Chapter 10: When The Mist Blows Away - Part Two_The High Prophecy

Chapter 10: When The Mist Blows Away - Part Two

Markus is rooted in his place, his heart skips a beat. He immediately turns and heads back to the castle. The woman stops him once again.

"Wait, your highness!" she cries. "I know a quicker way!"

"A quicker way? To my castle?" cries Markus, confused, but too panicked to question it further. "Where is it, ma'am?!"

"I will guide you, follow me!" cries the woman. He follows her as she storms off into the city.

Jon and Emit are on the way back to the Capitol, hurrying across the countless dead bodies laying about, the blood, the flames, the tears, and, needless to say, the piss.

"I swear, if this entire battle is just going to be us running back and forth..." Jon says.

"We need to be at the castle before him." says Emit. "I don't know how fast he is, but I don't see him behind us... Bloody hell, he could already be there!"

"Why does it smell like rotten cabbage and eggs in here?" says Jon.

"Sorry!" cries another man at a distance, running while pushing a cart of repellent-smelling rotten cabbages and eggs. They both stare at him. "My wares are going bad and I need to clean up what's left of them! Please ignore me!"

"Is your leg alright?" says Emit, redirecting his attention to Jon.

"Yeah. It's fine." says Jon. "Are you sure we should leave Fangs behind? I'm worried about him."

"He'll be alright." says Emit.

"No, really... I think we should go back-"

"You gay for him or something?"

"What?" says Jon. "You're gay, fuck you."

"Come on, have a sense of humor, Johnny!" cries Emit, laughing slightly.

"How about you have an iron leg up your ass and run with it for a hundred miles in the middle of a history-defining war, see how that works for you."

Before they could speak any more, a large figure dashes past them, almost knocking them down, a destructive trail of flame and maniacal laughter following him as he heads straight for the wall.

"Shit!" cries Jon, shocked. "Hod! How is the motherfucker still alive?"

"He looks better than ever." says Emit, shaking his head in fear. "We need to pick up our pace."

"Is literally everyone going to be there before us?" cries Jon.

The young woman is taking the prince through various narrow, dark alleyways and across many poor streets. He starts to get suspicious, slowing down for a second, looking around himself, observing the area.

"Are you sure this is the way to the castle?" he says.

"Trust me, your highness, I would not want to mislead you."

Suddenly, a flashback starts hitting Markus in the back of his head.

"Do not fall for the sexy babes! Do not trust them! They are cursed!" Cries the underwear man from the clearing outside the Nexonish walls.

The woman's expression changes, she tightens her wide, pleading eyes to slits, and grins widely, as she pulls a knife out of her cloak and jabs at Markus, but he quickly grabs it and turns it around, roughly stabbing the woman in the chest. He looks her in the eyes, furious, as she takes her last breath, her life escaping with it.

"You had to bring me all the way here to shank me?" says Markus. "Couldn't have done it out in the clearing?"

"How did you-"

"The naked man speaks naked truths." says Markus, before he unshanks her, she drops to the ground. Markus looks around himself for a moment, but before he can think of leaving, mist starts to cover the area. He observes the mist surrounding him, an eerie feeling overcomes him.

"I am heeeeeere!" calls a breath-like voice in the distance, echoing through the alley, every pressured letter echoing more than the average ones, as the mist starts creeping up on Markus.

He raises his sword, prepared. The mist thickens, as he starts to see various vague faces laughing at him wickedly, surrounding him, so vivid yet so faceless, with no, yet every expression imaginable. He backs away, but quickly he becomes completely surrounded.

The voices start to get louder and more wicked, one of the faces appears to be that of his father, mockingly laughing at him. He loses his calm. He chants, freezing the mist around him and encasing himself in an ice crystal.

"Safe and warrannnted ..." calls the echoing breath. "Predictablllle."

Markus looks around, trying to figure the source of the voice.

"I can stay here, aaaaall day ..." calls the voice. "... Can you?"

