Forget Me Not (Private)

[Lepa]

This is a prologue of sorts meant to set up several characters, all connected to the sudden appearance of a strange chimera...

====================

"You’re moving to Aster City?!"

Miyo stopped halfway through a brush stroke. "Uh... y-yeah?" She blinked. "What about it?" Her tone was a bit defensive. She was only trying to make small talk during art class, but she hadn't expected that much of a reaction.

“Isn’t that place like, notoriously dangerous?” Her classmate peered out from behind her own canvas. “And you're going? By yourself?”

"What? No!" Miyo gasped. "You know I'd be too scared to go alone!"

"It's okay," another peer chimed in. "We all know you're going with-" he stopped and clasped his hands together with an exaggerated, dreamy sigh. "Ohh, Arturo~"

Miyo immediately turned red. "Shut uuuup..." she nearly whined back, shyly lowering her head with a smile. "He's... he's just a friend. And it's for a job opportunity!" She asserted. "He's gonna open up an art gallery, and I'll be helping to curate it! That's all...!"

"Miyo..." her girl friend sighed. "You say that, but everyone knows about your massive crush on him."

Urk.

"Yeah, everyone but him!" The boy chuckled. "And you're going along with him to there of all places? With all the magic and weirdo mutant half breeds and what not?" He wiggled his fingers ominously, as if telling a ghost story. "Oooh! Watch out for supervillains!"

"What? G-geez...!" Miyo stammered. "Stop teasing me! I'll be fine!" She pouted. "And don't call them mutants! That's just rude," She swung her paintbrush at him, pretending to strike at his arm.

"Hehe, sorry, sorry!" He laughed, holding an arm up to defend himself. "But really..." The boy raised a brow. "You're not worried about something weird happening to you?"

“Yeah, now that you mention it...” The girl rubbed her chin. “I’ve heard lots of stories of ordinary people moving in and getting weird powers...” She held her hands up, spreading her arms apart. “Just like in one of those action movies!”

“Bruh...” The boy’s eyes widened. “Miyo... what if you get powers?”

"Oh, c'mon guys," Miyo rolled her eyes with a chuckle. "I know you're messing with me, but... Really?" She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I read most of those kinds of stories are fake, anyway." She shrugged. "You can't suddenly can't get powers-" she snapped her fingers. "...just like that!"

The boy seemed skeptical. "Ohhh, I don't know, man..." He shrugged, aggressively dabbing his brush on his canvas. "From the sound of it, you gotta expect the unexpected from that place."

"Yeah," the girl chimed in. "Like Arturo proposing!"

"Wh-" Miyo's face flushed again. "J-just what does that have to do with powers? Drop it already...!" She insisted, turning back to her painting, hiding an embarrassed smile. "There's no way he'd...!"

"Just saying," the girl smiled. "You never know."

[Lepa]

Ever since her friend planted that idea in her head, Miyo couldn't stop thinking about it.

She hated it.

It had been three months since she had moved into Aster City with Arturo. Every little interaction with him - every meal, every conversation, every little hello sent her heart aflutter as she hoped and prayed that yes, this was it, this was finally the moment he would confess his love to her in a grandiose proposal of artistic love!

And every time, she would feel the disappointment like a weight on her heart.

Arturo was a wonderful painter, but what made him so captivating was his passion. He was a lively young man with a contagious enthusiasm for everything he did that made him an absolute joy to be around. So when he spoke about moving to Aster City and opening an art gallery there, Miyo couldn’t help but find herself swept up in his excitement too. He didn't waste a moment's hesitation when she offered to go with him; he immediately embraced the idea. Surely that meant he felt the same as her!

...Right?

But... three months! Three months was far too long for the proposal she oh-so sought. Even with her love, Miyo was growing tired of the disappointment. She wasn't quite a city person, either. She was always a shut in, and even after moving here, that hadn't changed at all. All she prefered to do was stay inside and play games, only venturing out to work at Arturo's gallery. To anyone else, it was a waste of living in the city.

