Viconia halted abruptly, her silhouette casting an elongated shadow in the dim torchlight. They had descended the spiral staircase into a chamber that served as a crossroads. Three doors loomed before them: two smaller, nondescript ones flanking the left and right, and a massive, ornate double door straight ahead. In the center of the room, an obelisk of black stone jutted upward, its apex adorned with a pulsating purple circle that radiated an unnatural glow. Around its base, a ring of purple candles flickered with eerie, otherworldly flames.
Karlach’s nostrils flared, her sharp senses picking up the unmistakable scent of blood wafting from the door on the left. Her hand instinctively gripped the shaft of her glaive, her body tense and coiled like a predator ready to strike. A low growl rumbled from her chest.
“What have you done to Wyll?” she demanded, her voice trembling with rage and desperation.
Viconia did not flinch at the implied threat, nor did she deign to answer. With the grace of a shadow gliding across the floor, she approached the massive double door. Pressing her palm against its surface, she revealed an intricate symbol of Shar etched into the stone. Gems embedded in the door flickered to life, their light cascading across the engravings. The door rumbled, rotating with a mechanical precision before splitting into three massive sections that slid into the walls with a resounding thud.
Beyond the door lay a cavernous chamber, its vastness illuminated by shafts of pale, silvery moonlight filtering through cracks in the stone ceiling. A grand staircase , leaded to an expansive, dark temple. The architecture was hauntingly familiar to Karlach, evoking memories of the Shadow-Cursed Lands—another temple of Shar, ancient and foreboding.
Karlach’s grip on her glaive tightened as she followed Viconia’s lead. The sound of their footsteps echoed ominously, each step taking her deeper into the oppressive sanctum. They arrived at a massive circular stone door at the end of the chamber, its surface inscribed with Shar’s iconography. Viconia held up her holy symbol, its dark gems shimmering ominously. In response, the door came alive, rotating slowly before splitting into three sections that disappeared into the walls.
The room beyond was a grand hall, its enormity filled with statues of Shar, their forms imposing and cold. Moonlight cascaded through an intricately carved opening in the ceiling, illuminating a raised platform in the center of the chamber. Viconia ascended the platform with a measured grace, standing bathed in the moonlight as if it were a spotlight.
Karlach’s attention, however, was immediately drawn to a familiar figure emerging from a staircase on the far side of the room. Her heart leapt at the sight of Wyll, his familiar frame moving with practiced ease. Relief washed over her, but it was fleeting. Something was wrong. His eyes, once full of warmth and fire, were dark, hollow. This was not the man she knew.
“Brothers and sisters,” Viconia’s voice rang out, smooth and commanding, reverberating through the chamber. “Today, a new soul joins our ranks.” Her piercing gaze shifted to Wyll, a predatory smile curling her lips. “Wyll Ravengard, son of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard, has decided to dedicate himself to Shar.”
Karlach’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as though a vice had clamped around her ribs. Her glaive wavered slightly in her grasp. “No... No, this can’t be,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the growing murmur of the gathered worshippers.
The hushed tones of the onlookers swirled around the room like a rising tide, their disbelief and curiosity feeding into the oppressive atmosphere. Viconia raised a hand, silencing them effortlessly. Her gaze remained fixed on Karlach as she delivered her final decree.
“And his initiation will be completed once he kills his lover.”
Karlach’s heart plummeted, her world tilting as the weight of those words struck her. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she forced herself to remain standing, her eyes locked on Wyll. He stepped forward, his infernal rapier appearing in his hand as though summoned by the command. The blade shimmered with an ominous purple glow, the light snaking along its edge like living energy.
“Wyll, what are you doing?” Karlach’s voice cracked, the plea escaping her lips as a desperate whisper. She took a hesitant step toward him, her free hand extended as though she could pull him back to her with sheer will.
Wyll’s face was an unreadable mask, devoid of the warmth she had always cherished. His eyes, now lit with a faint violet hue, met hers without a flicker of recognition. “Do not resist, Karlach,” he said, his tone unnervingly calm, almost robotic. The glow of his rapier intensified, casting eerie shadows across his face.
Karlach’s grip on her glaive tightened until her knuckles turned white. “Wyll, please! It’s me! It’s Karlach!” she shouted, her voice raw with anguish. “You don’t have to do this! ”
But Wyll did not falter. He advanced slowly, his steps deliberate, as though each one brought him closer to the edge of no return. The onlookers watched in silence, their eyes gleaming with anticipation .
Karlach’s mind raced. Her heart screamed at her to drop her weapon, to refuse this twisted game. But the sight of his blade, poised to strike, froze her resolve.