Markus takes a breath, falling into his thoughts for a moment, staring into the nothingness, worried. Sigh, here we go.

Hod dashes, nearing the walls, he stops a few dozen meters away. Tamer walks up close to Hod, observing the place, scouting the area. He puts two fingers in his mouth and lets out a loud whistle. The thunder wyvern soars the skies once more, this time hovering near the walls. It raises its wings, gathering the lightning from the skies, it opens its mouth upwards to charge its power directly from the sky, before it lets out a giant bolt of lightning from its mouth that trickles across the wall, roughly carving a deep and unstraight line across it. The remaining archers struggle to get off the wall, screaming and trembling, before the entire wall falls and tumbles to the ground. The entire. wall. Almost every archer on the ground and on top is crushed. Clouds of dust start rising around the debris left by the wall, as well as the cries and hollers of the more unfortunate warriors who have not been killed properly. The wall has been completely destroyed, and with it any hope for victory for the men and women of Nexonin.

"Nice." says Tamer, as he starts picking his teeth, almost smiling, proud.

The dark army pours into the city, hundreds and thousands of goblins and orcs and other monsters, they slaughter the panicking folk running for their lives. Crowds of frightened men and women run towards the castle, brushing past a line of mages in elegant blue silk robes, standing, chanting, some shooting small fireballs, some lightning bolts, ice, water, rocks, etc...

They don't seem to be doing much damage, barely killing a few dozen before the monsters are almost half-way to them. One of the mages steps forward, a familiar face.

"Archmage Rot'Nem, we are doomed! We cannot keep holding back for the people!" cries one of the mages. Rot'Nem turns to him, stroking his beard for a few seconds, then facing the enemy. A dark expression looms over him.

"No use being cautious now." says Rot'Nem in his usual Nordic accent. "Let it loose on the bastards."

The mages exchange looks, but quickly, they concentrate harder, chant louder, and change their battle stance to a more aggressive stance. Instead of small fireballs, explosive flame orbs are tossed, blowing groups of monsters to smithereens. Instead of bolts, large lightning whips that turn hordes of them to smoking skeletons. Glaciers, boulders ... chaos ensues. Not only the monsters, but the houses and the roads as well, are falling, converting to debris amidst the chaos.

After letting loose, it seems for a moment that the mages might be able to overpower the dark army, their numbers are dwindling quickly. The mages are still as focused as ever, destroying the dark army. A few mages are startled when they hear a strange sound, as if the air whistled behind their necks. Two mages turn, only to notice the creature breathing across their face, it is Hybrid, blank-faced, still, carrying an intimidating oddity. Before the mages could even react, Hybrid swipes his two hands, so swiftly that he instantly beheads the two mages, sending their heads flying away, a large pile of blood splashing onto his face. The other mages are terrified, they all quickly turn to him and start to prepare their defense spells. He approaches one mage that had been quickly chanting to reinforce himself with a shield, his hand shapes into a blade as he thrusts it through the shield, breaking it and impaling the mage in the chest, killing him. He slaughters several other mages very swiftly. Dashers start approaching in the distance, dashing right past the remains of the dark army and surrounding the mages.

One mage creates a golem who approaches the Hybrid, but before it could even think of moving, Hybrid thrusts his hand through its rocky chest, then with his other hand he grabs the crystal on its head and smashes it in, destroying the golem.

"Trap him in a shockwave! Now!" Cries Rot'Nem. Quickly, the remaining mages surround him and start to chant together. A wave of mana starts to circle Hybrid. He dashes to strike it but he instantly gets shocked and falls back. He starts to look around himself as the mana starts taking the form of a fence of different elements, about to let loose at any moment. Hybrid's blank expression doesn't change, it never does.

A shadow dawns atop the mages. One mage breaks his concentration to look up, he is terrified. With him not paying attention, the fence breaks, and Hybrid instantly breaks out and starts to kill the mages once again.