So of course, leave it to her beloved Arturo to change that.

The weather was lovely that day, and the young man had spoke about heading towards the forest at the city's edge to do some painting from nature. In all honesty, she didn’t even like painting herself - it was too messy to do and too tedious to both set up and clean up! She didn't mind watching, though. So when Arturo invited her to go with him, well...

How could she say no?

[Lepa]

The afternoon was perfect. The light was warm and a cool breeze carried the gentle aroma of fresh flowers through the air. Miyo had sprawled out on a blanket in the grass, dreamily gazing at the young painter working his magic. Arturo had been insistent that she come along with him, assuring her that he had found the perfect spot for his artwork.

Or could it be... he meant it was the perfect spot... to propose?!

Miyo's heart raced.

She really should have known better, but that's what kept her going: the dream come true confession leading to the perfect fairytale wedding of love! The girl clasped at her cheeks, feeling the heat of her intensifying blush. Maybe she should help set the mood, Miyo thought. She sat up and glanced around. She didn't have much to work with, but... Well, no, that wasn't true. The area itself was lush and - dare she say - romantic. But what could she possibly add? As she scanned the area, something caught her eye: a radiant cluster of tiny blue flowers.

Perfect!

Miyo pranced over to the small flower bed, plucking a few of them for herself and carefully weaving them into her hair ribbon. Without a mirror, she wasn't sure if they looked haphazard or what, but... she was sure Arturo wouldn't mind either way. After all, the flowers were one of the reasons he chose this spot in particular. At least, that's what she figured.

"Hey, Artie!" Miyo giggled as she turned back, skipping towards the young man. As she stopped before his canvas, she folded her arms behind her back, coyly leaning forward with a soft smile. "What do you think?" She ventured, tilting her head slightly, emphasizing the tiny flowers in her hair. He was bound to love it. She was sure of it!

[Lepa]

As Miyo approached him, Arturo feverishly tapped his paintbrush against the canvas for a few extra moments before more stepping back to better assess his work. He glanced past the canvas to compare it to the landscape, his gaze stopping on Miyo.

His eyes widened.

"Oh... My.... GOODNESS!!!" He beamed, eyes twinkling with inspiration. "That color... this lighting...!" He clasped his hands between his paintbrush. "I’ve never..." Arturo stammered. "I've never seen anything so... gorgeous in my life!"

Miyo didn’t expect such a positive response.

She felt the color rising in her cheeks. She had been called cute in the past, but never gorgeous, and never by Arturo of all people...! Is... is that why he was so eager to bring her along? Was this truly the moment she had been waiting for?

"I... o-oh..." Miyo blushed. "W-Well, um..."

"This is... This is...!" Arturo paused, taking in a deep breath.

"This is the most beautiful landscape I have ever seen!"

Miyo’s face fell.

"...Oh."

The rosiness of her cheeks were no longer of love, but embarrassment. Maybe there was a... misunderstanding?

"U-um... Arturo.." The girl forced a smile, hoping to get his attention. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. "W-What do... y-you think of..."

"Miyo, please!" Arturo interrupted, dramatically lifting his paintbrush. "I must capture the essence of this forest...!" He declared, furiously beginning his work once more.

"A-Arturo..." The girl stammered, her vision growing blurry. "Y-You..." Miyo clenched her fists, turning away. "You huge jerk...!" She cried out, her voice cracking. Tears clung to the corners of her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. How could he play with her feelings like that?! Miyo knew he was passionate about his art, but... He was looking right at her! There's no way he could've meant anything else by that!

"Do... Do you even care that I'm here?!" Miyo managed to ask in between soft sobs. She was surprised at how confrontational the question was, especially for her, but when Arturo said nothing in response? That was enough of an answer for her. He was far too engrossed with his painting to spare a second thought, a glance, or even a word. Miyo grimaced, wiping the sleeve of her arm across her eyes. Why was she surprised? Arturo only cared for his art, everyone knew that! For her to think otherwise... well, it was plain foolish.

