1 The First Flame

In front of a small bright burning flame of a bonfire stood a ten-foot-tall grey-bearded God. His face showed the wear of his years as he looked at the flame like a lone tree proudly standing tall in a field. His crown and garbs hang as if they were ready to fall off at any time.

Behind him stood a seven-foot-tall man with long black greasy hair, skin pale as ivory, and a noble face. He looked at the time-worn God as if looking at a dying snake, no pity in his eyes.

The pale man spoke "I will spare you. Just give up this trifling pursuit Gwyn. The flame will fade. The world will move on."

As the old God Gwyn turned to face the pale man a crazed smirk came to his face. "Lorian. I feared this day would come. Perhaps you are one of the only beings who can threaten me." His smirk falls "But perhaps not."

Lorian stood tall as he pulled out a seven-foot-long curved greatsword from the ground. It looked to be pieced together from black steel and the bones of the dead.

"I sat by as I watched you banish my student… your own son." Lorian's face twists in anger. "I WATCHED as you cursed an entire race to damnation for merely being born."

The old God stares blankly at the anger on Lorian's face. Meeting Lorian's eyes you could see nothing but darkness screaming to be unleashed. It is what the God had feared.

Seeing the blank response Lorian continued "I WATCHED AS YOU LOCKED UP A CHILD FOR JUST BEING BORN WITH AN UNKNOWN POWER!" His grip tightens "NEVER AGAIN!"

Gwyn's stoic face breaks "She was a threat to us all!"

"SHE WAS A CHILD!" Lorian's sword flare's red as black miasma leaks off the blade. "She was the child of your friend… of OUR friend." As Lorian looks into the eyes of the old God... he can no longer see the flame of life once there.

With a small hint of anger on Gwyn's face, he sighs "I gave you everything. It was I who gave you the rank of God. IT WAS I WHO GAVE YOU THE TITLE 'GOD SLAYER'!"

He pulls back his hair as he is shaking his head "You are no longer the friend and Lord I once knew. Lord Nito saw it nearly a hundred years ago, that is why he has locked himself in the crypts. I just didn't want to believe the level of your insanity... But I have no choice now."

"Tch, Nito should never have given you half of his Lord Soul… You are too emotional." A wave of bitter anger crosses Gwyn's face for a split second.

Lorian put's his head down as he raises the massive greatsword with one arm. "That was his choice… and this is mine. I, Lorian, First of the Raised, Slayer of Gods, and God of Pestilence, declare TREASON."

Gwyn's tired face looks unsurprised at the turn of events. He raises an arm covered in golden light. "HEED MY CALL, MY KNIGHTS. MY FINAL REQUEST TO YOU." His voice booms without so much as a yell.

Light bathes the mountains of soot surrounding them blinding Lorian and Gwyn for a brief moment. When the light clears the surroundings are littered by tall knights in shining silver armor. Most of them have swords with beautifully engraved shields, the rest carry giant bow's meant to slay dragons.

Lorian looks around at the knights he once called allies, his eyes finally resting back on Gwyn. Without looking away his voice raises "If you do not wish to die today brothers… then leave. If not... death will greet you as kindly as it can…"

The sound of shuffling armor is heard throughout the area but no knight actually leaves. After almost 30 seconds Lorian's grip tightens on his sword as he speaks again "Then you shall all die with honor… I am sorry."

The knights ready themselves for whatever their former commander would do. Lorian stabs his sword into the ground of soot and ash as his hands glow red.

He slowly raises his arms as black miasma rolls off of them. Gwyn's eyes widen as he realizes what Lorian is doing. With a shout, he jumps back "MOVE!" He commands.

But it's too late hundreds of red blades exactly the same as Lorian's sword sprout from the ground impaling them from below. Gwyn grits his teeth as he sees over half his knights cleaved in half but doesn't falter.

"SPEARS READY!" Instantly the surviving knights hold up an arm and yellow lighting bursts alive in their hands forming spears. Gwyn does the same but his spear is redder and much larger than the others.

Seeing so many spears Lorian picks up his sword again and ready's himself. "RELEASE!" Gwyn commands. Nearly a hundred lightning spears light up the sky around Lorian as he grits his teeth. His offhand glows red again as he is bathed in a blueish black light. Quickly picking up his sword he swings cutting spear after spear in half but he can't get them all.

Some hit his body and fade as the dark blue light dulls every time he is hit. After the bombardment ends parts of his grey robes reveal the dull black armor hiding beneath. It is the armor once forged with ancient dragon scales.

Some of the dragon hide sections had been burned through and Gwyn's lightning had cracked the breastplate. Coughing up a bit of blood Lorian looked on at the knights who were now almost covered in the miasma he had been leaking since the beginning.

Gwyn knew his knights didn't have long in the miasma, but he didn't care. As long as he survived long enough to kindle the flame.

Standing a bit battered Lorian swung his blade softly to the side. It was a small gesture but the Silver Knights knew what it meant, it meant pestilence was coming. First, only a subtle mist rolled off Lorians sword, but it didn't take long for that mist to begin gushing out in all directions. The Knights began coughing as it covered them but Gwyn looked unfazed.

With a wave of his other hand, a black flame scythe appeared stretching almost 10 feet cleaving down the Knights between Lorian and Gwyn. The knights fell to the ground now just dry husks as their lifeforce had been drained away. The ones further away slowly died off one by one, falling while grasping to the sky.

Gwyn's face hardened seeing the dark miracle performed. Holding out his right hand a sword appeared in a wreath of fire which he pointed at Lorian. Flames sprouted from the blade blazing several feet... halfway to the now approaching Lorian. With an exaggerated motion, Gwyn pulled back his sword for a massive swing.

Seeing the opening Lorian rushed forward grabbing Gwyn's hand on the way down. Gwyn's eyes widened at the display of speed and Lorian left no ceremony. With a single hand, he plunged his greatsword into Gwyn's gut looking into his eyes as he did. Gwyn's veins grew dark from the miasma infused sword as he began coughing out black blood.

Against his expectations Gwyn didn't look angry, instead, a mad smile flashed across his face. Peering past Gwyn he saw the dying bonfire and then he knew… but it was too late.

"Then we both go." Gwyn's left arm wrapped around Lorian before he could pull away. With a grunt, Gwyn pulled them both into the flame.

The small flame quickly grew consuming them both. Eventually, the flame consumed the entire kiln and all the dead knights along with it.

The flame had been reignited.