“When dawn broke, Gunmar could feel the light dance merrily across his face under a pleasant sprinkling of rain. The snow and frosts receded for what felt like the first time in weeks. Yet even as the sun beat a prideful path in the skin, even as he saw Aurelia rushing towards him in the distance. When he looked around, all he could see was the blooded snow and the fallen form of his brother. Though victorious, he felt little joy. There was no honour in this fight, no purpose besides the senseless stubbornness that took hold of both of them. His brother served the darkness, but even still, he could not tell if the tears on his face stemmed from regret or sadness. “I’m sorry, brother.” He whispered before he shut the eyes of the fallen, “May you find peace in the great beyond. May we meet again in a land more pleasant than this. Farewell.” ”
- Gunmar and Aurelia, Volume 18, “Beyond the White Frost”
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Sophie staggered backwards, her eyes never leaving her opponent. With a snarl, she launched herself back into the fray, her blade clanging against Osgil’s scimitar-like weapon. The knight pulled back and swung at her with his shield, Sophie going with the blow and dodged by moving with it. She found an opening and swung her free hand at him, smacking him with the second Myndiri cylinder that she pulled out of her pocket. Though it was only a small thud, the blunt object seemed to bewilder him just enough that Sophie could launch a renewed assault. Sophie lashed out with her sword and cleaved at his neck, only for him to bring his scimitar back down and cut deeply below her breasts.
Surprised and in pain, Sophie lost her focus and her blade slapped helplessly against his pauldrons instead, the man giving her a mighty kick that sent her flying backwards onto the ground. This time she couldn’t help it, the slash had been deep and blood flowed freely from it. She cried out in pain, whimpering as she hastily crawled away. With every movement she made, she bled more and more, her green tunic now soaked a deep brown red as she desperately tried to stave off the inevitable.
Somehow, she managed to get back on her feet, her sword arm pointing the now wobbling blade at the approaching knight. With one hand on her wounds, she pressed on regardless, thrusting forward pointlessly in an attempt to buy herself more time. Osgil seemed more than content to simply back away or block every blow, cruelly letting her waste what little energy she had.
For once she cursed her voidborne healing factor. It had given her just that much more confidence in herself that she had been more than reckless as of late. Yet it also had a flaw, it was a healing factor that acted over time, not instantly like some divine magicks. In turn, though she hoped otherwise, she was left with the sinking feeling that even though mana still circulated throughout her body, it would be practically useless in the context of this fight. But that doesn’t matter, focus only on the here and now, do not let my distractions take over.
Sensing her momentary lapse of concentration, Osgil launched an attack that saw him trying to simply cleave her in two. Sophie barely responded in time and narrowly avoided being bisected, leaping back unsteadily to escape the blow. Osgil followed up with more slashes against her; Sophie choosing to try to avoid most of them as in a straight block with her blade, he was infinitely stronger.
Sophie howled as the last of his blows bit into her sword arm. Sophie yanked herself out of its grip and tried her best to maintain her grip onto her sword. Trying to avoid any follow ups, she tried to backpedal some more for the debilitating pain to distract her, causing one steady foot to block the other, sending her tumbling to the ground. Perhaps having sensed his victory was close, Osgil reared up for a finishing blow. Sophie helplessly watched as the scimitar was lifted high above her head, her arms reflexively trying to protect her. As it descended, she whimpered and closed her eyes, awaiting the ever so familiar journey between life and death.
Pain erupted from her nose as she punched herself, her fist slamming into her under the pressure of the attack. Huh? Sophie had flinched from the blow but now her eyes gingerly opened in curiosity, her confused gaze finding an equally bewildered Osgil. A strange phantasmal light shimmered where his blade met her arm and she noticed how the cylinder had disappeared from her hand. At some point it slid onto her wrist like a bracelet and now somehow protected her. Not thinking too much about it, she quickly brought her injured sword arm to bear and jabbed her sword straight through the armpit opening in Osgil’s shield arm.
The knight broke off his attack and recoiled in pain, cursing and screaming in some foreign language. The opening allowed Sophie to hurriedly crawl away before wearily pushing herself back up to her feet again. With Osgil examining his wound and ripping her sword out. Sophie spent the moment staring at the strange Myndiri artifact that had become her shield. The metallic cylinder had evidently been part of the outer shell of the device, retracting and shifting until it exposed the cylinder’s core. Briefly closing her eyes, she could feel the device hum with energy as it sucked up the extraneous mana still left over within her body.
When she cast a small glance over at the gathered crowd, she could sense similar looks of confusion or bewilderment present. At least, what she assumed was confusion judging by their demeanour mimicking the shock that the Direktor was displaying.
“Blood magic… of course! Blood would’ve been the key!” He absently talked to himself.
