake laughed "I hope not."
Aria thought about Reese, Tarin and Lyra. They had to be dead by now. She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, the guilt gnawing at her chest like a ravenous beast. She left them to die out there in the bitter cold.
'I didn't have a choice. What could I even do?' Her eyes wandered over the door before another sigh escaped her lips.
'I'm sorry alright. I'm not dying here, well i am... but not to some nightmare creature. You can curse me all you want. Well maybe-'
Her bitter reflection was shattered by a deafening crack. The sound froze her in place, her breath catching as a massive antler pierced straight through the golden door, slicing through twenty inches of solid metal like paper.
Her heart seized.
The door wrenched free from its hinges, hurtling across the room with a resounding crash. From the darkness beyond, it emerged—a grotesque deer-like lion with enormous antlers. Blood dripped from its fanged maw, and its hooves left deep grooves in the stone floor as it advanced.
Aria's stomach dropped... 'Wendralith.'
The Harrowing Deer, now stood before her. Its monstrous presence overwhelmed the room, its bloodied eyes locking onto her like a predator savoring its prey.
Her legs buckled, trembling under the weight of a primal, suffocating dread that gripped her whole body. She stood frozen, as if the air itself had turned to stone around her.
The beast lunged, a blur of muscle and malice, moving with an unnatural speed. Time stretched painfully, every moment dragging like an eternity.
'Move!' her mind screamed, a desperate, pleading cry.
'Fucking move!'
But her body refused to obey, locked in the vise of terror. Her wide eyes flickered, the fight draining from them as a crushing truth dawned on her.
This was fear—raw, unrelenting fear. For the first time, Aria was truly, utterly scared.
A voice shouted at her, distant but desperate.
"Beth! BETH!"
She could barely turn her head towards Blake before the beast's hoof connected. The force was catastrophic, a shiver ran through her body as her ribs shattered and she was send flying across the room, crashing into the far wall with a sickening thud. The impact so heavy that the stone cracked, leaving a small crater.
There was no time to process the pain. Everything just turned dark.
-------
Blake's hand trembled, frozen mid-reach toward where Aria had stood. Now, a massive, blood-soaked hoof planted itself in her place. His heart sank, a hollow weight dragging it down as his fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.
That wasn't something humans could fight.
That was death.
A bitter laugh escaped him, shaky and hollow.
He straightened himself, his body stiff with tension. Composure? No, he wasn't composed. He was anything but. Beneath the surface, a wildfire roared to life, surging through him with a ferocity he'd never known.
It wasn't grief. It wasn't despair. It was anger, unrelenting anger that burned like a furnace in his chest, screaming for vengeance.
Beth.
He hadn't known her long, just a few fleeting weeks, but in that short time, they had clicked. They had trained together every day, laughed together, shared stories, and in her, he saw a spark unlike anyone else.
She wasn't a swordsman, not like him. No, Beth couldn't handle a blade to save her life—quite literally. But what she lacked in weapons, she more than made up for with her fists. She was a genius of hand-to-hand combat, picking it up with a speed that left even the everyone of their group in awe. In two weeks, she had gone from floundering to unstoppable. No one—not Reese, Tarin, Lyra, Garran, or even him—could best her in close quarters. Toward the end, even armed, he had struggled to keep up.
She was brilliant. She was unstoppable. She was beautiful.
Beth wasn't just a companion, not just a student. She had become more—a partner, a kindred soul, maybe even something deeper.
There was a simple truth in his mind, you don't touch his companion, his student, his Beth. Not in front of him.
A storm surged in his eyes, his grip on his sword tightening until his knuckles turned bone-white. His head dipped low, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk, teetering on the edge of madness.
If anyone had seen him at that moment, they might've called him insane. Maybe they'd be right. No one who fought monsters for a living walked away normal.
But psychotic or not, Blake wasn't reckless. Charging Wendralith head-on would be suicide, and he knew it.
Extending his hand forward, he signalled the beast.
"Come at me you bastard."
Wendralith's antlered head turned toward him, its glowing, predatory eyes narrowing as it sized him up. With a guttural snarl, it lunged, moving faster than something so massive had any right to.
Blake dropped low, diving to the side in a desperate roll. A hoof the size of his chest grazed his shoulder, tearing a chunk of flesh clean off. Pain shot through him, hot and searing, but he clenched his jaw and kept moving, bolting for the nearest cover, one of the side pillars that supported the castle, throwing himself behind it.
BAM!
The impact was deafening. The pillar exploded into a shower of stone and dust, Wendralith had reduced it to rubble with a single strike. The force sent Blake skidding across the floor, but he managed to land on his feet, his instincts screaming at him to run.
Another pillar loomed ahead, and he sprinted for it, his breath ragged. Wendralith let out a monstrous roar, shaking the air around him as it pivoted to charge again.
Suddenly, a chill ran down Blake's spine. His body moved on its own, diving sharply to the left just as another BAM! rang out. Wendralith slammed into the next pillar, obliterating it before Blake even reached it.
He hit the ground in a roll, scrambling back to his feet. There was no time to think, no chance to hesitate. His every move felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of spikes, the beast's speed and power forcing him to react with precision or die.
Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring Wendralith's massive frame as it tore through the room. For a moment, Blake disappeared into the haze, his heart pounding in his ears as he used the chaos to his advantage.
