I have drenched my hands in blood one too many times to attempt to wash them clean. Xenocide, some of them now call me now. The butcher of an entire race. That is who I am. There is no such thing as setting things right. Not for me.

Excerpt from Of righteous Evil by Elusco, Bane of the Sadmora. Published in 540 a.f, banned throughout Ceraviehl in the same year. No known copies exist.

The Sphinx loomed over them, its huff sending a small breeze through the chamber. “You humans just keep getting up. By now, you must realize you can’t beat me. But come, let’s end this. I’ll grant you the first hit.”

Silas grinded his teeth. Despite him having just awakened another affinity, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. The Sphinx was just on another level of power. He wondered how Tom would have fared against it. How powerful was the old man, really? With Silas’ wounds partially healed, thin tendrils of shadow circling his body, and his spear in his hands, he took one last glance at his friends. “Anyone got a—”

Zaya sent the first rock hurling at the Sphinx’s face. Nurana sighed. “Guess that’s settled then,” came from his back.

Silas reached out to his new Art, shrouding himself in a coat of darkness. It felt clumsy, the ephemeral shadows slipping through his grasp each time his focus wavered. His stomach recoiled at his attempts to control the Taint present in his new Art, but Silas gulped it down again. Shame he didn’t have the time to properly practice his Art.

Heavy legs carried him towards the Sphinx. A paw lazily swiped at Zaya, her nimble form dancing around the attack as her fists struck out. Two spikes of stone were launched at the beast’s head, the rock shattering as it met its skin. Silas was almost upon the Sphinx by now. Faint wisps of green energy permeated the tip of his spear as he struck out. The weapon cut into the back of the Sphinx’s leg. He could see the muscles twitching as the beast kicked at him. Letting his body fall to the side, he swung upwards as the leg rushed past him, creating another shallow wound. Maybe he could whittle the Sphinx down, given enough time.

“Enough of this.”

A wave of power suddenly pushed Silas backwards as he felt the adrenaline surging through his body. Something was wrong. All around the Sphinx, splinters of glass began to materialize. Panels and mirrors floated around the Sphinx, reflecting Silas’ image back to him. For a heartbeat, he almost didn’t recognize the hunched figure looking back at him, darkness shrouding his form. Silas reached out to his shield.

Although Tom had once told him about Domains, seeing one from up close made him uneasy. Physical manifestations of one’s Arts, a Domain was something most practitioners could only hope to establish at the stage of an Aspect, if at all. The power it radiated was nearly overwhelming, reminding him once more that the Sphinx hadn’t even considered them a threat.

“If you have any tricks left, now is the time to—” the Sphinx began, only for its voice to be drowned out as a deep rumble shook the chamber. Huge chunks of stone crawled out of the walls. Zaya sent the first rock hurtling towards the Sphinx. Glass fractured into a hundred pieces, the rock evaporating as it breached the Sphinx’s Domain. More and more rocks followed, the walls seeming more fragile each time.

Looking at Zaya, Silas couldn’t help but feel a little awe. Eyes blazing, braid billowing behind her, she danced, each movement sending another attack at the Sphinx. It could have been his imagination, but Silas thought he could see a faint aura of violet surrounding her. A wide sweep from her leg sent a small spike at the creature’s belly, immediately followed by a jerk of her arm as a spear of stone erupted from the ground. She spread her arms wide, skin stretched over her taut muscles, sweat running down her body. She didn’t even notice her mangled hand, its fingers bent backwards.

The rumbling intensified, the walls left and right groaning in a cacophony of cracks as Zaya prepared her final attack. Emerald eyes met yellow slits as the noise reached its crescendo. Veins of purple shone through her beige skin as Zaya’s arms met in a sudden clap. Dozens of rocks, boulders, and spears were launched at the Sphinx’s massive body, some of them exploding as she pointed at them with her good arm.

Nurana caught Zaya as she collapsed, eyes hazy from pain and exertion. A cloud of dust obscured the Sphinx and for but a heartbeat, no one did so much as twitch. Finally, yellow eyes glared through the brown dust. A huff from the Sphinx dispersed the cloud, revealing its massive form, unharmed. While its Domain seemed to have shrunk a bit, the Sphinx hadn’t even received a scratch. “Not bad, for one so young as yourself. But this is the end.”

Silas began to run towards Zaya. He knew she wouldn’t have the energy to protect herself from the Sphinx’s attack. Blades of glass, glinting in the dim light, shot at Zaya with blinding speed. Too late. He sent his shield forward to block the attack but knew it wouldn’t be fast enough.

