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Songs of Souls

Bathed in the unyielding glow of a colossal tower, the war-torn realm of Craiddhol harbors Elemenium deposits, a mystical material with the power to reshape battlefields and destinies. Three sworn brothers from a peaceful village – Deynfif, the brilliant earth wielder, Einntyr, the boisterous brawler, and Hirua, the scarred but determined warrior – find their lives ravaged by the Miers Empire's cruelty. When a devastated village raises their resolve, the brothers must unite to defend their home. They face the Empire's deadly forces, led by the cold Empress Inaya and her haunting Friedenguard, Arguilla – a threat to all of Craiddhol. Embark alongside them on a perilous quest where every action reverberates across destiny's interwoven threads. With the guidance of the enigmatic Songs of Souls, can their bond withstand the pressures of war, or will their fate shatter under the weight of destiny?

Dinove_Twonine · Fantasie
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26 Chs

A Discordant Escape

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The nadir light of midnight revealed the jagged silhouettes of the Miers camp, a harsh landscape of tents and makeshift shelters. The air thrummed with the stifled sounds of a restless camp: snores, groans, and coughs. An eerie silence hung between the noises, as if the darkness itself held its breath. Hirua moved through the shadows, each step a measured whisper on the damp ground. Kyura, her bell silenced, darted beside him, her eyes scanning the camp with the urgency of a silent alarm.

Einntyr, slumped on a barrel at the far eastern edge of the encampment, fidgeted beneath the Miers' unwavering gaze. Deynfif stood in the heart of the camp, Earth Staff clutched tightly in hand.

Hirua and Kyura reached the wall of the west gate, backs pressed against the rough wall. A silent exchange, a shared heaving breath, eyes darting back and forth, and they were prepared for their next move.

A faint thud from Hirua's direction cued Deynfif. His staff hummed as he launched a pebble, striking Einntyr's barrel with a sharp click.

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Einntyr's grin widened as a wicked thought ignited in his mind. "From dim to divine, let the world shine!" His scream echoed through the darkness. He scrambled up, frenzied hands igniting random objects with a snap – "Fire Style: Pyro Party!" Flames erupted around him, hot and wild, sending sparks scattering like a swarm of angry gloubugs. "Behold!" He roared, barely audible over the chaos, "The dazzling dance of Einntyr's Radiant Rhapsody!" He ducked, feeling the heat of a flaming plank whoosh past where his head had been a moment before. Close one! The air filled with the stink of smoke, making his eyes water. So much for that fancy moss smell.

Two Miers slammed to a stop, faces contorted like they'd smelled something awful. A voice boomed, and those two big lugs charged, their weapons catching the firelight. Time for a heroic tumble outta here!

He took off like a runaway boulder, sideswiping one guard with a satisfying 'oof'. Before the second guard could react, he tried to dodge, his feet a tangled mess. He landed hard, right on top of some poor snoring sap. A high-pitched squeal cut through the air, startling him as much as the soldier. "Oops! Sorry 'bout that sir!"

"Eat dust!" He whooped, ducking under a wild swing that whistled past his ear. He danced around the soldiers, blows landing harmlessly on empty air. "Did you see that?" He rolled with the impact, springing back to his feet in an instant. "Totally awesome." He spun on his heel and dove headfirst into the nearest tent. Canvas slapped his face, and then— pop —he was through, bursting out the other side, a little winded but not tired.

"Gotcha!" he cackled, grabbing a nearby crate and heaving it with all his might. The crate slammed into the soldier's chest with a sickening thud, the air whooshing out of his lungs. The soldier crumpled, eyes wide with surprise.

"Try and catch me, slowpokes!" he taunted, his laughter echoing through the panicked shouts and the roar of the flames. He was a blur, dodging and weaving, his mind racing ahead, plotting his next move. This was almost too easy!

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Hirua braced as the roar of flames and shouts erupted from across the camp. The air, thick with the stench of sweat and a stale, earthy smell, was suddenly cut by the sharp, almost sweet scent of smoke. Both guards closest to the alarm bell stiffened, their eyes flicking towards the source of the noise. His heart hammered in his chest. Now!

