Arylos sat on the edge of the cot, repeatedly opening and closing his left hand to stretch the tendons in his broken arm. He could hear his knuckles crack as his arm showed little to no strength, shaking violently with each movement. He grunted as he pushed through the discomfort, trying to rebuild the muscles that burned with a bright heat with each movement and the pain ran up his arm like stinging nettles. He gritted his teeth together as he closed his hand, trying to clench his fist yet his hand could not completely close. With a defeated sigh, he lowered his arm and looked around him at the various refugees, feeling the guilt dig into him once more. His eyes danced through the people, able to discern the story of each person from their appearance alone.

And he hated it.

He looked over to the cane that Thoth had given him with a disgusted growl. He knew the reason for it and he couldn’t deny that it helped him walk, but he hated that he had become so weak and how it made him feel useless. Yet he knew there was nothing he could do to change any of it. His scorn was broken by the sounds of a commotion; people shouting and scuffling against the cavern floor. As Arylos turned his attention to the commotion, he saw exhausted soldiers carrying more people in on their backs.

Only Arylos knew that the people they carried were more soldiers. He craned his neck to look closer and could see their skin had been burnt as if they stood hour weeks in the sun and their skin was dry and peeling. He watched the group, examining more of the wounds and trying to identify the burns that afflicted them. He took longer than he expected to identify their wounds and recognize the flames that burned them.

He turned his attention to the cavern entrance and swiftly made up his mind; he needed to go outside. As if by perdition, he saw a staff leaning against one of the walls that was about right for his height. He knew that it would serve him better than the cane, especially for what awaited him. He reached out his good hand and pulled against the fabric of reality, causing the air to hum softly. He could feel the burn in his arm as his body retaliated against the use of such magic. He growled to himself, pushing himself through the pain as he saw the staff begin to move. Slow at first, before it picked up speed and raced towards him. Arylos smiled as he opened his hand to catch the staff yet a familiar brown-haired woman reached out and took the staff out of the air before he could grab it and turned towards Arylos with a judgemental smile.

“Now now, what did I tell you?” Iris teased with an ear-to-ear grin.

“I’m not a child you know; I can push myself if I need to,” Arylos said with a disappointed frown.

“Not if it hurts,” Iris said with a chuckle before turning around to the burnt soldiers. “What’s wrong with them?” she asked while gesturing at the group with the staff.

“Nothing good,” Arylos said in a soft growl.

“What does that mean?” Iris asked in confusion.

Arylos growled under his breath and snapped his fingers, causing the air to growl with him as the staff violently leapt from Iris’s hands into Arylos’s. “It means I need to go for a walk,” he said while slowly pushing himself up and using the staff for support.

“No, you need to stay here and rest,” Iris assured while rushing to Arylos.

“No, I have rested long enough; I need to see what I did,” Arylos said with a stern growl. Before Iris could stop him, he pushed forward and made his way towards the cave entrance with Iris following behind him and protesting all the while. He closed his mind to her as he pushed himself to go faster, ignoring her orders as he felt a driving need to see just what fresh hell he brought to these people. As he approached the archway, he leaned against the cold stone to regain his strength for a moment before continuing onwards.

As he rounded the corner, he saw just what he feared; Sentoraya covered in a thick layer of snow and dust with suffocating ash in the air like a thick fog. Beneath the sheets of white, he could make out the vague shapes of the city he lived in, now a barren skeleton of its former glory. Arylos felt the breath taken out of his lungs as the silence of the city silenced him; not even the wind graced him, leaving the ruined city so lifeless that a cold tundra looked like a lush forest by comparison.

All the telltale signs of a world scarred by the Eikons.

Iris came up beside Arylos and rested a hand on his shoulder as he took in the destruction. “Honey, you should really stay inside,” she said softly once she felt the cold air hit her.

“How can I just stay and hide?” Arylos growled under his breath, continuing forward through the snow-covered street. He could no longer make out Iris’s words as he pushed ahead, passing by orders hollering updates and orders to each other as they shoveled the heavy snow. Arylos quickened his pace, pushing against the aching pains of his body as he continued forward, retracing the steps of his battle in his mind. Eventually, Arylos stepped out onto a road still covered in snow as the burning cold sank into the bare soles of his feet. He growled as he continued forward, ignoring the pain of his forgetfulness.