“Creak!” Gnarly hugged both Zaya and Nurana with both arms, his form once more enlarging as he covered both of them with a shield of wood. Pain flooded the bond as sharp glass embedded itself into the wood. It sliced the vines like paper, cracking into tiny pieces upon impact. Amber sap seeped from Gnarly’s wounds, the shards glistening as Gnarly unraveled himself. The soft splatters of the glass shards hitting the stone ground were torture to Silas’ ears. Spikes of agony shot through the bond. Tears rolled over his face as Gnarly sat down, his eyes weak as he looked up at him.

The facade of control Silas had so carefully crafted shattered, its fragile fundament eroded by the despair in Gnarly’s eyes. Silas couldn’t take it. Even though he knew Gnarly tried to keep it to himself, the sheer agony radiating through the bond completely dominated Silas’ senses. Propped on both knees, Gnarly’s body seemed to shimmer, the countless fragments of glass stuck in his body reflecting the weak light from above, viscous drops of golden sap flowing over the glistening shards before reluctantly dripping onto the cold stone ground.

They didn’t deserve this. Neither of them did, not Gnarly, not Zaya, nor Nurana. All of them had lost so much. Yet, in the face of supreme power, all of their sacrifices were for naught. Irrelevant, whisked away like a grain of sand caught in a relentless sandstorm. In the end, that’s what it all came down to. Power.

Rage began to boil within him, the scorching flames mixing with the searing pain coming from Gnarly. Silas raised his head, staring up at the Sphinx with pure hatred in his eyes.

“You won’t take,” he screamed, the shadows around him shuddering with power, “what little I have left!”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Silas’ feet moved of their own accord. His Inner Landscape, fueled by the awakening of his second Art, roared in response. Distant shouts hollered against his back, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. The shadows surrounding him sharpened, forming into tendrils of shadow that pointed at the Sphinx. He didn’t need concealment—he needed a weapon. Taking a hold of his emotions, Silas fed them to his Art, pouring all of his pain and rage into his intent to kill the Sphinx.

The darkness responded.

Shadows condensed into thin, long blades, the blackness so absolute they sucked up the light around him. Silas dashed right between the Sphinx’s legs. His spear guided the darkness, the green sheen enveloping its tip a solitary light among the dozens of ephemeral blades surrounding him. Where one strike of his spear landed, five more followed, the shadows cutting anything they came across.

Caught in his frenzy, Silas didn’t see the beast’s paw before it was too late. His grasp on his Art slipped, the wind rushing by his ears as he was tossed across the chamber. Something cracked as he landed and came to a standstill. His hands struggled to heave him up, slipping on the slick floor. Bits of skin dangled from his palm where he’d tried to soften his fall. Silas briefly wondered why they were so red. He raised his head, forcing down a whimper as he gazed up at the Sphinx.

It hadn’t even taken any real wounds. Small scratches could be seen where his shadows had hit it, but nothing more. He was too weak. The beast’s lazy eyes bore down on him. To his side, Zaya stood propped up on one knee, head hanging down. Gnarly was beside her, a weak smile on his lips, the gesture betraying how badly he was hurt. Apart from his physical wounds, something was deeply wrong with his friend.

Energy was steadily streaming out of Gnarly’s Landscape. The shell protecting his Landscape was broken, cracks having appeared all over it as Gnarly desperately fought to keep his energy inside. Silas’ throat constricted and tears welled up in his eyes. Gnarly shrunk down further in an attempt to preserve his energy.

Something tingled at Silas’ neck, an unnerving presence, a wrongness that made him turn his head. Nurana stood behind him, both her hands held in front of her. Between her palms, a writhing mass of blackness festered, taunting Silas with an image he could almost glimpse at.

From somewhere, distant voices screamed in his ears, their pleas dying as soon as Silas tore his eyes away. He shuddered. While he had first mistaken whatever was gathering between Nurana’s hands for shadows, he now knew how wrong he had been. Just looking at it made Silas’ skin crawl. Slithering tentacles reached out from within, crawling over Nurana’s hands to wrap themselves around her arms like leeches. Nurana’s arms shook as she strained to contain the foreign energy. Tentatively, they retracted again, condensing into a thick mass held between her palms. This was Nurana’s second Art—the Art of Death.

Letting out a final scream, Nurana pushed the ball forward and hurled it at the Sphinx. The beast, seeing the writhing mass of blackness approaching stared down at her, uncaring. As soon as Nurana’s attack encroached upon the Sphinx’s domain, it shriveled down, soon fading into nothingness. Nurana fell to her knees, panting.

“Thank you for the spar. But unfortunately for you, this is the end.”

