Nero

He looked out of the massive glass window, viewing the people bustling in the streets, lost in thought. He wore a troubled expression.

Nero thought back to when the guards told him and his wife that their daughter had returned. He had rushed out of the room, Rega, his wife, hot on his heels. When he saw Tessa, he ran up to her and hugged her, not caring if she was filthy.

He had thought her dead.

After a while, he let her get changed and told her to come talk to him after she was clean.

His daughter had described of how she was knocked out and kidnapped by the Beasters. But had managed to escape by surprising them with her magic, she then proceeded to tell how she had made her way here.

Once she was done talking Nero asked her where the Beasters had held her, if she could remember the building.

Nodding, Tess had walked over to a map of the city and pointed to an area in the slums.

The King ended their meeting their and sent a large contingent of royal guards to the area in the slums.

It was a foolish hope, a wish.

But the rebels had already moved their base. Leaving only a note behind.

No tyrant’s reign lasts forever.

********

Lost

Lost took a deep breath in, inhaling ash and dust. Falling into a coughing fit, he slowly got to his knees and hands. Looking around, he beheld the destruction he had wrought.

Fen sat next to him, picking at her boots. Her ears drooping down and tail wagging slowly.

Regaining his breath, he croaked, “How long was I out?”

Fen looked at him, in her eyes was admiration. “Ten minutes. I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn’t. And you wouldn’t let me move you.”

“Felt like hours,” Lost said under his breath. Groaning as he stood up and stretching out his arms, he let out a sigh of content as the muscles and bones in his back popped. Then he ran a hand over his chest, checking to see if there was a hole in it. But there wasn’t a gaping hole in it. He sighed in relief.

He decidedly did not want to have a hole in him.

Looking at the clearing, it was completely obliterated. The surrounding forest was charred and dead. The formerly dry, tall grass was gone, in its stead was a landscape of black ash and rocks. Goliath’s corpse lay on the ground in a pool of dark blood, full of holes. The centerpiece a giant statue that a short time ago was alive and ready to impale Lost.

“That's a new record! I was only out for a little bit!” Looking over at Fen, Lost let a smile cross his face, even though she couldn’t see it. She must have heard it in his voice, because she smiled a little.

“You did good, kiddo. Just keep working at your illusions,” Lost said walking over to where his sword was stuck in the cold, ashy ground. Pulling it out of the ground, he brushed the ash off it. The metal was warm and thrummed with power.

The image of Lost impaling his mother on this sword flashed through his mind, but he shook it off. That hadn’t been his mother.

He was in a very rare good mood and didn’t want to ruin it.

Sheathing the blade on his back, he turned back to Fen. Her face was scrunched up oddly and Lost couldn’t place the look.

“What?” He said, looking at his clothes and dusting his shirt off, “Do I have ash on my clothes?”

“I’m hungry,” Fen said, looking around.

“Oh,” said Lost, “Well we can get some of the food from the packs on the horse.” He was famished and needed something to eat.

Looking at her feet, she scuffed her boot in the black soot, kicking up a small cloud of ash. Her ears dropped down farther. “The…” She gulped and wouldn’t look at him.

“What happened?” Lost took a few steps forward, looming over her.

“Um.” She still wouldn’t look him in the eye. Withering under his gaze, she finally caved.

“The horse got away!” She said it so fast that the words blended together and it took Lost a moment to decipher them.

Lost stood still, his frozen, shocked expression hidden under his hood. Probably realizing that it would be best to get away from the oncoming outburst, Fen slinked away from Lost.

Clutching at his hood, he yelled in dismay, “HOW?!”

“The fire got to the tree where the horse was tied. It tried to runaway and… I couldn’t let it die. So I untied it and let it run off,” said Fen.

“AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO UNSADDLE IT FIRST!?” Lost yelled.

“I didn’t really get a chan-” She was cut short by him.

Lost, grabbing Fen by her sleeve, hauled her off saying, “It couldn’t have gotten far, we should hopefully have enough time to catch up to it!” He started running to where he left the horse tied to a tree, dragging the wolf girl behind him.

“Which way did it go?” He paused briefly enough for Fen to point left, deeper into the forest. Slinging her over his shoulder, Lost started at a dead sprint in the way Fen indicated. The whole time the wolf girl let out protests.

********

Tess

Laying in her bed, the dark enveloped Tess’s bedroom. The shadows seemed to creep along the walls, the corners of the room black, bottomless portals to the netherworld.

But her attention was focused on the small, teardrop shaped vial in her hand. The liquid was clear, looking like water. It had no taste or smell.

‘Can I help overthrow my father?’ Tess thought. She was having second thoughts about her decision to help the rebels.

This poison would make her father sick. Over a day, he would quickly start to feel hot and be stuck in bed. He would get insomnia and start to become delusional. After about a week, the full effect would hit. But it wouldn’t kill him. Not for a while.

While the kingdom would be focused on King Nerofix, the Beasters would infiltrate the staff and guards.

Without orders from the King, the generals would would be forced to make their own decisions on how to proceed in the invasion of the human kingdom of Hessa. The beasters had already infiltrated the generals and soldiers. They would cause arguments and overall halt all progress in the war.

It made Tess shiver, it had never occurred to her how deeply the rebels had their roots in the government.

After the Beasters had caused enough chaos, they would strike. Taking the castle and King by force and seize control of the government.

If Tarquin’s words were to be trusted, they would spare her father’s life, giving him the antidote to the poison and throwing him into jail.

