Maddox walked with Varia to a similar clearing as the one he had used, though this one was larger and the trees stretched over it to block out the sky. A natural cave. They were taking no chances then. Maddox idly wondered whether it had been Zeale or Viansola’s idea to trap Varia so.

As they walked Maddox took blue crushed paint and mirrored the marks he had put on Varia’s head, chest and stomach. They arrived at the clearing and saw that Sabre and Brom were there, also covered in paint, though less than Varia. Things were set up differently than with Maddox. There was still the outermost ring of Walkers at the edge of the clearing, but there was also a smaller ring of eight, one for each direction of the compass, that stood around Varia.

Maddox, Brom, Sabre, and Viansola were in a ring outside of that one at each of the major cardinal points. The grounds were painted in elaborate concentric circles of power and the Walkers all took up chanting and humming that Maddox only faintly recognized

“If he dies, I will kill you.” Brom told his brother, eyes on Varia. Maddox laughed as he took his place in the circle. “If he dies, you won’t need to. Have faith, little brother. I’ve spent over a decade trying to kill Varia to no avail. I assure you it was not because it is his fate to die half naked in an elven forest because of a purification gone wrong.”

Varia was taken to the center circle. His eyes met every face, lingering briefly, memorizing them. A flash of gold drew his eye, and he turned his gaze to watch Elder Zeale stride proudly into the clearing, taking her place beyond the circle, seated upon a twisted throne of vines and leaves. Her eyes met his, and held his gaze without fear.

For a moment, Varia considered what that could mean. The last several times she had spoken to him, her eyes held disgust, contempt and no small amount of fear. Today that fear was gone. Though, he found that he did not care.

He turned his eyes from her, all thoughts of a betrayal leaving him as he gazed upwards, to the curved and wicked looking trees above. It was dark there, and with the sun sinking, it was only growing darker. The Walkers set candles about, illuminating the area, but it was ripe with shadows. He wondered briefly if Dor’Goth would be unable to use his shadows here, just as Varia couldn’t. Somehow, he felt that he wouldn’t be contained in the same manner.

A wave of fear washed over him quite suddenly, and he turned his eyes to Maddox. He had no control over Dor’Goth. The demon was barely awake and had taken him once already. What if he couldn’t escape this time? What if this was it? What if he failed?

He was certain his doubt was clear and present on his face, and his lips parted as if he would protest, but he was not quick enough.

The Walkers chanted, louder, more steady, drowning out any of the words he may have spoken. The Walkers nearest him chanted the loudest, their hands reaching out towards him, lowering and raising. Varia’s heart began to beat wildly in his chest, smashing against his sternum and threatening to tear right through his chest. The hair on the back of his neck raised, the haunting sounds flooding his senses and bringing him an intense feeling of dread.

He could feel the magic of the Graves suddenly, pulsing and swelling around his bare feet, embracing him in a soothing light. It was nearly enough to quell his sudden terror. But he was not the only one who was disturbed by the chants, the magic.

A deep rumble began inside of him, the sound of distant thunder, clashing and booming. His own, familiar voices, her voice, grew louder and louder, screaming in guttural and inhuman ways, drowning out the chants and songs of the elves. His eyes left Maddox suddenly, snapping to Brom instead, wide with fear.

His hands reached up, clamping down over his ears, as if that would drown out the screams that echoed in his mind. This was the loudest they ever were, screeching their warnings, welcoming him to join them in their endless madness. He grit his teeth, yes closing tightly as he tried to maintain composure, before, suddenly, the screams and voices ceased. It was nearly a relief, but before he could even register the quiet, another spoke, awoken in the face of his demise.

'I will break them all upon my will, though you think they are made of steel.' The voice ripped through his mind, striking him down to his knees. It hurt. This was not like the other voices, this was him. He could no longer hear the chants of the elves, unsure if it was still even happening. Had they abandoned him?

'You think they will shield you. My hate will pursue you to the ends of the world. None can save you from me.'

Around him, the forest grew dark, darker than what it would be normally. The shadows pulsed through the trees, breathing, closing in on the clearing. Above the trees, clouds formed, swirling and churning, funneling down towards the small area, blotting the light from the moon and the dim pink from where the sun slipped below the hills to the west.

The chants grew louder, equal in their task to expel the evil that was brewing before them. Sabres feet shifted backwards, as if preparing to run, but a sharp glance from Brom, and a soothing whisper from Viansola stayed him. Varia was clearly in distress, in pain, and the shadows were bubbling like a swamp. Zeale had shifted back into her seat attempting to lean back from the oppressive voice that now swept over the Graves.

