Novels2Search
Avalon
Chapter 2: Revival

Chapter 2: Revival

Some moments prior…

A dark abyss stretched in front of the young man as far as the eye could see or at least, what he could see. The inky blackness seemed to swallow all light, leaving only a faint, eerie glow from the ground beneath his feet. He squinted, trying to make out any shapes or landmarks in the distance, but there was nothing—just an endless void.

He wasn't sure how he had gotten here, just appearing in it and not knowing where he was. Granted, he didn't even know where he was from. The only thing that he knew was that he was standing in a black abyss and that he was confused as hell.

While he had been wondering what was going on, he had been standing still and without really noticing, he took a step forward. It was like walking on a water bed and in a moment, he was flailing on the ground as he thought he was falling.

His heart raced, and he struggled to find his footing. The ground felt strange beneath him, not solid like earth or rock but strange, almost like rubber. He pushed himself up, hands sinking slightly into the surface before he managed to stand. His breathing was heavy, a mix of panic and confusion, as he tried to regain his composure.

“What the hell is this place?” he yelled as he began to slowly walk forward, trying his hardest to not fall and freak himself out more than he already was. His voice echoed in the vast emptiness, his question still ringing out long after he said it.

Each step was a challenge, the ground beneath him shifting unpredictably. He focused on keeping his balance, taking one cautious step at a time. Eventually, he had gotten used to the uneven ground and was just sort of bouncing along like he was walking on a trampoline. As he adjusted to this peculiar way of moving, his initial fear began to subside, replaced by a cautious curiosity.

He wasn't moving in a specific direction anymore, not that he could tell anyway, but instead was just bouncing along seeing if he could find anything. It was a long time, for how long he wasn't sure until he finally found something.

Off in the distance and lying on top of the darkness was a body, horribly burnt yet still alive. The figure lay motionless at first, the charred remnants of what once was human flesh barely clinging to its form. The young man felt a chill run down his spine as he cautiously approached, the air around the body thick with the acrid smell of burnt flesh.

He hesitated for a moment, then continued forward, driven by both curiosity and concern. As he drew nearer, he could see the faint rise and fall of the figure's chest, indicating that they were still breathing. The sight was horrifying but the young man knew he couldn't just leave the person alone by themselves.

The young man knelt beside the body, unsure of what to do. "Can you hear me?" he asked softly, his voice echoing slightly in the space. There was no immediate response, but after a moment, the figure's eyes flickered open, revealing a pair of dark, haunted eyes. The figure's mouth moved, forming barely audible words.

“My…lord…”

The young man felt confused. "I'm not your lord," he replied, his voice gentle but firm. "I'm just trying to help you. What happened to you?"

The figure struggled to speak, each word a painful effort. "The templar... he stopped…the ritual... I failed... my lord...forgive me…"

The young man looked down at him, still confused. Templar? Ritual? What the hell is this man even talking about anymore? Around the burnt man’s body, a black substance oozed from his open wounds, leaking into the abyss below him. They almost looked like small waterfalls and the young man found himself staring at them before shaking his head. He looked down at the burnt man who was just talking to himself now, not even paying attention to the young man anymore.

“Oh…But I…I showed him…you can't kill…a wizard so easily…” he wheezed as he gave a small chuckle, stopping when something snapped in his chest, presumably a rib or something. The young man was truly wondering how the man was even alive at this point with the amount of damage he had sustained through whatever he had done when he felt the man grip his hand.

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The young man looked down and saw that the burnt man was now just speaking gibberish as he held his hand, not even making much sense in what he was saying anymore.

"Kthoth…ka'ren salkura…,drath'en morn thal'ka," the burnt man muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

The young man felt a mix of pity and fear. He didn't know what to do or how to help this suffering soul. The black substance continued to ooze, even more so than before so he now looked as though he were being absorbed into the ground beneath him. He gently tried to pull his hand away, but the burnt man’s grip tightened, his eyes wild and unfocused.

"Veshara…kael thun'gar, naxen…khal'eth…mor'tha,"

The young man felt a chill run down his spine. He glanced around nervously, half-expecting something to emerge from the shadows. "What are you doing?" he asked, fear beginning to slowly creep its way into his voice. The burnt man did not respond as from above, chains made of blue flame rocketed down and latched onto his arms.