Huh. If only I didn’t have to be dying just to use this. She grumbled. Bringing herself back to the fight, she found a second problem had appeared. She was now thoroughly weaponless. Her mind wandered to the last cylinder within her pockets, the dark impulse within her telling her to use it as well.
Osgil’s grunt broke her musings and she braced herself with the shield, awkwardly moving the phantasmal looking thing into potion. The knight seemed to be enraged and charged at her without a thought, entering what she could assume was a berserker rage. His blows grew slower and more measured, but the force behind every swing of his scimitar worried her. She had tried to block one blow and almost crumpled completely even when it merely glanced against the shield. It’ll help, but not that much.
She staggered around the makeshift arena, trying her best to keep her body functioning in spite of the pain. Blood continued to spill from her wounds and she grit her teeth in frustration at the futility of her efforts. Focus… ngh….focus. Almost unable to reassume her defensive stance, she could feel the tingling of madness at the edge of her sanity. She had few options left, the fight needed to end now or she’d be done for. She’d have to pick her moment correctly, to use what energy she had left to land one definitive hit. But how?
A loud roar proved to be the moment she sought. One of the four trolls let loose a roar that shook the whole cave, a light dusting of stone dust shaken loose by the agonized cry. The lull in the fight allowed them all to hear the distinctive sounds of fighting and spells being cast somewhere down by the south. The expedition! They’re here!
Snarling with a renewed sense of hope, Sophie used the few seconds she gained to immediately charge forward, throwing herself at the knight in a frenzy. She based recklessly with her phantasmal shield, still getting surprised every time that it made contact against his. Forcing him to remain on the defensive, she aimed to break his guard and eventually land a hit in. Unfortunately, once he caught on to her plan, she jolted to a halt as he suddenly retaliated with a shield bash of his own, cutting off her momentum.
Taking a few steps backwards, she accidentally opened up her flanks to an attack and felt the wrath of his scimitar as her shield was locked against his. Though it was only a glancing blow, Sophie could feel her tender skin begin to bleed a little, both her arms screaming in pain. Plan… plan, plan, need a plan. Dammit, think, focus, think, do something. Ah! She gasped in shock as she had dodged a scimitar blow by ducking past it, only for his shield to smash directly into her back. She could feel the bruising and shattering of bone somewhere, her vision going fuzzy for a second as pain overwhelmed her.
Something within her snapped, triggered by the agony she felt, rationality faded as a low growl escaped her lips. The fight ends here. Absorbing the blow in its entirety, she used the staggering blow to propel herself forward before spinning back around and smacked him upside the head with the tip of her shield. Seeing the knight being brought to a stop, Sophie seized the initiative and baited out a shield bash as she charged in from the right. With his torso opening up for an attack, Sophie howled with pain as his scimitar bit into her sides again. Seeing her chance, she waited until he tried to smash her from the other side with his shield arm. In that instant, she turned her shield sideways and aimed the tip directly at his elbow. Bracing herself, Sophie grunted under his blow but moved just enough so that his own weight would be added to her attack. A sickening crack soon followed and Sophie’s shield was nearly ripped clean from her arm as the knight recoiled and threw her off of him.
His sword arm had been temporarily disabled and Sophie saw her chance. Though her methods would be cruel, she had no other choices left. She sprinted directly at him, allowing herself to be blocked by a shield just so that she could grapple it and hold onto him. With his sword arm still recovering, Sophie had enough time to manoeuvre her hands over his. Trapped by the shield straps, he couldn't wiggle free in time before Sophie yanked just enough of his glove away to let her fingertips touch the knight's strangely cold and flaky skin. Looking directly at him, she called forth the void within.
At first he didn’t react much, still trying to pry her off. But then, the agonised visceral screams that left his mouth would etch themselves onto her soul. She had remembered Aryana and the Inquisitor’s debriefing about her encounter with the monster of the Great Library, how she had unknowingly disrupted its concealment ritual. She also knew that most life had mana within it, the absence of which might provoke dire consequences depending on the lifeform. For people, it usually just meant a sense of discomfort. For those enchanted with magic however, the consequences could be debilitating.
She clung on with a death grip even as his panicked movements now saw him screaming and slamming her against some nearby rubble. Scraping off some of the skin on her arm and jostling all her bones with every slam. He was trying desperately to shake her off and more than once she found herself being head butted by his armoured helmet. The metal made her ears ring and she almost lost consciousness from the pain. But it was too late, his earlier moments of hesitation had cost him. Sophie could feel the steady draining of mana; the panicked movements slowing down as whatever enchantments and spells that kept him functioning began to fail. If Sophie had heard the unmarked knight correctly; this was centuries of work going to waste in the course of a minute.
