…

One night was all it took before the great city of Concordia began to fall to the forces that besieged it. The enemy was incredibly powerful, both their sheer numbers and overwhelming strength easily laying waste to the soldiers desperately trying to defend the city. Their forces had been split, one half attempting to evacuate the citizens while the other focused on repelling the enemy.

None of them had made a difference.

The soldiers were helpless as the enemy seemingly multiplied out of the blue and began to massacre the soldiers and fleeing citizens. Their cries of terror and fear filled the night while their blood tainted the streets of the once-prosperous city. Somewhere amongst the chaos, however, a man with long dark brown hair dressed in a red long coat and his companion could be seen dashing through the piles of bloodied and charred corpses.

"The city is done for," said the man. "We must hurry."

His companion, a brunette-haired woman donned in form-fitting leather armor flashed him a quick nod. "I'm with you!"

Together, they jumped onto one of the burning houses and ran across the rooftops. They glanced down at the chaos happening below, seeing the soldiers of the city getting torn apart by the invaders. Time was of the essence here.

They dropped down to the ground, finding themselves standing in the ruined city plaza. This had once been the central hub for most of the city's activities, with Concordia's magnificent fountain serving as the perfect backdrop for a gathering of people. Now, the fountain had been smashed into pieces, the water stained red with blood as the only people gathered here were locked in battle with one another.

"We need to help them!" the man's companion exclaimed, pointing to their soldiers.

"Make it quick."

Now with his approval, the woman grinned excitedly and rushed towards the enemy soldiers. She reached behind her, grabbed the glaive strapped on her back, and leaped towards the enemy. She laughed manically as she swung the glaive around, slicing through the enemy soldiers as if they were made of butter.

But as the man watched his companion, he jerked to the side, narrowly dodging a blast of energy aimed at him. Turning towards the source, he saw a group of enemy mages who quickly aimed once more.

"Again! Shoot him again!"

The man quickly dived towards the fountain, using it as cover. "Ingrid!" he yelled out. Moments later, a scream could be heard coming from one of the mages as Ingrid impaled the soldier with her glaive. Panicked, the mages attempted to turn their spells over to her but the woman was faster, swiftly separating their heads clean off their bodies.

"Good work," the man said, eyeing the numerous corpses of the enemy. "And what of our soldiers?"

"The soldiers send their thanks for helping them," Ingrid told him. "They also told me that the number of forces guarding the cathedral has dwindled significantly."

"Is that so? Very well then, let's hurry."

They continued to fight their way toward the cathedral, occasionally encountering stray enemy mages whom they dispatched quickly. There was simply no time to waste.

Eventually, the cathedral was in their sights. It stood there against the backdrop of the full moon, visually spotless and a heavy contrast to the burning city. And standing between him and his goal was a stone bridge connecting the city to the cathedral. It was also where the fighting was the most intense.

"What should we do?" Ingrid asked him.

"We push through," he said without hesitation. Ingrid nodded obediently in response. The two ran through the hordes of soldiers fighting while swatting away any attacker as they steadily moved closer and closer to the cathedral. Spotting their leader moving amongst the horde, his soldiers all cheered and doubled their efforts, pushing back with more force against the enemy. Not even the enemy mages could win against pure stubbornness and determination. Several of his soldiers quickly followed him and Ingrid toward the Cathedral, driven purely by the instinct to protect their leader. And soon, it wasn't long before they arrived at the base of the steps leading up to the cathedral.

"This is it," the man said, looking up at the building located atop the wide staircase.

"And we'll be here to support you," exclaimed Ingrid, gesturing to herself and the soldiers following them. However before they could begin their climb up, something struck the man in the shoulder, causing him to drop to his knees.

"No!" Ingrid quickly leaned down, inspecting the arrow stuck to his shoulder. It was firmly lodged into his body and she could hear him groan. Alerted to the presence of the enemy, Ingrid looked up and saw two figures standing atop the stairs. The two were dressed in the familiar white robes of the Church Acolytes, but it was clear that these individuals weren't mere soldiers.

"All of you stop right where you are," ordered the one who had shot the arrow, an elderly man who stared down at them with disdain. He was armed with an elegant-looking bow and arrow. "Do that and we'll make your deaths slightly less painful."

"How kind of you." Ingrid retorted, reaching for her glaive. "Not like that will stop us."

