The knight of the butterflies felt the dusk heat and the night chills at the same broad ground on where he lay still. The deafening silence under the prison cells of the Garrick he succumbs for a moment, and Salagor thinks that nothing changed after he fought a creature beyond the depths of his imagination, and killing a mortal wizard would do no such reward except for freedom. He sat on a dry, cold floor without a chain. In the foggy edges of darkness, the floor breathes a patch of moonlight over the stone, and by the vision of blur, he stumbled upon a gray chiseled table with a large pitcher of silver beside a small cup full of sweet-scented wine.
In the foggy edges of darkness, the floor breathes a patch of moonlight over the stone, and by the vision of blur, he stumbled upon a gray chiseled table with a large pitcher of silver beside a small cup full of sweet-scented wine [https://img.wattpad.com/d42cf018207e37737f650daf74ba4aeeae2b22a6/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f784f6936746972715f51417164673d3d2d313332333733333231352e313735336562643165616539353237633636393339363030383533302e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
The absence of rabble took place inside the black nest of unkindness. He thought no use in tasting, but he smell the wine by twisting the cup gently to fuse the aroma towards his nose. It is indeed sweet, but cunning, the ripples of the winter winds blew the ground, but all he can see was the torn blood of the dead surfing in the glass. Salagor puts down the glass and heads toward the arched oak wood door. He is unable to breathe out his rage again like from the last of his imprisonment, but he wondered about his existence beyond the sight of many people, and why the reward does not grant him the expected.
He knocks on the door softly, and the sound fumes a stinging ring that echoed throughout the hall of stone. In the space between the door, there cast a light of the torch fire but a shadow shone none, even in his interval knockings, nothing changed. He returned to where he came from, a cold flat companion, and sat silent.
Salagor: Akeleyde, I fear the wrath.
He began singing softly to himself for the girl she wished he could obey, protect, swear, and sacrifice for.
Salagor: I stood here like a creeping cat, in a shadowless frame of a blinking path. I killed your kin in the swirling wind above in the veiling sphere.
Then he slows down, he sang no more, a lesser rhythm that hums through his mouth still poured.
Salagor: But I mourn, please believe I mourn, I was told to do the quest I suppose to abandon. I do not know what to do from the tasks mentioned. It was dark, grim, and unnaturally cruel. I saw things that is beyond my imagination, vile and twisted paths that led to nowhere but a plane that I rue entered.
The unarmored, helpless knight begs to be out of his misery. He rang a loud bang on the wall by smashing his hands sideward to its frame, but the walls behind him never shook. The sound told a sign that he is in a chamber of a strong fortress within a city. He heard faint talking and whispering of people like he was clasped in the middle of a restless ocean wave. Salagor began to scan the chamber, looking for something heavy or sharp to tear apart the tree door. Bent and weary he surveyed the cold stone floor from the edges and its sides, stretching his way in a circle, but the indication of the equipment he planned to find was merely possible.
He never mentioned a word in the place where the shadow meets despite his surprise at something that snarled his palms close. The moment when his hands touched the warm hilt of the sword, the white radiance crawled like a snake inside the renowned blade within the darkness. The chances of unraveling the secrets are near at hand, indeed in his palms where an inscription of a known magic spell appeared, and it quickly disappeared as if the vigor joined his bloodstream without a trace. When the heat came slithering inside his flesh and beyond his skin, he turned his head back towards the sealed frontier where there flashed a beam of the golden sky of light. The warmth whipped his body as if a scythe rolled towards his stead.
A push might not help his riddles and guesses, but the mighty door tilted aside and continuously swung until the wood touched the stone casing after he tried it. And in the eyes of two windows that shone a single unblinking light, a person was walking towards the moon and halted in front of the sun-bright hearth with a great chalice upon its hand. The mortal was cloaked in a dark shaded garment typically worn before sleeping, seeping and seeping, but said nothing.
Salagor: May I excuse to question you about my confinement? If you know my deeds to make myself free. If you watched me leap together with that wizard, and until our last breath atop the pillar, upon the land that I do not know about. Then how much would I question you? How much would I pay again for the debts that are already done?
