His thoughts didn't fly far but only to seven months ago...
* * * *
Akriod, clad in dark armor, his black cape flowing behind him, and a dark, enigmatic mask illuminated by glowing eyes, lay on his back in a vast expanse between two great seas.
Suddenly, he rose, looked to his right and left, and discovered that the great city had disappeared—its towering walls, bustling inhabitants, and every trace of its existence were gone.
He placed his hand on his head, "What is this feeling of mental emptiness?" Akriod spoke in his deep, manly voice.
It was a strange sensation—not pain, but something that seemed to drain all kinds of thoughts.
After getting up, he felt a surprising sense of mental relief, although he couldn't pinpoint the exact reason for it.
But his chest was squeezed by an unknown pain, the cause of which he did not know.
It was not a dream but a stark reality. Without hesitation, he got up from his place and made his decision in an instant.
The first thing he did was to move far away. He headed towards the great forest extending north, where he disappeared into its dark shadows, leaving everything behind.
* * * *
A month had passed since the destruction of Arkan.
The sky wept endlessly, rain cascading in sheets that blurred the horizon.
Yet, amidst this downpour, there stood a vast plateau, its surface uneven and alive with the labyrinthine roots of the colossal Mother Tree.
Towering above the landscape, the tree had grown over the rugged mountain, its gnarled trunk ascending to pierce the clouds.
Its branches sprawled in every direction, their breadth and length forming a natural cathedral that darkened the earth below.
So immense was its canopy that no rain could penetrate, leaving the ground beneath it dry and untouched, a serene refuge amidst the tempest.
It was the thunderous clatter of horses' hooves that broke the rhythm of the rain, rising above the downpour with terrifying clarity.
The horses neighed as they ran away, their breath caught between terror and despair, rushing forward like unbending meteors cutting through the storm.
In the absence of reason, their animal instincts and the primal fear coursing through their veins told them that it was better not to look back.
Turning would mean facing the inevitable, seeing the shadow of looming doom that would tear their innocent souls apart.
There was no need for slowing down—only a speed that reflected the raw certainty of these poor animals, overwhelmed by the terror caused by the predator lurking behind them.
The horror took the form of a dark knight, his black cape fluttering violently in the storm winds, his mask as dark as the night itself, and his eyes glowing like moonlight.
With all his strength, he seized a massive grey thoroughbred horse, its silky black mane flowing like dark silk.
Despite its immense size, the horse couldn't break free from the knight's iron grip, as he dug his hand mercilessly into its neck. The horse's strength was helpless against the knight's brutality and relentless power.
Beneath the knight's feet lay the corpses of five fallen knights, their white robes stained with blood, a grim testament to the extinguishing of their lives.
Luck played no part in their fate; it was merely that their time had come, condemning them as victims of a price they never deserved.
"Look what you made me do, akriod." The knight spoke in his deep, manly voice.
The knight mounted the trembling horse.
Although it was just an animal, the look of despair that made the blood pool in its eyes was a reflection of the terror it carried.
A gentle kick from the knight made the horse react instinctively, charging forward at speed to obey his command.