"Then you'll die upholding those words." He gave a brief nod to his partner. The other individual, a much larger person whose face was concealed by a metal helmet and armed with a large axe suddenly jumped over their heads and landed right behind them. The impact of it shook the ground to its core.

Ingrid looked back and forth between the two individuals when a low grunt coming from her companion caught her attention. "You deal with the big guy. I'll handle the archer."

"But-"

"Do as I say," he commanded, looking right back at her. Ingrid gulped and immediately obeyed. She turned back and joined their soldiers in the fight against their armored foe.

"That was a foolish move Azedorne," said the archer. "How could you possibly win against me with that injury?"

The man easily pulled the arrow off his shoulder. "I'll take my chances."

Scowling, the archer pulled back the bowstring and fired off another arrow. It struck Azedorne's other shoulder, eliciting a pained groan from the masked man.

"Lady Catherine warned us about you. What exactly are you?"

"Wouldn't you like to find out?" Azedorne retorted as he yanked the arrow out.

"Hmm…I'd rather not." He fired off multiple arrows at once, coated in his magic.

Swiftly, Azedorne pressed the palm of his hand onto the ground and he vanished into a staircase as if he were made of liquid. The archer was immediately alarmed by the shocking move.

"Shadow sorcery?" He frantically looked around, aiming his bow in every direction, anticipating where Azedorne would strike. "You can't hide forever!"

The archer gasped as he suddenly felt a hand grab his leg and forcefully pull him downwards. His body sunk halfway into the ground and he desperately clawed at the floor to escape. "No, no! I cannot-"

He vanished under before he could finish. Moments later, Azedorne pulled himself out of the ground, completely unharmed. He glanced down at the fighting occurring at the bottom of the stairs. It seems Ingrid and a few of his soldiers have begun to wear down on the Acolyte. He turned around and continued toward his goal.

Soon, he found himself standing before the large door leading to the cathedral building. As he reached to push the door, he abruptly stopped. Frowning, he stood there thinking. How was he going to get in when he could sense that it could be a trap? And it wasn't as if he could phase through or under the door as he had never stepped foot into the Cathedral before. After a moment of thought, he sighed and decided to just go through with it. He pushed the doors open, bracing for the spell that might hit him as soon as he opened the door.

To his surprise, none of that happened.

"I had a feeling it was you Azedorne," called out a voice from farther inside the cathedral.

"Happy to be here," he replied dryly as the doors closed behind him. Standing at the far end of the cathedral across all the pews and by the cathedra, was the leader of this city and Archbishop of the Church of Concordia herself, Catherine. Dressed in flowing white robes that complemented her long blonde hair and armed with her signature staff, she presented herself as an imposing but respected figure amongst her people.

Stolen story; please report.

"I heard of your name before. A powerful sorcerer who lived many years ago. But then vanished without a trace."

"Well, I'm here now."

Catherine glared at him. "Are you satisfied? Satisfied that you've razed my beloved city to the ground?"

"It was a necessary move. I wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures if a certain woman would have given me what I wanted from the start."

"You know I can't do that."

"Well, it's too late to change anything. So with that out of the way, I highly advise you step out of the way and let me retrieve the Oracle and I'll be on my merry way."

Catherine didn't reply but instead slammed the end of her staff onto the floor. At the same time, shards of light formed around her.

"Or not…" Azedorne took a tentative step back.

"You…" she began, lips quivering. "You waltz in here, asking for the Oracle and when I refused, you stole one of the keys, came back with your army, burn my city, massacred all my citizens and soldiers, and then now you ask for me to step out of your way?" The shards shook as Catherine prepared to fire them. "You will die Azedorne. I don't know what happened to you or what you've become but I will kill you, for the sake of the world. And to get back what you stole from the Church." Before Azedorne could respond, she pointed her staff at him and the shards flew in his direction.

"Shit." He immediately took cover behind the pews, tucking his legs into a slide as the shards burst through the wooden pews easily. Realizing that hiding would do him no good, Azedorne quickly got up and ran as fast he could while avoiding the barrage of shards before stopping and hiding behind a pillar.

"Stop resisting!" Catherine growled as she spun her staff around to conjure up more shards. Azedorne was forced to abandon the pillar and duck under the pews again. At this rate, he'll never accomplish his objective. He had to close the distance somehow. And then it clicked.

Right, I forgot. He pressed his palm against the floor, quickly dissolving himself into the ground and disappearing, just as the shards destroyed the pew he was hiding behind.