He asked with hatred and fear. Their shadows lined in the light, and the cold breeze blew as if their bodies got frozen in time. The tall cloaked entity never answered, standing there like a statue of ice, putting the cup atop the hearth, and leaning its hands together in its narrow waist. Salagor excused for the second time, but now he adjourned his stead for his boots to lightly step up to meet it. Going to the side he saw the curves of a woman, standing bright and beautiful. Her full breast shone clear while her dark hair slid its way inside the cups of the burnished chest garments.
Salagor: Akeleyde?
Lynax: A man speaks a terrible name.
The woman spoke softly from her red lips, picking the withered name from her throat [https://img.wattpad.com/d82349e8b116491906fd91cbc8666224eb0eb512/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f77397438313631674141714b4a773d3d2d313332333733333231352e313735336563646432363338313235643739393934313436303239392e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
The woman spoke softly from her red lips, picking the withered name from her throat. She slowly turned her head towards his curiosity as she spoke chilled like a carved head against a graveyard.
Salagor: How come will you say that? I bet you don't even know her as much as I do.
Lynax: I do not have time for an argument, Salagor Makaela. You are the last knight to ever brought the name of a butterfly with no use of its powers. Shameful. You chose to be in the guild of dreadful sea assassins with no purpose but to invade the islands, and pollute the waters which were the territory of another race.
Her words were like a spear, piercing the man's emotion with a sweet sense of ticking poison.
Salagor: What the hell are you talking about? I was asking about my repeated confinement, not the duty that I am sword to do.
Lynax: Hush! The door was open all the time, you just haven't got the power you're used to having. And now the gift is inside you, it embraces you forever until you meet your ancestors above.
The woman turned to him, gracious as a goddess she looked. Salagor was taken aback by her enormous beauty and the aura's magnificence he felt from her warm skin. Lynax lifted her hands above her breast, and there she cast a bright shadow of dust in between her open palm. The colored clouds carry numerous twinkling lights that are dancing like several little pebbles as bright as a star.
Lynax: These are the wisps of fate, and they were about to tell you something. Something that will cause you to use the power you didn't contain before.
Suddenly, the knight of the butterflies was aghast by what he saw. His arms were smeared with glowing lines, and he can feel his veins grow warm without bringing wrath upon himself. As the cloud swirls more, the wisps slow down, then they tether themselves with a line that connects one another to form a distorted symbol greater than the dusted smoke.
Lynax: The radiance of your magic binds with the guardians of your fate.
Salagor: And what are they telling me then?
Lynax: Look closely but do not focus on one thing. Open your mind. Open your ears, listen carefully, and you'll perceive the message.
The gaze he made littered the dust several moments before the tether broke, then the stars changed their course and created another constellation. This time, the beating hearts of cold was moving, mimicking an image of flapping wings. He notices a little star beneath the swinging feather, a black one, smoking with a dark twisting flame that conjures the nebular beauty dancing above.
Lynax: A single coil passes the light, and in its moment holds its breath to face a creature born from the other ancient land. You will be a part of it Salagor, always be ready for what is to come, as your ancestors have said.
Salagor: Yes I do remember, and it is fascinating that you know all about this.
Lynax: I am one of the servants of the creators of the universe. The deity of Unvärs sent me to this land before the age of enigma, where their power was corrupted by their sibling, Runiron. Pure greed and hatred consumed him and we, their servants, whom they call the Unväreth, were sent by the God of Life to the world of Northrom where Runiron's curse was planted. They are still here, the four Unvärs unharmed, but not liberated.
Salagor: Hold, hold...I am confused, I have no time to perceive all that stuff. The black one below the white is...going nuts.
He focused harder than before, and there is a strange reaction within the empty color beneath the stars.
The dark wisp is illuminated with different hues of colors like a pillar of creation. The sound was merely deafening but merciful. It was deep, close, and unyielding as if he was under the sea again while joining the deathly warfare. Throughout his fascination, a sudden disruption came along his ears like a point drop of a fiery blast. There he heard a horrifying whisper of overwrought waves of terror, slipping away through the mouths of many people below the citadel, and away from the blinking window. His drastic concern received the bellowed cries from men.