He whipped out his Fire Bolo. The blade blazed, a searing arc that slammed into the first guard's chest. The smell of burnt sugar hit his nose as the man went down with a grunt. The next one brought up his shield, but the bolo sliced through like it was kindling. He slammed the hilt into the guard's jaw before a sound could escape his throat. Two more charged. He feinted left, heart pounding like a drum solo, then spun right. The blade danced, a fiery line that left the air sizzling. Scorched leather, a whiff of singed hair... those guards were a hairsbreadth from being well-done. They hit the ground out cold before they could even squeak.

He yanked the mechanism of the gate, but it refused to budge. His neck prickled with cold. The gate's lock snagged his gaze. Malfunction? Nah, a setup! Darn it!

Every muscle in his body throbbed, itching to smash the obstacle. He lunged, blade flashing towards the mechanism. His blade met an unseen barrier, the impact jolting him back like a slap to the face as the air thrummed with a strange energy. What in the blazes?! The air crackled with a repulsive force, his fire energy sputtering and dying like a doused flame. Different energies… swirling.

The Fire Bolo screeched against the barrier, each clang a bitter bite of failure. Sizzle and spark, a taunting aroma of burnt metal filled the air. Each clang hammered in his ears, like their escape was turning to ash. His jaw ached with the force of his gritted teeth, a sour taste of bile rising in his throat. Supid Lock!

There's gotta be another way. His eyes darted around frantically. Darn it! Can't think! This is Deynfif's job!

Kyura stood beside him, her eyes darting, head swiveling as she scanned the area. Gotta protect her! His grip tightened on the hilt, a vein bulging on his forehead. He poured every ounce of fire energy into the bolo, the elemenium screaming against the stubborn barrier. The bolo felt like it was about to melt in his grip, heat mirroring the fire in his chest. Argh! Spice it up! Just when he has found her! He can't give up.

Each blow pulsed pain up his arms, but the barrier would still not budge. Nothing. The blade just bounced back, useless as a soggy biscuit. The whole mess tasted like burnt toast; bitter and stuck in his throat. His arms throbbed, each breath a struggle to pull in. Couldn't see straight, the world getting fuzzy around the edges. A sob built in his chest, but he swallowed it down hard. His grip on the hilt tightened. Spice-fire rage, that's what burned in his gut now. No way he was giving up.

Hold on...the Amplification attribute! Risky, but… he had to try it.

He gritted his teeth, channeling more fire into his blade. With the Amplification attribute activated, the bolo thrummed in his grip, the heat flaring hotter, hungrier. Each swing felt like it was eating away at him, leaving him emptier.

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Each clang hammered in Deynfif's ears, his pulse keeping pace with the frantic rhythm. Closer now – the metallic clang of boots on dirt, each step a pummel blow driving into the ground. Torchlight danced between tents, painting jagged edges of shadow that lunged closer with every step. He's here.

His staff tapped a furious rhythm against the packed earth. The ground shuddered in response. Razor-sharp spikes of earth tore from beneath the surface, erupting where those figures had been a moment before. Startled yells cut through the night. His breath hitched. They moved like a jumbled equation, all misplaced variables instead of a disciplined unit. Easy to predict, too easy…

Einntyr slammed into him, a blur of limbs and breathless shouts. Without a word, they turned. Each stride was a desperate calculation of angles and gaps between the canvas walls. The gate was a rectangle mocking him; each stride forward only brought more canvas, more rope, more things to trip over. Metal clanged closer, each rang a hammer blow on his nerves. Torchlight flickered, twisting familiar shapes into looming threats.

Something whizzed past his ear, a dark shape with a glint of metal catching the firelight. "Scorching Screen" Einntyr roared. A wall of heat slammed into him, the air itself seeming to ignite. Einntyr's hand blazed. The projectiles, those deadly points, met the flames and vanished in bursts of hissing energies.

His fingers tightened on the staff, the elemenium hard against his palm. The pulsating wham of Hirua's attack pounded in his ears, each strike echoing the frantic beat of his heart.

Each clang of elemenium against the barrier was like a hammer blow against his own hope. The barrier held. An unbreakable line. No escape. His eyes swept along the wall, tracing the barrier's pulsing energy. It throbbed with a force that seemed to push back, a physical manifestation of their dwindling hope. Every beat of his heart hammered against his ribs, a countdown he couldn't stop. He searched for a break, a gap, any weakness in the barrier's flow. Nothing. No way over. No way through. The gate stood, an unyielding equation. No solution.