The thunder wyvern hovers above their heads, flapping its wings and charging as it did before. The mages start to fall back, but quickly, the wyvern's entire body is wrapped in lightning as it unleashes a giant bolt of lightning, instantly frying most of the remaining mages. A group of them, however, could be seen fleeing the scene. Hybrid stands, watching them, blankly, as the wyvern's shadow disappears from atop him.

Markus stands in his crystal, thinking, as the mist continues to surround him. He could hear an ominous heavy breathing on the outside. He ponders for a moment, panting and fiddling with his fingers, left foot tapping.

"They need me... Father needs me..." he says to himself like a lunatic. "I need to get out of here, but how?"

He looks around, still trying to figure out where the source of the voice is. He drops his head, raising a question to himself.

"... What would Jon do?" he says, thinking for another moment, before sudden realization hits him. He turns, looking around himself one last time, eyes widening, taking a deep breath and arching his back.

"Hey! Ass-faced bugger!" he cries, mockingly. "Why don't you come out here and fight me like a real man... you twat!"

"How oooften has thisss worked for you, Maaaarkus?"

"Fuck you, Mistman!" he cries, slightly awkwardly. "Your mother calls you the pissman, did you know that? And speaking of, I had her last night... And she was terrible! No wonder she had an r-worded fart like you for a child!"

The Mistman appears in front of his crystal, with an angry expression on his face, he's about to explode.

"What did you just say to me?! Why don't you come out and say it to my f-"

A shard of ice emerges from the crystal, impaling the mistman in the face before he could finish his sentence. He instantly dematerializes and becomes a tiny cloud that floats away. Markus drops his crystal barrier, taking a breath, as the mist starts to dissipate around him.

"Damn, that actually worked!" he cries, almost about to reassure himself before he suddenly remembers- "Shit! Dad!"

He runs, exiting the dark and lonely alleyways and out into the main road once again.

In the vast and empty throne room, the King is seated on his throne, holding his stepter, still as a statuette. Four guards are stationed in front of him, spears raised forwards, as the sounds of growling monsters and destruction gets louder and nearer.

"Your majesty, you should leave." says one of the guards. "Escape now before it is too late."

"Go out and defend the people, I will not leave my castle." says the King, still holding his stepter tightly, staring at the throne room door. "I will not leave my throne."

Jon and Emit finally reach the walls, well, the debris that's left of the walls anyway. They are shocked at the sight left behind, the rock, the blood, the bodies... barely any complete bodies even, just bits and pieces, bones and meat. Same as those scattered outside the Capitol but somehow even worse.

"They fucked the walls!" cries Jon.

"Where's the prince? He should've spawned here." says Emit.

"You lot looking for Prince Markus?" calls a healer, aiding one of the barely conscious warriors whose feet were crushed.

"Have you seen him?" cries Jon.

"He was pulled by some... hot babe," he says, "towards the alleyways."

"He trying to get a little bob on the knob?" says Emit.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I think she was telling him that... the Dark Lord... was out the castle, I think." utters the warrior on the ground. The healer calms him and urges him to relax.

"Shit, we're late!" Says Jon, running off. Emit immediately follows.

The castle walls are in flames, dark monsters roaming around, causing mayhem. The royal guards are struggling to defend the castle, but they are killed almost too easily by the overwhelming number of monsters. They aren't even trying to be merciful, they aim to inflict pain before the kill. Their most common strategy seems to be the breaking of the limbs' bones, which causes most of the noise in this area to consist of screams and begging of mercy from the fainter-hearted men.

The throne room doors start to rock back and forth, many repetitive knocks on it before it finally bursts open. Groups of ogres with battleaxes and swords pour in, the King is the only man in the room, and he is as still as he was when we left him. The ogres start approaching him, raising their weapons forth, their numbers proliferating until they fill the whole room and surround him.

"Is that all?" the King says, calmly, not even batting an eye. The ogres continue to pour in to fill every empty space and corner of the room about a meter away from the throne. The King gets up from his throne and points his stepter forwards, as he cries- "Numbers, that's all you are! You think your numbers make you powerful... I will show you what true power is!"