And below the grim skies and the blanket of stars, the smoke of shouting fills the windy planes with melancholy and sorrow. Then there he saw at the altar were the toggling cables wrapped around its solid skin, made from wooden threads that are woven by skillful weavers. The various ropes tested their might to bring down the peaceful, silent, but prideful sculpture of the crow's power within the black nest. The stone that is under control, body half-carved, unpolished, and undone was wrapped with three oil-black thick ropes, gripped by a strong clad of hands from start to end in the swarm of protesting people. The voice came ringing like a shattering glass beneath the dry floor of the city of Selizel, the roaring horde then started a stampede that shook the entire foundations of the fortress worst than before.
Lynax: You know what to do now, the people are calling you not by name, but by the act. Remember, Salagor... You freed yourself from the chains of the Prince when he puts you on trial with the grand master, but now, it is your time to free the people from the chains of ignorance.
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Upon his wintry hands, cold as ice, sprung a spring of light that came from the dawn of the summer. The wisps of fate she puts out of sight, under the roof of her palms, switched into him, the radiance from his hands was bright and singing, singing a song coming from the sleeping sun. Lynax standing across the pivot of the fire and through the tunnel without light, nods and signals to pass through the depths towards the chasm of his oath to allegiance. The knight leaped behind the times of fantasy and ran through the gloom of spiral darkness, descending, rushing with a cold sweat and a fast-beating heart. The growls and shouting, the explosion of fiery mystery made him extremely unpleasant, and by that, he passed through one of the open rooms near the entrance of the kitchen hoping to get a glimpse of what is happening down the Castle.
He peered and saw no presence of peace down the sizing fire that blew wild, allowing the blood lust for the guarding warriors to have no choice but to seize the traitors, and separate those who do not harm. The sworn brotherhood of steel takes no distinction between heroes and murderers, they were killing them all, and wonders why the eons of the natural world become cruel and unstable. Salagor wasted time, he warp himself back to the void and descended the steps of the unknowing revisiting the raging light. The horrid distress has brought up to him, barrels of black oil were spilled intentionally, being ignited by torch fire and making them act as a bomb to the opposing side. He spared himself from repose and marched quickly at the heated protest of the revolutionaries at the vanguard of the undying fire.
City Guard: Don't you ever do something bad out there young man. You must surrender your sword to me, now!
Salagor: Surrender!? Mine is in the sheath, and you are holding a sword here killing children and women and yet you think I will do it too? Go fuck yourself!
The guard then wielded the blood-stained blade across the sky, but the butterfly is quick enough to refract the deadly shadow under the smoke. No matter the overtures of peace he made, the knight comes to kill him but the sword shattered as the butterfly defended himself from the fiend. The sword shifted into molten steel like lava upon a volcano, the man was merely astonished until a horse came galloping through the path; crushing his body with tons of weight from the leaping beast.
The cries of people soon started to get louder and louder until all that could be heard was the deafening noise of pure destruction in the peaceful land of the capitol. People from houses along the street ran out from their twilight fealty onto the road and huddled together to witness a roaring fire, the savage catastrophe crushed the house of a family living nearby. The owners of the house attempted to remove valuable and sentimental items in despair, but all was in vain as the blinding fire obliterated their irreplaceable home. The city air was devoured by the smoke of scorching blazes in the middle of the winter's cold.
Salagor stood alone, pointless was his presence when he does not know the puzzle yet to be solved. There he saw in between the statue that is slowly beginning to crumble from the numerous pulling ropes, the horde started to build a hill of dismantled wood, forming a sharp summit of power from the opposing reformers facing the Selizel's lonely castle. The devastating clashes of debris and the embers flying like darts of phoenix coming from the resting sky came aloft, while the people still barring the peace upon the land.
Salagor: What the hell is going on?
Whispering, unable to determine the cause of the cries and incapable of assessing the power he possesses. The light within his arms was bright like the eyes of the grand master he is formerly known for taking his life. The heatwaves came steaming up his arms, but he did not feel a single pain yet the pleasure of one's mysterious blessing. Both the essence of life and the taste of bittersweet omens of death touched him well enough to make the next move, but little did he pass through the gaps of the raging stampede.
