The Kaelen I knew was long gone, his essence devoured. In his place stood a hollow figure, a perversion carved from memory. The vibrant sapphire of his eyes, had been extinguished, leaving behind glazed, vacant pools. They held no recognition, only a chilling, predatory appraisal that swept over Adrix, Liora, Noctis, then Finn, lingering on each. A slow, deliberate smirk—a viper uncoiling—slid across his lips. A shard of ice pierced my gut, stealing the air.
He simply stood there. The silence in the clearing descended, broken only by the wind’s mournful whisper through the skeletal branches of the deadwood. My vision tunneled, narrowing to the hateful curve of that smirk etched onto what was once his face. A sound ripped from my throat, less human cry than animalistic snarl, and I launched myself at him, sword first.
The instant before steel could taste corrupted flesh, the air around him shimmered, a heat haze rising from scorched earth, then solidified. A barrier of distorted, obsidian force erupted, slamming into me with the impact of a battering ram. Air exploded from my lungs in a searing rush as I was flung violently backwards.
The thud of my body against packed earth was punctuated by the sharp crackle of Adrix’s power. Even as I gasped for breath, violet mana, agitated and bristling, danced between his fingers. Liora, a blur of grace, was already coiled, twin daggers singing from their sheaths, glinting with a light that promised retribution. Noctis’s sword, its familiar deep aura flaring, bathing him in a protective, defiant glow. Even Finn, face a stark white mask of terror yet his eyes blazing resolute, stood his ground, a hesitant, swirl of golden mana flickering around his knuckles.
“Why are you doing this?!” I screamed, the words tearing from a raw throat, tasting of dust, blood, and the bitter acid of betrayal. Adrix, Liora, Noctis, and Finn formed a protective arc before me, their combined readiness a silent, defiant challenge to the monster wearing Kaelen’s face.
Kaelen’s lips, still contorted in that horrifying smirk, twitched. When he spoke, his voice was a desecration of the warm, resonant tones I cherished, now laced with a chilling, metallic rasp that scraped against my nerves. “Why, you ask?” A low, guttural laugh rumbled from his chest, a sound that vibrated with the wrongness clinging to him. “Because the King showed me the truth, Lyra.” Those vacant blue pools flickered with a disturbing, zealous light. “He showed me the festering lies all of you hide behind. He showed me it was you humans who destroyed my people!” He spat the last words, his stolen face contorting with a venom that felt like a physical blow.
I forced myself upright, legs threatening to buckle, less from the impact than the crushing weight of his words. His people?
“What… what do you mean, your people?” I believed he was elven, but this consuming hatred, this venomous accusation, was a horrifying, alien unknown.
“My race!” Kaelen’s voice rose, sharp as a honed blade. “The Elven race! Wiped from the face of this world because you humans coveted what we possessed! Because your kind decided we should serve you, exist only for your parasitic benefit!” His chest heaved, the dark power radiating from him thrumming in sympathy with his rage, a palpable aura of seething menace.
The sheer, stinking hypocrisy clawed through my shock. “Yet you’re serving the King?!” I yelled, my voice cracking despite the fury. “He’s a tyrant! He’s using you, Kaelen! He’s using everyone! Can’t you see that?”
Kaelen tilted his head, regarding me with an expression that might have been pity. “Is that what you truly believe, Lyra?” His twisted voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, slithering into my ears with unnerving weight. “He isn’t using anyone. He is birthing a new world, Lyra. A world far purer than this. And to achieve such a glorious end,” his eyes gleamed with that terrifying, fanatical light, “we must all be prepared to make sacrifices.”
The air grew thick with his poisonous words, his vision of a “better world” built on sacrifice chilling me to the bone. Before I could articulate a response to such madness, Adrix, who had been vibrating with suppressed fury, finally snapped.
“I’ve heard enough!” he roared, stepping forward, his body abruptly wreathed in violent energy. Violet mana, sharp and incandescent, crackled around him like a gathering storm. “Lyra, don’t let his lies take root!”
