《Flight of The Draykes》Chapter 72 - The Condemned!
Advertisement
I stared at the spider, for it was the spider, who was standing in front of me as a beautiful woman with spiders scuttling over her fair arms as she raised them and pointed toward me.
“I stand in your way, young one. Tell me, what truth shall allow you to pass by me this time?”
Silently, I stared at the spider.
Harshly, the spider spoke. “You have only one choice. Defeat me and you shall pass.”
“What is your name?” I asked softly.
“What?” the spider said, caught off guard.
“What is your name?” I repeated.
“I-I don’t have a name” Faltering, the spider replied.
“Then I shall name you Atros,” I said with a smile.
“Atros... a good name. A dark name. Do you think of me as malevolent, child?”
“Not at all. I named you because of your light that is hidden beneath, gleaming dully.” I spoke with a tilt of my head.
Pausing, she nodded her head in acquiescence and said, “Let Atros be my name now, as you wish.”
Thinking, I abruptly spoke out, “What if I had not made the choice to take the left door at that intersection?”
“Then you would have had to face all the challenges without the improvement that the stream brought you,” she replied, smiling.
“Ah,” I grunted, and then grinning, I looked at her before hefting my dagger and holding it out in front of me.
Shaking her head sadly, she too readied herself, arms in front as a dagger materialized in her hands too.
Then she watched with wide eyes as I stabbed the dagger... towards myself.
Blood sprayed in the air and my heart stopped as I took my dagger away from my chest.
I watched detachedly as my lifeblood flowed and she watched, aghast, as I stood there.
Advertisement
Then my legs buckled, and I fell and she ran forward and held me before I could touch the ground.
Lowering me carefully, she laid me on the ground and looked at me.
Peacefully, I gazed back and coughed.
“Why,” she murmured.
“I am you. You are me. I am nobody.” I whispered.
A tear sprang into existence in Atros’s eyes and slowly flowed out, falling like a pearl on my face.
“You truly understand,” she said with a heartbroken smile.
“I do,” I whispered.
“You do not judge?” She asked, still with the same smile.
“I do not,” I said, as strongly as I could.
Gently, she stroked my hair back, and leaning down, she kissed my brow.
“Athra’l elevar sal Indral,” she whispered, and the blood stopped flowing out and warmth began spreading through me, my heart beating again.
“Athra’l elevar sol Indrol!” She shouted and my reflection burst out of me, running as fast as it could - only for black chains to wrap around his black form and immobilize him.
“Athra’l elevar sil Indrole!” She commanded, and I rose into the air alongside the reflection and I stared at him and he stared at me.
Unblinking, Atros rose to the side of the reflection, and then she opened her mouth and screamed.
Covering my ears, I crouched down in pain, but the reflection seemed in worse pain than me as he shrieked in torment.
“Indral!” Atros shouted, and the reflection began turning white slowly.
As Atros’s face was beaded with sweat, her arms rose as though to hold up the world and time passed slowly until with a gasp she faltered, and the reflection - mostly white - tried to shoot into me.
Understanding what Atros had been doing, I grabbed it and held it in place and the tattoos flared into existence on my body while the black chains retreated from the reflection in panic.
Advertisement
Gazing at it, I was about to burn it with the tattoos, control over it granted by the primal need to destroy that raged through me, When I smiled and I let go.
Stunned, the reflection - still mostly white with parts of black, darted inside me with joy.
Disbelief coated Atros’s features.
“Do you understand what you have done?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
Grinning, I nodded.
“Do you know what will happen?” She asked dangerously.
“It will try to seize control from me,” I said dismissively.
“And you do not fear it?” She asked, softly now.
“I do. I fear it. I hate it. I wish it was destroyed.” I said earnestly as I spread my hands.
“However, I will fight it. I will live with it. I will go through death with it. Because it is me, just like I am you, and you are nobody.”
Smiling at me broadly now, Atros shook her head before she threw her head back and peals of sweet laughter sounded out.
“Indeed. You are truly a Drayke.”
Cheerfully, I walked up to her and gazed at her from below; she being significantly taller than me.
Then I hugged her and said, “Thank you. For letting me have another chance.”
She hugged me back and held me close as she whispered, “It is not me you have to thank, child.”
Shaking my head, I stepped back and earnestly looked at her face before saying, “If you had not pointed the way ahead, I would have chosen the wrong path and ended up destroying myself, slowly but surely.”
Mutely, she stared at me as she asked, “Do you know how much you have lost?”
Shaking my head bitterly to indicate that I didn’t know, I waited as she bit her lips and then said in a voice softer than a mosquito, “A quarter.”
A quarter.
Worse than what I expected.
Bal.
Wincing, I asked, “How much more can it go?”, My meaning clear to her.
“No more…” she said with a sad smile.
I nodded in understanding and reached out and squeezed her hand, eliciting a wry smile from her.
Holding her hand, I walked into the distance with her, and we passed all the caves, rooms, and caverns that I had previously gone through. All were empty. Devoid of anything and anyone.
Finally, at the start of the cavern that Atros had originally occupied, I turned around to face her and said with a cheerful smile, “It is time.”
“It is time, child.”
“I won’t remember any of this, will I?” I asked.
Shaking her head, she confirmed my guess.
“What about when I was 5? That should also have been erased, yes?”
“You cannot remember that?” She asked, puzzled.
Shocked now, I said, “I cannot!”
Frowning, she chanted arcane words before her expression eased.