When the people climbed up the ugly and disoriented pieces of the wooden hill, the fighting yells of city inhabitants echoed throughout the open ground while taking up the armaments that are hungry for blood.
Reformists: Bring your brother back you little scum! Our resources are not yours to take. ALL HAIL RAVEN THE KING!!!
ALL HAIL RAVEN THE KING!
The daggers, farming scythe, axes, sickles and hatchets, and several other pointed thorns made by hand have gone swirling up the mist of destruction.
Reformists: Those who shall come to follow, must follow! For those who come to beg, kneel! We must forever conduct our struggles on the high plane of dignity! FOR SELIZEL AND THE COUNTRY!
Reformists: Those who shall come to follow, must follow! For those who come to beg, kneel! We must forever conduct our struggles on the high plane of dignity! FOR SELIZEL AND THE COUNTRY! [https://img.wattpad.com/ce39a71ec85e14d509e0adb89c292ccd2362893e/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f486563564653705f5076696e76513d3d2d313332333733333231352e313735366266386437663661323464353333363634323532353030332e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
The devastating columns of the horde marched, and they thundered out their chants of wild hunger for liberty upon the hands of the wrong-acting ruler (as they would believe). When the link of lightning struck the stone raven, the fragments decayed and silence conquered them at last. In front of them are the city guards lined in a row of spears pointing at the wooden barricade. Salagor watched behind the knights, biding one's time to watch the revelation of nature's vexation. A menacing mirror of the storm was sworn to abide by the wishes of the city, its shadow swarmed through the air, seemingly having the scent of the smoke for which it follows through its gaps. And when the black heavens made another streak of pulsing bold light, it disintegrated the mark of its enemies while the thunder resonated deep within their bones.
There behind the walls of darkness, behind the surpassing men above the timber obstruction of trashes and furniture; there were two orbs of white light, either two moons or two stars, came towering and blinking upon the top of the storm. An entity of such size constrains the fire with a burst of wind, killing the fire with a single landing, halting the gratitude for peace to arrive.
The lack of life to break the deafness with thunder's roaring promise of ever-quenching rain and the deep heavy breathing of the creature that lurks around without a stomping sound. The totality of the watchers rose their heads up to see the scaly, glassy-looking body, with an immense claw on its feet, and large wings that reflected the indistinct city like an accursed broken mirror.
The totality of the watchers rose their heads up to see the scaly, glassy-looking body, with an immense claw on its feet, and large wings that reflected the indistinct city like an accursed broken mirror [https://img.wattpad.com/f923257d299e9e42f43fd6cd53c9366e6329016b/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f356439624f6c346652472d3242413d3d2d313332333733333231352e313735376435373836646666323530653539373331393932373535392e706e67?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Then the monster took its facial form when it took shelter below the sundered moonlight. The punishing cold of its breathing was like a frozen bite of winter, but the shadow-like rows of sharp teeth struck themselves with a link of lightning when the presence of the monster goes near.
Salagor: The dragon of Rio Hallery. The enormous storm beast they call Verglas. What does she need here?
Salagor whispered and took a good hard look for the person who mounted atop the silent dragon, it was indeed the King's rival in a white coat over a hood. In a strange outburst the people were hypnotized by the creature's presence; standing frozen and rotating wherever it goes, their eyes followed the dragon's, silent still, and the iron upon their hands was down to the ground.
Rio: I came here to cease the noise for which it turns to your soul, a chaotic one, wasn't it?
Salagor: What did you do to them?
Rio: She wishes to create heroic lore just as you wanted to. Don't you worry, everything will be reconsidered when we leave here. But for now, let them listen or I'll also turn the curse on you.
Salagor: A curse?
Rio: A natural presence of an upcoming storm, indeed it is a curing curse for a crumbling city. I don't want Selizel to experience what happened in Egareth, spewing fire and spilling blood.
Salagor: It is a reformation, there is something wrong with the ruling succession, and people wanted to make a change about the Prince's temporary reign.
The silence was lonely at their confrontation, a constant companion nonetheless of their innermost intent. The knight made his way in front of the dragon, blankly staring at him with a flaming eye, mouth opened without the sound of a roar, but a deafening burst of winter wind coming from its cold throat. Salagor never flinched, even though he was surprised, but he kept his merriment for the magic he possesses inside his heart and faced her with the prowess of courage.
