Shadow of the Abyss

Fuming a great ball of fire in his chest, Cedric gritted his teeth against one another, shaking in his corner, watching Altair dance with the Chosen of Sepith. Never before had he wanted to kill a man more than he did today.

Reese's jaw had been shattered, his face destroyed, and his skull fractured in so many places he wasn't even sure Amilia could aid him. Not without her equipment. And the only medical offer better than her was Altair, who outright refused aid.

He hadn't even bothered to reply when Cedric asked him to help Amilia. He just smiled before being herded off by Aria.

"Bastards!" He hissed beneath his breath. Searching through the room for the Sword of the King. But even now, Cedric couldn't spot him nor the Archbishop, who had vanished with the Oathkeeper. He cursed his luck. For eight months, he had been trying to figure out what the Church was hiding and what this dungeon quest was. Eight months later… And he was nowhere.

The only thing the Church seemed to be worried about was the little girls' rite and sometimes the demons on the wall. And at times, Reina.

"I can't kill him yet…" Cedric hissed, walking down from the spire and into one of the wards that rested Reese, being tended to by Amilia and a few Sisters of the Sepith.

"How is he?"

Amilia frowned, looking up at him. "There is some brain damage. But all in all, we've managed to repair most of the damage."

"We?" Cedric glanced at the Sisters. He hadn't much faith in the knowledge of this backwatered kingdom.

"Yes. We. I've been teaching the Sisters every chance I got. And they've been teaching me about Aidios." Amilia said, giving her thanks to the Sisters of Sepith. She shifted her gaze to Cedric. "Reese should not use any spells for the next month.

His Mana Roots are heavily damaged. He must have tried to enhance his physical attributes, hoping it would allow him to survive. He did more damage than good."

"He was trying to survive," Cedric insisted.

"Whatever the case, he needs time to rest alongside a place to live." She chuckled when she saw the look on Cedric's face. " Did you really think Altair would allow the person who ordered Reina to be killed and raped to live with him?" She laughed, nearly tumbling over. " Cedric, are you high? Or is your head so far up your ass you're taking in what you're spewing out?"

Cedric was cold as stone.

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"You'd better start worrying about where you'll be staying, too. Or did you forget Altair owns that building?" She smiled, patting his shoulder as she left him alone.

'Bastard,' Cedric said, alone and defeated.

***

Like a bear towering over a kitten, Altair awkwardly danced with Little Aria as she cheered, grinning. She had liked the glow of the moon, and the winds felt nice, whisking through her hair when he whirled her about like a princess. She giggled.

"Again! Again!" She sang, only to notice the strange expression on Altair's face. And she hadn't been the only one.

"Art?" Reina called to him, but the boy was still.

As if caught in a daze, a sudden buzzing wheezed through his ear like the aftermath of an explosion. A gentle whisper sung through his mind.

Reina went to him, frowning as more and more people began to look at him.

"Barrior," He said, turning to meet Fat Mike's eye. "BARRIER!!!!!"

And as fast as he could speak, Fat Mike followed, invoking his barrier into a hexagonal domain faster than most could blink. He had questions, but before they could be asked, it came like a gale of death.

Louder than an erupting volcano, the winds became a gale, and the gale a vicious whirlwind that roared and howled, uprooting stones that shattered to dust, shredding the spire to nothing.

Fat Mike's barrier splintered and cracked as he tried to hold and channel more mana into a barrier. Sheens of sweat dripped from the folds of his fatty cheeks, thick as a pig's. He roared and gave the earth a stomp. Webs shrieked around the base of his foot, and the ground shattered, plunging everyone through the tower below the moment Fat Mike's barrier shattered.

Nobles screamed, tumbling down the serpentine steps in chaos. Curses and groans, followed by pleading, echoed out before anyone could get a grip.

"Aria!" Lord Edwin shouted, his voice thick with panic, but all he saw were panic screams and the faces of wretched men and women scrambling past each other, pushing, shoving, and kicking at one another. "ARIA!" he called louder.

"I got her!" Altair shouted at the bottom of the tower that had forced him to chant Feather Foot lest he risk injury to his legs or, worse, his spine. Around him lay nearly ten noblemen, sprawled about at odd angles where they lay dead, as a pool slowly began to gather around their bodies.