Then she smiled a glorious smile.
“Fate is indeed capricious,” she said with a sigh.
This time it was my turn to be puzzled, but she remained mute and so we stood, staring at each other.
Then I heaved in a deep breath and I held out my hand while staring upwards at the abyss entrance.
And it appeared after a long, long time.
The horn of Valor... and the Fragment of Light.
Advertisement
- In Serial18 Chapters
Centipede
This is a fan fic set in the brilliantly crafted world of Chrysalis, which RinoZ has generously given permission for me to post. Our hero is no transmigrated human, but a genuine monster, spawned from the rich mana veins running beneath a fungal expanse. Unlike other Claw Centipedes, this hatchling is special, gifted with sapience and cunning. Both of which are useful tools to hunt and kill and eat with. Maybe even more useful than claws and stinger. (Probably not). Please join them as they seek answers to life's big questions: Is that edible? If so, how do I kill it? And can I get my kin to do most of the work? Cover image credit to MAF Plant Health and & Enviromental Laboratory under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Australia License.
8 116 - In Serial28 Chapters
Wanna play the game of your life?
A young man dies and gets the chance to become an Avatar. Surprised that our world is just like a big game he starts anew as an insignificant guy with ideas of becoming great. Join his ride in our not so boring world.
8 66 - In Serial11 Chapters
Hero? Again? No Way
O, Humankind have you heard this story? A man made full of flesh, Despite being stabbed in the heart, he will still smile, Despite being burned over all the body, he will still laugh, Despite being smitten from head to toe, he will still move, Despite being torn apart from all his body, he will still walk, He is the one hated by the heaven itself, The Immortal Hero *Before reading, please take caution of the horrible gramma as I am not a native english speaker, there will be a lot of horrendous mistake. Please wear a safety helmet before anything happen.
8 78 - In Serial10 Chapters
Blackened Blossoms
Bloodthirsty and cruel to the bone, Tears make it their mission to sow discord and horror everywhere they go. But they weren't always that way, no. Tears used to be the light of the lands, apprehending evildoers and lifting up the helpless. Until someone corrupted their very nature... Newborn and not yet affected by the corruption, one Tear is on a desperate mission to save her sisters. Publishing schedule currently under review
8 208 - In Serial9 Chapters
The Drifting World
In the year 2104, a brand new VRMMO called The Drifting World is released promising realism, adventure, and freedom like no other. Follow Noah as he builds his character Chemistree, a Treant rogue, and uncovers the mysteries of a destroyed virtual world. Expect guilds, dungeons, skills, stats, and, levels as he progresses through the main story of the game and tries to uncover what secrets the game has to hide. Okay, stereotypical introduction over. This is my first time trying to release a story I've written, so feedback is welcome. The premise is nothing special, I just want to do it well. A lot of similar stories I've read make me ask "what kind of game would work like that?" Sometimes believable gameplay elements give way for a more immersive story, but I hope to make that as balanced as possible rather than going for cheap thrills. Well, I guess we will just see how this goes.
8 204 - In Serial87 Chapters
Ode to Freud
For those who do not understand the reference, "wish fulfillment" is before anything a term created by Sigmund Freud in the 1900's. In psychology it is a state of satisfying unconscious needs and desires by the use of fantasy and delusion. In literature it is the very base of fictional work, but also the name of a style of writing where the author sacrifices the key elements of good storytelling in order to fulfill his own psychopathic, neurotic or perverse needs and desires, usually through the use of the characters in weird and forced situations. What I meant by the title of this story is that it is a trashy, badly written, shitty story about me getting some wish fulfillment by the use of some characters and a fictional world of my creation. Not the good kind of fulfillment, since my wishes are of the bad kind and I intend to fulfill those, not yours. Also, being a total amateur and not writing a proper plot before starting are two big indicators that this story is going to go bad. I guess Royal Road call this kind of stories the "Mary Sue" kind. So, unless you are a very ugly piece of trash (at least as much as I am) don’t bother reading it. Now, if you ARE messed up on the level of a clinically depressive, lightly suicidal, lolicon/shotacon aligned morbidly obese hikikomori vermin who sold his virginity to a prostitute and is currently living at the costs of his widowed mother after expending all the money he got from his father’s inheritance, all the while masturbating furiously to beast/furry dickgirl hentai, then be welcomed. Please feel free to get a serving at my antidepressants and also at the canned tuna I have stored in the fridge. There may be some cheese somewhere, and I am pretty sure I bought some juice the other day, but I have no idea where it is. Anyway. You may dislike what I write because of all the amauteur(ish) writing, or you may not. Who knows. Give it a try and write a comment. It gets lonely writing to no one. Also, feel free to grant me inspiration not only by making comments about the world and/or characters, but specially by suggesting a music for me to listen while I write the next chapter. Be warned : I do get influenced easily by the background music I listen while writing. If you exist, of course. I'm seriously doubting anyone has read anything after the "lolicon hikikomori" thing. Also, I have a tiny dick.Just so you can feel better about yourself a little more. Or maybe I have just degraded psychologically a little more and now I am into shame-play. I wonder if the psychiatrist would increase my meds a bit if I told her about it.Hope I never get to penispanick, though! Self-mutilation, especially of the castration type, would be baaaad. After all, I do like my prostitutes. And having sex with them when I can afford it. Oh, yeah, the story. I will just write the first chapter in a few moments.Until later, b(i)each.
8 165

