"Come along, dear, your father will string us up if we let you die," Fier said as she grabbed Dawn's arm and pulled her along the wall.

Dawn felt wretched. The words from her protectors made her stomach curdle. The way they spoke, joking at such serious allegations, made her shiver. This wasn't what she'd expected. None of this was. And what Torrin said about what Yawnel had done? She'd had no idea.

She'd only told the arrogant ass that he'd be part of something big if he kept Torrin from coming to the fire temple immediately. She'd wanted to deny Torrin's words--his accusations--claim him to be lying, but the conviction in his eyes told her he was being truthful. Told her of the anger and pain he felt because of it. And then Fier had spoken, explained how she had been the one to do something to twist Yawnel's personality.

She watched with wide eyes as Torrin slew the fetid creatures. Distorted, twisted, monsters made of mismatched parts. She hadn't known Fier had such a disgusting power. Torrin was strong, but his movements weren't economical. He was clearly much better at fighting only a single opponent, he seemed to be struggling with the horde of abominations.

Dawn strained against the invisible bindings that held her back. She wanted to help him, to get away from the twins, but no matter how much she tried to move, to run, to help--she couldn't. Her mind screamed in frustration, her mouth moved to voice it, but she couldn't.

Dawn sagged in defeat. Her eyes fell to the floor as sweat trailed through the grime that covered her face. Her mind thought back to how she'd gotten into this mess.

Fier had performed some disgusting blood ritual after they left the wind temple, something similar to what Torrin had asked about, no doubt. It bound her, forcing Dawn to follow her protector's commands. Dawn only vaguely knew of the strange powers the elven twins held, and had certainly never expected they'd be used on her. She'd yelled and cursed at the twins, but no matter what she did, they didn't budge.

"It's your father's orders. For your own protection." Fier had said simply when she'd protested.

"My father can go to hell! Let me go!" Dawn had whined, struggling in Fiel's grip.

A twinkle had appeared in Fier's eyes, "Where do you think we got this power, Princess?" The title was said with disgust, almost mirroring Dawn's own feelings about the word.

But the question had caused Dawn to be confused, realizing then that there was far more to her father and his people than she knew. Were they really using demonic powers? Did her father also use such powers? How had they gotten them? Why?

Dawn's mind snapped back to the present, her eyes focusing on the battle as Torrin cut down one of the former elves, whose corpse had been fused with a spider to make some strange, terrifying, hybrid monster. She hadn't known that Fier had done that, or even could do that. She retched as she recognized the elf. She emptied her stomach, the contents sizzling on the heated floor. She wanted nothing more than to be rid of these "protectors".

When they'd arrived at the enormous boulder leading to the fire temple, Fier had apparently sent away the other elves as Dawn explored it, searching for a way into the temple. Fier had told her that she'd given the six other elves a special task since they couldn't enter the temple, when Dawn asked where they were. Seeing Orinel's torso split in half now made Dawn realize exactly what task they'd been given. How could Fier do that?! She puked again.

Dawn had known Fierren and Fiellen for three years. Thought of them as her kind saviors and protectors. They'd given her the amulet she used to talk to her father. Not the elven king who played the role, but her true father. Her human father. They were two of his most loyal soldiers, he'd told her. They would protect her.

Dawn had been appalled to learn the truth about herself. To learn that the elven king and queen were not actually her parents. To learn the real reason she was told to always cover her ears, no matter what. It wasn't because that's how princesses should act, but because she was a half-breed. Her ears would clue anyone in. She wasn't stupid, had realized the difference in her hair and ears, but just assumed it was a defect, and one easily hidden at that.

Her father told her he was part of a group called Virtus, that he was their leader. She of course knew of the group, they were synonymous with evil in Cellinia. He told her that her sister, Dallinel, hadn't been taken by the group, but that she'd left willingly. For love. The version of the story she'd later told Rin.

The biggest shock of that first conversation was the fact that Dallinel was actually her mother. And that Dallinel wanted to see her, but couldn't return to Cellinia. That she wanted Dawn to be free of the prison the elves called home. Dawn had become upset, confused as to why her own mother had abandoned her in the first place.