Silas stood up, his mind racing as he tried to come up with something, anything to get them out of here. But it was too late for that, and he knew it. There was no escape. This wasn’t an enemy they could defeat. They never even stood a chance. Zaya and Nurana could barely stand, and Gnarly was so badly hurt Silas struggled to hold back his tears as he saw his friend sitting on the ground, defeated.

Silas’ gaze was unfocused for a few heartbeats until he his gaze settled onto the dome sitting just behind the Sphinx near the back wall. Some of the seams were already rusted, seeming to come apart at any given moment. Despite the poor state the catalyst was in, Silas could still sense the massive amount of contained energy within, its corruption slowly leaking into the chamber and the arsenal of tubes connected to it. This was where all the rampant energy in the Cursed Dunes came from. The source of the Taint, and the reason why most forms of life either died or mutated.

Silas’ eyes went wide as the realization hit him.

Of course. Earlier, he had wondered why the Sphinx never went far away from the dome. Now he knew why. Standing up, he drew his last arrow out of the quiver. He’d only have one shot at this, but one shot was all he needed. A slow smile crawled across his face. He finally knew what he had to do. Silas remembered Zaya’s makeshift bombs. How she had forced the unpent energy to be released, resulting in an explosion that belied its little form. Glancing towards his friends, he took one last look at Gnarly before he walled off his emotion. Gnarly would only try to stop him. Silas wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt.

Zaya’s emerald eyes met his, her piercing eyes having lost their focus. “Take care of him for me, will you?”

Confusion drew itself upon her sharp features. Smiling, Silas took out his bow as he ran towards the Sphinx. Back when he had still been under Tom’s tutelage, he’d tried so hard to infuse his bow and arrow. Failed more times than he could count. This time, he would not fail. Too much depended on it. People relied on him, people Silas by now considered his friends.

A sense of calm washed over him as he embraced what was to come. Earlier, he had refused to see the truth, desperately clinging to the vain hope that all of them would somehow make it out of this cursed ruin alive. That they would get back to Zaya’s family and share their adventure, that they would all get to see Gnarly grow into a real Spriggan and that they would help Nurana to become the healer she wanted to be.

All of them, together.

But things like these only happened in stories. He’d been naïve, he realized that now. All the countless burdens that had weighed him down for so long suddenly appeared pointless. The feelings of inadequacy and being too weak, his hate and self-loathing, his fear and his doubts, everything was washed away in the face of what was to come. Silas let go of his pain. It didn’t matter, not anymore. Because now, he had a chance at redemption, a chance at righting his wrongs.

This was his shot at setting things right.

The Sphinx watched him from above, barely paying him any notice. It had already defeated each of them. It just needed to finish the fight. But Silas had one final card to play. With a sharp breath, he sucked the last dredges of his Inner Landscape up and let it flow into his bow. He felt oddly reminiscent of the weapon in his hands, the oval pattern of brown and green looking as beautiful as the day Tom had gifted it to him. Too bad Silas would never get the chance to see the grumpy old man again.

Laying the arrow on the string, Silas infused it with power and aimed at the Sphinx’s head. It tracked him with its eyes, well aware it could just block his arrow with its domain. But Silas wasn’t trying to hit the Sphinx. A heartbeat before the energy became overwhelming, he shifted his aim, his bow pointing straight at the dome.

One last time, Silas released the arrow. The hum of the string was too loud in his ears, splitting apart the silence that reigned in his mind. The Sphinx finally realized its mistake, moving surprisingly fast for its size as it turned around to stop the arrow from hitting the dome.

Taking a mighty leap, the beast moved to block the arrow with its body. Silas needed to do something. The arrow wasn’t fast enough. Forcing his will on the projectile, he gave it one final push, putting all of his intent behind it.

The arrow abruptly accelerated, speeding right by the Sphinx’s head and hit the dome with a final crack. The glass keeping the Taint contained shattered. As one, the entire city’s energy supply was released, sending a massive explosion from the back of the chamber. The Sphinx was hit by the brunt of it, its eyes frantic as it realized it had been too late. Although the beast’s body was before him, the explosion impacted Silas like a sledgehammer, sending him flying once more. The sharp taste of iron collected in his mouth.

Violent, foreign energy coursed through his veins as the Taint permeated into every inch of his being. Spasms rocked his whole body. He clung to the last shred of consciousness, a smile on his face. For once, he had done the right thing. For once, he had not let himself be ruled by fear, or by weakness. Maybe his parents would forgive him now.

As the darkness crept in, a voice kept nudging the edge of his mind. Someone kept calling his name. It was the voice of a friend. Zaya’s voice. Even though the sound was familiar, the word sounded strange to his ears, somehow.

“Silas!”