Rio: I see, the Raven is down to the ground, but I am confused whose who is being hated. Now, where is the King's brother? King Raven sent him a letter, and I demand a response immediately.
Prince Aagal: What does...my brother want?
There from the castle door, the prince stepped slowly, clothed in gold with a hue of red like bathed on blood, with hands behind his back together with the dark sorceress, Lady Lynax of the Unvär.
Rio: My Prince, it is a pleasure. But before I give you the demands of your brother, what have you done to these people for them to bring peril before this land?
Prince Aagal: Bringing off what is needed to be done is none of your business, my Lady. And this useless, irrelevant protesting is what I don't care about.
Salagor: They distrusted you for something that you've done. That something is what you don't care about saying because you fear what your brother is going to say!
The knight within the circle blasted a word like a speeding arrow, but only a smirk from the prince was the reply. He observed the surrounding in his stead, odd and gloomy. Amongst all the people that are bounded by the curse has shown many angered figures. Face curved with wrath, clutching the hilt of their weapons harder, thinking about charging through the open gates of the castle, but they were unable to move by the magical presence of Verglas and its mount.
Prince Aagal: What is it that my brother wants? I have no time for any discussion at this point because I want this mess to be cleaned before dawn.
Lady Commander Rio Hallery threw the small scroll towards the Prince, he never bothered catching it, but took it up from the floor. He opened the scroll in front of them, folding strong from the unstable dancing wind, planting much lightning from the mountains that are leagues away from the ruined capitol. It took some time for the prince to finish the note before he laughed in force of halting. He threw the scroll back to the face of the silent dragon, but the intent was for the lady rider. The sickening fear surges harder when the storm broke and the dragon flew high. The noise grows from the deathly silence below, then as the dragon ascended higher, the curse is slowly lifted from people and their nerves felt the warmth once more.
The avalanche of the horde made the floor got burnished with entrails of sickly odor rising from it. Many of the protesters got trampled in the stampede. The capital of death was filled up with keening and caterwauling sounds as the sodden earth became oily with wasted blood. The cellar-black sky watched the thunder roll beyond the living fires of the city crusaders.
Lynax: This moment is yours, Salagor.
Salagor's sense of hearing got in a dim close space, as if he was under the prototype of the sea, again and again. And she heard the voice of Lynax, whispering in his ears even though he saw that she was distant from his stead, bolting into the castle, barring the door. It was carnage, the slithering sounds of many breaking spears and swords being unsheathed were marked in his mind when he defended the first King of the Stallify, but he seems to be on the edge of his sword when a dragon above hinted a light from its throat.
Lynax: Lift your sword, and let the radiance of the magic be with it.
Her voice goes on, and therefore he trusted a guardian from the servants of the deities. At the end of the sword, the light within his arms shrunk and shifted through the cold steel. The white flames crawled and when all the powers of the wisps had gathered, a bursting ray from its tip poured out and it formed a dome-like shield that covers the whole mass of the horde, knight guards, and the entirety of the castle with it.
The glimmering magic never let the lightning strike from the dragon's mouth penetrate the shield, but to return the favor of sorcery to its master [https://img.wattpad.com/b0f2388d379bf98477bee8bcfedff145a4191f97/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6b4e6e544c5635423973566b72513d3d2d313332333733333231352e3137353765303363373161653230663239303238373136363930302e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
The glimmering magic never let the lightning strike from the dragon's mouth penetrate the shield, but to return the favor of sorcery to its master. The threatening instinct of one mythical creature had failed to obey its intent; to destroy the one who threatens it.
Verglas' glass-like skin refracted the light of the dome, thus having the blinding rays of it pierce through its eye. The large creature has gone on an agitating pain, swerving against the field and the walls of the city. Stomping, and clawing its eyes with his winged limbs. Without the knight giving care, the reformists smashed through their alignment of spear and has gone towards the other castle gates. The shattering of the dense gate revealed the hoarded possessions, resources, and especially, the bright gold surfing from the hole. And there, from the field of blood and gore, hundreds of people ran towards the scattered gold, leaving the shrinking shield behind while the dragon left for its home.