Where Varia knelt on the forest floor, a shadow formed behind him, tall, shifting. Crimson eyes peered out towards the elves, eyes flickering to each body one by one, before landing on Maddox. The red widened with anger, like a predator closing in on its prey, before it wisped away with a breeze.

All was still, all was quiet for a moment. The shadows that darkened the area ceased, allowing the moonlight and the candles to illuminate the clearing once again. Sabre let out a heavy breath, turning his head as if he were going to speak, but a sickening squelch echoed loudly among the trees.

Zeale was on her feet, thin fingers wrapping around the hilt of her short sword. Before them all, in the inner circle nearest Varia, a tendril of shadow pierced upwards, impaling straight through one of the Walkers. The chanting hadn’t stopped, despite the lost voice, but the scream was deafening. The Walker was lifted, the shadows sizzling and smoking where the ring began. It lifted the elf high above the others, undaunted by the screaming and the trashing. The shadow paused, as if waiting for all to see, before it split itself in two, and the woman with it, tearing her apart. Blood and innards coated the ground around Varia, falling from the sky, splattering on the other Walkers and participants in the ritual. Pieces of flesh and meat fell against the barrier around Varia, sliding down it as if it were glass.

Sabre yelled, others screamed and panicked, but it was too late. The shadows around the circle Varia was enclosed in burst forth, freed from a binding restraint, and with a fury. They smashed into the inner circle of Walkers, tearing them down, ripping them, and smashing them to pulp. Pieces of elves flung wildly about, draping over trees others that ran. Blood stained the grass around them, screams joining the chorus of chants. The shadows slithered and reached for the second circle, but stopped short, flailing wildly as they tried to reach the other living beings.

Beyond the raining gore, Varia was on his feet, hands cracking and twisting at his sides, controlling his shadows without any of the grace he normally had. His attacks were normally fluid, a craft perfected, but this was different. Savage as usual, but sloppy. Like it was the first time he was using his powers.

Blood splashed across the barrier, across his vision, hissing and smoking as it landed on the invisible magic. The final Walker of the inner circle was before him now, chanting still, despite the blood and tears streaking down her face. She was not facing him, on her knees but facing the others, the ones who the shadows could not reach.

Varia’s hand lifted, reaching for the Walker, but the barrier crackled, searing the flesh of his palm. He did not flinch, only pulled his hand back slowly, gazing down at the wound.

His eyes were brimmed in darkness, feral murder glistening in his gaze. But it was no longer Varia that stood before them, only his body.

“Know me. Know me as your King, your God, the mightiest of all the ancient demons of this wretched world. The shadow of my purpose bends all mortals slowly and surely to my will. All whom you love, I will bring their doom. Wherever he goes, darkness shall rise. Whenever he speaks, his words will be poison. Whatsoever he does shall turn against him. He shall die without hope, cursing both life and death. I am Dor’Goth. Know me, and kneel.”

Varia spoke the words, his voice was his own, but something else lay behind his words. Another voice, a deep and harsh voice, a language not of the realm of man. The shadows in the area pulsed in recognition of their master, whispering and reaching towards him. His eyes were on Maddox, and Maddox alone. He could not breach the barrier, not yet, but the clash of thunder above them was a sure sign he was preparing to do just that.

The elf before him was ripped forward, the shadows lifting her to the treetops, slamming her down before Maddox. Blood splashed upwards against his legs as the shadows tore into her broken body, shredding her flesh and bone like a ravenous dog.

“He is lost.” Zeale spoke, before guard beside her, weapons drawn. “Strike the host down!” she ordered, her finger pushing out towards Maddox. “You brought this evil here, now strike him down!” she roared, her voice lifting beyond the chants and crashes.

Dramatic.

That was the thought that popped into Maddox’s head as Dor’Goth took over and proceeded to murder and monologue. For sure his calm reaction was strange. He should have been more concerned, more alarmed that Dor’Goth had burst forth so violently and Varia seemingly succumbed so easily. But all he could think was that Varia had of course acquired the most diva of demons. It was more amusing than it was horrifying, but that was HER opinion more than his. Certainly it was Her looking through his eyes and coloring his thoughts as the other spoke. He could hear her running commentary to the things Dor’Goth said and it took some work not to crack a smile or, worse, let her speak freely. Instead he put his hands in his pockets, ignoring the blood and gore that decorated both.