Tess hid the poison under her bed, between the frame and the feather mattress. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the center of her room.

Drawing from the pool of mana within her, she started practicing her magic.

Nero

He sat alone in his study, slouched over his desk. Papers were stern about on it, along with an inkwell and quill. A candle on the corner of the desk throwing shadows over the room.

Nero had dark bags under his eyes and the wrinkles on his face stood out even more. Looking out the window in front of his desk, it was pitch black out. Only a few dots of light on the streets below and light streaming out of a few windows.

A few heavy taps on the door made Nero look up. Scrunching up his brow he thought begrudgingly, ‘What is it now, at this ungodly hour?’

Opening the door, a royal guard stood there, in a full suit of armor. A haggered elven soldier stood next to him, his face covered by a helmet.

“My King,” The royal guard said falling to a knee, the soldier doing the same. “This soldier has urgent news from the front lines, he requested an audience and was granted it by the General.”

“Well spit it out then,” Nero growled, letting the guard and soldier into his study.

Nero wasn't in a good mood. Having not slept. These past few days had been chaotic and stress inducing. Especially the thought of the resistance and the man claiming to be the Dark Swordsman running rampant in his kingdom.

Sitting down behind another desk in the center of the room, Nero motioned for the soldier to speak.

The soldier, who had kept his head down the entire time, looked up. He took his helmet off, putting it in the crook of his arm and smiled revealing mousy brown hair and sharp, angular features.

Nero’s eyes widened in confusion and panic. The shadows thrown across the man's face revealed his eyes. They were rolled up into his skull.

Before Nero could yell for help, the guard next to the man crumpled to the ground.

Nero tried to yell but his jaw was frozen. He couldn’t move at all, not even his facial muscles could move.

“Hello King Nerofix the 68th,” The soldier said with a nod. He walked over to the bookshelves lining the walls.

“I have heard many things about you,” The soldier took a book off the shelf, playing with it in his hands. “I also heard you had a pest problem.”

The force stopping him from moving released and he gasped with glee at being able to move again.

“W-what are you?” He stuttered, leaning as far back in his chair as he could.

The soldier walked over to the desk and sat down in a velvet seat.

“Well, this body is, as I’m assuming you're referring to, is an elf. One of the scouts for your invading force in the human kingdom,” The soldier twisted his gloved hand around, inspecting it. “He went by the name Felix before I claimed his body as mine.”

The soldier leaned forward, a twisted smile on his face, added onto the rolled up eyes, it made a truly wicked appearance.

“But if you're referring to the one controlling this body,” The soldier sat rigid, “I am the White Sorceress, Vey. Bringer of Order and Light. Master of Life Magic.”

Vey, in these modern times referred to as the goddess of light and order. But Nero, who had read the reports of many in the archives, knew better. Vey was the enemy of the Dark Swordsman, one that had tried to unite the world by converting every living being on Dragos, to serve her. She had killed many in order to achieve unity, but it never came to pass.

Supposedly the Dark Swordsman had banished her along with the world’s magic. She acted, in her last breath on this plane, by killing him.

Nero didn’t know what to do. His mind was racing from question to question, barely allowing him to think.

Vey laughed at his look of confusion and shock.

“H-ho-how?” Nero sputtered. He wasn't sure whether to believe this being or not. But then how would a lowly soldier know that Vey was the name of a Sorceress, not a goddess?

Vey, in the body of the elven soldier, just laughed harder. Calming down soon after, she spoke, “That is unimportant.”

Standing up, still playing with the book in her hands, Vey paced around the room. “I have heard that you are having a problem with some rebels,” Vey scrunched up the soldier's face. “No, no, no. Calling them rebels is giving them too much recognition. More like vagabonds or terrorists. When compared to your might, King Nerofix, they are nothing but rats.”

Nero felt his head nodding along, he had this pleasant warm feeling in his mind. It was soothing and calming, he found himself much more relaxed. The stress from the past few days melting away as it permeated through his mind. “What is it you came here for, White Sorceress?”

“Ah! Yes. I have come to offer you a deal, your Highness. I do not mean to offend, but I know you are lacking in certain, shall we say, powers,” Vey walked up to his desk and slammed the book down, “I would like to offer you magic.”

Nero looked at the book and then at the soldier. “But magic can’t be given. You must bond with under a certain age or you will die.”

Vey chuckled, “Yes, that is true, your Majesty. But let me clear it up a little more. I want to offer you my magic.”

He looked at her in confusion.

“I don’t understand,” He said with a hint of anger, but the pleasant warm feeling intensified, making him all but forget it.

“It is something I have done many a times. I would like to allow you access to some of my mana pool and power. It will allow you to cast spells greater than any magic caster that ever lived, exempting me, of course. Even to locate and destroy the rats that are plaguing your kingdom.”

Nero was about to say yes immediately, but stopped. Looking at Vey with suspicion, he asked, “What's the catch?”

Vey burst into merry laughter, “Your perceptiveness proceeds your reputation, my Liege.”

“What is it?” Nero asked with more force.

“I would like you to kill my brother,” The soldier's expression turned stone cold, the voice a deadpan. “The Dark Swordsman.”

Nero thought. Long and hard. He already had a bounty on the man’s head. But he had no doubt that given time, the swordsman would come for him and if he was all he claimed to be… Well, Nero didn’t know if he would live.

The warm bliss expanded, muddling his thoughts. He fell into it, accepting the feeling.

He muttered, “I accept.”