With a guttural cry, Adrix thrust his hands forward. Lances of pure violet energy, crackling with untamed power, shrieked towards Kaelen. But Kaelen merely scoffed, a negligent flick of his wrist conjuring a shimmering, multi-layered shield. It pulsed with a dark, oily light, absorbing Adrix’s attacks as if they were pebbles tossed against a fortress wall, each bolt dissipating with a dull, sickening thud.
“You aren’t on my level, little mage.” A pressure slammed down—heavy, suffocating—as Kaelen’s aura exploded outwards. It wasn’t just power; it was a miasma of fundamental wrongness. The air grew frigid, carrying a scent like rust and disturbed grave dirt. It felt torn, unstable, yet terrifyingly vast, shadows writhing within the chaotic energy as if I were staring into a barely contained abyss. With horrifying speed, this corrupted energy coalesced, then shrieked outwards.
Adrix bellowed, thrusting his hands out, muscles tight. A dome of defiant, deep violet mana erupted around us, shimmering desperately against the onrushing tide of Kaelen’s darkness. The collision was apocalyptic. A deafening CRACK-BOOM tore the air, the ground bucking beneath my feet. The shockwave hit like a physical blow, stealing my breath and flinging a blinding wall of dust and debris outwards, swallowing everything.
When the dust began to settle, stinging my eyes, Kaelen stood untouched. His expression shifted with unnerving speed; the fanatical gleam, the overt cruelty, receded. His features smoothed into a semblance of the man he once was – a hauntingly beautiful, terrifyingly familiar mask. His eyes, losing some of their vacant coldness, locked onto mine with a disturbing, possessive intensity.
“Won’t you join me, Lyra?” he murmured, his voice now a softer, persuasive caress—a trap that sent shivers of revulsion down my spine. “Our fates are intertwined. You know you felt the pull, once. You still do, don’t you?”
His words struck a raw nerve, a painful echo of a past I thought buried. Yes, a small, treacherous part of me whispered, I did feel something. The admission brought fresh nausea. But not for this. Not for him.
My gaze drifted to Adrix. He was panting, his shield wavering but holding. Through the swirling dust, I saw his expression – a flicker of raw hurt in his eyes as he looked at me, waiting, his breath caught.
That fragile look in Adrix’s eyes solidified my resolve. I straightened, lifting my chin, my head snapping back to Kaelen, my own eyes hardening.
“Fate hasn’t pulled us anywhere,” I said, my voice cold and clear, cutting through the dust and his manipulative charm. “You’re delusional. And we are not meant to be.”
My defiance only seemed to amuse him. A cold, cruel smile touched Kaelen’s lips. “You’ll see, Lyra. You will change your mind.”
His dismissive smile was a lit match to Adrix’s frayed control. I saw Adrix’s jaw clench, a muscle feathering. The violet mana around him, which had simmered, now boiled. “No,” he choked out, voice tight with fury, “she won’t!” Then it erupted. Wild, jagged sparks of violet energy flew from him, flying dangerously. Adrix was incandescent, his control visibly fracturing, mana flickering erratically, hands trembling violently. The air thrummed, pressure mounting like a supercharged storm.
“Adrix, calm down!” Noctis yelled, then, without hesitation, charged Kaelen, sword leading, Liora a deadly, glinting shadow at his heels. They didn’t make it far. With a wave, Kaelen unleashed a pulse of dark mana. It slammed into them like an invisible giant’s fist, throwing them hard to the ground where they skidded, gasping.
The air around Adrix was a vortex of raw, storming power. I need to get to him! The thought screamed, overriding everything. I pushed up, heart pounding a war drum, and ran, dodging a stray arc of Adrix’s uncontrolled magic that sizzled where it struck earth. Reaching him, I threw my arms around his shaking form, pressing myself against his back. “Adrix, please! Focus on me!”
He stiffened, his mana raging like a thousand burning needles. Slowly, his head turned, wild violet eyes—burning with untamed fury—found mine. The rage didn’t vanish, but it subtly settled, the sharpest edges softening. The chaotic storm began to even out, violent crackling subsiding into a more controlled, but still immense and dangerous, hum.