As the ogres push in closer, preparing to stab him, possibly all at once, probably mercilessly, the King raises his stepter upwards and very stoutly throws it at the roof. It just sticks there and creates a large crack in it. The ogres stare upwards, confused, then exchange looks. Suddenly, the roof starts to crack further, spreading to cover the whole thing. The King ducks and rolls underneath the throne, as the roof tumbles and falls all at once, crushing every single ogre standing. Above the roof were around two dozen naked men in bathtubs, looking around themselves, they have no idea what's going on.

The King emerges from under his throne, lifting his stepter once more and pointing it towards the door.

"Men of the Royal Guard, get dressed." he cries. "We will hold the castle until my son does his duty."

Markus walks into what is left of the walls. He looks around, observing the slaughter and chaos. His foot taps, hard. He hardens his grip on his sheathed sword, he is enraged.

"Hey!" He cries, as he unsheathes. He runs towards them, jabbing and slashing, killing them one by one. The goblins and orcs try to work together to take down the prince. He chants loudly, almost a raging battlecry, freezing many of them from around him in place.

The monsters that were at a safe distance from the arc stop moving, raising their weapons to cover their faces, almost scared. Markus heads to one of the orcs he froze and lifts him over his head.

"Get the hell out of my castle!" he shouts, throwing the frozen orc at the goblins, crushing two of them to death as it shatters into many palm-sized pieces that fly everywhere, one of them even taking the form of a shard and impaling the back of another goblin's head as he tries to run away.

He keeps throwing more frozen orcs, until the remaining creatures scamper off. Markus stops for a moment, taking a breather before he screams in rage and power and walks through the inner castle walls and into the gardens. He watches as all the folk he once knew and loved lie on the ground, blood staining the grass around them. Maids, guards, nobles, ladies, children. The fires of rage start to fill his eyes. He grinds his teeth, lifting his sword over his shoulder and walking out to the training field in the back. The rage continues to build up. This will not end well for whoever's ending up on the other end of his sword

Every remaining monster is gathered in the field, waiting for... something. He walks up to them, almost mad, deathly staring at all of them. He holds his sword forwards, chanting in a deafening rage, as the runes on his blade start to glow in a light blue color. It is not ice, however, it is something much more powerful and elegant... Divine magic. He has finally mustered the deepest of will within his soul, the gods have sent their power to Markus, and he has opened his arms to accept it.

He unleashes his rage, slashing left and right, slaughtering the monsters, faster than a dire wolf and madder than an ox. Not one of them could lay an arm on him, he is too wild to be stopped.

He stops to a halt, however, as the mist starts creeping up across the field, and a dark figure starts to lower itself from the sky ...

"Did you miss me?"

Markus walks a few feet closer, puffing ice-cold smoke as he pants like a raging bull. The Dark Lord gracefully drops to the ground on his feet and raises his blade.

"We meet again, coward." cries the prince, fire still burning in his eyes as he stares him down.

"I'm not the one who ran."

"Well, I am here now." says Markus, pointing his sword towards him, quickly enchanting it with ice and divinity as he stands. "Let us settle this."

The Dark Lord dashes at him, trying to impale him with his sword, but the prince parries it almost instantly. He swipes his sword leftwards and goes for another jab, but the Dark Lord parries it almost as instantaneously as he does.

They continue to duel and parry, until they both strike their swords in such force that sparks start to fly, letting out a deafening CLING!

Markus starts to hum as he holds his parry, trying his hardest to keep his composure. The Dark Lord notices, and he punches him in the torso, sending him flying back and almost cracking his lungs open. He kneels on the ground, struggling to breathe and raise his voice back to an exhausted chant as he stands once more, raising a large ice crystal in front of himself.

"Hiding again?"

"Actually," says the prince, grinning, "this is for you."

The crystal dislodges itself from the ground and launches itself at the Dark Lord, who jumps a few feet off the ground and spins, kicking the crystal and shattering it to pieces, before he drops to the ground, laughing.

