431 LE, Mountain City of Peturu
Some days, Evoril desperately wished for the wings that Sarril had jokingly accused him of hiding beneath his robes. Especially when they were ascending into the forbidding mountains, along trails that had a sheer cliff on one side and an equally sheer drop on the other. Even worse was the constant fighting with the various pests that inhabited the mountains - great hawks, the occasional furious feline, some strange rock-mimics that Evoril had never seen before in his life, and the strangest bunnies he'd ever run into, and that was saying something.
They had axes. Axes! He had no idea how they even made the blasted weapons, let alone held them!
He was currently turning over an axe that he had liberated from a body before it flashed back to ether, examining the surprisingly well constructed stone and wood weapon.
"Hey, Ril, Evoril, you two coming?" Marith shouted back at them from his position further up the trail, near the gate to Peturu.
Evoril exchanged a glance with the redhead, then glanced at the gate that led into the mountain. "I think not." He said with as much dignity as he could muster, repressing the shudder that ran down his spine at the very thought of being both underground and surrounded by people. "I will wait out here. You are merely replacing your supplies, correct?"
"Well, yeah, but c'mon! You wouldn't mention any sort of weapon or items for us to get you, and surely-"
"Marith." Evoril interrupted, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose hard. "I am a mage. I have no need of weapons, and the very thought of a non-scholarly city having anything on spells I am unaware of is ridiculous."
Not that he was capable of casting many of the modern spells - his core was so much wilder than the modern humans that modern spells tended to react strangely when he cast them. It was like a gentile rider, accustomed to the placid pace of a palfrey, attempting to ride a mustang. The last time he'd done it, he'd utterly destroyed a room attempting to cast a healing spell.
"But you shouldn't stay out here by yourself!"
"Marith." Evoril growled in warning, putting a hint of his power behind his voice.
The green haired youth yelped, held his hands up in surrender, then grabbed Castia's hand and bolted through the doors into Peturu. At Evoril's side, Sarril burst out into laughter.
Evoril snorted and shot Sarril a quelling look, though he was afraid the attempt was ruined by the amused smirk that was tugging on his lips.
"Marith." Sarril growled in imitation of Evoril. "Oooh, the look on his face! How far do you think he ran?"
"I neither know nor care." Evoril said as he stepped over to a convenient rock and settled down, returning to his contemplation of the axe.
Sarril plucked the axe from Evoril's fingers and ungracefully threw himself down upon the same - rather small - rock, a smirk on his face as he pointedly ignored Evoril's dark glare and made himself comfortable across the mage's lap. "So, ready to face ol' Godbeast?"
"I do not recall giving you permission to invade my personal space." Evoril muttered as he snatched the axe back. "And yes. I have been ready since the three of you first requested my aid in this little quest of yours."
"But it's so cute to see the little furrows that form here and here whenever I do!" Sarril illustrated by lightly touching first Evoril's forehead, then the outer corner of his eye with a finger. "And it's not our fault that you're a bloody Lord and can't really gain much more from our wanderings."
Evoril twitched at the touch, unaccustomed to such casual disregard of his personal space. Sarril seemed to enjoy being so free with his person - it was something about being a Nethias, Evoril was positive, as he'd never run across such a need in any other branch of humanity. He'd dumped the man on the ground the first few times Sarril had done this, but the blasted man continued. It was as if, having come to a tentative truce in the Hidden Forest, and then finding out part of his past at the Cliffs, Sarril felt that he was similar enough to a Nethias that such liberties were not only expected, but welcome.
"No, but it is your fault for dragging me across half the known world, chasing dreams and mischief the entire way," Evoril eventually said.
"Aaaaah," Sarril breathed. "But you gained of it, did you not? The Ice Hunter, for one."
Grudgingly, Evoril nodded. He had indeed gained, in knowledge of the world if not spells.
"Then I don't see why you complain so," Sarril continued. "And now we're at his doorstep. What will you do when he is destroyed?"
