--

For mortals to glimpse the inner workings of fate may seem as unlikely as one's hand to touch upon the stars and yet, across the many eras, some sympathies may pass through time and touch upon the hearts of those worthy. I will carry the torch for the miserable souls of times forgotten, heavy may that burden be.

--

In a forest, at an unknown time, the moon hung highly.

Two cloaked figures were dashing through the woods, each tree passing them by fast enough to appear as but a blur.

Along the way they'd leave behind nothing but a shadow of where they once had been and the usually lively forest, now in slumber, wouldn't produce any sounds either.

Upon reaching a wide forest clearing, the two figures came to a sudden halt, exchanging solemn looks under heavy and ragged breaths.

Of the two of them, one was a hooded man who stood tall and steady like a monolith, the faint contours of a cloak betraying his warrior-like physique.

The other was a young woman with a pale face, silky black hair gently flowing down her waist, retracing the shape of her back and gently reflecting the moonlight.

Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.

The warrior, on the other hand, tried not to show exhaustion on his face; however, his irregular breaths betrayed his efforts.

Normally, no small amount of running could exhaust these two to such a degree, but then again their faces only suggested that circumstances were anything but normal.

It is only when the moonlight finally had a chance to scout them out that the faint silhouette of a third figure could be made out lying in the embrace of the warrior.

With a flick of his arm, the warrior flung his cloak wide open, now fully revealing a youth with short ashen hair.

Mustering an ounce of strength, the youth then tore himself away from the warrior and weakly pushed himself off.

The youth's heart was ablaze with twisted fury, but he couldn't tell why.

It was strange how he felt as if he wasn't in control of his body and so he, as though driven by rage, strode forward with frail steps before his body came crashing down and convulsed.

"Not good!" exclaimed the warrior loudly, his voice carrying a tinge of distress.

He then quickly ran up to the youth to help him and gently turned him onto his back, but seeing the serious condition the youth was in, his movements stalled for a brief moment.

The warrior hastily tore at the youth's upper garments until the latter's torso was exposed.

Like and erratic web, crimson lines had spread all over the youth's skin. The lines pulsed as though come alive and the pain caused him to grind his teeth under suppressed groans.

The woman couldn't help but cover her mouth in shock upon noticing the youth's current state.

After coming to her senses, she, too, rushed up to inspect the youth's condition.

Her arrival by his side was accompanied by a wave of dizziness that flooded the youth and caused the scenery to warp before his eyes.

His vision repeatedly flickered in and out of focus, unable to process anything but a glimpse of the woman looking at him in dismay before turning her head towards the warrior and shouting something.

"It's the Blood Verdict! How could it be that poison? There hasn't been any recorded mentions of it for centuries." She bit her lip nervously while casting her head down. "There is just no way that the usurper could have the means unless..."

The warrior clenched his right fist and smashed it into the ground, causing the surroundings to tremble. "Then are you suggesting someone else provided them with the means? If we knew those bastards had so many hidden cards, we could have made preparations in advance."

"Uncle, it's as you've seen. Their helpers have eluded us all this time, even now we don't know who they are. How could we have prepared for unforeseen interference of this kind?"

Feeling his consciousness fading in and out uncontrollably, the youth could only make out fragments of their sentences. It seemed like they argued back and forth for a while, until eventually the warrior's shoulders slumped and he sat down on the ground, defeated.

Like that, moments passed quietly with nobody saying anything.

"Blew it."

A pained growl snapped the warrior and the woman out of their thoughts and both simultaneously turned their heads towards the youth.

The youth mustered what strength he had to focus his mind and, with gnashing teeth, he continued, "We blew it. No, it is I who blew it."

He slowly lifted his body with the gentle support of the woman and continued.

"I thought I could be like him, like father, championing his ideals. I was so convinced that I could spare our people from what's about to come." He chuckled. "My father was a fool to entrust me with this burden. Look at me!"

He clawed at his chest as he roared the last words, staring at the warrior with blood-shot eyes. "What can I do? Old Hem, look at me! I can feel this poison eating away at me, gnawing at my sanity."

Old Hem replied, "My liege, that's not the real you speaking. I beg you not to lose heart. Now is still too early to give up."