"You can't hide from me Azedorne," Catherine threatened, tightly gripping her staff. She cautiously walked around the area, eyes darting here and there for any sign of the former sorcerer. Suddenly, she felt a chilling presence. Swiftly, she spun around and swung her staff around. It was a direct hit, her staff colliding against Azedorne's torso and sending him tumbling onto the ground.

"Damn…" Azedorne grunted, clutching his chest. He tried to crawl away when Catherine slammed the end of her staff onto his leg, crushing bone and preventing him from escaping. He turned over to look up at her, scowling at the woman standing above him. She pointed the top of her staff at his throat and prepared to deliver the final blow when the doors to the Cathedral burst open.

"Get away from him!" Ingrid shouted as she rushed towards the Archbishop with her glaive in hand. In response, Catherine rolled her eyes, transferred her staff to her other hand, and pointed it at Ingrid. Immediately several dozen shards shot out. Ingrid stopped and attempted to bat the shards away, managing to shatter them in a series of rapid swings of her glaive. Undeterred, Catherine launched her next attack.

"Ingrid!" His warning came too late as Catherine slammed the end of her staff onto the floor. Too distracted by the barrage coming from her front, Ingrid was unable to defend herself from the attack coming from below her. Azedorne watched as brightly colored spears popped out from the ground, impaling his companion through her legs, back, and head. Ingrid hadn't even realized what had happened before the spears vanished and her body dropped to the floor.

"That takes care of that," Catherine said before turning back towards Azedorne, who was still lying on the ground, eyes transfixed on his companion's corpse. He then turned around to face her and opened his mouth.

"You-" He was interrupted mid-sentence by the shard embedded on his forehead and just like his companion, slumped back lifelessly.

Catherine let out a tired sigh. Now with the leader dead, she felt relieved. Regardless, she had a lot of cleaning up to do. She felt empty, unable to decide if she was to feel relieved or saddened. Her beloved city was in ruins, the majority or even all of its citizens likely dead and all of her followers killed. Not to mention, what would the other neighboring countries do once they hear the once mighty city of Concordia had been destroyed? Her reputation would be in shambles!

No, she couldn't think that way, else she turns into the very kind of person she strived to avoid. The world needed her and she firmly believed that she had been chosen as its savior. The voice that had reached out to her many years ago when she had been but a mere sister told her so. There was still hope…because as long the Oracle was safe with her, she could create a New Concordia. Yes, she thought. That would do.

But she first had to get the key back. Then, she would decide to conjure up a spell that would engulf the entire city and wipe out any remaining enemies. It would take some time but with Azedorne dead, it should be much easier.

Suddenly, she stopped. Something was wrong. That chill she felt returned full force. She looked around frantically before her eyes landed on Azedorne's corpse. She couldn't believe her eyes.

"No…" she whispered, backing away slightly at the sight of Azedorne's corpse rising off the ground as if she hadn't just pierced his head with a shard and broken most of the bones in his body. She could only stare in horror as his body stood at its full height.

"That was not a pleasant experience…" Azedorne mumbled, shaking his legs and stretching briefly, seemingly clueless to Catherine's state of shock.

"W-What are you?" she finally blurted out.

"That's not important. Now, please hand over the Oracle. I truly don't want to cause any more unnecessary deaths so if you oblige, I'll let you live."

"And the innocent citizens of this city are unnecessary to you?"

"Collateral damage."

"And your companion?"

"Disposable," he stated without missing a beat. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. "Well?"

For several moments, Catherine was silent, eyes glued to the floor. She then gripped her staff so tightly to the point her hand might bleed and scowled at Azedorne with every ounce of hatred and determination she had within her. "I will never give the Oracle to you! I swear on the power of the Gods that I, Archbishop Catherine, will destroy you! You are a menace to this world and I will save it from you!"

Azedorne sighed. "So dramatic…" Her response, however, was clear.

With strengthened resolve, Catherine mustered all the power within her, concentrating it to its full maximum potential. A large amount of light gathered around her, forming large quantities of shards that hovered around her. "Die!" she exclaimed as she fired them at Azedorne. Not wanting to suffer through the rather long and tiring process of reviving himself, Azedorne quickly made up his mind. He ran behind the pews and pillars, narrowly avoiding each shard as they destroyed and shattered the interior of the Cathedral. It was a miracle the whole place hadn't collapsed yet. When Catherine stopped to briefly recharge, Azedorne briefly peeked out from behind of the pillars and shot a blast of darkness.