"F-Fine...!" Miyo sniffled. "I'm going...!" She did her best to sound angry, but it came out as a sad whimper. The girl let out one last loud sob before running off towards the forest. If he couldn't even appreciate her company, then...

Then there was no way he could have feelings for her.

[Lepa]

Miyo tried to stop crying. She didn't know how long it had been or where she was going - she just wanted to be as far away as possible from that dummy Arturo and his stupid painting. The girl had stopped running by this point, too - she was already worn out, both physically and emotionally. She had taken a seat on a smooth rock, hunching over her knees, pressing her face into her palms.

“I-Idiot...” She sniffled. “All this t-time... I thought h-he...” Miyo hiccuped before she could finish. “Ghh...!” She winced again. She needed to stop thinking about him.

The girl glanced aside, her eyes meeting the tall blades of grass idly swaying in the breeze. Her gaze trailed along their tips, eventually leading her to another cluster of flowers: small, tiny blue ones... just like the ones she picked earlier. Miyo winced. She didn't need to be reminded of what had happened. Before she could look away however, she thought something about these flowers seemed... different. They were far more lush than the ones just outside of the forest, the colors more deep and vivid. They also seemed to glitter, as if they were reflecting the sparkles off of morning dew... but it hadn't rained at all lately. Maybe... were they magic?

Miyo sat up, shaking her head. She needed to stop fantasizing like that... that idiocy is what got her down to start with, but... no, no, she needed to stop beating herself up. There was no sense in continuing to sit around and feel sorry for herself. The girl wiped her eyes, getting to her feet. Maybe a steady walk would probably help her mood.

That's when she felt it.

A low, steady vibration in the air...

Was that... humming?

[Lepa]

It was his fault they didn’t survive.

He hadn’t reached them in time.

To suffer such a horrible, twisted death...

Farren could only hope he could help them rest in peace.

That’s why he stood before the small crowd gathered around the hollowed out stump; an ancient remnant of the druid’s sacred oak tree. Even if he had already done it dozens of times, Farren was still a little uncomfortable whenever he had to perform his ceremonial duties. He had worked as hard as any other to be worthy of his position, but he knew the elders would find fault with whatever he did. To them, even as their chosen leader, he would always be an outsider.

Farren frowned.

No, he had to push such thoughts out of his head. He was here to ensure proper last rites, not to feel sorry for himself. The young leader refocused, gazing at the magical orb comfortably nestled within the the old oak’s rungs. His weathered expression was bathed in the soft, arcane light, just barely hiding his remorse. "Soon," he thought to himself. "Soon, they will be at peace..."

Farren cleared his throat, garnering the group’s attention. "My brothers, sisters, and all other creatures of the forest..." He spoke. "We have gathered today to offer the final passage to our fallen comrades..." Farren paused. He grimaced. The memory of their deaths was still fresh in his mind. He still wanted to mourn, but he owed them this, so he continued. "...Our fallen comrades, Lyren, Zuteo and Galli, who now only exist in this... unholy essence." Farren cast his gaze to the magical orb. "What happened to them... was a crime against nature itself."

The orb flickered and the glow softened, revealing an eerie, bubbling vial. It hovered in the center, contained by the magical energies that circled it. There was a quiet shutter through the crowd.

"...They were seized by a twisted man, only interested in doing what he did "because he can." Farren’s face was sullen. "And that vial... is all that remains of them." He glanced aside, closing his eyes. "I... did what I could..." He muttered to himself.

"...I’m sorry."

[Lepa]

The young leader fell silent. He had bowed his head, praying for forgiveness.