He was looking up at the empty spire cut clean apart as if done by a sword rather than a spell.

"Run!"

He bolted off his feet, cutting through the Aisle, and the echos of explosion erupted. Debris flashed, and stones whirled about, striking at Altair's and Reina's barrier. They moved, unsure what had happened, but the heat of flames was everywhere, dark and violet… much like his mana. Flames roiled through the Aisle, burning through the decor, scorching away at paintings that hung high.

"Baelfire!' shouted Ren. "Don't let it touch you!"

Altair grimaced. His barrier was already distorting. And while he was sure he could bear the flame's heat. Aria could not. Soon, shadows flickered through the flames, followed by laughter that sounded like a saw on metal.

"There she is! The Chosen of Astaroth! Get the girl!"

Altair spotted three, but it was Reina who moved, conjuring her Greatsword from Drupnir. Her blade sawed through a hooded figure before he could act.

[Herald of Astaroth Felled. Exp Gained]

Spotting two more approaching through the flames, Reina glanced at Altair.

"You lead!" He told her, hoisting Aria to his back, he said, "Hold on tight and never let go."

Without time to worry about how the heralds manage to invade the Church's walls, Altair conjured his Hunting Bow and knocked the magical string. Power imbued itself into a magical arrow that billowed like a flame, black as night, and aimed directly at the two dual-circle heralds.

He fired twice.

When the arrows landed, the top half of the Heralds became vaporized in a mist of red, washing over the flames. Their lower half dropped before gushing out like a fountain.

[Herald of Astaroth Felled. Exp Gained]

[Herald of Astaroth Felled. Exp Gained]

Reina took off, cutting through magical flames by imbuing her blade with mana when needed, without much hope of extinguishing the Baelfire. She felt her blood ignite in the face of these demonic flames. Her senses heightened, expanding out for nearly a hundred meters. Echos of footsteps and whispers all entered her ears with each of her steps forward.

Suddenly, she stopped and signaled to Altair to do the same. When two Heralds came out from around the corner, her Greatsword swept through their bodies, claiming their lives.

"How many of them do you think there are?" Altair asked.

"I can't tell. The Church is fighting back. There is noise everywhere." Reina stated, glaring at the purple-black flame. She turned to Aria, clinging so tight to Altair she dared not even open her eyes. "Aria, how do we get to the sanctuary?"

"I—"

Booooooom!, Drowned by an explosion that shattered the windows, Altair groaned, feeling a large expenditure of mana leave him. He re-casted his barrier as shards of glass, stone, and flames crashed down around him. He pushed forward with Reina, trusting his Primal Instincts. They moved straight through a set of table doors into the Atrium.

"Hells." He uttered, staring at nearly twenty men on the ground, butchered like animals on a farm. Limbs and entrails lay sprawled out over the ground, where they burned beneath the violet-black flames. Above the corpses stood the cold, lifeless black masks of the Sisters of Silence. They eyed him coldly, their swords and daggers dark and wet with the blood of their enemies.

Their gaze softened when they saw their frightened Chosen cling to Altair.

"We are heading to the Sanctuary. Is it safe?" Reina said.

The Sisters neither gestured nor spoke. Silent as the dead, even their gazes seemed without feeling.

Altair growled at their foolish Oath of Silence they made. And clenched his eyes shut. He merged his eyesight with his Fallen Ravens scattered throughout Forwin.

"Art—"

"Give me a sec," he said, giving himself a bird's eye view of the Hell surrounding the Cathedral. Twelve caped figures hovered circling the skies, standing on magical circles acting like platforms. They gestured hand signs that did not remotely seem possible for human physiology. And yet they stood banded together, connected by a thin line of mana slowly growing more corporeal second by second.

From nearly a hundred miles, the mana shone like endless glimmers, taking the breath of mortal men plunging into the Hell around them.

The Raven flapped its wings, soaring beneath the center of the circle where all points of the circle met. There, he saw through the Ravens eyes a small pristine crack. So perfect it stood within the elements of wind and fire and of space and time; it seemed untouched. And yet… it gave off a familiar stench. One of fire and brimstone.

"Give it back," He heard, distantly as if said in a whisper.

"Give it back."

"Give it back."

The voices were growing louder, echoing like the distant drum of the battlefield, growing louder and louder until the voice roared.

"GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!!"