This was no fight—it was a deadly game of hide-and-seek, a brutal dance where one wrong step would mean the end.
His muscles screamed in protest, his lungs burned with every breath, but he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
The only thing in his favor was the chaos Wendralith itself had created, the rising clouds of rubble and dust giving him fleeting moments of cover.
Blake darted to the next pillar, his breaths short and sharp, each one scraping his throat raw. Wendralith's monstrous form stalked through the haze, its glowing eyes slicing through the dust like twin blades.
CRACK!
The pillar to his right exploded into chunks of stone, one fragment clipping his leg and nearly sending him to the ground. He staggered, biting back a curse as he lunged for another column.
"Just a little longer," he muttered under his breath.
But Wendralith was relentless, tearing through the room with reckless abandon. Another thunderous BAM! and the next pillar collapsed, spraying debris in every direction. Blake barely avoided the shrapnel, diving behind what was now one of the last remaining columns. His heart thundered in his chest.
Just wen he thought it couldn't get worse, it did, a whole lot. The sound of ice shattering filled the room, sharp and shrill. Blake froze, his blood running cold.
From the opposite side of the throne room, Crysalynth emerged—a sinuous, crystalline monstrosity whose jagged edges gleamed like dark polished stone. Its serpentine body moved with unsettling grace, shards of ice scattering the floor as it slithered forward.
"Great. Just what I needed," Blake hissed, his teeth gritted.
Wendralith turned its antlered head toward the new arrival, letting out a guttural growl. Crysalynth responded with a piercing screech, its fractured jaw opening wide. Blake's brief moment of relief turned to dread as both monsters simultaneously turned their attention back to him.
"No, no, no—Goddamit! Of course you both want a piece of me!"
He leapt away from the pillar as Wendralith charged again, but this time, Crysalynth struck too. One of its many claws lashed forward, catching him mid-air.
The world spun as Blake was flung like a rag doll, his back slamming into the floor with bone-jarring force. Before he could recover, Crysalynth lunged, one jagged claw slicing clean through his left arm.
The pain was blinding. Blake screamed, clutching at the ragged stump as blood poured out in a torrential flow. His vision blurred, his mind screaming at him to move, to fight, to do something.
Wendralith loomed over him now, the two monsters momentarily circling as though deciding who would claim the kill. Blake's hand tightened around his sword, but his strength was waning fast.
Then, a metallic clang cut through the chaos, reverberating through the throne room like a war drum.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
Both beasts froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the sound.
There, standing defiantly next to the throne, was Aria. Her shield slammed repeatedly against the gilded surface, each strike deliberate and loud. Her eyes burned with raw determination, her face covered in blood, her legs trembling, her body battered.
"Over here, you bastards!" she bellowed.
Blake looked at her with wide eyes, before a grin appeared on his face. 'That woman... How beautiful.'
-------
Everything hurt. Standing hurt. Shouting hurt. Breathing hurt.
Aria clenched her jaw, pushing the pain down as her thoughts spiraled. 'What am I doing? This is insane. You're insane.' Her mind screamed at her to stop, to run, to live. But her feet stayed planted, rooted to the cold stone.
Across the room, the two beasts shifted, their hungry gazes locking onto her. Her body trembled, fear clawing at her resolve. Her legs felt like they might give out at any moment. The instinct to flee was overwhelming, every fiber of her being begging her to run—but she forced herself to exhale.
A single, shaky breath.
'You're crazy,' she thought, gripping her shield until her fingers ached. 'That's the only explanation. You're completely, absolutely crazy.'
The thought almost made her laugh, but instead, she raised the battered shield and slammed it against the throne with a metallic clang once more. The sound rang out, loud and defiant, echoing through the ruined hall.
"COME ON THEN!" she roared, her voice raw and desperate. Her throat burned, but she didn't care. She bashed the shield against the throne again, harder this time. "COME GET ME, YOU BASTARDS!"
The beasts tensed. Wendralith took a single, deliberate step toward her, its massive frame blocking out the light. Crysalynth shifted behind it, scales shimmering with an unholy gleam.
And then, they stopped.
Not just Wendralith. Crysalynth froze mid-movement. Aria's chest heaved, her breath coming in ragged gasps as a strange sensation washed over her. A crackling hum filled the air, vibrating deep in her bones. Her fingers slackened around the shield as realization dawned.
The runes.
They had activated.
A slow smirk spread across Blake's bloodied face as he lay crumpled on the floor, his voice barely audible over the growing hum.
"Kaboom."
In an instant, everything turned white.
There was no sound, no pain, no time to scream—only an all-consuming light that swept across the fortress, erasing everything in its path. The great walls, the throne room, the beasts themselves—all of it vanished in a wave of pure destruction.
When the light faded, silence returned to the icy plains. The once-mighty fortress was gone, obliterated as though it had never been. The wind whispered through the empty tundra, carrying the last traces of smoke into the endless sky.
It had become peaceful once more.
-------
[Wake up Aria! You're nightmare is over.]
[prepare for appraisal...]
*****
Author's Note:
Sorry for the delay on this chapter! I had a tough time getting the ending right like i wanted it, and it took longer than expected to come together. On top of that, exams had me tied up for a bit, so I appreciate your patience.
I also apologize if this ending feels rushed, I just had enough of this part.
Thank you for reading.