After a long pause, Farren continued. “That is why...” he began, but paused once more, hiding an audible swallow. He had to remain composed. Clearing his throat, he continued again. “That is why I’ve called upon the assistance of the Moonbay Clan.” Farren lifted his head, motioning to the mages that circled the hollowed stump. They stood, palms out and fingers outstretched, focusing their magical energies toward the sinister vial. “With their deep knowledge of the arcane arts, combined with our harmonies of nature, these mystics can combine the energies of both to help us cleanse the evil from this vial and return our fallen friends to the planet.” The a few in the group responded with soft murmurs of agreement and sympathy.

“Our mage allies will undertake the process of untangling their souls from this vile essence,” he continued, his solemn face suddenly gnarling up in disdain. “...It is a mockery of “science” and an insult to nature.” His tone was edged with a growl. Clearly the anger began to bubble up inside of him, but Farren struggled to push it back down. As much as he wanted to avenge them, he was here to lead a ritual to respect the dead, not rally a mob. He let out a steady exhale. “...But that matters not now.” Farren forced a small smile. “Our comrades will be freed, I promise you that.” He looked to the mages. “Please...”

At his urging, the mages of the Moonbay Clan intensified their magic. Wondrously vivid, colorful energies flew forth from their fingers, enveloping the magical ball with a coat of light. A low, gentle hum chimed through the air, its sound reminiscent of ringing glass. Stray embers of magic traced the edges of their spells, flickering with life. For such a solemn occasion, it was definitely a wonderful sight to behold.

[Lepa]

Among the crowd was Tier Moonbay who stood watching in silent observation. The young mage could have been part of the circle, assisting his clan with the purification, but... No. There was no way he could. Not that he was inexperienced, but rather... he was scared. He was told he had all the potential in the world to become a renowned magic user, but something inside of him screamed otherwise. What it was, he wasn't sure, but it terrified him.

It was specifically his crippling fear of using dark magic that he could barely bring himself to use any other type of magic. He had actually spent a good deal of time learning of nature magic from Farren and the other druids of the Hollowed Oak, but... there was just something inside him holding him back. How he wished he could cure himself of whatever mysterious affliction this was, but... he just couldn't.

The best he could do was offer Farren his support.

Tier looked up to the young, feral leader. The archdruid couldn't have been more than one or two years older than him, but he was exceptionally skilled in magic and full of wisdom. So, when he requested Tier to be present... how could he say no? Granted, Tier wasn't sure why exactly someone as calm and cool as Farren would want the support of someone as timid and green as him, but... he wouldn't argue.

...Or maybe, deep down, he was just as scared as he was.

After all... the Hollowed Oak believed in returning their bodies and souls to the earth from which they drew their power. To conduct their ritual of last rites were one thing, but... as Farren said, some horrible man had "corrupted" the fallen before their deaths. The ritual taking place now - separating their souls from the corruption - was the first of its kind. At least, it was to Tier's knowledge. And with the elders quick to jump on Farren's mistakes, no matter how minor...

...No wonder he needed to see a friendly face.

[Lepa]

By this point, Miyo had nearly forgotten all about whats-his-face in her quest to discover the source of this mysterious sound. Her efforts had lead her much deeper into the forest, where the brush had grown more dense and the treetops were so thick that they casted the area in shadow. Only a handful of sunbeams shone through, dotting the floor with small spots of light. The darkness made her uneasy, but the ever present ringing gave her a strange sense of comfort.

As she drew ever closer to the sound, she could see the flickering glow of colorful lights hidden behind the leafy veil of the forest. This was it; this had to be the source. Normally, Miyo would be frightened by something so abnormal, but... the breaking of her heart left her emotionally fatigued - so much that she didn't have the energy to feel any fear. It must have overruled her logic as well, because she found herself creeping towards one of the bushes and lowering her chest to the ground, hoping to find a small opening she could peak through. She just had to see what was causing that wonderful sound.

Peering through her small window, she saw the crowd of figures, all adorned in various robes garnished in strange writings and runes. She could see the colors flowing forth from a circle of them, all of the mystical energies streaming through the air in a series of spectral currents. “Wow...” She whispered to herself in awe. “What could they be doing...?”