That, Evoril had to admit, he was unsure about. As the Lord of Night's powers had never been gathered by the 'Godbeast' - as Sarril insisted on calling the man - the old Lord would not miraculously take form once more. Not that Evoril believed the other Lords would reform either.
No, it was far more likely that, once released, the power of the Lords would return once more to the Goddess, and She would grant the powers to those she felt worthy of them. He wondered who would be chosen. Sarril and the others, perhaps? Castia would undoubtedly make a fine Lord Healer.
Sarril drew him from his muses with a few light taps on his shoulder. At Evoril's questioning look, he shrugged. "You were off in the clouds."
"I was considering the fate of the other Lords," Evoril said. He had no reason to lie to the swordsman. "I doubt they will simply return to life - rather, I believe the Aspects will return to the Goddess until such time as She decides to return them to the world."
"Will you?" The question was spoken so softly that Evoril would have missed it if Sarril wasn't sprawled across his lap. "Will you vanish and return to the Goddess?"
Evoril felt his lips quirk upwards in a smile. "As much as it would please Castia, no, I doubt I will vanish. If She does decide to retake the Aspect from me, I am still well within my lifespan that such an action would do nothing more than return me to what I once was."
"Speaking of - how old are you anyway?" Sarril asked, looking up at him with a glint of mischievousness in his eyes.
"Older than you, child."
"Yeah, but--"
Evoril forcefully silenced the redhead by dint of placing a hand over the other's mouth, then gave Sarril a disgusted look when he felt the man's tongue lick his hand. "You are such a child."
He continued to ignore Sarril's indignant - and completely unintelligible - noises, though when Sarril went to lick his hand a second time, he responded by gathering a spark of magic in the palm of his hand and releasing it. The pained yelp Sarril gave was victory enough.
Sarril reached up and forcefully wrenched Evoril's hand free. "Sadistic bastard."
"But of course," Evoril said with a smirk.
"And just when I thought you were saving all of that for Castia."
"I wouldn't have stopped at a small spark if it was Castia."
Sarril paused for a moment, contemplating that as he stared off at the gates of the city. Eventually, he said, "No, no I suppose you wouldn't have, would you."
431 LE, Castle of Souls
"Begone!" Evoril shouted, hand splayed before him and voice laced with power.
The spirit shrieked and faded away into mist. Other spirits on the battlefield gave angered cries and twisted away, unwilling to come closer to the Lord of Night. They faded off into the ever-present darkness that blanketed the Castle.
"How much longer can you keep doing that?" Sarril asked softly, as he paused at Evoril's side. His twin blades dripped blood and one sleeve was torn off - not everything here was ghostly.
Evoril frowned, gaze sweeping over the dark room then back to Sarril. "Indefinitely. I cannot, however, banish the entire castle's worth of spirits without draining myself."
"Good to know." Sarril nodded absently as he lifted his blades and focused on a golem. "Well, back to carving a path."
He snorted faintly, but kept his comments to himself. The Castle was infested was twisted parodies of life - with shades and living shadows and spirits, dragged into the realm of the living by the unbalanced power of Adura - and by things that used to be living creatures, before being corrupted by that same power.
Adura, it seemed, was learning the hard way that the Aspect of Night was one of the first he should have claimed.
Down dark corridors they traveled, fighting for practically every step they advanced. The stone absorbed the light from the magelights Evoril had conjured at the start of this adventure, leaving them in permanent twilight.
Evoril could recall when the Castle of Souls shone with light, pale stones catching and reflecting the smallest hint of light until the entire place glowed. But now... now it crouched in darkness, a battered prisoner ready to lash out at anyone and anything, even those come to free it. This once proud seat of the Goddess' power was corrupted by the greed of a mortal, and was now unwilling to trust anyone.
Sarril fell into step next to him as they traversed an empty corridor towards the last set of stairs to the roof. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Evoril shot the redhead a glower. "Do you not know the significance of the Castle of Souls?"
"Eh, I've heard of it a time or two, but that's all."