"Is that all you got?"

"Not quite."

Three summoned wolves suddenly pounce on the Dark Lord from behind while he isn't paying attention, dropping him to the ground. He struggles to push them off, angrily, as the prince starts to chant some more, creating several cones of ice in the sky, preparing to fire them at the Dark Lord.

"You love your wolves."

Markus starts to send the cones down at him at full speed. The Dark Lord smiles, giving off a short laugh, before he releases a blast of dark mana around himself, instantly pulverizing the wolves and the cones, and throwing Markus back once more, causing him to hit a fallen rock from the castle with his back.

"Insolent fool! You wield a wooden sword in a fight to the death, your insolence and lack of reason amuses and almost entertains me ... You haven't a clue who you are fighting!"

The Dark Lord raises his sword once more, his eyes start to glow their dark glow of mana. He dashes at Markus, who struggles to parry his blow, but at a force that knocks his balance even further.

Markus rages, toughening his grip and channeling all his power. His eyes start to show a small glow of light blue as he starts screaming, extremely enraged.

"I do!" he screams. "... Assface!"

His sword starts glowing even more, almost matching the Dark Lord's power. They hold their parry, emitting an aura of mana and power and blinding light from around themselves.

"You are a disgrace to your people. You are weak. Leave them to me, I will treat them better. I am more worthy."

"The only thing you are worthy of... is a painful death!" cries the prince. "One that would do justice to the hundreds of thousands to which you have caused pain and suffering your entire life!"

As the power burning between them becomes too intense, the parry is broken by a huge blast and a white light that momentarily blinds every single observer's vision.

A moment of silence, as a high-pitched rinnnnng hovers about.

As their vision clears, and the sound calms, we could see that the dark lord had been sent crashing back, laying on the grass several feet away from where he stood, dazed. Markus approaches him, breathing heavily, rage almost encasing his aura, eyes glowing in a hypnotic and absorbing light blue, puffing frost out of his nostrils and his mouth, eyes wide open and glowing as he walks closer.

"You have caused this world enough peril, dark one!" he cries. The dark lord widens his eyes, for the first time in forever, as he gets up, holding on to his sword, attempting to slash at Markus, but he doesn't get the chance as Markus freezes his right arm with his breath, without a single chant or a note even, and slashes at his arm, chopping it clean off.

The dark lord screeches in pain, walking back, terrified, his dreams are crumbling in front of his eyes, all the fighting and struggling, all the lives he took and the lives he had hoped to take under his wings, it's over. Markus intimidatingly walks towards him, staring him in the eyes, head tilted downwards in a mad manner. The dark lord attempts to punch him, but Markus holds his hand, not breaking his mad stare, as he twists his arm and breaks it in a deafening snap.

The dark lord screeches once more, before he trips on a rock and falls, crawling back.

"No ... No!"

A ray of light emits from Markus's sword. He slashes at his broken arm with it, dismembering him once again. The dark lord struggles to push himself back with his two feet, almost as if he were trying to swim away from Markus who approaches him like an ocean of rage. He looks around himself, at his two chopped arms. He starts panting, in utter fear, Markus walks up, towering above him.

"This cannot be ... You possess the hand of divinity ... But how? How could I be killed by the hand of a mortal prince?! I am the Dark Lord!"

"And I am Prince Markus Wyvern of Nexonin, first-born son of King Harry Wyvern." he says, lifting his sword above his head for a final blow. "Before you meet the gods you have always loathed, and so have they you, remember these words... The light shall always prevail."

Before he could land his strike, a large figure smashes through the castle walls, it is Hod. He stops at a distance as he sees Markus on top of the dark lord, preparing to strike. He freezes in place, losing his laughing manner from earlier and adopting a more shocked expression.

"Impossible..." says Hod, moving two steps back, staring at the scene in fear.

Jon and Emit approach the castle walls, tired.

"Quick! We need to catch up!" cries Jon.