He rounded a corner and saw a familiar section of road with a ledge on the far end with torn Eikonic corpses scattered through the street. As he went down the road, he could feel a tingling on his skin that made his hair stand up. He quickened his pace as he walked towards the ledge, barely using the staff he took as the tingling on his skin intensified as he got closer. As the ledge was in reach, he felt his foot lose traction and he fell into the snow, groaning loudly as the collision rocked his brain and he dropped the staff. He struggled back up just as Iris grabbed his arm from behind, holding him tight.

“Arylos, that’s enough,” she ordered in a stern voice while giving Arylos a furious scowl. “You’re going to get yourself seriously hurt.”

“None of that matters now,” Arylos growled as he struggled back to his knees and looked at his hands, the ashen skin torn and cracked like clay from hitting the ground.

“None of that matters?!” Iris growled with a deep scoff. “Do you hear yourself right now? What have I told you about throwing your life and wellbeing away so quickly?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arylos repeated as he struggled against Iris’s iron grip.

Iris let go and forcibly grabbed Arylos’s shoulders, forcing the Titan to look at him. “You matter to me!” she howled in a furious voice, scaring the blood out of Arylos’s face as he realized just how angry she was. “I told you not to throw yourself away, and what do I catch you doing again?!” she ranted as she grabbed the collar of Arylos’s robe.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Iris, more people will die,” Arylos said softly while gingerly grabbing Iris’s hands, unable to pull her away.

“And you already did!” Iris screamed as tears streamed down her cheeks, silencing the Titan. She took a deep breath as she began to break down, pulling Arylos close to hide her crying in his chest. “You died on me once, don’t do that to me again.”

Arylos watched Iris, unsure of what action to take and what she would do to him. It left a sickening feeling in his stomach and a disgusting taste in the back of his throat. He let out a defeated sigh as he gingerly hugged her, unable to embrace her at full strength. It didn’t take him long that Iris made good on her promise; that if he died on her, she would drag him back from whatever afterlife he went too. Arylos nearly lost her and she used her own blood to bring him back. He closed his eyes once he felt the bandages of her arms rub against his skin, reminding him of the sacrifice she made for him.

“I’m sorry that I’m horrible to you,” Arylos said sincerely, holding Iris as tight as his frail body would let him. “I deserve your anger because you don’t deserve how I have treated you; not after how you have treated me and shown me love,” Arylos continued, feeling the sickening taste in his mouth worsen like it was a reminder of how watching her cry was like.

“Then let’s go back, okay?” Iris whimpered softly, clutching Arylos’s collar tighter.

Arylos sighed as he let her go and pulled her away, rubbing the tears from her eyes. “But I have to know, or else more people will die. And you can’t follow me,” he told her while feeling the bile in the back of his throat.

“So it’s too dangerous for me but not for you?” Iris asked after letting go of Arylos and rubbing her face.

“I know how it sounds but you’re going to have to trust me, okay?” Arylos said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Iris let out a sigh as she licked her lips like her mouth had gone dry. She then looked up and gave Arylos an odd face like she noticed something was out of place. “Am I crazy, or do you taste metal?” she asked in confusion.

Arylos raised an eyebrow as he wondered what she was asking. As he opened his mouth, the sickening taste in his mouth worsened. With her suggestion, he could finally place the taste; like flakes of rust in the back of his throat. He licked his lips and the taste worsened, like he was licking aged coins. He realized that it was exactly what he thought as his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Stay here,” Arylos ordered in a soft yet stern voice as he put his fingers to his lips, ordering Iris to stay silent. She nodded slowly as Arylos let her go and gingerly grabbed onto the ledge and pulled himself over. As his arms went over the ledge to hold on, he felt the tingling on his skin worsen, like needles piercing his skin. Arylos struggled to lift himself up as Iris took his legs and pushed him, giving him an extra nudge to get over the edge as he rolled over on his back in the snow.

Arylos slowly got up and as he did, he felt his skin sting like he was in a stinging nettle bush. He slowly made his way towards the snow-covered corpse of Vortex, as armored soldiers stood atop the clearing, searching through the snow in the background. As he watched the search party, Arylos found himself feeling a new sensation come over his skin that accompanied the stinging; a sensation that felt like his skin was vibrating. Arylos looked down and saw his skin slowly harden like baked clay as cracks began to form. He stopped where he was and raised his hand towards Vortex’s body as the air hummed under the grasp of his Titanic magic. As the magic took hold, he was jolted awake by his flight-or-flight instinct as the air growled loudly in response; a churning hum took over the winter air accompanied by a high-pitched screaming sound. It was unholy, otherworldly, and could not be described.