"Ignorant heathen," Evoril said without rancor. "The Castle is the seat of the Goddess' power. Hence why Adura has claimed it as his - he wants to become a god to rival the Goddess, and thus feels that he should ascend from the same place that She ascended so many millennia ago."
"What's stopping him, then?" Sarril asked. "You can't have me believe that one missing Aspect is enough to keep him from the power he wants."
"And that would be true, if not for the fact that the missing Aspect is that of Night." Evoril allowed a smirk to curl the edges of his lips. "Or, as my Aspect was known in my childhood... the Aspect of Death."
Dead silence met his announcement, and three sets of shocked eyes were turned on him. In Marith's gaze he could read trepidation and wariness, as the boy finally realized exactly what he'd been dragging around like a puppy for months. Castia had outright fear warring with fury in her gaze - clearly, this revelation had done nothing to aid his reputation. Sarril, however, was merely exasperated and faintly amused.
"For love of the Goddess, did none of you stop to think why I had the ability to resurrect you whenever you fell in battle?"
Sarril just grinned and thumped him on the back. "Just thought it was part of your natural charm, Voril!"
He glowered at the exuberant swordsman, then gestured abruptly towards the stairs just barely visible at the edge of the light. "Shall we get on with this, then? I think we are all anxious to have this done with."
Marith's sharp nod and Castia's rapidly bobbing head were his answer, and the four of them proceeded single file up the narrow, spiraling stairs to the roof of the central tower. Here, as elsewhere in the Castle, the stone remained black as pitch, the windows filled in with opaque shadows. Corrupt power swirled about them, tainting the very air they breathed until it clung in their throats and filled their lungs like water, choking them.
With a growl, Evoril unleashed his own aura, finally tired of playing helpless mortal. The air around them instantly turned chill, the taint washed from the air with a rush like a midwinter's breeze. Three sets of thankful looks were shot his way, though Evoril could tell that the weight of his aura pressed uncomfortably upon both Marith and Castia - clearly his state as a Lord had never truly been real to the two before.
Marith shoved the trap-door open with a loud bang!, and proudly stalked the last few steps out onto the roof as if he hadn't required the assistance of the last Lord to make it this far. Then Castia, her staff gripped tightly in her hand as she glared across the roof to Adura's silhouette. Sarril paced quickly to Marith's left, both swords unsheathed and ready.
Evoril trailed behind them, standing easily at the back of the formation.
Adura stood across from them, hidden by the glare of the setting sun. The chaos of his stolen powers made the very air around the man shimmer and twist.
"Tell me, little Mar, are you still chasing dreams?" Adura broke the silence over the tower as he stalked forward. His body came into sharp relief as he left the glare of the sun, revealing sun gold hair, fair skin, and the most garish uniform Evoril had ever had the misfortune to see. Brilliant red jacket, ocean blue edging, and - horror of horrors - gold pants. A patch of brighter red the shape of a shield stood out on the man's left shoulder, as if he'd torn a unit patch from the jacket and not bothered to make the area blend in.
Marith's swift intake of breath told Evoril all he needed to know. This was no stranger to the green-haired boy.
"Shara." Marith breathed the name almost reverently. "But... we'd thought you dead. All the reports said you were dead."
"They left me for dead!" The man growled, hands slashing angrily through the air. "I fell into the pit and they simply left me! Me! Who helped them, covered for them, fought alongside them since our days as trainees - tossed aside like trash!"
"No! They tried to get you free! They were over a week late returning!"
"Then they didn't try hard enough!"
"Night walks in flesh, let the fools despair - Book of the Void!" Evoril interrupted the shouting match, voice dispassionate.
The landscape around them, the tower, even the other three members of the party, all disappeared into the blank void of the spell, leaving only Evoril, the enraged Adura, and a book floating between them. A flash of violet, a flicker of pages, and a shadow stood before the book, shadow-twin to the Godbeast. With a heartless leer, the shadow lifted a hand and pointed its finger at its living double.
"Bane Flash!"
