A
Aldren Cordale
Aldren and Fèlen walked a narrow path filled with webs and graves, some even cracked, the flow of dark magic that emanated from them being easily noticed in the air, scratching at the pair as the air got even more cold. A slow laugh was heard, echoing from beyond the deep burrows of the crypt, growing in sound as they both stepped inside another room, this one now with a single tomb at the center.
Next to it was the cloaked man, his eyes burning with blue flames. Even in the dark, his evil smirk was clear as he lifted his arms, the whole place beginning to shake like in a earthquake.
The wait was deadly, but after the moment of desperation, nothing happened. Aldren looked around, confused as to why nothing had happened and how he still felt the same as before. That's when a hand creeped to his shoulder, a man appearing next to the pair.
"I didn't take you for a frightened pup, Cordale. What happened?", the familiar tone stung at his very heart, Aldren instantly recognizing the man beside him as his eyes widened in shocked, fixed on him.
His clothes were different from the ones he used to wear, but that scar over his right eye and the elegant beard gave it all away. Riss, his dead master.
"R-Riss?", the question came muffed, his eyes still refusing to believe what was in front of them. He touched the man's arm, realizing that he was of flesh and bone, and not some spirit or illusion.
"You fool. You disgrace our Holy Order by bringing this dark being here!", the man spit out his harsh words while looking at Fèlen, pointing at her afterwards.
"There's nothing dark about her. She's a friend!", Aldren disagreed, loudly. Not a second later, he was faced with a blade inches to his neck, Riss' eyes alit with the same magical blue flames from the cloaked man, his own dark magic working to creep onto Fèlen and keep her at bay.
"You failed again, boy. But there's a chance to undo all of your mistakes. Take this and kill her, put an end to this darkness and we will walk free!", Aldren stuttered as he listened to those words, every ounce of happiness inside him after seeing his old Master now obliterated. He looked at Fèlen, eyes filled with desperation. A moment later, he now held the blade against the nymph, arms tense trying to hold it back against a unknown force that kept it close to the woman, trying to control Aldren's very movement.
"Kill her, boy! Do not fail me again!"
"I... won't!", with all his strength, Aldren tapped into his deep magic, eyes shining white as a wave of force echoed through the room, releasing them of their dark shackles and allowing Aldren to take control of his body again, swinging the blade around and driving it into Riss.
The very fabric of reality of that room seemed to waver and break as the illusion was defeated. Aldren now held no blade, and there was another mercenary's corpse at his feet. His eyes were with tears, and his heart was relieved to see that he and Fèlen were still alive. And for that short moment, they felt as if the air was lighter, as if there was no dark magic around.
Until the voice was heard again, and another burst of light took place, now opening another way across the room. Aldren grew impatient with all those illusions, stepping with purpose towards the door to the next test.
Next to it was the cloaked man, his eyes burning with blue flames. Even in the dark, his evil smirk was clear as he lifted his arms, the whole place beginning to shake like in a earthquake.
'You stomp on sacred ground, feet dirty with sin. Why do you not fear the embrace from beyond?'
The voice from deep within the crypt spoke again, as if it was right there, next to them. As their very sights were blinded with a burst of light, Aldren let the torch he was carrying fall to the ground, runes on the floor beginning to be lit with the fire. Suddenly, he felt a crack inside him, the protective wards from Fèlen breaking as the runes' magic flowed inside him, stunning him for a second.
The wait was deadly, but after the moment of desperation, nothing happened. Aldren looked around, confused as to why nothing had happened and how he still felt the same as before. That's when a hand creeped to his shoulder, a man appearing next to the pair.
"I didn't take you for a frightened pup, Cordale. What happened?", the familiar tone stung at his very heart, Aldren instantly recognizing the man beside him as his eyes widened in shocked, fixed on him.
His clothes were different from the ones he used to wear, but that scar over his right eye and the elegant beard gave it all away. Riss, his dead master.
"R-Riss?", the question came muffed, his eyes still refusing to believe what was in front of them. He touched the man's arm, realizing that he was of flesh and bone, and not some spirit or illusion.
"You fool. You disgrace our Holy Order by bringing this dark being here!", the man spit out his harsh words while looking at Fèlen, pointing at her afterwards.
"There's nothing dark about her. She's a friend!", Aldren disagreed, loudly. Not a second later, he was faced with a blade inches to his neck, Riss' eyes alit with the same magical blue flames from the cloaked man, his own dark magic working to creep onto Fèlen and keep her at bay.
"You failed again, boy. But there's a chance to undo all of your mistakes. Take this and kill her, put an end to this darkness and we will walk free!", Aldren stuttered as he listened to those words, every ounce of happiness inside him after seeing his old Master now obliterated. He looked at Fèlen, eyes filled with desperation. A moment later, he now held the blade against the nymph, arms tense trying to hold it back against a unknown force that kept it close to the woman, trying to control Aldren's very movement.
"Kill her, boy! Do not fail me again!"
"I... won't!", with all his strength, Aldren tapped into his deep magic, eyes shining white as a wave of force echoed through the room, releasing them of their dark shackles and allowing Aldren to take control of his body again, swinging the blade around and driving it into Riss.
The very fabric of reality of that room seemed to waver and break as the illusion was defeated. Aldren now held no blade, and there was another mercenary's corpse at his feet. His eyes were with tears, and his heart was relieved to see that he and Fèlen were still alive. And for that short moment, they felt as if the air was lighter, as if there was no dark magic around.
'The door opens, little ones... Come and face me...'
Until the voice was heard again, and another burst of light took place, now opening another way across the room. Aldren grew impatient with all those illusions, stepping with purpose towards the door to the next test.