The herd of pigs from earlier suddenly runs through their feet, knocking Emit down and almost Jon, causing him to lose his balance, but he quickly regains. In a fit of rage, he kicks one of the pigs in the butt.

"Fucking pigs!" he cries.

The pig strays away from its herd and goes rogue, it runs into the castle walls.

Suddenly, the rogue pig starts to glow, an eerie, otherworldly white glow, for almost four seconds before it returns to normal. What was that about?

They walk through the castle walls and see Markus. Quickly, they approach him and stand between Hod and the Prince. Emit unsheathes his sword and points it at Hod.

"Stand back!" cries Emit.

Tamer casually walks into the scene, appearing to almost lose his calm as he sees the dark lord topped in front of him, but still managing to keep his composure. Mistman, still not completely healed, creeps up with his mist surrounding the field, watching. Hybrid watches in the distance, with almost no expression on his face.

"Any of you freaks come any closer and I'll chop his head off myself!" cries Jon, unsheathing a sword from one of the royal guards' dead bodies on the ground and pointing it at the dark lord's neck. The dark lord turns to him, still panting.

"You can't do that." says Tamer, giving him a wide, confident grin. "If you kill him yourself, you would ruin the prophecy, and I don't think you want to do that."

"I am a man who lost everything." says Jon, staring Tamer in the eyes. "You think I give a fuck about the prophecy?"

Tamer is slightly taken back. He's dead fucking serious. Jon looks them all in the eyes, almost mad-mannered, prepared to chop the dark lord's head off if anything happens. He glances back at Markus, signalling him to get on with it. Markus very slightly nods and turns back to the wards.

"Perhaps we could reach some uh... some sort of agreement, eh?" says Hod, nervously.

"We will leeeeave, foreverrrr.." says Mistman, in a shaky tone of voice.

"I can't trust an agreement with your kind." says Markus, turning back to the dark lord, staring into his eyes. "Say your final words, assface. Be creative."

The dark lord doesn't utter a word, accepting his defeat ... right? He's accepting his defeat, right?

No, wait, he's smiling now, looking Markus in the eye, a trickle of light almost flashing through his own eyes. Markus lifts his blade, preparing to bring it down.

"Then, by the gods up in the skies, and fate that had bestowed this power upon me..." cries Markus. "I declare that the prophecy has been-"

He couldn't even finish his sentence before the rogue pig from earlier runs into his feet, knocking him down and causing him to drop to the ground, snapping his neck and dying instantly.

Everyone gasps in shock, everyone except Jon who hasn't turned his stare away from the wards. Noticing their sudden change of expression, he turns to look at what they are all shocked about, and sees the prince, dead. He freezes, dropping his sword and to his knees, all hope and strength escaping him.

"No!" cries Emit, dropping his sword as well, looking around himself, still trying to make sense of everything. He runs up to the prince, getting on his knees and shaking his body, a tear almost drops from his eye.

"It-it-it can't be!" cries Emit. "You are not dead! No no no... You aren't! You cannot die you can't- you can't bloody die out here yet!"

Rain pours once again, heavier than it had ever poured, steaming, hot rain, washing away the blood and the tears... Rivers of water mixed with blood run across the city, and the mist blows away, revealing all the dead men and women, the children and animals, of the kingdom, as the monsters roam about, looting their dead bodies and empty homes, sacking the carriages, pillaging the kingdom and claiming it as their own.

"Get up, you silly prince! You are not dead!" cries Emit, panting, still shaking the prince, but to no avail. Blood starts trickling down Markus's mouth. Emit's voice starts to shake up as he notices the blood, and he starts to wipe it with his hand. "No no no no no... You cannot die! I will bloody kill you!! Get up, your highness... Bloody get up and show them- show the dark lord your- your- g- get up and bloody kill them all! ... get up, Mark!! You bloody piece of shit, get up!! Fuck you!!"