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So devastating had the effect been, that when Sophie was finally thrown off, it was her own pain that forced her to release him. She skidded against the cobble streets after a nasty throw, her own wounds now crying out as the gritty fight had tore them open even larger. But still, she managed to stand back up, her phantasmal shield now glowing a soft ethereal white and blue when buoyed by the influx of new mana. Swaying uneasily on her feet, she watched as her opponent looked ready to attack once more, only to seemingly give up and drop to his knees with a heavy clank.
With what little strength he could muster, he threw off his helmet and for the first time Sophie could see what they actually were. He was a person, that much was certain. But unlike other humanoids she was used to, his pupils were dyed a sickly yellow, as if they were far beyond the process of aging. His skin too, half reflected a more tawny skin tone with normal skin, with the other half being the gaunt remnants of something. She could only watch as his skin simply started peeling off, crumbling into dust before it hit the floor as time seemed to catch up.
Not willing to let the opportunity pass, she scrambled over to retrieve her sword, snatching it up from the ground and relishing the familiar feeling of it being back in her hands once again. Armed once again, she turned back to find the knight still kneeling there, staring up at the cavern ceiling and muttering to himself in the strange language. Upon seeing her approach, he seemed to take on a resigned look as he stared at her. A soft nod and Sophie could now read the expression behind his eyes. It was time for the duel to end.
Without his enchantments he seemed unable to continue, that much seemed clear to the both of them. Ignoring the mutterings and ever increasing sounds of trolls and battle, Sophie steadied her own degrading physique and lifted the Lion’s Mane.
“Affreng mikh ats eyternam nakte” He murmured tiredly at her, his eyes closing in anticipation of the strike.
Sophie froze, blinking back the strange sensations that now crept up within her mind. Her blade trembled uneasily as she felt her chest tighten and her vision grow blurry. Bring me to the eternal night, her mind had translated his words. They rang around her head incessantly and she wobbled in place, a searing pain tearing through her soul. On the verge of screaming from the discomfort, she bit down on her lip and clenched her eyes shut, praying that the pain would disappear.
When her eyes opened once again, she could see the flashes of something trying to materialize in front of her. Moments lost to time as thousands of lights, feelings, and garbled messes passed her by. Sophie was left frozen in place, stuck somewhere between shock and sheer madness. Something was trying to claw its way out of her head. Her skull threatened to explode from the feeling. But just before she was about to throw her sword away and cry from the agony, it stopped.
A soft feeling of warmth and comfort wrapped itself around her, the sounds of something cooing in displeasure echoing nearby. Bewildered, she simply remained still as a shadowy figure materialised beside her, looking down at something before reaching over to stroke it. Despite the apparition not touching her at all, Sophie felt a touch so gentle across her cheek that she almost sobbed at the sensation. Amidst it all, she could make out one word before the vision in her mind’s eye vanished and she was back in the middle of the ruined cavern settlement.
“Shlanum terhene.” She whispered absently at the fading apparition. Sleep well.
As her voice echoed out, she could hear the sudden shifting of armour plates as the knights nearby seemed to tense up. Looking down, she found Osgil staring up at her with a mixture of surprise and acceptance. Letting the moment guide her, she raised the sword back up once more. The decaying knight stared at her wordlessly for another few seconds before nodding and using whatever strength he had left to lift his arms into the air as if in prayer, his head bowed low to expose his rotting neck.
Sophie swung down with full force. His brittle skull shattered under the blow, turning into a fine dust that scattered across the ground below. With a thud, the rest of his metallic form collapsed soon after. Tired, exhausted and physically on the verge of shutting down, Sophie let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. Finally taking a chance to look at her surroundings, she found most of the dark knights staring at her. Though their faces were hidden by their helmets, she could feel the tension in their ranks as they watched her.
Everyone simply stood in silence for a moment or two. A strange calm descending over this makeshift arena before the cries of a troll perishing nearby disturbed the peace. At that, the unmarked knight barked some orders, his sharp tone cutting through the quiet. The gathered dark knights slowly began filtering out, and before the Direktor could protest, the unmarked knight had another one simply drag the cultist away with them. Slowly the area emptied until she found herself and the unmarked knight the sole remaining occupants.
His deliberate, heavy footsteps unnerved her but she stood her ground. She had no more energy left to run or fight. She watched as he approached, stopping just out of sword reach and kneeling down to whisper a few words to Osgil’s corpse. Sensing no outward threat, she tried to sheathe her sword only to find her hand shaking so tremendously that she couldn’t. While she fumbled around, the knight had stood back up and now loomed at least two heads above her.
“Who are you?” He asked, his voice displaying no discernible changes in inflections or tones.
“Sophie…” She croaked, unaware of just how hoarse her throat had been from screaming until now, “The Lily Knight.”