That had caused her father to explain--what she'd thought then was everything. That her mother wanted her to lead the elven people to a brighter future. Out of the forest, and back into the world. That in order to do that, they came to an agreement with the queen, to take Dawn in and raise her as her own. Dawn had been told this was necessary, so that she would be able to learn the elven ways of magic and their culture.

Dawn had left the conversation confused, sad, and most of all, alone. She'd felt as if her whole life had been a lie. But she'd also been excited, an unknown want for adventure bubbling in her chest.

Her attention was brought back to the present by a loud explosion. She watched as green flames engulfed Torrin. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. She turned to her protectors and saw Fiel's hand lowering to his side.

Dawn watched in horror and relief as golden energy erupted from Torrin, blanketing him. She'd seen him using the energy before to heal, both himself and others, but the amount he used now was breathtaking. She watched as his body was seemingly fully restored in moments, his weary expression the only evidence anything was wrong.

Dawn ignored Fier as she spoke to Torrin. Her eyes were glued on his fiery gaze. She balked at the fierce hatred she saw there. She wanted to apologize. To explain everything. Tell him she hadn't known of the twin's treacherous actions, that they'd even used their demonic magic on her. The excuses felt hollow, even voiced in her own mind, as she watched Torrin trudge toward them, his eyes nearly glazed over from exhaustion.

Her attention was pulled to the twins. She'd been tuning them out, but Fier's tone had changed, causing her to look. She held a blade of darkest night, its length covered in intricate runes that shone silver or blood red. She watched in bemusement as Fier faced her twin brother.

Her mouth opened in a horrified scream as the elf slit her brother's throat. She gaped in horrified fascination as the blood spurting from the wound writhed like snakes, slithering up Fier's arms and disappearing into her skin. The tattoos of blood across Fier's face lit up somehow, shining with a crimson light.

The reality of the situation seeped in as Fiel's body was drained of its blood completely, his corpse hardly more than a sack of bones as it thudded to the floor. Her body began to shake violently, an uncontrollable fear creeping down her spine. She had wanted to run before, due to the despicable actions of the twins. But now, she wanted to run in fear. This type of power was not natural. Is this the type of power her father controls? It disgusted her, making her wish she'd never learned the truth. She backed away from the elf subconsciously.

She saw the emaciated husk of a corpse disappear, and Fier brought her full attention onto Torrin, saying, "Playtime's over." The elf's voice was strange, deep, and terrifying. Dark. Dawn turned her eyes to the only person who might be able to save her. From this elf, and possibly even her own father. She realized now just how naive she'd been by listening to his flowery words, following his simplified plans that left out gruesome details.

Torrin's sword disappeared and was replaced by two glass vials glowing with power. One was a cerulean blue, the other a vibrant red. She prayed to all the gods that whatever they were would be enough.

-------------

Torrin felt his second core stir into action as the super healing potion took effect. His aches eased, his mind cleared, and his core began gathering mana like a tornado. The strength potion quickly followed. Warmth flowed down into his stomach.

The strength potion spread through his body, flowing through his pathways, his muscles, his bones, his veins, even his blood. It spread through his entire body, infusing it with a power he couldn't understand. It wasn't mana. Nor was it Chi, or even Saen. Some unknown energy suffused him, bolstering his entire being, granting him immense power.

His eyes fell on Dawn briefly, seeing a desperate hope in her eyes. He wanted to understand how she actually fit into all of this, to figure out who her father was, but put the thoughts from his mind quickly. The potion he took would only last five minutes, and per Grams' warning, would leave him weakened afterward. He needed to end this quickly.

Torrin shot toward Fierren. He moved quicker than he had previously, the potion proving itself useful already. He sent a testing strike toward the elf, who batted it away easily with her own blade. The strength of her blow nearly matched his own, surprising him.

He feinted a strike high, stepping forward to kick at her forward leg. The elf didn't take the bait, stepping back smoothly and flicking her free hand. Shadows leapt from the bottom of her cloak to wrap around his leg, pulling him off-balance. Fierren slashed at his sword arm, Torrin taking a cut on his wrist as he pulled it back.