Catherine immediately countered it with a blast of her light, pointing her staff at the direction Azedorne had attacked from. When the attack ended, Azedorne was nowhere to be found. All of a sudden, Catherine felt that chill again and immediately retaliated with another blast of light in the corresponding direction. It was almost a direct hit, striking the pillar just beside Azedorne.

The blast had also grazed his arm, inflicting a burning pain that wouldn't heal. Her attacks were stronger now, much more different than before. She could now truly hurt him. He had to defeat her now. As he searched the area for any way to ensure his victory, he saw it, the possible key to his victory. Conjuring a dark-colored flame in his hand, he discretely let it float toward its destination.

"It's useless to hide from me," Catherine announced loudly. "Now come out and face me!"

She received no response. The silence continued to eat at her and her posture tensed even more than before. Where was he? And then, she felt it. Gasping, she quickly jumped back just as a hand reached out to grab her leg from underneath.

"Damn, almost had you." Azedorne pulled himself out of the ground and shook his head. "You're strong."

"A compliment from a monster like you? That's a first."

Azedorne shrugged. "Just being honest."

"Spare me the talk."

"As you wish," he said before immediately attacking with a concentrated beam of darkness. Catherine countered it with a beam of her own as the two opposing elements clashed in a spectacular display of magical prowess. It wasn't long before the two were now locked in a battle of attrition, both parties not willing to give up. The beam war intensified as they poured more and more power into their attack. But their near limitless supply made them both equally matched and it would seem there would be no clear victor. It would have been the case, if it weren't for one glaring negative one of them had yet to realize.

A loud and guttural growl had come from behind Catherine and before she could react, a pair of arms had wrapped themselves around her body. It was Ingrid, revived as an undead corpse from Azedorne's power. The momentary distraction was enough to break her attack…and long enough to decide the victor of this battle.

Catherine could only scream as the darkness struck her and the undead corpse holding her. Soon, all that was left of the mighty Archbishop was a decaying pile of flesh.

Azedorne hummed in satisfaction before heading toward the back of the Cathedral. There, he approached the mural depicting the symbols associated with the six gods.

A scale for Ivona, the goddess of Justice and Order.

A laurel for Virtuna, the goddess of Truth and Wisdom.

A magpie for Amadira, the god of Luck.

Two spears crossed over a shield for Orin, the god of chaos.

A fox for Ezekiel, the god of Illusion and Trickery.

Azedorne pulled his collar down and unveiled a necklace with a small diamond-like object attached to it. He then approached the very last symbol on the mural, a half-wilted tree…the symbol for Raiga, the god of Life and Death. As soon as he placed the object within the shaped hole on the symbol, the mechanism activated and a stairway leading to a basement below the Cathedral opened up.

Without any more hesitation, he made his way down.

There, he found himself in a dimly lit hallway. Statues of the previous Archbishops lined the edges of the hallway, and at the end of it, all was the object he was looking for. Placed on top of a small podium, was a metallic grey cube.

"The Oracle…" It was not the most remarkable object, and at first glance, one might not think that this item was capable of somehow conjuring up anything one could desire. That was a reason why it had been kept down in the basement, heavily guarded. Its wish-granting abilities were sought out by other countries and it was astonishing how long Archbishop Catherine had kept it safe from enemy hands for as long as she did ever since it was uncovered decades ago.

Suddenly, a disembodied voice spoke into Azedorne's head. "Splendid work. And now what have we here?"

"Yes, here it is. The Oracle. A little disappointing if I'm being honest."

"Looks can be deceiving my little pawn. Now, pick it up and I can fulfill my end of the deal."

Azedorne did as he was told. Once he held the fabled object in his hands, he froze, feeling as if a finger had pressed itself against his forehead. The voice spoke again. "You did well. Congratulations, you've earned your death."

Azedorne couldn't hide the joy in his voice. "Thank you."

The voice sounded as if it hummed. "Now rest. She's waiting for you."

He smiled. Azedorne closed his eyes and a moment later, a bright flash of light engulfed him and his body promptly crumbled into dust. The object dropped to the ground before suddenly being lifted into the air and being neatly placed back on the podium as if nothing had happened, waiting for any lucky soul to stumble upon it amidst the ruins of the once prosperous Concordia.

...