Edited by: Flubbykin

Blanka was lying on the ground hissing from pain. Just a moment ago she received a blast of pure energy right onto her side. The power of attack blew her three-four meters away, made her hit the column (or maybe what remained of it after the battle of the two colossus) and fell on the ground unable to move. She felt the electrical tingle all over her body which didn’t let her to even lift a finger. All her muscles were clenched - she could only watch.

So she watched - as weird half human half insect lifted Zariel off the ground and bound him with some kind of magic, she watched him trying to bite her in the last act of desperation and how she hit him in the face.

And then the world turned black.

Literally - she didn’t faint. Seconds after ancient abomination broke magician’s nose forcing a single drop of blood fell on the ground, it turned into black smoke with a loud hissing sound.

And then Zariel started singing, she didn’t understand the words, though they were clearly spoken in the common-language, yet her brain didn’t manage to “catch” a single word.

All she knew was the fact, that with every word, every syllable and every sound the world became darker. The nothingness gained a shape - that of a thin, fragile tree that kept growing between two battlers.

The priestess didn’t react, didn't flinch, she was just watching with her eyes opened so wide that they could pop out any moment now.

And the tree kept growing - so very thin, as if a mere breeze of wind could snap it in half, first high under the ceiling, then wide to the sides looking as if it was a dead, dried plant that was about to die.

And then it grew leaves and fruits, yet they were perfectly crimson, the color on both fruits and leaves appeared to be constantly moving. Suddenly, warrioress realized why. They were made of blood. “Bubbles” of blood that took the shape of apples and leafs, if she would poke them with a needle, they would splash all around, that much was clear.

The tree of suffering - that’s what it was - raised on the carcasses and blood.

Its fragile presence was overwhelming.

She could sense the magic - it was like roots spreading in all directions looking for new sources of nutrition. New sources of agony. It was digging in the corpses, it was digging in the stones and walls as if they were remembering the pain of ancient civilization that was eradicated - its very last moments.

But even that wasn’t enough to quench its thirst. The tree demanded more. More pain. More death. More ecstasy. More life. It wanted to harvest all. Even the priestess, even its caster, even her.

Blanka’s instincts would normally kick in, force her mind into overdrive overflooded with adrenaline. Yet this time she was numbned, as if she gave up long ago.

How could you fight with such a dark, cruel, evil? Even if she would run away, she wouldn’t be able to hide. The tree had eyes - its whole trunk was covered with these and they could see through the tissue of reality, of time, of existence.

Priestess managed to snap off the terror. She raised her hand casting a spell right at the tree.

An arrow made of electricity flew across the chamber, yet before hitting the tree it turned itself into but a soft breeze of magic which tree inhaled - devoured.

Another source of nutrition.

“I will eat away your body, your flesh, and bones,

I will feast upon the metal, the trees and stones,

I will eat away your madness, your sins and fears,

Fret not little one, bear with me longer, my child,

Till the heavens still breaths and sun is yet to die…”

It wasn’t Zariel speaking, it was the tree speaking through him.

It wouldn't be that bad, would it? After a moment of suffering she would be purified of every burden she carried in her life. She would be clean. Anew. She saw it - the other side, all her friends and family members that had already passed were waving their hands showing her the way - just a moment and…

“I am not afraid, divine’s pawn. I have accepted that I will die not achieving my goal a long time ago. But there is one thing you will not take away from - I will leave on my terms, not yours!”

The armor on her arms fell off. She took away a small blade and cut her wrists open.

“Feast on my flesh, the power of high,

This is the last act of my life!

I give up everything that I hold dear,

So I can achieve the might that…”

She started last chant using herself as living sacrifice - this way she would deny the power of her existence to the tree.

Yet, the black presence didn’t wait idly letting her finish the chant. It raised one of thin, thorny branches and pierced her belly.

She never finished her spell as blood started dripping out of the hole in her stomach and through her mouth.

Yet she smiled - in the very last moment of her life. The tree trying to harvest as much as it could decided to deliver her a swift death. It couldn’t feast on her agony it was about to inflict upon her deciding to feast on mere empty vessel.

The branches covered her whole body piercing the skin and entering her bloodstream sucking on her last drops of vitality.

And the tree shook, and cried and collapsed.

“Good job, ant-girl! Good job!”

A loud, vigorous clapping could be heard from the darkened corner of the chamber. Though no presence could be sensed.

“Now! That’s what I call a good spectacle! The passion! Hate! Actors did a splendid job! Oh! The ecstasy! Though, the greatest applause belongs to the stage director and story writer! ME!”