“Dramatic entrance, poetic and melodramatic monologue….I don’t think he’s worthy of you, Varia. Only eight...you’re losing your edge. You were worried about a demon like him? Surely you are laughing at yourself now.” Maddox said in a voice dripping in amusement and condescension. He sat in his circle, the blood of the Walkers seeping into his pants though he seemed not to notice. His eyes never left Varia’s though his hands were not idle in the blood under them. They were shaking, with rage or fear, he did not know. Her influence was not so strong his body would not react to what he felt then.

The sounds around them had dimmed. Maddox was faintly aware of Zeale yelling, of the Walkers’ chants and Viansola leading Brom and Sabre in words and thoughts of binding. But they were white noise turned low, the bubble of a stream in the distance. It was just him and Varia, Dor’Goth and Her. She twisted Maddox’s lips into a smile, her eyes looking through his at another of her kind.

“You were not alone at the start nor are you in eternity alone. How easily you forget the others at the making, even one that was closest to you. For your arrogance and forgetfulness you will know the despair and doom you claim monopoly on. Return him to us and receive mercy. Bred in the dark he may have been, but raised and molded by the cold he was. Release him, Dor’Goth, or I shall not forgive you.” Maddox spoke, his voice too his own but intermittently laced with another’s. But perhaps it was generous to say ‘spoke’, for no words discernible to the others were audible. It was a series of breaths and sighs, growls and semi-telepathic understanding.

The marks Maddox had written on Varia began to glow faintly with his own, the world around them falling away.

Meanwhile, Viansola, while properly disturbed, focused her attention on keeping the two uninitiated to demon purifications from balking and getting killed. It was probably more out of shock than her words of warning that both stayed in place in their circles. Brom looked poised to run towards Varia while Sabre was set to flee as far as possible. Neither would have gotten very far in their quests. “Focus, you two. Remember what we discussed. You must focus or else he is lost and you are dead.” Viansola reminded them, pushing down the bile rising in her own throat at the blood splattered over her feet.

Friends.

They had once been friends, people she knew and loved. They were no more. It would be a heavy weight to bear, but they and she knew what was at stake, why they could not heed Zeale’s call to end Varia and Dor’Goth. “Focus on the Varia you know, the one you wish to save. Focus your mind, Brom, on your friend, your commander, on the things you know of him and project it out towards him. You must call to his spirit, ground him and give him strength. Sabre! Focus on the adversary you have faced, the man you have learned over the past weeks. Clearly define his violence, his prowess, his limitations. Focus, both of you.” Viansola led them in the chants she had jammed into their heads over the last few days, kneeling and drawing in the gore as Maddox was.

Dor’Goths eyes met Maddox, though they seemed to peer right through him. “He is not yours, nor his, my love. He is mine. He belongs to the dark.” Dor’Goth spoke calmly in return, the dark language overpowering Varias voice.

Though something else had peaked through his words. Fear. But a fear of Her? That was not certain. The thunder above ripped loudly through the trees, but it had seemed to lessen in intensity quite suddenly. The shadows surrounding the circle pulsed and flexed, but their reach had begun to recede from the light of the candles. As Dor’Goth stood before them, the skin of mortal flesh began to tear from an unknown source. His knuckles split wide, human blood leaking freely onto the green below. Only then did Dor’Goth avert his gaze.

Varias body jerked as if it had been struck, kneeling over into itself, twitching and writhing. Dor’Goth yelled, but the sounds around them had begun to overpower his voice. His head lifted, Varias normally attractive features twisted and dark in pain, leveling his demonic gaze upon Maddox once more.

“You will never have him, no matter how hard you fight. He will not fall for you as you have for him. You cannot save him.” He whispered through grit teeth, before he yelled out in pain. He had sounded like Varia then, no shadow of Dor’Goth lurking behind his words.

Viansola urged Sabre and Brom on, willing their words to life. It was working, Dor’Goth was reacting to the magic there. But something about the way he was grabbing at his chest, leaving bloody finger trails behind made Maddox think it wasn’t just them attacking Dor’Goth, Varia was assaulting him as well.

Good. That’s what the damned thing deserves.

Though it wasn’t a proper battle, knowing Varia was fighting back was enough to raise Sabre and Broms voice higher, give them more courage to their words. It was enough to swell Maddox’s chest with hope, and enough to drive Her back from his mind.