He lifted his hood, from which a greying black ponytail and goatee came to view and faced the youth with a profoundness in his deep brown eyes that oozed with an unwavering resolve.

Faced with the firmness of Old Hem's gaze, the youth faltered for a moment, giving the woman a chance to speak up, "There exist many poisons in the world, but nobody has seen the Blood Verdict in hundreds of years. I've heard from my teacher that, while there are records of its effects and uses, no tome holds clues on how to cure it. It is a product of both alchemy and the vilest of magics after all."

"I find it hard to believe that the famed prodigy of the Vaszott house, hailed as one of the youngest to ever achieve the rank of arch magus, wouldn't have an idea or two." Old Hem shot back expectantly.

"You give me too much credit, Uncle." The woman let out a wry chuckle while her gaze remained affixed to the tormented youth. "Regretfully, I am lacking in the field of alchemy."

"So we need to find a capable expert then; however, returning to the capital is not an option, not to mention that both of us have exhausted ourselves severely in the confrontation earlier. I'd say our hardships have only just begun and we should catch what reprieve we can."

That being said, he drew his sword and began wiping off dark stains with a cloth.

"Young lady, have you taken to a faith? Now would be the time to pray," advised Old Hem, seeing as the woman seemed hesitant and unfirm.

The woman merely acknowledged his words by rolling her eyes, gently mimicking his actions by wiping away the sweat on the youth's face.

"We cannot stay here, Uncle, we must find a secluded place to recover and to suppress the poison's symptoms. Also, didn't you get injured from protecting Riaz earlier?" The woman reached into her cloak and fished out a small flask from inside, which she then uncorked with one hand, while the other supported the youth.

She drank the potion contained within the flask and coughed miserably, shuddering with a curling lip before stowing it away.

The youth's, Riaz's body convulsed and blood spurted out of his mouth.

His bloodshot gaze struggled to focus on his companions as he lamented with a deep voice, "Nowhere is safe and our comrades, they're dead, haha, hahaha. After tonight, nevermind their wives or their children even their dogs won't be safe. I have led them all to ruin, hahaha."

The faces of his two companions froze when they noticed Riaz losing his wits and completely dropping the usual bearing and composure of a young man of his status.

The poison in his veins was known to corrupt its victim from within, to feed their emotions and allow them to burst out unpredictably.

It was unclear how much of his behavior could be attributed to the poison rather than mere defeatism stemming from the decisive blow they had suffered tonight. And still, the worst effect of the poison had yet to show.

At the end of the day, the poison would devour his memories, his sense of self then finally not even his humanity would be spared.

Thinking about the suffering the youth would have to endure, the two companions had no strength left to rebuke him.

"Riaz, they... It's not like that." The woman sighed. "Nevermind that, right now we just need time to get back on our feet, we'll see from there. We just need time."

Suddenly, it felt like the surroundings grew incredibly still and even the winds stopped blowing.

Old Hem was the first to react and his face turned somber. "I am afraid that time is something we don't have." The killing intent within him surged and caused the other two to pause their breaths.

He gripped his sword tightly and slowly stood up. The woman looked past him, only to get goosebumps when she saw multiple shadows separate from the darkness under the trees.

Slowly, eight shadows walked out and into the clearing. A black fog cloaked their presence, but as soon as they drew closer the fog began to dissipate, revealing a group of assassins dressed in black.

The group was led by a broad shouldered man with a viciously scarred face. A twisted grin plastered his face as he locked eyes with Old Hem.

He laughed, "Hemlin Fullock, renowned blade king, nicknamed after their swordstyle 'Sundering Blade'. To think that we'd come face to face again like this..."

Raising one hand, the leader of the assassins held onto a small parchment that combusted with a ghostly flame. "Leaving such a long trail of blood, how very sloppy of you. Then again, it's quite reassuring to know that even an almighty blade king can bleed like the rest of us."

Hemlin reached for the lace that held his cloak in place and unfastened it. The moment the cloak fell to the floor, he could be seen wearing an unorthodox sleeveless set of black leather armor which covered only half of his torso. It spanned from the right shoulder to the left side of his waist. The armor maximized mobility while looking aesthetically pleasing rather than providing protection. For experts of his caliber, armor served little purpose outside of war for they have plenty of other means to guard themselves.