A presence decided to reveal his presence. A man, in way too long open coat with collar raised up, wearing an elegant noble suit under it and mask covering the upper part of his face. It was almost screaming with extravagance.

“I could use a better light though… yes, the game of shadows would make the mood much grimmer, the feeling of suspension would be great…” “I am the everlasting, I am divine, I shall live when everyone dies….” the tree kept singing. It raised its branches and attacked trying to catch a new presence… but it’s attack was stopped by an invisible barrier. “Breaking the fourth wall!? Tis a blasphemy to art! Stay in your role!” Man scream in a high pitched panicked voice “... do you want to ruin my performance!?!?” “As at the beginning - so at the end, The black sun shall cover the earth…”

The tree kept speaking in words of prophecy.

The beam of dark magic powerful enough to erase the existence of angels shoots in the direction of the man…

And turned into nothing but steam inches from the man.

“How… dramatic. Your acting disgusts me, sir, or madame. How hard it is to find good professionals nowadays.” man just shook his head to the sides is disbelief “... whatever. I was told to harvest some magical power, so I have to bring some magical powers. Unfortunately, you destroyed my dungeon’s core…” he said at the power core of a golem “... they kept telling me - Daiarro, don’t turn a battle mechanism into system core… and now this happened. Oh, they will laugh, what an embarrassment… The power that dungeon stored flooded the whole area when you broke it… harvesting it will take weeks… unless…”

His eyes once again lied on the tree.

“They weren’t very specific what kind of magic I was supposed to bring back.” “Perish into nothingness, the perfect night. At the dawn of gods while the Fenrir cries…” “Yeah, yeah. I have a deal, tree, come with me. You won’t be much of an actor, but maybe I will still use in the backroom? Hm? You would make a great cloth hanger! I will pay your regular gauze!” “My name is death, and the end is here.

For no wealth, no ruin, no silver nor gold,

Nothing shall satisfy me, but your soul…” “Yeah, yeah. I already heard that. Now, you are coming along, either the easy way or the hard way. Please, don’t pick the hard way, I am already late for my next spectacle!” “For I am death, none shall excel,

I open doors to heaven and hell…” “Hard way it is then.” man exhaled air loudly as if he was just forced into carrying on labor he really tried to avoid “...the book of art!”

A grimoire appeared in thin air on the man’s palm.

“Plot Twist! Deus Ex Machina! Dimensional Tool-Box!”

He quickly cast triple-layered spell.

A suddenly a colossal jack-in-the-box appeared in front of a tree, in the next moment a golden hand appeared above the black existence and grabbed it stripping it of its power. Then the box open, a toy that jumped from outside grabbed the tree and bringing it back with itself shutting the box lids tight. Then, it perished into cloud of white smoke a loud “puff” sound, like some kind of cliche street performance.

Zariel, up until now possessed by the spirit of a tree fell on the ground unconscious, barely alive. All this time, the tree was using his life forces trying to stay in this dimension.

“Now, kids… or kid…” he addressed Blanka which was the only conscious sapient being in the chamber “... tell about the art of Mighty Daiarro to your friends!... and I will give you a discount on my next performance!... Till then, see ya! Oh, I almost forgot, you will need that - PLOT ARMOR!” he yelled casting another spell while pointing with his fingers at her and Zariel “...EFFECTIVE-STAGE-LEAVING!” he yelled one more time.

He grabbed the edge of his coat with his hand, moved it back and forth covering himself with a piece of clothing. The cloak danced in the air and fell down - the man was nowhere to be found. When Blanka blinked, even the coat was gone.

Just what the fuck just happened here.

Priestess died, with her, her magic died too. Soon the effect of paralyse left her body and she was able to move.

Just in time, for a loud tremor could be heard from the bottom part of the cave - the dungeon started collapsing.

Cursing loudly Blanka picked Zariel off the ground, threw his arm over her shoulder and started dragging him toward the exit. The rocks kept falling right behind them casting clouds of dust into the air.

Somehow, the way out took her much, much less time than it was supposed to - she just kept finding new, shorter corridors - they were not there before, she was more than sure about, as if something made them with a sole purpose of letting them out alive. Blanka couldn’t complain. She was alive. Somehow rocks never fell on her head - it was either a miracle or the magic of the weird masked man.

For now, she was lying by the cave entrance - now shut because of rock that shut it down, breathing heavily with the unconscious magician to her side.

There was only one thought occupying her mind at the moment.

“What the actual fuck just happened?!”