Maddox pushed through Her influence, standing despite the heavy darkness around them, eyes wide and on Varia, watching as Dor’Goth jerked again, gasping and stuttering in his pain. He was killing him. Varia was the strongest person he knew, but he was losing. Dor’Goths entire attention was on Varia now, seeping inwards to fight him. Maddox rarely felt fear like this. He feared the dark and those that lurked within it, he feared losing Sabre, feared failing his mission. But he never felt this. The thought of Varia being torn to pieces, a result of clashing with a demon inside of himself. The thought of seeing those icy eyes, empty, lifeless…

His throat tightened, and it took every ounce of will to keep his feet planted and to not surge forward and out of the barrier protecting him.

“Varia!!”

-Varia-

Varia's mind flickered back to him as a frigid wind blew past him. His shoulders trembled with a shiver, before his eyes slowly opened. Endless darkness surrounded him, a void, empty of color and sound. Varia turned his head, his eyes straining to see past the black, but to no avail.

Am I dead?

His feet were on something that felt solid, but looking down gave him no more indication of where he was, or what was going on, just endless darkness all around him. Another gust of wind took him, roaring past him. He moved his hands up to his fur cloak, pulling it tighter around himself, before he turned towards the wind. It pushed his hair back, biting at his flesh, causing his eyes to water, the toes of his boots even began to frost over. But besides the discomfort it caused him, it smelled of Arcturus.

The way ahead was dark with no end in sight, but Varia's legs began moving on their own, through the darkness and towards the wind. It felt like hours, days, weeks even. He walked for months in his mind, not stopping, never wavering. He needed to go there, needed to get to the cold. He needed the ice, and he was desperate for its touch.

A light began to shine in the distance, small at first, but growing larger with every heavy step Varia took. As he drew near, he could make it out. It was the ice, it was Mal’Dyr, but that was not what he had hoped to find, not like this. Had the purification failed? Had Dor’Goth taken him completely? Leaving him to stare at what once was his from another realm, never able to leave, never able to touch the walls again.

He stopped before it, his hand moving out to gently touch the window that stood in the dark before him. It was a mirror, a window, opening up and revealing Mal’Dyr on the other side. Finger tips gently touched the glass, and a ripple moved through it, bubbling.

"This is your home, is it not?" Came a voice from the dark. Varia didn't turn towards it. He already knew who it was.

"It was my home." He replied, his voice echoing through the dark.

He stood so near the mirror his breath caused the surface to pulse softly. The last time he was trapped in his subconscious he wasn't fully aware of it. He was right now, though the thought seemed far, like a distant memory. Perhaps the purification hadn't failed, perhaps the binding had begun, and perhaps the hold wasn't as strong this time.

"How are you here now? If you and I both are here, then my body…" he spoke softly. At his words, the shadows around him pulsed, before the formless figure of Dor’Goth appeared before him.

The light from the mirror caught him, the wispy smoke that made his body pushing away from the light. Crimson eyes peered down at Varia as the man turned to face him.

"Your shell is not gone yet. Your paramour has seen to that, and I am only here slightly. The rest is back there, with them." Varia huffed through his nose, pulling his eyes from Dor’Goth, gazing back out over the battlements of Mal’Dyr. "He will not allow you to take me. He will kill you if you do."

Dor’Goth chuckled, the sound grating and loud, like lightning smashing into trees. "You believe him? Who do you think is more useful to him? A mortal, bound by flesh and blood, a man who has grown sick of war? No, my dear. He has intention for me, I can smell it on him."

Varia scoffed at Dor’Goths words, though something about them made his stomach twist. "He is not a weak man you can tempt with power."

Dor’Goth purred, the shadows that made his body pulsing forward, closing in around Varia, wrapping around his small frame. "No, perhaps not. But you are." Dor’Goth whispered close to Varia's ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Perhaps the Demon of Arcturus would like to be just that. They made a mistake abandoning you. You are not the common trash they breed, you are Varia. You are everything Arcturus is and more. They fear you, and they should fear you. The Gods themselves are no rival for us together. I will bring Arcturus to its knees before you and all I ask in return is a taste of your power." Dor’Goth whispered, ghastly hands moving up to brush across Varia's shoulders.

Despite the heavy cloak over him and his armor, it was a chilling touch, Varia felt it in his bones. "You didn't strike me as the sort of demon to bargain. Perhaps the Demon of Arcturus is already that. Perhaps you cannot force me to submit as easily as you thought." Varia replied.

Dor’Goth recoiled at his words, a feral hiss leaving the blackened void where his mouth should have been. "You and I are brothers, Demon of Arcturus. Creatures of the dark, feared for our power. You and I together could assault the world that abused you and sit upon the corpses. What I offer is freedom, not another cage. You think the Hero of Er Rai offers more than the same? The bars are golden, but it is still a prison."