It never crossed her mind that she could've been in danger.

[Lepa]

Farren was thankful that everything was proceeding smoothly. Of course, he didn't expect any less from their sacred grove: magic was much more concentrated in the area, and in turn, any spells or the like would be much more potent. This was because old stump at the center was once a grand magical tree and the circle's original namesake: the Hallowed Oak. Only when it was destroyed by feuding clans was it renamed the Hollowed Oak and declared a sanctuary. Though the magic of the tree wasn't as potent as before, it still served as a magical well of sorts, making it perfect for the difficult ritual they were doing today. Of course, pure magic wasn't the only thing that was enhanced...

Farren’s ears suddenly perked up.

“...What was that?” He had murmured to himself under his breath. He swore he had heard something. Any other time, he'd have required absolute silence to detect irregular sounds, but with his abilities enhanced by the remnant energies of the Hollowed Oak... his fine tuned senses could much more easily detect the undetectable.

The young man slowly turned his gaze aside.

"...Something isn’t right..." He frowned, his brow furrowing. Closing his eyes, he focused his hearing, straining to listen beyond the the magical humming. "Hrm... It sounds like... There is...”

Farren's eyes snapped back open.

“...An outsider among us...?”

The young leader stomped his foot in a show of aggression.

“Show yourself!” Farren barked. His sharp yell startled the mages, causing a brief ripple in their magic, but they remained steadfast. The archdruid gave them a brief glance of apology before he continued. “Outsider! What are your intentions?!”

A long, eerie silence.

All eyes were fixed on Farren.

Perhaps... Farren had misheard? Perhaps his nerves were unsettled. Perhaps his guilt had overridden his senses. Whatever it was, for a moment, Farren could only think of how the elders would criticize him now. How inept, they would whisper, that our so-called hand chosen leader would interrupt a sacred ceremony, saving the lives lost that he himself had failed to save to begin with?!

[Lepa]

“Show yourself!”

Miyo snapped out of her trance. She remained frozen in place.

“Oh no,” she internally panicked. “Oh no, oh no, oh no...!” She didn't think she was intruding! Whatever was going on, the girl didn't even consider the fact that it could've been dangerous or evil at all, but from that man's reaction... What if she had stumbled into a cult?

Miyo gulped.

Well, th-they didn't seem dangerous. Besides, would bad people be using such pretty energy? If they were doing something ominous, then surely all of that glowing would've looked dark and sinister and totally evil, right? Like, there would have been spooky chanting or even the scream of a sacrifice, or... uhh.... On second thought, Miyo wasn't exactly putting her mind at ease.

The girl found herself shaking. She didn't want to hide any longer than she should, arousing their suspicion any further, but she couldn't bring herself to move. Maybe if she came across as timidly as possible, they would spare her. At worst, she would die, but... maybe it would be quick? Miyo winced at the thought. All she wanted to do was go home and cuddle up to her stuffed animals, but here she was, emotionally rejected and face down in the dirt, praying that these ominous forest people wouldn't kill her for watching.

Well... If she could manage to get to her feet, then maybe it would be best if she was just honest, regardless of what would happen. The last thing she wanted to do was further anger these people by lying to them, and the simple truth was that she was only drawn by the sound of their magic.

She would be okay.

...Right?

[Lepa]

Before Miyo could even get up, a deep, weathered voice rumbled from the shadows.

“...Fools.”

Farren snapped his head in the direction of the voice. “What...?!”

In a flash, the clanking sound of heavy metal burst forth from the bushes behind Farren. The archdruid had less than a second to react; he whirled around, calling forth magical vines from his palms, catching what would have been a fatal strike.

Time stood still.

In that brief moment, Farren processed the weapon before him: a fantastically ornate sword, pulsating with light. Though the druid held it in place with his magic, he could feel his muscles straining to maintain his magical grip. The mental ripples in the stream lapped at his very soul as he visibly twitched and struggled to keep the weapon at bay. This... This was no ordinary sword...!

