Reial’s blood ran cold as a scream ripped through the air like a thunderclap. He whirled around to face the darkness at what should’ve been the holy center. “Charette?” He called.

Close.

A low, threatening growl rumbled from the void before it devolved into a ferocious series of barks that would’ve intimidated even nezerine. Drogs may appear friendly, but they could rip out the throat of a man as easily as any other wild beast.

That bark, he hadn’t heard it since… Memories of men lying in puddles of their own blood flashed in his mind. Charette limp on the floor. No, he wasn’t that helpless kid from before. He knew he was strong enough to handle whatever was thrown at him. The Empyreans and Almagest have given him that much, right? They cared.

His knees buckled with every step as he moved closer to the source. Scorch’s barks were reduced to muffled whimpers as Charette grunted and groaned, trying to escape from whatever had captured her.

Reial’s heart pounded in his chest. He knew he could do this, whatever was there, he knew he could make it bend to his will. All he had to do was be brave. Wasn’t that why God had blessed them with this strength? So why couldn’t he do it?

The floor beneath him continued to bend and bend and bend until his feet lost purchase and he began to sink into the stones. They bubbled like tar, holding him in place until he felt something slip around his waist and pull him free.

Then he came face to face with it.

Too close.

The voice buzzed in his mind like a discordant choir of women, men and children.

Too close. I told you not to come too close.

Reial’s being fizzled like a dying firework as the thing latched onto a distant shard of him. It pulled, and pulled, and pulled, trying to rip him from this reality as his own memories and voice became distant matters of the past.

Stop struggling.

The entity peeled away at the defenses around Reial’s being, exposing it the intolerant air of which it should’ve never known. Stability, meaningless laws of nature and physics, chemical compounds, language, and even thoughts were nothing more than a desperate attempt to string together his plane of existence. It was too much, he wanted to cease…cease existing? Believing?

Good. We like it when you listen. I like it when you listen. Why couldn’t you listen back then too?

With a shaky head, Reial turned to find Charette struggling and kicking against…what was this thing? The area around it was covered in a cloudy dark haze, obscuring its features, save for its arms.

Charette growled with frustration, swallowing a breath of stale air before something sparked at her lips. An explosion of white-hot fire set the room alight, melting the dark clouds around it. Behind its veil, they were met with a charred yet somehow bubbling mass of dark skin. A long pair of gray lips ran from one end of its body to another, like some sort of children’s nightmare. It was formless, though not because it lacked distinguishing features, but because it continued to shift from one form to another.

Humans, horses, insects, reptiles, it was all of them yet none of them as the bubbles writhed around its body.

Charette continued to assault the creature with her blast of fire. Flames streamed around it, curling into wisps of smoke as they were almost immediately extinguished. The thing watched in amusement, or at least what Reial read to be amusement.

Resist? Not effective. Yet can’t affect her either. Not like one or two, possibly three? Or a strong sense of self?

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

When the flames went out after a few seconds, he found Charette staring at the thing in horrific repulsion. Yes, this was it, was it not? The ones that had nearly destroyed their world a thousand years ago.

A Nether Dweller.

But why was it here? Why did no one know about it?

Listen well. It comes. A second time. Not as grand, yet as deadly. Tried once, didn’t work, like this. Not once, but twice. You, you’re like him. Yes, two and three are good too. New, newer than Solis Vaylius would’ve wanted. Can’t stop it from coming, too late. I warned them, they didn’t listen either.

A bolt of thunder roared into being as a charged current streamed about the Nether Dweller, erupting into a blindingly hot flash of blue light. The force alone cracked Reial’s barrier. Unfortunately, it had done little to silence the Things mad ramblings.

Strange, when I give warnings, They don’t tell you about the danger. Tell the others of this.

A chilly gust of wind froze the arms holding them, allowing him and Charette to slip out and sink back into the immovable tar. Another pair of arms arose from the pit, grabbing them tightly, almost crushing them.

Charette gasped. “Rail!”

Reial struggled weakly against its grip. Veil Striders had an uncanny ability to sense danger and attacks, so why wasn’t he warned about this?

Listen. Closely.

“Rail!” Charette cried desperately.

Could it have something to do with those whispers? Why would a Nether Dweller warn them to begin with? He thought they were nothing more than forces of destruction like the legends said.

Something pulled on Reial’s pants legs. When he looked down, he found Scorch clinging to him for dear life. He was already neck-deep in the tar.

This Thing didn’t care if Scorch lived or died. It was just an animal to Them. Then again, Nether Dwellers didn’t care about people either. They had decimated their world for the simple joy of it.

Beings of immense powers that far outshone even theirs. These were the twisted abominations parents used to prevent their children from sneaking out at night. They had brought the world to its knees, but not Veil Striders. Nether Dwellers bent before them.

Rifts tore through the darkness, leaking twin-streams of ruby sparks that congregated around Reial. Their once human thoughts granting him an unparalleled burst of strength. The tar beneath him distorted to show a plain stone floor, granting Scorch the opportunity to claw his way up and wrap himself around Reial.

Ruby sparks danced along the Nether Dwellers’ trunk-like arm as Reial slammed his hands down on it. Pushing and pushing and pushing against the abominations failing strength until he heard something snap. The pressure around his waist disappeared as the arm fell limply to the side, hanging by a thread of black flesh.

A shrill, earsplitting screech erupted from the entity, causing a minor crack in Reial’s barrier. He spun on his feet as he drew the blade from its scabbard; revealing glittering golden plasma that shone like the corona of a sun.

With an arcing sweep of his blade, he cut cleanly through the arm clutching Charette. Severing its connection from the tar as the room was suddenly engulfed in the light of day. Reial darted to her hanging figure, scooping her out of the air. Heart pounding in his chest and with blade in hand, he made his way for the stairwell. He expected the sword to shatter upon impact with the wall, but instead, it glided through it like a hot knife through butter, erasing every stone that resisted its touch.

As soon as he took his second Stride, he was out. It was such an abrupt and jarring change that—if it weren’t for his powers—he would’ve stumbled and fell. Skidding across the heaps of rubble in a shower of sparks, he twisted around to face the shed.

He calmed his racing heart as he stared down the inky abyss, gripping the sword tightly in his hand; waiting for the moment when the Nether Dweller would come crawling out of its den to attack them. Instead, he was subjected to more of its mad howling. It melded with the rustling of the leaves So easy to ignore, so easy to pass by. This place was forgotten for a good reason. To keep it sealed down there.

The blade’s plasma lapped at the air, consuming its own rays of light that were glinting off the silvery hilt. It didn’t feel real, even the heat it produced was a sign of that. Not fire, but pure, raw, energy. Almost Essence-like. Passionate.

This was what he meant by one-of-a-kind. Reial noted. How Eston acquired a Weapon of Fervor at a fair price was beyond him. They were treasures unto themselves. Second only to Silk in worth.

Charette squirmed out of his grip, her chest heaving as if she were trying to calm herself.

“Charette…” He began.

“I’m fine.”

“You know what that was, right?”

She didn’t look at him. “Yeah.”

Scorch trembled, staring down the shed. What could he say at a moment like this? When they rediscovered an ancient, trapped evil? Still, the way it acted, how it spoke and rambled on. That was nothing like the ancient tales spoke of. Why did it care to warn them in the first place?

“Listen well. It comes. A second time. Not as grand, yet as deadly.” Was a second invasion going to happen? No, it said that it had tried to warn them before. This was different. Different how? He asked himself. There was no definitive answer, only a vague idea that stemmed from the far corner of his mind, like a misty thought. Was that the voice’s doing? Hyvas, this was all too much.