Varia was unamused by Dor’Goths taunts, his expression remaining cold as he peered out onto the vastness that was Mal’Dyr. He wondered briefly if it was truly his home, or if it was just Dor’Goth dipping into his desires and showing him what he wanted to see. The mirror was giving off a coldness that welcomed him, his breath was visible in front of him, and his boots had frosted over. Everything about it seemed real, but this was Dor’Goth.

If Dor’Goth had any damn sense, he would have shown him Maddox in the mirror instead. Mal’Dyr was cold and dark, yet welcoming to Varia. It was his home, his fortress. He was safe there, but he was also safe in Maddox's arms. Maddox was warm and exciting, passionate and fierce. Mal’Dyr was his home for many years, and he yearned for it, but where ever Maddox was now, was home. Despite the lies, despite the secrets, despite the cage Dor’Goth spoke of, Varia chose him. That was more than Arcturus ever gave him, the power to choose.

Maddox was offering him much, a life without war, a life beyond Arcturus, a life he could make without others tainting it for their own. He was offering him freedom to forge his own path, freedom to vanish into the wilds and never return. He offered him much more than anyone had, and though it seemed that Varia had no choice, but to assist Maddox on his quest, he did. He made his decision.

"What I desire, Demon, is the freedom to choose. And I have chosen Maddox, despite what you say." Varia's voice was harsh, filling the darkness that surrounded them.

"You mean despite the truth to my words, my love." Dor’Goth whispered in return, fire meeting ice as their gazes locked.

"You think yourself a god. The tales they will tell of me will have you killed." Varia said, his body turning from the mirror to face Dor’Goth finally, his head tilting back to gaze up at the demon who towered over him.

"The tales will be wrong. You and I could rip open the bindings of the world and sit upon the thrones of Gods. We can be the new Gods, you and I. Then we may write our own tales." Dor’Goth whispered once again, his hand moving up, shadows brushing against the pale flesh of Varia's cheek.

Varia's eyes narrowed, burning up into Dor’Goths, but he didn't recoil from his touch. Dor’Goth was afraid, that's what was happening. He feared Varia and what he could do to the demon. He was weakened still, unable to truly take control. That's why he was offering terms, that's why he was here now, his conscious split, unable to completely possess Varia's body as he had intended. The Graves had weakened him, and Varia could very well be more powerful than him in this moment. Varia could practically smell the fear on Dor’Goth, he could hear it hiding behind the condescending tone the demon took with him. It was so obvious, Dor’Goth couldn't beat him, not now. His only chance was to bargain, but Varia did not fall for words so easily.

"I will erase you from this world, Demon. I see what you fear, and it is me." Varia said, before turning sharply. His hands lifted up, slamming against the mirror before him.

The ripple was immense, a quaking power pulsing from the blow and billowing out into the darkness. Dor’Goth snarled, a guttural, vicious noise, before vanishing back into the darkness around them. Varia pay him no mind, instead slamming his fist forward against the mirror once again.

There it was, the pain he expected. His knuckles throbbed with every blow he delivered, assuring him that Dor’Goth hadn't won, not yet. He was weak. If he had gained back the power he had lost, he would have torn Varia's soul from his body and taken the shell for himself. But he couldn't, he had to resort to attempting to make deals. He was frightened. The purification had failed, that much was certain, but the binding had not failed. No matter the secrets Maddox held from him, no matter the betrayal he had faced from his friends and country men, no matter how the world looked at him, he would not submit to Dor’Goth. He would see Arcturus fall, and he would do it without the demon.

Blood splashed upwards against the trembling mirror, his knuckles splitting from the force of his blows. The mirror creaked against his fists, the rippling completely marring the vision of Mal’Dyr below. The air around him vibrated against his cheeks, a deep groaning sounding from the dark. His assault on the mirror seemed to be working, despite him not knowing what he hoped to accomplish.

He did not want Maddox to kill him, he did not want to let him down. He had promised he would fight Dor’Goth, promised he wouldn't succumb to the call of an endless sleep. Maddox was using him, and for what, he didn't know. But Varia needed Maddox as well. Without Maddox, he could never be free. He could never destroy Arcturus alone, he could never beat Dor’Goth alone. He could not be alone with the voices in his head, he needed him. If it was a demon Maddox needed, he would be just that. He wouldn't give Maddox less than he gave Arcturus.