He felt the stinging worsen in his hand, like thousands of needles shooting through his body at sonic speeds as his body continued to deteriorate. Blackened tears came to Arylos’s eyes as he realized just what he was seeing. The air was empty save for the ash and snow but he could feel the lingering presence of a true monster in the air; it churned and growled like a dragon in a mountain of gold as a new sound accompanied Arylos’s ears. The new sound rang out like rapid tapping against dull metal, a clicking that accompanied the stinging pain and overtook his hearing. Fear overtook him as the new clicking sound was in Arylos’s mind; a whispered warning from the ghost of the mechanical dragon.

Within half a minute of coming over the ledge, Arylos quickly turned and ran back down the ledge, not daring to get any closer to the corpse. He slid down the ledge as Iris grabbed him and the sickening sensations faded away. Before Iris could help him, he jumped back up and continued running down the road, fumbling to the ground while shouting loudly. Iris grabbed the staff and chased after Arylos, catching him as he turned around a corner and hid inside one of the collapsed buildings, sitting down in the corner and grabbing his head, loudly crying to himself.

“Honey, what happened up there?” Iris asked while rushing towards Arylos and rubbing his back, being mindful of his cracking skin and areas where his black blood began to leak through his clothes.

Arylos only responded by shaking his head, grabbing his hair as he found himself unable to speak. Before he could convince himself to speak, a familiar Templarian warrior entered the building with a concerned look on her face. Arylos recognized Bellona and a part of him wanted to hit her for letting her people be anywhere near the corpse.

“What’s going on here?” Bellona asked in a concerned voice.

“I don’t know,” Iris answered while continuing to try and comfort the shaken Arylos. “He went up in the plaza where the dragon’s body is and came back freaking out. I think something’s wrong with him.”

“Everyone up there is dead,” Arylos said in a shaking voice.

“How is that possible? Some of the guys just came back a little while ago,” Bellona answered in disbelief.

“You don’t get it; they’re already dead, their hearts are just beating for now,” Arylos said while shaking his head.

“What are you talking about?” Iris asked, gingerly holding Arylos close.

Arylos shook his head and slowly collected himself as his cracking skin slowly started to heal, like time was going in reverse for him. “Vortex had an artificial sun for a heart. To power it, his heart was full of metals completely different from what you know. These metals are, for lack of better terms, constantly on fire; this fire is what creates that power and those flames he burned the city with,” Arylos took a deep breath as he rubbed his nose, as if the realization shook him deeply. “And right now that fire in his chest is still burning.”

“There is no fire though,” Bellona said with a scoff. “The body is covered by snow and it’s cold to the touch.”

“She has a point; the fires went out a week ago,” Iris said while rubbing Arylos’s scalp.

“No, you don’t get it; the fire has gone out but those metals themselves are still burning and giving off their heat,” Arylos said, struggling to find the right words for Iris to understand and knowing she was the one who was the most confused. “Those metals give off an energy not unlike fire, but it’s invisible. And it burns anyone too close to them, shredding their bodies apart slowly. The entire air is poisoned, but not with a gas; with energy. Stay up there for long enough and that poison will kill you before you could ever recover.”

Arylos let go of himself and looked over towards Iris, blackened tears still streaming down from his eyes that carried the sorrow of a dying god. “A death where the soul is ripped out of the body so quickly and so violently that the body doesn’t even know what happened until whoever the poor fucker is begins to decompose alive, their body melting and giving up all the while they are alive for it all. Those burns and tans they’re getting; that’s only the beginning.”

Iris felt her blood chill as Arylos’s words dug deep in her. “What about that metal taste?”

“That’s a symptom, it means you were exposed to it,” Arylos said with a hint of sadness. “Have you felt a tingling sensation? That’s the energy of Vortex’s heart ripping holes in you.”

“Don’t say it,” Bellona said while shaking her heart, beginning to realize what Arylos was describing.

Arylos sighed and turned back towards Bellona with an angry look in his eyes. “The Eikons sterilize every world they invade. And now they left us the perfect gift; a radioactive core that I just ripped a hole into.”