"Has the usurper put you on our tail?" Hemlin took a few steps closer to his companions, one hand behind his back signaling to the woman to stand up.

The leader of the assassins never ceased smiling, making for an unnerving sight. He lifted one hand and began signaling to his subordinates as well, who then slowly fanned out, encircling their marks.

"I am asking just in case, but won't you consider surrendering peacefully? I can promise you to leave your corpses intact. I am a man of my word."

Hemlin shouted back, "Does the usurper employ comedians nowadays? It seems he was hoping to make us die of laughter, but I should wonder if your battle prowess is as disappointing as your sense of humor."

The smile on the leader's face vanished, "I'd wonder the same. However, you should worry about yourself first. If only you were at peak condition, I'd have carefully considered accepting this task, but looking at you now? Word has already spread that you are merely an old fool on his last legs."

He motioned with his chin towards Riaz and continued whilst drawing a rapier, "Let's not forget that burden on your hands. Look around you. You don't scare anyone with your false bravado."

"Hmpf, it would seem that way, since even a pack of dogs dares to bare their teeth at me."

Hemlin reached into his pocket and then tossed a silver ring towards the woman who caught it whilst supporting the barely conscious Riaz.

He locked eyes with Riaz and his gaze visibly softened. "My liege, I have so far only shown you an embarrassing display and I am sorry that I couldn't do more to assist you thus far. I'll be leaving this item in your care for now. It is a token of my house, which may be of use to you in case our paths would not cross again after tonight. You must keep on fighting, my liege. I hope you can promise me that."

Not waiting for a reply, Hemlin's expression filled with resolve. The woman met his eyes, giving him a nod. Both knew what had to be done, thus without hesitation she raised her palm and channeled her mana for a spell.

The leader of the assassins was first to react and his body flickered for a second, having assumed a tight sideways stance, his rapier shot forward with what looked like an ordinary stab, but the tip rippled for a split-second with a faint glow, then a piercing black ray shot out from it, crossing dozens of feet towards the woman.

Hemlin's sword drew a tight arc and met the leader's attack. It left faint afterimages behind, colliding with the ray and forcing it apart. As the ray burst apart into multiple strands, that were deflected, the assassins made their move and charged forward.

They barely managed to kick off the ground when the woman's palm slammed down. The magic unleashed a dense fog that rolled out in all directions with an immense force behind it.

The assassins were stalled by the gust, some even losing their footing slightly. It took mere seconds before the entire forest clearing was covered by a dense blanket of fog. Regardless, the assailants didn't hesitate to launch ranged attacks aimed at the point where the fog originated from.

The assassins' second-in-command appeared beside the the leader and whispered, "The mage has used magic to escape into an unknown direction. She'll be difficult to deal with."

"All within our calculations. Be mindful, she is merely running on fumes. More importantly, is the second group in position?" The leader was locked down by Hemlin as both were zoning each other out through a manifestation of their qi and willpower.

The second-in-command nodded wordlessly.

"Good, it doesn't matter what happens with the boy since his fate is sealed; however, the blade king and the arch magus must die at any cost. Take half of our men and assist the second group, the others will remain and help me deal with this monster."

Despite the words he spoke to Hemlin earlier, the leader of the assassins wasn't reckless enough to underestimate a blade king, even knowing the latter was wounded.

Just through the quality and force behind their respective auras it became sufficiently clear to him that he was losing out in their current matchup; all that considered they hadn't truly crossed weapons yet.

The difference between one that walked the martial path to the fullest and someone who merely borrowed from it was apparent enough to discourage him from confronting Hemlin directly. Still, it was unavoidable at this point.

His eyes narrowed as he remembered the last time when he saw the Sundering Blade.

It was the day when Hemlin earned his name and the world witnessed the birth of an immovable force. Wherever his blade struck, no amount of protection would suffice.

They had thoroughly prepared for this job and everyone knew the risks of getting hit by that blade; death awaited those unlucky ones.

So what did they have to do in order do survive? Not get hit by the blade and wear down the mark. Who else was best suited for this job other than them?