He gasped in shock as the chains tightened around his wrists, the searing heat of the flames making him wince in pain. Just as quickly as the chains came down, the chains began to pull him upwards, lifting him off the ground. He struggled against them, but their grip was unyielding. Panic surged through him as he dangled in the air, suspended by the fiery chains.

“What in the ever-loving fuck is going on right now!?!” he screamed as he was dragged into the sky. The burnt man was unresponsive on the ground as the young man vanished into the sky, only really moving once he was gone.

“Arise…Lord…of the…night, arise…our…ladies…champion…” he laughed as he descended into the darkness below, vanishing without a trace.

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The young man was pulled higher and higher into the sky, the abyss around him a blur of darkness and fiery blue light. He felt an overwhelming force pulling him as if he were being dragged at the speed of light. His thoughts raced, trying to comprehend what was even happening anymore, but everything was happening too fast for him to even understand.

He was spasming as he was pulled, He was spasming as he was pulled, his body convulsing uncontrollably under the intense pressure and heat of the blue flames. The pain was excruciating, his muscles contracting violently as if his very essence was being torn apart. He couldn't even scream; the air was forced from his lungs, leaving him gasping in silent agony. But as he was about to lose consciousness from the overload of stimuli around him, he braked and he braked hard. It was like running headfirst into a wall made of steel as he felt his entire body slam and fold into something very hard and very cold. He wasn't even what he had hit as he blacked almost instantly midthought.

When he finally came to, his head was pounding and his vision blurred to the point he might as well have been blind. Everything was white and blue and he couldn't even tell what was what anymore. He lay on the cold, stone ground, the world rotating above him back and forth in a confusing manner. Slowly, he pushed himself up, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through his body. Even after sitting up, the world was still rotating and it began to make him nauseous.

He looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The area was white and as he caught his bearings, he saw that he was surrounded by…snow. The young man paused as he looked at the mounds of snow and debris surrounding him. Right off the bat, he could tell that he was inside a church but just knowing that made him even more confused. Where was he and what was going on anymore? He tried to stand up, putting his hand on the ground when he stopped dead in his tracks.

His hand, or what should have been his hand, was nothing more than a skeletal claw. He stared at it, not fully processing what he was looking at before it dawned on him. He flexed his fingers, watching the skeletal joints move and the weird marking glow dark blue.

Panic surged through him, his mind racing to comprehend the nightmare he was living. He tried to breathe, though he realized with growing horror that he no longer had lungs to fill. The thought only intensified his terror. He stumbled backward, the skeletal claws that were now his hands shaking uncontrollably. "What is happening to me?!" he screamed, his voice sounding more like an inhuman roar as it echoed off the ruined walls of the church.

He frantically looked around, hoping to find something that would make sense of this twisted reality. But everywhere he turned, there was only destruction and snow. He could feel his sanity slipping, the shock of his transformation overwhelming him. "This can't be real," he whispered to himself, pacing around as he tried to steady his thoughts.

"This has to be a dream there is no way I became a skeleton this is legit impossible whatisevengoingonatthispointdeargod," he said to himself as he let loose a string of nonsense that even he couldn't understand. Eventually, he just stuck his head in a pile of snow like he was an ostrich. Now as for why he did this, he wasn't even sure himself, the thought of doing it came in a moment, and in a moment he did it, no questions asked. As the cold snow enveloped his skull, the shock of the icy sensation provided a strange, grounding effect. He could feel the chill seeping into his bones, and the physical sensation gave him something concrete to focus on. For the first time since waking up in this nightmarish state, he felt a semblance of calm beginning to settle over him, and with this calm came introspection.

The absurdity of his situation slowly began to sink in, and he realized that panicking would get him nowhere. He took a deep, steadying breath—or at least he tried to since he guessed he didn't need air anymore. The motion was enough to ground him, to remind him that he needed to think clearly if he was going to find any answers to whatever was going on.

He stood up, brushing the snow off his bones, he was pumped now and was ready to figure out what was going on before he stopped. Standing at the front of the church and somehow looking both horrified and stupidly pissed was a man wielding a goddamn flaming sword. He blinked, though he wasn't sure how he did that --- maybe a thought for later --- as a thought rolled through his head.

Oh No.