It was then Finnian, brave, foolish Finn, chose his moment. With a desperate cry, he thrust his hands forward, launching a wavering, uncertain bolt of his newly learned golden mana. Kaelen didn’t even seem to register the fragile attack. He backhanded the shimmering bolt as one might swat an annoying gnat; it dissolved with a pathetic pop.
Kaelen watched, an eyebrow raised. A flicker of something unreadable – surprise? Calculation? – crossed his features as his gaze flickered between the deadened magic, and Adrix, now steadier in my arms. “Interesting,” he mused, voice soft, almost thoughtful. “Such… ancient magic. I haven’t seen its like in a very long time.” He sighed, a theatrical sound of profound boredom that tightened my stomach. “Oh well. Time to end this little reunion.”
Before anyone could react, he launched a blast of concentrated dark mana. It was impossibly fast, a needle-thin lance of pure, malice. Adrix, sensing lethal danger, tried to reinforce his shield, but Kaelen’s attack, pierced through it like damp parchment, striking true. Not at Adrix. Not at me. It slammed directly into Finnian.
He couldn’t even cry out. The impact lifted him, then threw him backwards like a discarded doll. He landed in a crumpled heap and lay still—horrifically, unnaturally still. A dark stain blossomed on the ground beneath him.
“Noooo!” Liora’s scream was a raw, tearing sound of pure, anguish. She scrambled up, ignoring her own pain, and rushed to Finn’s side, dropping to her knees. A gentle, golden light bloomed from her hands, desperately coaxing life as she searched for any spark to heal.
Kaelen turned his attention to me, face lacking any emotion. “The King wants you, Lyra. Unbroken. So think about what I’ve said. If you don’t agree to come with me next time,” his voice dropped, each word a chilling, deliberate promise, “I won’t be so… considerate. Think of this as a warning. And a parting gift.” He gestured vaguely towards Finn’s still form, the casualness a fresh stab of pain. “See you around.”
With that, he turned and walked calmly towards a shimmering distortion in the air – a swirling portal that pulsed with a sickly light. He stepped through without a backward glance. The portal snapped shut with the crack of a whip.
The deafening silence Kaelen left was instantly shattered by Liora’s anguished, broken cries. As the last vestiges of the portal vanished, I sprinted to where she knelt beside Finn. Noctis and Adrix, shaken but recovering, faces grim, were right behind me.
Liora was draped over Finn, shoulders shaking with violent sobs. Her soft, pulsing golden healing light enveloped them. “Please, Finn… Finn, please come back to me!” she screamed, voice hoarse and breaking, tearing at my own heart, each word a fresh stab of guilt and grief. “Please, wake up!”
Tears welled, blurring the horrific sight of Finn—so terribly still, face pale beneath streaks of dirt and blood. Kaelen’s parting gift. The words echoed. Liora poured her healing energy into him, her mana desperately mending whatever grievous damage Kaelen’s dark magic inflicted. The air was thick with her despair, the metallic scent of Finn’s blood, and the faint, sweet smell of Liora’s light. It felt like an eternity, each sob a hammer blow against the fragile, flickering hope I desperately clung to.
Then, through the heartbreaking sounds, a whisper, almost lost beneath Liora’s weeping.
“M’… M’alright…”
Liora’s sobbing hitched. We all froze, hope and disbelief warring within me.
“…thanks, Liora,” Finn’s weak voice rasped, broken by a cough. His hand, trembling visibly, moved with excruciating slowness, reaching up to touch her arm, to weakly encompass her hand where it pressed frantically against his chest.
Liora gasped, a choked, desperate sound—half sob, half prayer. She looked down, her tear-streaked face a mask of utter disbelief. Seeing his eyes flutter open, seeing that small, pained smile ghost across his bloodless lips, she began to cry anew, the raw agony washed away by a flood of overwhelming relief. Her body slumped as impossible tension drained, replaced by shuddering, grateful sobs as she clutched his hand, her forehead resting against his.
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