The leader of the assassins shouted, "Go!" and both assassins merged into the fog, becoming a part of it.

Meanwhile, deeper within the forest, the woman held onto Riaz, who had lost much of his strength.

The blazing emotions in his heart were nowhere to be found, replaced by a dull feeling and stillness of emotion. At this point his consciousness was hanging by a thread and he could feel the progressing erosion of his self claiming him piece by piece.

"Riaz, it's not much farther now. There is a place where my teacher used to take me to in hopes of teaching me about nature; only a handful of people know about it. It's warded against most common intrusive magics, so we will have to walk the rest of the way. Can you manage?"

One supporting the other, the two made their way forward. At some point the ground quaked and birds took to the air in a panic. Still, the pair didn't halt their advance and soon enough a small cabin appeared in their view.

Considering it's been years since anyone came here, the place was still in a good shape. After the two had entered the cabin, the woman led Riaz towards a nearby bed and helped him lay down.

There were only two rooms all-together, but it was more than enough for them.

The woman pulled over a stool and sat down next to Riaz, gently wiping off his blood and sweat, after pulling aside the fabrics of his clothing.

Once she was finished tending to him, Riaz, who kept on silently enduring the effects of the poison, watched as the woman left the cabin to lay down magic formations with the cabin as the anchor.

In addition to the formations already set in place, she also exerted a great amount of effort to place down multiple layers of concealment formations.

Only then did it cross his mind that she must have had exhausted herself greatly to teleport not just herself, but him as well.

Even now, while he could only lie in bed and wait for death, both her and Hemlin were still defying the harsh outcome.

He felt somewhat aggrieved, especially when he thought back to Hemlin's last words to him. No, more truthfully, he felt regret at not being able to do anything. He hated being this powerless.

'He told me that I had to keep fighting, but just what can I do at this point? Even you, Luvia. Knowing you, you have already been going through dozens of plans in your head, but with where things are headed, are we meant to hide away forever like this? Hah, I can't even remember what we are fighting for; it's strange.'

It was now that he became aware that he had trouble recalling things from his memory.

'Fate has been truly unkind to us.' He silently lamented. 'But at least you, if at least you could escape safely...' His gaze wandered towards the door as he recalled the face of the woman that had been with him for the longest time.

Even now he felt it more and more difficult to remember her face perfectly, but there was a warmth in his eyes that differed from the deadness in his eyes thus far.

Slowly, he mustered what strength he could to reach for the dagger holstered on his thigh and drew it with determination.

The cold steel lay idly in his hand, the weight of the dagger pressing down heavily against his palm. He stared at the ceiling as multiple thoughts ran through his head at once.

'I know that you are more than capable of escaping on your own, but, as long as I draw breath, you'll never leave my side. At this rate, both of us will die.'

The hand holding the dagger trembled and slowly began moving towards his throat.

'It would be better if I died, even if it meant getting scolded by... scolded... by?' The hand holding the dagger faltered. 'Who? It feels like I am forgetting something important.'

The door opened, but Riaz was too distracted by his thoughts to notice. 'What exactly am I doing here?'

Within a heartbeat, the woman, Luvia, arrived by his bedside and snatched the dagger from him, violently tossing it into a corner behind her.

As if provoked by her brutish act, the web-like lines of poison, running along his veins, acted up in protest, causing him great agony each time they pulsed with their sinister glow.

"Y-you!" She clenched her fists tightly, trembling by the shoulders.

How could she not understand what he was thinking in that situation? She was about to reproach him when she noticed him staring at her blankly in confusion, like a child that didn't know what it had done wrong. She couldn't help drawing a sharp breath.

"Luvia, I, something is wrong with me. Luvia? Why is my whole body in such pain?" His face showed great puzzlement, a trace of panic setting onto it.

"You have been poisoned, you must lie still now so I can help you." She pushed down on him until he finally relented and rested his head against the pillow.

Luvia got up and started pacing back and forth in deep thought. She feared that the symptoms were progressing too fast, but it was not the time to think as to why it was the case.

The moment she lowered her guard, a sound akin to jingling bells resonated throughout the entire cabin, putting the both of them on high alert.