“Hmm.” He seemed to lean down a little, “And just why does a despoiler like you speak the words of my people?” He growled.
Sophie shrugged, too tired to respond properly. “That's what came to mind.”
The knight muttered something in his own language once more and waited for a reaction. When it was clear she didn’t understand, he seemed almost disappointed. “Why do you know that phrase? The one you spoke before his death.”
“It…” She sighed, “He said something to me. it made me remember something. But it was all blurry, that’s all I got out of it.”
He seemed accepting if a bit dissatisfied by her answer. He then grabbed something from the corpse and faced her once again. “Still, to have heard such a phrase before. There is definitely something strange about you.” He uttered half heartedly before starting to walk away, "You have questions, yes? Come with me, we might have the answers you seek."
Answers… that I seek? “About the Myndir and… and the starstones and the Gods?”
“Hmm, yes. Of the former at least, we have plenty.”
Sophie spent a moment wondering if this was what everything was supposed to lead to. That by defeating one of those who haunted her nightmares, she had proven herself worthy of learning more. Yet, she also recalled their destination, Gratia. A land east of the empire and one far from the Academy and her friends. And… Ary. She’d probably be so mad if I just upped and left. Though it’d probably keep her safe. But... Sophie looked down at her trembling hands, it'd be nice if I could hold her again. Meeting the knight's expectant gaze, she shook her head.
The unmarked knight gave her a curious look but nodded, “It matters not. Though, is what the cultist said about you true? He told me that you’ve already interfered before?”
Sophie nodded reluctantly.
"Twice already?"
Another nod.
“Hah." He chuckled dryly, "Then it is likely that we shall meet again. For the strings of fate seemed to have to bound your fate to ous. And if not them... then I suppose we all have questions that we want anwsered. How interesting.”
“You’re not just going to take me?” She asked, a little surprised.
He seemed to consider this for a brief moment before turning away, “It would be possible, but pointless. You would try to escape regardless. That would be a nuisance. We are unlike your kind, despoiler. We will be waiting. Farewell, despoiler.”
Despoiler? What is that supposed to even mean?
Without another word he walked away. By the time Sophie blinked and shook herself out of her stupor, he had already disappeared into the rubble strewn streets. That left Sophie alone in the arena, the sound of fighting growing closer as the expedition likely now pushed through the town. Allowing the exhaustion to finally overtake her, she sighed deeply and took in a few deep breaths to calm herself.
She gave herself a moment to process everything, taking the time to finally push her blade into the sheathe, her hands now left to tremble uncontrollably without the blade. Stepping away from the body, she gathered the other cylinder that had been thrown during the fight and put it away. With all three relics now secured, she had one last thing to check up on before the expedition found her. Forcing herself to move, she made her way towards the town square, intent on at least sequestering one piece of the star stone.
Dragging herself through the ruined town, she felt a great sense of sadness take hold. There had been so much destruction and loss. Though she had done it for the greater good, preventing what would’ve likely been the swarm of knights ravaging the countryside, she felt almost empty inside. The fight was already over, she had done her part. Yet there had been so many innocents lost, so many people who suffered, and not only that, but she had taken human life once again. This time there would be no justification, no pretending that it wasn’t her fault like the battle sacrifices in the Barrows or letting the Lemurach bring chaos to the surviving Meltonian nobles. No, she knew that this time, her hands were well and truly stained with the sins of her actions. That there was no more room for excuses.
She arrived at the town square and balked at what she found. When she had awoken earlier, her mind had been in a haze, barely perceiving the true horror of what she had done. Without danger though, this felt more like surveying the scene of a disaster. Bodies were strewn about the place without care, the piles of corpses adding to the depressive sight. Everything was a ruined mess and whatever majesty came with being in such an ancient place was dashed by the sheer scale of the devastation that had befallen it.
Finding only a handful of crystal fragments remaining, she gingerly scooped them up, eyeing them warily as she shoved them into her pockets. Alone amongst all the bodies, Sophie set herself down in the empty spot where the crystal used to be. She leaned against the cold stone fixture and let all the tension leave her body. Closing her eyes, she listened to the sounds of a troll’s dying cries in the distance, the sound of spells and battle, and her own erratic breaths.
She felt calm, almost serene in the moment. But when the dark thoughts began to creep in, she felt the involuntary tears begin streaming down her face as she tried to clutch her hands together. She hated it, hated the feeling of killing and worse still, of how natural it had felt to her. Sophie was disgusted by the idea that within her, there was a part of her that could take a life so casually as she had, that it was a monster that operated on instinct. Feeling more afraid and alone than ever, she eventually let her emotions take hold as a wave of guilt spilled forth from within. She let out a visceral scream as she sobbed. She prayed that somewhere along the way, she would be forgiven for all the horror she had wrought.