A few drops of blood remained on the obsidian blade where it'd sliced him. They slid down Fierren's dark blade, seeping into her flesh. Her smile widened.

Torrin distanced himself, Saen healing his cut nearly instantly. Or it should have, but dark shadows billowed from his wound. It took far longer than it should have, but his Saen finally overpowered the darkness and healed his wrist. Torrin's eyes narrowed on Fierren, unsure of how to proceed.

Torrin raised his hand, a mana bomb forming quickly. He made sure Dawn was a sufficient distance away from the corner of his gaze, and sent the attack at Fierren. A gout of emerald flames shot from the elf's hand, engulfing his mana bomb and causing it to explode prematurely. Dawn was caught up in the blast, stumbling backwards, but unharmed.

As the flames settled, Torrin was already there, sword slashing toward Fierren's face. The elf slid his sword to the side with her dark blade, and stepped smoothly to the side. She countered with an attack of her own, scoring a hit on Torrin's arm that was absorbed mostly by his mana shield. A trickle of blood flowed down the blade toward Fierren's hand.

Torrin didn't let up, his blade flashed forward once more in an overhead blow, Saen enhancing his strength. Fierren blocked the attack, gripping her short blade horizontally with both hands. Torrin repeated the same attack again, Fierren blocking, but taking a step back. Torrin followed through a third time, his blade coming down in a devastating blow. He only twisted his wrists at the last moment, his blade curving to the right, before coming back to slice deeply into the elf's leg.

Fierren screeched, her hands blasting forward, a stream of flames licking at Torrin's mana shield. Torrin moved to the side, a mana bomb forming in his hand. As the flames died, he hurled the bomb forward, catching the elf off guard and blasting her into the wall.

A grunt of pain could be heard as she slammed into the stone. Her cloak billowed behind her, somehow softening the impact. The shadows stretched forth as Fierren raised her head, wolves appearing around her. Torrin glanced sidelong at Dawn, who seemed frozen near a pool of magma on the far side of the room. Seeing she was safe, Torrin dismissed his sword and raised both hands. His eyes narrowed on Fierren as she tried to stand, and saw six wolves rushing toward him with menacing green flames ablaze in their eye sockets.

Mana bombs flew forth one after the other, Torrin barely letting them form before sending them at the recovering elf and her retinue of putrid beasts. Two of the beasts were taken out in the first volley, another in the next. Shadows wrapped around Fierren, somehow protecting her from the blasts.

Torrin shot forward to meet the three remaining wolves, his sword appearing and lashing out without hesitation. He ignored their attacks, only aiming to kill them as fast as possible. His sword dispatched the first wolf. The second latched onto his sword arm, so he raised his left hand, Saen pulsing out in an uncontrolled burst. The wolf's chest was blown out of its back, its grip slackening as it fell to the floor in a heap.

The third wolf tried taking advantage of the second's sacrifice, but received a kick to its snout, followed by his sword finishing it off. His eyes snapped up. He blocked a blast of green flames with a shoddy earthen wall just as they reached him. His mana threads grabbed onto the stone as his wall was blown apart. He sent the shards hurtling at Fierren, whose shadows leapt up to catch the attack.

He ran forward, dodging another blast of flames with a sidestep. His feet slipped past shadows that grabbed at his ankles. His steps avoiding the various corpses lining the floor. Fierren's bloody tattoos glowed as she snarled at him. Her eyes looked like some wild beast as she dashed forward, a thick, dried patch of blood covering her previous leg wound. Torrin met her, his blade deflecting hers. He tried his best to overpower her, but her speed kept her from being overwhelmed. Torrin dismissed disparaging thoughts that popped into his mind about Grams weighing him down.

The pair danced around, alternating between attacking and defending. Torrin slashed forward, only for his blade to get stuck in a billowing cloud of shadows. The lightning around his blade lapped at the defense, but it wasn't strong enough to disperse it. He stepped back to avoid a follow-up strike from Fierren.