“If you’re going to fight me,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion as she raised her glaive into a defensive stance, “then I’ll give you a fight. But I swear, Wyll, I’ll get you back. I’ll bring you home.”
The room held its breath as the two lovers faced each other, the weight of Shar’s shadow pressing down on them. And then, with a blinding flash of violet light, Wyll lunged.
Karlach stood frozen, her breath caught in her throat. Wyll’s rapier gleamed with the eerie light of Shar’s power, the violet hue casting his face in a sinister glow. Yet it wasn’t the blade that pierced her heart—it was his smirk. A cruel twist of his lips, so unlike the Wyll she knew and loved. The man who had fought beside her, who had vowed to protect the innocent, now stood before her as an agent of darkness.
“Wyll, please,” Karlach said, her voice trembling but firm. She gripped her glaive tightly, parrying a strike. “This isn’t you. Whatever they’ve done to you, we can fix it. You don’t have to do this.”
Wyll lunged back , his boots scraping against the stone floor of the temple. The murmurs of the Shar worshippers faded into the background as the tension between them swelled. He tilted his head, regarding her with an almost lazy amusement, as if her words were nothing more than the babble of a naive child.
“Do you think I’m doing this because I’m controlled?” he asked, his voice calm, almost conversational. The question froze Karlach in place. Her lips parted, but no words came. His smirk widened as he leaned in, his violet eyes gleaming with a malevolent spark. “I’m doing this because I want to.”
The words struck her like a thunderclap. Her grip on her glaive faltered, the weapon dipping slightly. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You’re lying. You wouldn’t do this. You wouldn’t betray everything you stand for… everyone you love.”
Wyll’s expression hardened. “You don’t understand, Karlach. You never did. I’m tired of sacrificing for others, of being the Blade of Frontiers, the so-called hero.” He spat the last word as if it were venom on his tongue. “Shar showed me the truth. Power is the only thing that matters. Not duty. Not love. Power.”
Karlach’s eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. She tightened her grip on her glaive and raised it defensively. “That can't be true, then the man I loved must still be around there somewhere. But I won’t let you hurt anyone else, Wyll. Not while I’m still breathing.”
Wyll’s smirk returned, but this time it was colder, sharper. He raised his rapier, its blade vibrating with shadowy energy. “Then let’s see how long that lasts.”
The clash of their weapons rang out, echoing through the temple chamber. Karlach’s glaive met Wyll’s rapier in a shower of sparks, the force of their blows sending ripples of energy through the air. She pushed forward, her muscles straining as she tried to overpower him, but Wyll moved with a fluid grace she had never seen before. He was faster, sharper, as if the shadows themselves guided his movements.
“Fight me, Karlach,” Wyll taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “Or is this all the fury of the Avernus warrior can muster?”
Karlach growled, her heart a storm of pain and anger. She spun her glaive in a wide arc, the blade whistling through the air as it came down toward him. Wyll sidestepped with ease, the shadows curling around him like a cloak. He countered with a thrust of his rapier, and Karlach barely managed to deflect it in time.
“I don’t want to hurt you!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “But I will if I have to!”
Wyll laughed, a hollow, bitter sound that sent chills down her spine. “You’re already hurting me, Karlach. Every moment you waste clinging to the past is a knife in my back. Shar has freed me from all of it. From duty. From guilt. From love.”
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The last word was a dagger to her heart. Karlach staggered, her resolve wavering for a fraction of a second. Wyll seized the opportunity. He stepped into her guard, his rapier crackling with dark energy, and slashed across her side. The blow wasn’t deep, but the shadows that clung to the blade burned like acid. Karlach cried out, stumbling back.
“Stop holding back,” Wyll snarled, his voice no longer mocking but furious. “Fight me, Karlach. Prove to me you’re not as weak as I always knew you were.”
The words ignited a fire in her chest, a desperate rage that burned through her pain and despair. Karlach roared, her glaive glowing with infernal light as she charged forward. Their blades met again and again, the clash of steel and shadow filling the chamber. The Shar worshippers watched in stunned silence, their chants forgotten as the battle unfolded before them.
But no matter how hard Karlach fought, Wyll matched her blow for blow. He moved like a shadow, his strikes precise and relentless. The power Shar had granted him was overwhelming, and Karlach could feel her strength waning.
“This is the end, Karlach,” Wyll said, his voice cold and final. He raised his rapier for a killing blow, the shadows around him surging like a tidal wave.
Karlach dropped to one knee, her glaive trembling in her hands. She looked up at him, her face streaked with blood and tears. “Wyll,” she said, her voice breaking. “Please. Don’t do this. I know you’re still in there. I know the man I love is still in there.”