With a final tremble, the mirror cracked under Varia's fist. The crack spread upwards, breaking the sight of the snow from Varia's vision. His eyes focused on the split, before his fist pushed forward with more force behind it. Over and over and over, blood openly spilling from his hand and sinking into the depths below him. He shouted out, but his voice had been swallowed by the roaring of the shadows around him, before it all crashed down.

The mirror shattered, Mal’Dyr erased from its surface. The darkness around him followed suit, splintering off from where the mirror had been. It spread around Varia on all sides, below his feet, above his head, and behind him endlessly.

Varia stepped back from where the mirror had been, his head lifting as the darkness shook, before suddenly quieting down. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath, and as he waited for a climax that hadn't come, he finally released it. He felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach as the darkness seemed to settle, no longer affected by his presence.

His eyes had begun to lower when the quaking began. As the rumble began again, deeper this time, distant, a single piece of darkness fell from the rest, tumbling down and landing near Varia's feet. It had splintered like glass, revealing light shining through the hole it had left behind. Varias eyes were drawn to it, his hand reaching out towards the warmth it gave off.

It all happened at once, the single piece had shifted everything. With a roaring crash, the rest of the darkness shattered, the pieces falling into oblivion. In its place was the E’letaesi, and Maddox. A deep breath left Varia, his eyes wide as he was suddenly yanked back to reality, torn from the prison of his own mind.

His hands moved up to grasp at his chest, then his own face. He was on his knees before the others, the blood from his fists leaking down his fingers and staining the grass beneath him. He hadn't thought the pain would follow, but it had, assuring him what he had seen had been real.

Dor’Goth was real just then, and the fear he felt in the demon was real. His eyes lifted to Maddox, holding the man in his gaze. He didn't care what Dor’Goth said, he didn't care about the secrets and the lies, not now. Maddox was before him, flesh and blood, worry etched into his features.

Worry for him.

Despite the purpose Maddox had for him, he cared. And so did Varia. He had never cared more about anyone, anything. In that moment, time was suspended, leaving only the two of them. He could live there forever, feed off of the warmth of Maddoxs touches. In that moment it was so clear to him. He didn't hate it, he didn't try to push it away, and he didn't try to forget.

It happened so suddenly, a flash of hot pain shot through him. His body racked with it, causing him to double over, hands gripping at his stomach and chest. His body heaved as Dor’Goth fused to his very being, the demon screaming and clawing his way through him. He felt ill, he felt as if he would die. The burning inside of him was not going away. He could feel Dor’Goth trying to escape his fate, he could feel his strength pushing against his own. He could feel his body ripping and tearing as Dor’Goth tried to escape and claim him.

He was so tired, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep right then and there, but Dor’Goth wouldn't allow it. Dor’Goth screamed in his mind, drowning out the voices inside of his head, drowning out the chanting of the walkers, and the shouts from the other elves. His eyes cracked open, wildly turning to every face before him and realizing that they were dead.

Blood splashed across the grass, overwhelming him with the scent of copper and death. He felt his mind spinning, spiraling, desperate to embrace the darkness he was so used to.

Just let go. Let it take you. The pain will stop, the dreams, the screams…

That was not Dor’Goth in his mind, it was himself. He was tired, tired of fighting, killing, hurting. He wanted so desperately to let go, but his body would not allow it.

Every breath he drew felt like it was shattering his ribs. The pain was almost unbearable, it threatened to consume him, threatened to take him over, to force him to submit. Dor’Goth was fighting viciously within him, desperate to escape, unwilling to accept the fate that was being brought to him. Varias hands lifted, grasping at his own hair as he pushed his forehead against the grass of the forest, his lips parted in a silent scream as he struggled.

He could hear chanting in the distance, and his name being called. It was the elves, the ones who lived, Sabre and Brom… and Maddox. He did not open his eyes, but he knew he was calling him, urging him, begging him to fight it.

As suddenly as it came, it vanished, a freeze taking him instead. It started on his forehead, followed by his chest, then finally spreading to his abdomen. The marks in blue flashed briefly, the cold soothing the pain.

Varia embraced it, welcomed the ice as it flowed through his body. That same voice from the purification pool whispered to him, an ancient language that he did not know, but he felt protected, safe then. The whisper wrapped around him, cooling the hot pain and chasing away the dark that threatened to consume him once more.

Dor’Goth quieted his screaming, slipping into a deep sleep once again, and the cold left him. His body trembled lightly as it adjusted, before he tipped over from where he was crouched, his consciousness finally leaving him.