“I’m happy you did.”

--

Rowan gasped as blood dripped down his mouth, heaves and coughs were heard from him. “Why would you do this Aion?” Lyra asked raising her staff as Teyarine and the hooded man approached them. Aion smiled softly at her with a disturbing gaze in his face, he said nothing as he pushed the blade dug a bit deeper. Rowan gasped out in pain.

“Answer her Aion.” Wilhein yelled out with shock “Why?”

“Because he needs to.” He replied with a tilt of his head. “You won’t understand since you don’t know.”

Lyra gripped her staff so tight her knuckles turned pale.

“He’s a murderer.”

Suddenly a rumbling was felt throughout the guild house as the smell of ash filled the room. The ceiling suddenly collapsed as 3 council masters landed behind the two intruders.

Lyra had to move quick, she bolted for Rowan’s sword, she grasped the rather heavy blade. She swung upwards, slicing the long white blade in half, shattering like glass. She yelped as the heavy blade clattered against the marble floor.  Aion jolted backwards in surprise as he pulled out his whip but immediately dodged again as Torrik swiped at him. “Tyrl.” Wilhein casted as a portal opened under their feet and they fell through to meet the council masters on the other side. Lyra held Rowan

“We heard the ne-oh damn. Triumvir.” Poltius greeted as he casted a barrier as a golem threw large piece of rubble at the group. They flinched as the rubble crumbled to pieces “Gilgar had a hunch.” Venimir said as she threw a dagger and Imbedded Itself into the other golem. A hissing noise was heard. “Scavarath.”

Black smog wrapped itself around the golem before solidifying and wrapping the being in a serpent with pitch black scales.

“But we didn’t expect the brother, the head guild master. We assumed a lower profile. But ruling two guilds, how….barbaric. pitiful.” Gilgar explained as he pulled out his scroll strapped to his back and chanted once more.  It was the native tongue of orcs.

“uz be thad fi cop la!”

The ground rumbled and shifted; four white beams erupted around them. Lyra grasped the blade imbedded in Rowan. “This might hurt.” She reassured.

“This WILL hurt.” Rowan winced loudly.

“What’s your favorite spell?” She asked.

“Why would yo-AGHHH.” He howled in pain as she quickly pulled it out his chest. She doesn’t have time to assess the damage. She opened her palm over his chest and raised her staff.

“Sivpoli.” She exclaimed and tapped his chest with the edge of her staff. A green aura enveloped the wound but didn’t subside when she pulled back her hand. He felt a wave of peace consume him. It felt warm and it was soothing. It reminded him of a peaceful farm. It was making him itch. “This won’t las as long as a cleric’s work but it would do.”

She looked up as the four beams made a barrier. “This would keep us safe.” Gilgar assured.

Aion’s eyes turned pitch black as he raised his whip. He snapped it as it went hard, turning it into a lance. His voice growled as he approached the barrier.

“Arcana was always weak. This guild is weak.” He said stabbing the tip on the barrier, its light flickering as the he pushed deeper. “You decided to seal your fate in this box of yours. The raven feathers have stored so much power for so long, you barely scratched it. Barely touched it.”

“My barrier cannot provide protection forever.” Gilgar huffed as he held out his scroll, enforcing the barrier. “We have soldiers in the guild house evacuating the members.” Poltius chimed in. “We can’t let them come to harm.”

Venimir threw another dagger passing through the barrier and hitting Aion’s shoulder. He pulled away and gripped his shoulder. He stared at Rowan in a dull gaze.

“You aren’t leaving alive.” He said as he let go of his shoulder, black smoke billowed around the wound and sealed it. He pulled back his arm and struck a full blow at the barrier. Half embedded through.

“Gilgar…” Torrik trailed off. “We have to take them to Nishal.”

“Only three can pass.”

“Then we shall be vanguards. We stand here.” Poltius replied with an encouraging smile. He faced Lyra and Rowan. “We need you to go to Tumbirine and find Nishal.”

“The elf guard?” she asked as she clutched Rowan’s wound as the light on it started to fade. “He is there for the Elf haven tree, he can assist you. We cannot send you to the fortress, if they hold raven feathers… then they have found the wing. The closest nation to the last stronghold of the wing is nearest there. Get Rowan healed.  Me and the council masters hold here. End this chaos the feathers bring.”

“Wilhein, go with them. They trust a fellow elf. Put them in good hands.” Torrik added. Wilhein backed up the barrier and nodded. “I would do my best. There’s more to this than I thought. Aion isn’t who he said he is.” He grimaced.

“Try and run, I will kill every single person in this capitol and write my name with their blood. Run away and you’ll drop the blade on this capitol’s head.” Aion claimed as he dug the lance deeper and pushed it downward. An opening was starting to show.

“There’s no time.” Torrik growled as she stared down the golems slamming their fists on the barrier on the other side. “We chant now or we die.” Venimir added. “There are enough council masters for this.”

Gilgar rolled up his scroll and readied his axe. They nodded to one another. Lyra looked down to check on Rowan. His wellbeing was quickly degrading.

Rowan was seeing black spots and his head was pounding. He felt helpless as that blade affected him, the wound had a layer of ice as the healing cast faded. The thin layer continued to crawl as his breathing deepened. The elf haven tree? He was sure they welcomed no one but elves. Prideful folk.

“All together.” Poltius said as they stood around the three. Wilhein kneeled next to Lyra as she reassured Rowan. “Stay alive.”

“I’d rather be dead.” He replied earning a soft slap on his forehead.

“Portarum nu diste kiso Huyl po.” The council masters casted as Aion swung again at the barrier, shattering it into bits but the spell was casted as a summoned circle appeared underneath them, slowing sinking into it. Poltius casted one last barrier over the three as Gilgar swung at one golem, successfully cutting an arm off.  Venimir whispered under her breath as she flipped backwards, fading into a purple mist, swiftly swarming towards the hooded man. Torrik swung at Aion but was kicked in the gut, knocking her into the air but quickly recovered as Poltius raised his blade with both hands. She landed on the sword’s flat side on one foot.

They were about to fall into the circle, ready to be transported to Tumbirine. The last thing they heard was Aion’s voice ringing out.

 “When you return brother…”

He felt himself clutch his wound tighter, gritting his teeth as he became tearful.

“Please take the time to enjoy the scenery of you council masters’ heads displayed on wooden spikes.” Aion finished with a smile. A warm one.

The spell finished and they were casted into bright white.

Rowan felt a tear slip.

--

A bird’s carcass laid on the grass as its innards were poked at by a knife.

“My aim is getting better.” A boy giggled. He stood up and turned to face the visitor

His identical twin stood there behind a middle-aged man who was holding a sword. The boy clutched his cheek as tears fell.

“I want the world to die and it will burn.”

The clanging of steal was heard as silence followed.