A roar of magical fire shattered the unnatural silence, as it swept from shadow-Adura and engulfed Adura. The man's screams lasted beyond the fading of the void.
Sickened blue eyes fixated on Evoril, condemnation in their depths.
"Is this not what you called upon me for, Marith?" With a sneer, Evoril stepped back and raised both hands to the sky. "Great ruler of the sky, come to my call - Lightning Drake! Great ruler of the inferno, devour mine enemies - Flame Wolf! Great ruler of the ice, freeze all before me - Ice Hunter!"
Twin howls announced the arrival of the Summons of Ice and Fire, and a piercing shriek announced the arrival of his Summon of Air. Calling three at once was tiring, but now was no time to withhold his strength.
Sarril shook himself from his stupor and lunged forward, swords at the ready. Castia reluctantly raised her staff. Marith gave a sigh and advanced.
Wolf and Hunter darted in between Marith and Sarril, joining the fray. Fire and ice battled for supremacy across the tower.
"Bane Flash!" Adura shouted. The magical fire swept outward in an arc, questing for prey.
Wolf darted between Sarril and the blast, howling in agony but unbowed. Hunter merely slammed a paw on the roof, raising a wall of ice between it and the flames. Drake snagged Marith in a clawed foot and lifted him above the attack.
"Rising Crash!" Marith cried as Drake dropped him. Flames flickered across his blade as he fell, sword pointed down.
Adura dodged, a tongue of flame incinerating a golden lock. A look of disgust, the ring of drawn blade, and the man committed himself.
Evoril grit his teeth, focus locked on combating the corrupt aura of the Godbeast. It shimmered and flickered across the battlefield, an ebb and flow as unnatural as the creature he could see in Adura's place. Six skeletal wings, a barbed and whiplike tail, scaled arms and stilt-like legs... there was nothing human about Adura now. If there ever had been.
Though out-numbered and his aura locked in a separate combat, Adura fought well. Air rippled about his body, visible manifestation of a guardian spell. His sword rang true as he struck and wove. Too close for the large Summons to easily strike, too far for Marith or Sarril to lock him in combat. Here and there a flash of Skill or Spell-light, shouts drowned out by others.
At his side, Evoril felt Castia invoke protections. Felt those protections settle over herself, Marith, and Sarril. Felt her move on in her casting. Felt himself turn from her in dispassionate acceptance. He had long known she cared nothing for him.
It mattered not.
Grappling with aura, he struck as they struck, raining blows upon the spiritual as they rained blows upon the physical. Eventually, the Godbeast wavered. Once. Twice.
There!
Marith struck, a cry of "Flame of Annihilation!" on his lips as he plunged his blade into Adura's chest.
Sarril swept his blades out with similar determination. "Black Eclipse Blade!"
Wounds opened on Adura's body, ebony flames dancing with ruby as the two attacks merged. The two warriors backed off, watching the flames consume their foe, his screams echoing in their ears.
It was not over. Evoril knew it was not. The aura had flickered and stilled, not vanished.
A shockwave of force blew all of them back several feet. Adura stood, flames extinguishing, skin sloughing off like badly fitted clothes. Revulsion twisted through Evoril's gut as he watched the mask of humanity slip and the Godbeast properly emerge.
It was worse in person. The skull-like face was dominated by several vicious horns, all trace of golden hair gone. Bright green eyes glowed like poison, set deep in their sockets. Fangs extended over thin, bloodless lips.
With a growl, the Godbeast leapt into the air, his six skeletal wings ripping at the sky and holding him aloft despite appearances. The long barbed tail coiled around and the stilt-like legs folded up, taloned feet held ready.
"You would dare? You would dare defy me?! I am a God!" The Godbeast bellowed in rage. "I will destroy you all!"
The hunting shriek of the Lightning Drake broke all of them from their stupor. Marith leapt backwards, sword nicking the thin tail as the barb slid past his chest. Sarril ducked aside, his twin blades severing the spiked tip of one skeletal wing-finger.