For a moment, his blade faltered. His violet eyes met hers, and for the briefest instant, she thought she saw something—hesitation, regret, a flicker of the Wyll she knew. The man who had once vowed to protect her, to stand by her side through the fires of hell. She clung to that moment, desperate for it to mean something, to be the crack through which she could pull him back.
But then his smirk returned, colder and more cruel than ever. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice laced with venom. “That man is gone.”
Before she could respond, he thrust his rapier forward.
The blade sank into her flesh, piercing her scales and driving toward her heart. Karlach’s breath hitched as the cold steel tore through her, but the pain was nothing compared to the anguish ripping through her chest. Her hand instinctively grabbed the blade, her claws trembling as they wrapped around it. Tears flowed freely down her face, not from the pain, but from the shattering of her heart.
“Why, Wyll?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Why?”
He said nothing, his expression unreadable. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw no remorse, no sorrow—only the cold detachment of a man who had chosen his path. The Wyll she loved was gone, and in his place stood a stranger.
She closed her eyes for a moment, the world around her fading into the background. Her dragon heart pounded in her chest, a steady, thunderous drumbeat that echoed through her very soul. It was surging with power and fury.
The flames of the candles and the braziers erupted, their light filling the chamber with an intense, searing glow. The temperature in the room skyrocketed, the oppressive heat driving many to their knees. Shadows danced wildly on the walls, their flickering forms like restless specters bearing witness to the chaos.
Wyll’s eyes widened for a moment, a flicker of realization breaking through his cold façade. He stepped back, retreating to Viconia’s side. Together, they summoned a dark barrier of shadow, a writhing, impenetrable wall that shielded them from the inferno.
Karlach’s body began to change. Her form grew larger, her muscles bulging as her true self emerged from beneath the illusion that had concealed her. The dark ruby scales covering her body shimmered like molten lava, their edges glowing with an inner fire. Her horns, jagged and gleaming, curved upward like the crown of a queen. She towered over them now, her massive frame easily surpassing four meters in height.
The very air around her shimmered and distorted, waves of heat radiating from her like the heart of a forge. She opened her eyes, and they burned with a golden light, the unmistakable eyes of a dragon. Her gaze locked onto Wyll, piercing through the shadows that surrounded him. In that moment, she was no longer just Karlach—she was vengeance incarnate, the embodiment of wrath and sorrow.
She inhaled deeply, her chest swelling as the fire within her built to an uncontrollable crescendo. The sound of her breath was a deafening roar, like the wind of a hurricane funneling through the room. The heat intensified, causing stone to crack and melt as her power reached its peak.
With a guttural roar, she unleashed a torrent of flames that engulfed the entire chamber. The firestorm consumed everything in its path, a blinding inferno that turned shadows into light. Those who had the presence of mind to shield themselves barely managed to avoid the worst of it, while others screamed as the flames claimed them, their cries echoing through the cavernous space.
The statues of Shar stood resolute, their dark forms bathed in the fiery glow. But even they seemed to cower before Karlach’s wrath, their unyielding stone forms blackened and cracked by the heat.
Wyll stood behind the barrier, his infernal rapier still in hand. His expression was unreadable, but his grip on the weapon tightened as he watched the woman he once loved transform into a force of nature. The shadows surrounding him twisted and writhed, feeding off the darkness within his soul.
“You think this changes anything?” he shouted, his voice cutting through the roar of the flames. “You can burn this whole place to the ground, Karlach. It won’t bring me back.”
Her golden eyes snapped to him, and for a moment, the fire around her seemed to still. The intensity of her gaze bore into him, searching for any trace of the man she had once known. But there was nothing—only the void left in his wake.
“You’re right,” she said, her voice low and filled with an aching sorrow. “It won’t bring you back. But it will stop you.”
The fire surged again, an unstoppable wave of destruction that carried with it all the pain and fury she could no longer contain. As the flames raged on, Karlach stood at the center of the storm, her dragon heart beating in defiance of the man who had broken it.
Wyll stepped forward, his form emanating an ominous power that seemed to ripple through the air itself. The rapier in his hand glowed with an eerie purple hue, its blade pulsing with shadows that writhed and coiled around him like living tendrils. The darkness clung to his frame, flowing like smoke yet moving with purpose, as if alive and obeying his will.
His once familiar figure was transformed, blessed—or perhaps cursed—by Shar's power. His eyes glowed a piercing, unnatural violet, brimming with dark energy that radiated malice and unyielding purpose. Horns curved menacingly from his head, now sharper and more pronounced, their blackened surface gleaming faintly in the dim light. His features, once warm and noble, were now hardened, etched with cruel determination and shadowed by the darkness that consumed him.