That sound was a common warning that most people who had teamed up with a mage before would recognize within a second. It usually signified certain life-forms passing through the boundary of a warded area.

Without a doubt enemies had closed in on their location.

She stepped outside and lifted her head to see the faint glimmer of her protective boundary.

Although the translucent barrier was hard to see, she could still see small cracks beginning to form on the surface and the formation in place was busy restoring the boundary in real-time.

Luvia could feel her heartbeat quicken while a sense of urgency washed over her. Despite lacking in power, the intricacies of her formations should have led their enemies astray and yet it didn't.

She realized, whoever stood on the other side of the boundary was no simpleton at all. Still, despite feeling uneasy, she took pride when it came to her magic and knew that it would take their adversary a solid period of time before they could progress inwards.

"There is no time to lose." She re-entered the cabin and rushed up to Riaz, her hand having retrieved the silver ring that Hemlin had entrusted to them earlier.

Without consulting Riaz, she slid the ring into his trouser pocket and made sure it wouldn't accidentally fall out, then finally she placed her hand over his.

Like this, she sat by his side for a few breaths.

Riaz could feel the warmth radiating from her hand which filled him with great comfort.

His eyes, which were gradually losing focus, searched for the source of this comfort, but the youth realized that he had difficulties to move his body.

The moment his gaze landed on Luvia's face, however, he felt confused. For some reason, tears were running down her stoic face and he could feel a pang in his heart but was unable to understand why.

Luvia held up a peculiar crystalline pendant that, judging by the shape, resembled a pocket watch and presented it for Riaz to see.

"This is a heirloom passed down through my family and while it may not look like much, it holds immense power. What great secrets it holds, not even my ancestors were able to uncover and all we know is the responsibility that has been passed down along with it."

Riaz tried to say something, but was unable to move his mouth. His mind was practically in shambles and through some unknown means he seemed to have lost control of his body.

Luvia paid no attention to his futile struggles as she continued her explanation.

"This is a secret that only few within our house know about. The ancient legacy held within this pendant compels my family to hold onto this artifact and to unite it with the..." Her words seemed to trail off, but in truth it was Riaz's perception that couldn't keep up any longer.

Once more, his consciousness faded as the poison stirred.

"You know..." Luvia's voice mysteriously reached his mind. "I wish that I could have talked more with you."

He could feel a tinge of sorrow within her melodious voice. He didn't know when exactly it had begun, but her voice felt strongly unfamiliar to him in this moment.

"I wish that I could have spent more time with you. To me, someone who is known to love nothing more than magic, you were someone even more irreplaceable."

'What is she saying?' Riaz felt helpless as he continued to listen to her words; meanwhile, he could hear her sobbing, which touched his mind like claps of thunder.

"The truth is, if it was for you, I would do anything. I'd fight this world with you again and again if I had to... if it was for you, if it was with you. But, I can't be with you anymore, Riaz. Even if it is the last thing I say to you and it is quite unfair to you, given that you won't be able to answer it, I still had to say it. Gods, this is so cowardly, heh."

'Riaz? Is that me? Is that my name?'

For a brief moment, he had the impression of something soft pressing against his lips, after which he felt something in him stir. This something clawed its way out of the void, desperate to wake him from his current state.

At last, he opened his eyes and looked towards the side. He could barely make out the faint glow of a crystal of some sort floating in front of Luvia. The color of her skin visibly drained away as cracks started to form and spread across her whole body.

As if wrapped in some unknown force, he was pulled away, body and mind alike. Everything around him grew dark.

He tried to reach out frantically, but it was to no avail.

The echo of her last words found a way to his ears, "Maybe this time you will be able to let go of it all."

Luvia's figure grew distant and the last thing, which he saw, was the crystalline object in her hands, shining in a golden light that slowly dimmed until the glow was no more.

With no physical sensation left, the last of him was soon to depart as well. Maybe it was all an illusion, but at that last moment he thought to have heard his own voice speak three distinct words.

"Goodbye, my friend."

The words gently sounded through the void and likely nobody except for him could hear them.

Even so, in his heart, he hummed along to those words till he was no more.