As soon as both were out of easy range, Drake struck. Falling from the sky like a hawk on the hunt, the Drake impacted with the Godbeast's back, sending both into the rooftop. Talons hooked deep into thin flesh, the Drake bit deeply into the root of one wing and wrenched its head sharply back and up. Once more the Godbeast's scream rent the night.
Castia stumbled back, hand clamped over her mouth, eyes wide and face unnaturally pale. Marith swallowed hard, blue eyes riveted on the casual cruelty, as black blood dripped from the limb that had been ripped from Adura's back. Even Sarril, so accepting of everything else, was pale and frozen in place.
And it was truly gruesome, Evoril had to admit, a small part of him cringing away from the sight. But the larger part merely scoffed and shrugged. The Godbeast deserved no pity, no remorse. The Godbeast simply wasn't human.
"Night walks in flesh, bring the shadows to earth - Shadow Barrage!" Evoril swept his arm out, a ripple of darkness expanding from his gesture towards the pinned Godbeast.
The Drake tossed the dripping limb away and went for the next. The spell hit at the same moment, rippling shadows crawling across the Godbeast. Pained screamed took an entirely new timbre, poison green eyes shrinking to sparks.
Marith and Sarril shared a look, then grimly strode to take position on either side of the Godbeast. They raised their blades and cried as one, "Executioner!"
The red beam coalesced and connected their blades. As one, they shifted so the beam was aligned with their foe, then darted forward, one to either side of the Drake.
Evoril knew the moment the Godbeast wavered between life and death, felt it deep within his soul where both the Soul Storm and the Aspect resided. Violently, he wove his power together and hurled it outward. "Goddess, hear my plea! Your Aspect asks your aid - take this abomination and free your people of its corruption!"
The world froze.
Power whispered across his mind, weighing, judging, considering. It read him, knew him, found him both wanting and worthy.
'I hear your plea, my favored son, and grant you aid. It is done.' The voice followed the path of the power through his mind, a whisper of knowledge and sentience beyond age.
The world unfroze. The power surged and rose. The Godbeast dissolved into ash and dust beneath the paws of the Drake.
Evoril had barely a moment to savor the victory, before he realized the power was still rising, still surging. It was wild with the combined Aspects of the Goddess newly freed. His own power, already woven into the coming storm, lashed out.
Sarril cried out, back arching as a freed Aspect followed Evoril's own power back to the redhaired swordsman and sank into him. Marith, likewise, gave a cry of agony as another Aspect chose him. Castia's staff clattered to the stones as an Aspect violently clawed its way into her.
Rips formed in the air around them, gaps in the very fabric of the world, torn by the pressure of the gathered power. Before Evoril could do more than lunge across the field towards Sarril, his own powers suddenly returned to him with a harsh snap.
The world went dark.
Unknown time, Starfall Dragonry
There was not a part of him, Evoril thought muzzily, that did not ache.
He could not remember what had brought this about - none of the places Marith had dragged them held any challenge to him, so...
Wait. Sarril. Marith. Castia. Where were they? The last he recalled they were--
Evoril sat up sharply, left hand clenched around the barest spark of magic - the most he could seem to summon at the moment - and glanced around. Nothing was familiar. The walls looked to be carved from stone, and he could feel the weight of stone above his head, a claustrophobic sensation no matter how pleasant the accommodations.
"You're awake," a voice interrupted his thoughts before he could begin to panic. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
Evoril turned his head to fix the speaker with a look. "Where am I, and who are you?"
The woman laughed warmly and flashed him a smile. "I am Ariana, and this is Starfall Dragonry. We found you unconscious in the forest and brought you here to rest."
He glanced around again, feeling as lost as Sarril had looked when he'd brought up Caer Erathul. Clearly, whatever had happened had thrown him wider than he originally thought. Cautiously, he asked, "Were there any others found with me?"
Ariana blinked and shook her head. "No, we found no one else. Were you expecting someone?"
With a bitter laugh, Evoril shifted so he could rest his face in his hands. Didn't that just describe his life lately, dragged from one crises to the next. He could almost wish that Marith had never stepped into his life three years ago, as everything seemed to spiral out of control the moment the boy had done so.