Mistman disappears into the distance. The thunder wyvern drops by Tamer, lowering its back as he rides onto it and soars into the sky, with a victorious expression on his face. Hod lets out the most characteristically loud and maniacal laugh you could ever hear out of him, all while Hybrid stands in the distance, watching, still without the trace of an expression on his face.

All the wards have left the area, with the Dark Lord, who casually stands up and starts to float away, his arms growing back again slowly. He looks back one more time at Jon, who is still on his knees, devastated and frozen, and gives off a short laugh before he leaves.

In an even farther distance, atop one of the small hills near the city, the cloaked time traveler stands, smirking. He watches the storm rage atop the city and the steam and mist surround it. He nods in approval.

"Now, the run begins." he says, as he takes a step back and disappears once again into what seems to be an invisible portal.

Amidst the rubble and the mess, a crazed old man walks atop the bodies of the dead, with old rags and a familiar mane that resembles a lion's. He lumbers across all the dead bodies, eyes wide open, gazing into the distance. He chants in a crazed manner-

"When the seeds grow into flames, and the men are toppled by dames, when the mist rises high and darkens the days ... The dead of the fallen shall lay!"

"The cocks laying havoc instead of eggs, the wards of darkness among the dead, the angels forseeing above the heads ... Of the dead and the souls that stray ..."

"Piss, tears and flames! Flames, tears and piss! The wails and the grunts and the trails of the blood, smudging down all the bliss!"

Outside the Nexonish walls, a large trail of bodies covers the ground. Blood, flames, steaming hot rain, debris, and chaos, but mostly ... post-war quietness. That moment of silence when it's all over.

One of the dead bodies starts to rise, as a living person beneath it starts to wake up. It is Scar. He breathes heavily, struggling for air and holding his throat, looking around himself, covered in blood and sweat and rain. He watches all the dead men around himself, and fear starts to cloud his mind.

"Oh no..." he says to himself, as he looks at the city walls, now in complete ruins. "Cece... Laura..."

He stands up, searching under the bodies for his sword. After a short moment, he finds it not too far away. He takes it and starts running back to the city.

"Cece!" he cries. "Laura! Shit!"

He stops in his place after hearing a silent wheeze of a dying man, he looks under his feet to find his own dear friend, Billy, his body split in two by a cut that runs from the top of his right thigh and up to his waist from the left, his liver lies on the ground, also split in two, an insane amount of blood staining the grass underneath him, and more leaving his body. His eyes blood-coloured, his face pale as ice and his lips dry as a desert. In utter shock, Scar bows to help him, but he has absolutely no idea how this could be helped.

"Billy! Oh my gods, Billy are you- shit!" cries Scar. "Does it hurt?!"

"I can't feel a thing, Scar." whimpers Billy, struggling to breathe enough to say his words fully. "From the neck down, nothing, but I'm... I'm passing out, it's getting all fuzzy, I think I'm dying."

"I..." Scar starts to say, but there is nothing that can be said here, it is a shocking sight that he could barely process. He gazes at him, completely frozen. Billy barely musters the energy to move his eyeballs to meet his.

"Just do this for me, save your wife, and that little girl that... little devil, Cece, heh..."

Scar backs away, still terrified and shocked, he once again makes a run for the Capitol's walls. It is a new quest for this man.

The training field behind the castle is completely empty and quiet now, save for the dead bodies and the debris. The only living man still standing is Jon, rather, kneeling. He remains as he is when we left him, on his knees, still trying to process his shock, his mouth and eyes wide open, and he is still.

He finally closes his mouth, still gazing into the distance. He gets up, looking to the ground, grinding his teeth as anger starts to overcome his mind. He walks to the prince's dead body. He looks at him with a deep expression of grief, slightly raising his eyebrows and taking a breath before he lays his fingers on his lifeless eyes to shut them. He walks up beside him and grabs his old sword, the one that he gave to Markus. He stares into his own reflection on the sword, slightly smudged with blood. His face burns with rage.

It is time ...

For some fucking revenge.

Chapter 10: When The Mist Blows Away - Part Two

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