Then Farren locked eyes with its owner.

Never had he seen so much... hatred.

It was startling enough to collapse his vine spell, but not a moment too soon. The archdruid managed to tug the blade aside, giving him just enough space to sidestep the sharp edge as it sliced down into the ground beside him.

“Who are you?!” Farren snarled at the man with a terrifying ferocity. The armored knight lifted his blade back up, resuming his stance. He remained unfazed.

“...As if scum like you deserves to know.” His deep voice rumbled again. “But seeing as you have only moments left to live...” The cool demeanor vanished as he brandished his weapon once more. “I am Arunos the Duskslayer!” He boomed. “Know it well, monsters, because I'll be the last thing you see before I erase you from this world!”

Farren clenched his teeth. He had heard from the Moonbay Clan the stories of this Arunos - an indiscriminate magic killer who would no doubt genocide an entire race if he believed just one of them to be practicing any form of magic. How he had managed to find their secret grove, he had no idea, but there were more pressing matters to worry about. The archdruid glanced back over his shoulder, seeing that the crowd had started to break up in fear. This included several of the Moonbay mages; only a handful had managed to maintain their circle and continue the ritual, though their professionalism barely veiled their sheer terror at the man's appearance. The fact that they would risk their lives like this was incredible to Farren.

That was when Farren realized he was the only thing standing in Arunos' way.

He looked back to the Duskslayer, then readied his own stance.

“...Over my dead body.”

[Lepa]

“No...!”

Despite the distance between them, Tier had cried out, reaching out for Farren when the armored man attacked. He knew the stories of Arunos - he was a horrifying symbol and a constant reminder of why the Moonbay Clan had left their home realm of Duskfall, where there were many more like him. The elder mages had told stories of him as if he was a mere tale meant to get their children to behave, but... now that he was here, in the flesh, the young man didn't know what to expect.

All he knew was that it wouldn't be good.

Tier pushed his way past several druids and mages who had started to flee. As scared as he was, he was even more fearful for Farren, who had just barely deflected Arunos' sword. The young mage saw the two men pause as they stood off. Farren had murmured something, curling his fingers as his hands began to glow with energy. Then swiftly, he scooped upwards. The earth in front of him cracked open and a thorned wall of a thousand vines shot up, walling Arunos off. As the vines rapidly intertwined, Farren turned back to the grove.

“...Run.”

Tier understood.

Tier knew the young leader didn't wish to lose more lives.

“But Farren...!” The young mage called out, stepping closer. “What about... Aah!” he began to ask, but quickly pointed in alarm.

Farren looked back, eyes widening as he watched a glowing edge hack its way through his conjured vine wall. He grit his teeth again. “Son of a...!” He growled, leaping backwards as the magic killer cleaved his way through the wall like tissue paper. That was one Farren's more powerful spells...! No sword of blade would have been able to cut through it in one slice!

“Pathetic!” Arunos scowled, lunging forward and swiping his blade's edge through the air. Farren evaded his attack much more narrowly this time. “Don't you understand, hell-dweller?” The man, though fighting, spoke clearly without strain. “The light will always prevail...!” He snarled, continuing to slash. “The light is the truth of all that is right and good, and I am it's weapon made flesh! Those who go against me are destined to fail!”

“Tch! Shi...!” Farren growled, weaving in and out and around the man's strikes. He had been relying on calling his magical vines to pull him away or redirect Arunos' blade when it came too close, but he couldn't keep it up forever. “What are you talking about?!” He hissed, managing to hold the man's blade at bay, though Arunos pushed back with frightening power.

“Ksh! Whatever dark ritual your cult is orchestrating, whatever demon you plan on summoning...” Arunos spat. “It will not come to pass, so long as I live.”