A warm hand on his shoulder made him start and send a glower towards the woman.
"We'll run a search through the area, just in case," Ariana said soothingly. "What happened?"
"I and three others were dealing with a... beast that had gotten out of hand. We killed it, but some sort of power surge made tears in the sky. I tried to reach Sarril, but..." Evoril frowned and shook his head. "I don't recall."
"What do they look like?"
"Marith is tall and broad across the shoulders, with bright green hair and blue eyes. Castia is smaller, with sky blue hair and amber eyes. Sarril is tall and slender, with crimson hair and eyes." Evoril described briefly, thinking over the three he had been traveling with. Worry tugged at his heart, for both himself and them. Dislike Marith and Castia he might, but no one deserved to be cast adrift.
Worry congealed into the start of panic as he finally recalled why he'd started towards Sarril - the man had become a Lord! No, all three of them had become Lords!
The hand returned and gave a reassuring squeeze. "We'll send scouts out, don't worry so."
"I have to return, I can't stay here." Evoril ran a hand through his hair and absently tugged on it, eyes staring unseeing through the tropical blue strands caught in his fingers. There was something wrong with it, but he couldn't bring to mind the reason he thought so.
"And we can return you, but are you sure you don't want to rest for a time?" Ariana asked softly. "I can feel your exhaustion from here."
He took a breath, still staring at his hair. It was true - he wasn't even sure he could walk more than a few paces at the moment, but the thought of remaining underground was just as likely to send him into a panic attack as the realization that four Lords of his world were scattered who-knew-where across places they had never even dreamed about.
"I can't stay underground," he said with finality. "My people need the sky and air about us. And I need information. If my... companions... have not been brought here, where else could they have been brought? We must all return."
She nodded and rose, offering her hand to him. "Then we will move you outside. It's pleasant enough outdoors these days that we should be able to throw together something suitable without much problem."
With a final glower at his hair he tossed it back over his shoulder and accepted her help in rising. It humbled him, how much he had to lean on Ariana, but she seemed unbothered as she guided him through the door and out into the tunnel.
"Has your hair offended you somehow?" Ariana asked with a smile. "You seemed particularly fixated on it back there."
"No. Something just seems... off." Evoril took in the corridor they were walking through as he thought on that. What was so wrong with his hair? It had always been a bright tropical blue-- except when he had gained the Soul Storm! Anxiously, he glanced back at Ariana. "Ariana, what color are my eyes?"
Apparently unphased by the odd question, Ariana merely looked at him closely, then said with assurance, "A pale green, like new leaves or a green apple."
Why now? What had changed to cause his hair and eyes to revert? A quick glance at his nails proved that they had blunted ever so slightly, and a thumb run over his teeth found them sharp, but not unnaturally so. His skin was still pale, but not that unnerving, ghostly white it had been. He allowed Ariana to continue to guide him as he sunk into his mind to search out his core, searching for the difference.
His core was depleted, almost dangerously so, but it was unharmed. The Aspect still wrapped around his very being, though muted now that it was taken from its realm of influence. But the Soul Storm! Where it had once rippled and spun independent of his core, it now threaded calmly through him. It, too, was depleted, but he no longer had the sense of being at war with himself.
A relieved sigh escaped, and he opened his eyes, only to pause and stare in incomprehension at the single teal egg and the strange dragon curled about it. A quick glance around proved that, no, they were not above-ground yet.
"Ariana, what is this?"
She smiled brightly, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I just thought that you'd like a companion capable of helping you search for your missing friends. Well? Go on, see if the egg will bond with you."
Evoril opened his mouth to give a scathing retort of some sort, only to close it with a snap. While the entire concept was ridiculous - after all, he did have Lightning Drake - he might as well humor this woman. She had, after all, promised aid. What harm was there in touching an egg, so long as that dragon curled around it didn't lash out at him?
With an exasperated sigh, he allowed her to lead him across the sands, towards the egg.