“Erythis! Get back!” The old knight bellowed worriedly as
his fiery tressed companion charged their opponent. The clack of heels echoed
off the cavernous chamber they battled in, and her crimson robes billowed out
behind her, pale calves peeking out with each footfall. Her staff was held in
both hands, almost like a pike, though was engulfed in flames. Though
Vynlarion’s protestations fell on deaf ears as she hurried past him and toward
the towering foe before them.
The enormous room around them stretched fifty feet in either
direction, the walls rounded into a perfect circle and arching up to a dome
fifty feet above them. From the peak of the ceiling hung a chandelier which was
arranged in circular layers, the fattest of which was at the centre. Candles
flickered on each level, casting long, ominous shadows around them.
Vynlarion’s face contorted in anger and concern as Erythis
moved, his own form covered in heavy golden plate and a crimson cloak, torn and
ragged, hung off his back. A broadsword, also dark red in colouration, was held
in one hand. Erythis was in little better shape, her crimson robe, intended to
be light and airy, was heavy with her own blood. The garment was torn, revealing
blood stained pale skin. Runes danced across her figure whilst the Light danced
off the knight’s armour.
Equally red hair billowed out around the triumphant figure,
her body covered in a silver, skin tight fabric, revealing every curve and
accentuation. Looming over even the already tall Vynlarion and Erythis, their
exotic foe seemed a giant in comparison. In one fell swoop, their pale skinned
enemy grasped the conflagrating staff, stopping the fiery sorceress. A
shockwave of magic echoed outward, rippling robes and cloaks alike.
Vynlarion was forced a step back, his cloak and hair
billowing outward, the grasped staff cracking down its length. “Let go, curse
you!” He commanded, feeling entirely powerless as the two mages battled.
However, as Erythis looked back to him, her staff shattered, and she was sent
through the air before collapsing into a heap.
Blood pooled around the fiery haired lady. Trembling as she
tried to stand, she failed and collapsed downward, her verdant eyes looking
mournfully to Vynlarion, her head leaking blood from her forehead, covering
half her face in misery. “Erythis!” The silver hair lord bellowed, hurrying to
her side. However an explosion of pain erupted in his midsection. Grey locks
tumbling forward, he found a staff, the one owned by their enemy, impaled
through his stomach.
Collapsing forward, he found himself face to face with
Erythis, her eyes dim and unfocused. “Erythis,” Vynlarion spoke weakly, his
gauntleted hand reaching out to hers, grasping it weakly. Their foe slowly
circled them, as silent as she had always been. “I am sorry…” He coughed, blood
oozing out of his mouth, “… to get you into this…”
Her eyes flickered toward him, a moment of recognition
passing over her face, “My dear knight, do not fret…” Her voice was quiet,
weak, but somehow calmed the dying man. “Our pain is almost over…” She rested
her head against the cobblestone below them, looking over at the imperious foe
that had so easily bested them. “But what of her… My… other?” Erythis looked
back to her companion questioningly.
Vynlarion nodded, his own body being numb below his ribcage.
He slung himself over her, and grasped a small trinket clipped to her waist.
Tumbling off the sorceress, he lay on his back, his body a useless waste of flesh
at this point. “You will not win…!” His voice, with the dregs of the nobility
he could muster, commanded a spell, catching the pale enemy off guard, she was
hurled toward them. A knife was procured and her ear hacked in two. Screaming
in agony, Vynlarion’s chest was instantaneously crushed and he cried out in
pain. “Erythis, I’ve never said it, but I—“ he was cut off as their foe forced
him further into the cobblestones, his armour shattering.
“I know…” She whispered, “Just do it.” At her behest, the
knight crushed the trinket, a small hourglass, and the severed ear. “We’ll meet
again, even if we don’t know it…” Vynlarion offered her an earnest smile before
the entire room went white. One hand loosely draped over a gauntleted one, the
last thing either of them heard was an earsplitting scream as the entire room
went white.
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