It was bad enough that the Hollowed Oak had lost some of its own. It was worse that Farren had failed to save them. But this man, who had the audacity of accusing this ritual of last rites of anything but that? This man who vowed to stand in the way of saving these souls who have suffered so much already?

Something inside Farren snapped.

He stared Arunos straight in the eye and said with tranquil fury:

“...Then die.”

[Lepa]

Farren growled as an aura of magical energies consumed him. As quickly as they appeared, they dispersed, revealing his new form: a large, fearsome wolf. With a snarl, he lunged forward at the Duskslayer. Arunos swore, dropping his sword. The wolf pinned him down, jaws snapping. The man struggled to regain himself. He finally kicked the beast off, then darted for his blade. Farren growled. He knew that man's weapon wasn't normal; he had to keep it away from him at all costs.

Farren snapped at the man again, but a second too late. Arunos grabbed his blade and brandished it once more. He hacked and slashed at the beast before him. Farren was much more swift however; he dodged his strikes with much more ease. Yet, he still had to be careful: this man's form was impeccable. His movements were swift and his strikes were hard - he was very much a trained fighter and clearly struck with intent to kill. Knowing this, the wolf did all that he could to keep the man's attention.

Farren would not fail his people again.

So the two battled, taking their fight all around the grove. Though Farren doged, each slice from Arunos' blade cleaved through a plant, a bush, a tree branch. And every cut, his blade would glow with a bright light. Farren's mind raced as he tried to formulate the source of its power, but his survival took higher priority. Unfortunately, he hadn't focused properly enough: the wolf had lost his footing in the midst of dashing aside. In that moment, Arunos' edge came down hard. Farren hissed as the edge slit his foreleg. He tried to create space between him and Arunos to gather his bearings. With a growl, he glanced down at his wound.

The blood already began to matt his fur.

“Farren!”

The wolf snapped his head back up at Tier's voice.

Arunos stood before the archdruid. His blade was raised high, positioned for a clean decapitation.

“Perish.”

[Lepa]

“No!”

Tier cried out, his voice desperate. All he done was stand aside, wrestling with his emotions. He had stayed behind because he wanted to help, but... he was afraid. So very afraid... He was afraid of his magic, he was afraid of Arunos, but what scared him most in that moment was only one thing:

Farren dying.

The young mage's hands suddenly felt as if they moved on their own. Slowly, his shaking fingers traced the air. The crescent moons on his cheeks began to glow with a sharp brightness as a shaded aura outlined his hands. Darkness began to amass around his fingers. It formed into a ball of shadows, crackling with dark static. He focused at the Duskslayer's back. “You... You can't do this, Arunos...!” Tier asserted.

“I won't let you!”

The darkness swelled, crackling and pulsating as Tier fired his spell. It struck Arunos squarely in the back. As he stumbled forward from the attack, Farren managed to force himself out of the way. He quickly settled down away from the man, hastily trying to siphon the magic of his form to heal his wound.

He... he did it! That was the distraction Farren needed, Tier thought. He had used his magic to do good! His moment of triumph was short lived, however. In his relief, Tier hadn't realized the armored man was now stomping in his direction.

“You...” The man growled, his tone deep and feral.

"Duskfaller."

The venomous hatred that dripped from his voice was stone cold.

Tier's face froze as he backed away in terror. The man towered over him. H-How had he gotten so close to him so fast?! Even with all of that armor, was he really that much faster than he looked?!

"I-I..." He stammered. "I-I'm sorry," the young mage apologized, hoping for mercy. "I just, y-you were gonna..." He pleaded, then yelped; Tier had tripped backwards over a small log, landing hard on his back. "A-Aah..!"

"ROT-HEART!" Arunos shouted, striking his blade downwards. Tier flinched. The man had slammed his sword down into a rock beside him, the metal clang meant to be a very real threat. "Your kind are a blight upon the world," he growled. "So I have made it my sole purpose to cleanse the world of darkness." He lifted his sword, pointing the tip at Tier's neck.

"Today, I begin with you."