Wyll’s armor was no longer the humble garb of a protector but a terrifying amalgamation of sleek obsidian and shimmering shadow. Intricate patterns of Shar’s dark magic glowed faintly along the edges of his cloak and chest piece, forming abstract runes that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his corrupted heart. The fabric of his cloak flowed unnaturally, as though caught in an invisible wind, trailing wisps of black smoke that vanished into the air.
The shadows surrounding him formed a constantly shifting aura, an unholy blend of sharp edges and fluid darkness. At times, they lashed out like tendrils, only to retract and swirl protectively around his figure. The air grew colder in his presence, heavy with the weight of despair and power, as though his mere existence was a blight upon the world.
He moved with an unnerving grace, each step measured and deliberate, his rapier poised to strike. The weapon, no longer merely a blade, thrummed with power, its dark edge glinting with a sinister brilliance. Every flicker of its purple glow cast grotesque, elongated shadows across the walls, filling the space with an oppressive dread.
Wyll’s transformation was complete—a warrior of shadow, bound to the will of Shar and brimming with power that seemed both divine and profane. He stood as a living weapon, a harbinger of despair, and his presence alone was enough to chill the hearts of those who dared to face him.
From Karlach's back a pair of wings flared open, bursting forth in an explosion of fiery energy. Ethereal and draconic, they shimmered with hues of gold and crimson, their radiant heat causing the very air around her to warp and distort. With a guttural roar, she crouched low, her claws gouging deep trenches into the stone floor beneath her.
With a mighty beat of her wings, she launched herself into the air, the sheer force of her ascent sending shockwaves rippling across the room. The ethereal flames on her wings left trails of light in their wake as she soared to the apex of the chamber. High above, her form glowed like a second sun, a radiant beacon of fury and grief. The gathered cultists below scattered, shielding their eyes from the blinding light.
Wyll watched her rise, his smirk unwavering. He thrust his rapier into the ground, and the shadows around him surged upward, forming a massive, writhing hand that reached out to grasp her mid-air. The hand, composed of pure darkness, clawed at her wings, but Karlach twisted in the air, her powerful wings slicing through the shadowy tendrils like blades.
“Is that all you’ve got, Wyll?” she roared, her voice dripping with defiance.
Wyll’s expression darkened. “Not even close.”
He raised his hand, and a torrent of shadow erupted from the ground, forming a cyclone of darkness that engulfed the chamber. The shadowstorm howled, drowning out all other sound as it tore through the air, its tendrils lashing out in all directions. Within the storm, Wyll moved like a phantom, his form flickering in and out of view as he unleashed a flurry of strikes with his rapier. Each strike sent blades of shadow hurtling toward Karlach.
Karlach’s wings flared again, their radiant flames pushing back against the encroaching darkness. She twisted and turned, her movements impossibly graceful for her massive form, dodging and deflecting Wyll’s attacks. As the shadow blades closed in, she roared, unleashing a wave of fire that incinerated them mid-flight.
Then, with a powerful beat of her wings, she propelled herself downward, folding them tightly against her back as she plummeted toward Wyll like a meteorite. The heat around her intensified, the air igniting in her wake as she became a blazing comet of destruction.
Wyll’s eyes glowed as he realized her intent. He raised his hands, summoning a massive barrier of shadow to shield himself. The barrier thickened, its surface writhing and pulsating with Shar’s dark energy. But it was no match for the force hurtling toward it.
Karlach slammed into the barrier with a deafening explosion. The impact shattered the shadowy wall, the sheer force of it sending shockwaves that rocked the chamber and toppled statues of Shar. Flames erupted in every direction, consuming everything in their path. The ground beneath them cracked and buckled, unable to withstand the fury of their clash.
Wyll was thrown backward, skidding across the ground before coming to a stop. He pushed himself up, his cloak of shadows flickering and fading as he struggled to regain his footing. Karlach stood at the center of the destruction, her form still ablaze, her eyes locked onto him with an intensity that made even the shadows recoil.
“It didn't have to be this way, Wyll,” she said her voice filled with saddnes.
Wyll laughed bitterly as he poised his blade .
The battle resumed, fire and shadow clashing in a dance of destruction and heartbreak. The chamber trembled as the two forces collided, each strike more devastating than the last. But through it all, Karlach fought not just with her strength . Each landed strike filled her heart with more sadness each cut made by Wyll seemed to not cut only her scales but her heart .