The two continued fighting fiercely, Torrin's body and pathways aching from the strain. He blocked her next strike, sending a blast of Saen out with his free hand that only met more billowing shadows. Though the shadows were blown away, Fierren was untouched by his uncontrolled, powerful attack. The shadows she used as defense were amazing. Torrin would be more impressed if he wasn't trying to kill their user.

Time was running out, and he needed to end the fight. Torrin began fighting more recklessly, trying to find an advantage, only to take more shallow wounds for his trouble. He watched her shadows block another blast of Saen, and he got an idea. It was desperate and dangerous, but it was the best he could think of as he felt his strength waning, sure the potion was about to gutter out.

Torrin batted away a strike meant for his throat. Fierren's blade went high from the deflection and Torrin stepped into her guard. Shadows tried to stop him, but he twisted around them, coming closer. His left hand glowed golden as power coalesced in his palm. He shot his hand forward, gripping Fierren's throat. The shadows surely couldn't stop his attack if it was directly on her.

As he pushed Saen through his palm to blow her head off, she smiled. Torrin felt a terrible pain course through his chest, but he ignored it, Saen barreling through his palm--a savage blast. Gore spewed across his face. There was a thud as Fierren's body hit the ground, followed by another thud as Dawn went down as well. Torrin was curious why Dawn fell, but his attention was ensnared by his pain.

Torrin looked down at his chest, noticing a hilt protruding from it. His mind went blank as his vision wavered. Torrin ripped the blade out, blood gushing from the wound. He had the faint thought to worry that his heart had just been stabbed, before falling to his knees.

Torrin's blood pulsed in his ears. Blood pulsed from his chest. Torrin grasped at the wound, sticky blood coating his fingers. He watched as thick, shadowy tendrils lifted out of the wound, looking as if there was a hidden fire somewhere inside his chest that was spouting smoke.

Torrin shook his head, trying to focus enough to push Saen into the wound. His golden energy pulsed from his palm, as well as inside his chest, trying to burn away the inky darkness from his festering wound so that it could heal.

One hand barely helped to hold him up as his body tried hitting the ground, his sword clattering to the stones. His other was still pressed to his chest. The fogginess overtaking his thoughts was the worst part of the whole process. He was used to pain, could ignore it if necessary, but without a clear head, he couldn't remember to do it. The potion's backlash as well as the strain from the fight had him exhausted, his mind muddled. The blood loss wasn't helping.

Pain coursed through him and he finally lay himself on his back. The burning sensation from the hand that'd held him up transferred to his entire back as he lay on the smoldering stone floor. His mind was focused on one single mission, healing himself. A shadow crossed over him, making him flinch.

It was Dawn. A small part of his mind screamed at him to move, to defend himself. The other part futilely continued the process of healing. As Dawn lowered herself over him, he closed his eyes. He gritted his teeth as he shirked away from his death, Saen still pouring into his wound. If he didn't heal himself, it wouldn't matter if Dawn killed him or not. Hadn't she fallen a moment ago?

'I should've kept that potion for myself,' Torrin thought numbly, as he lamented his generosity in giving Tillien a potion before entering the fire temple. He shrugged the selfish thought away.

Liquid splashed across his clenched teeth, trickling into his mouth, down his throat. The unexpected liquid made him gag. He wanted to sputter, to spit out the foul-tasting liquid. As warmth crept down his throat, spreading to his chest, he thought better of it, gulping vigorously as more liquid entered his mouth.

His eyes opened, seeing Dawn. Her face looked worried. His head tilted slightly, seeing an empty vial in her hand. His eyes shot to his wound, seeing it visibly closing under his palm, the flow of blood slowing, his Saen causing the darkness to evaporate. He could feel that whatever she'd given him was helping him heal the wound.

Torrin closed his eyes again as he felt his heartbeat returning to something resembling normal. He was weak from bloodloss, the aftermath of the strength potion, and the fight itself. He couldn't find it in himself to open his eyes. A stray thought about the sizzling noise in his ears and the rancid smell all around flitted through his mind, but was gone quickly. He felt as if he was lifting off the ground, and maybe he was. The burning in his back fading was the last thing he remembered as he lost consciousness.