The Red Lion

Aerion noticed the darkness of night settling over the landscape after his shower. Anticipating the dangers of the night, he swiftly cast a series of protective enchantments around his starship. 

As darkness deepened, his sharp eyes caught a distant flicker of fire on the horizon.

Could that be the rumoured Demi-God? Were others living in these forsaken lands? Questions swirled in Aerion's mind, unanswered and would stay unanswered for the night. 

He knew better than to venture into unknown territory in the cover of night.

Satisfied with his enchantments, Aerion double-checked their potency and settled into a restless sleep. 

Despite his enchantments the night was disturbed by a distant unearthly roar that breached even his magical defences, a chilling reminder of the planet's untamed dangers.

Not that Aerion noticed or awoke as his dreams of a red lion plagued him. 

Aerion woke at dawn with a groan, feeling unsettled yet determined. Sunlight pierced through the starship's windows, casting long shadows across the cockpit. 

He dressed swiftly, opting for practicality over his typical vanity, a dark tunic, sturdy trousers, and boots and a dragonhide belt adorned with a silver buckle. Instead of his usual blood-red cloak, he chose a darker, more subdued black cloak, a stark contrast against his bright platinum hair.

Stepping outside the starship, Aerion surveyed the desolate landscape with wary eyes. The air was heavy with the stench of decay and the eerie silence only increased the weight. 

As Aerion trekked over a large hill and spotted a distant castle,its battlements adorned with flame torches, beckoning like a beacon of challenge and danger on the horizon.

Aerion treaded cautiously, his senses alert to every sound and movement. Each step through the crimson soil felt like a constant battle with the hostile planet as its fauna tried to cling to his shoe and drag him down. 

Approaching the castle, Aerion noted its imposing structure, a relic of a seemingly forgotten civilization, now consumed by time and neglect. The flames danced ominously, casting eerie shadows that flickered across the crumbling walls.

As he drew nearer, Aerion's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. This place promised the fierce battle he sought, yet he knew not what awaited him within those ancient walls.

Aerion strode through the main entrance of the castle, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous hall. A cold breeze whispered through the desolate courtyard beyond, where ancient, rotting benches and rusted swords lay strewn about.

These remnants hinting at past glory and the toll of time, casting long shadows that danced eerily in the flickering torchlight.

Aerion ventured deeper into the castle, his eyes scanning every corner for traces of its storied past. Lion banners, now tattered and stained with age, hung limply from the walls, while half-burned ale cups and remnants of long rotten feasts lay forgotten on crumbling tables.

Rusty suits of armour stood like silent sentinels, their once-polished surfaces dulled by time and neglect. Each artefact spoke of battles fought and victories won, now relegated to haunting echoes in the empty corridors.

A lot of the castle was the same, it was clearly used for war and held against siege going by the traps laid around the castle. He eyed the crumbling walls and he realised the castle clearly didn't hold up forever. 

He turned his head to the last part of the castle left unexplored, it was what looks to be a place of worship. It's windows long ago cracked and shattered.

He took two steps into the church and eyed a large silver sword laid on the ground, it wasn't rusting. 

"L-Leave" a weak voice rasped, yet before even Aerion knew it he had conjured a spear into his clenched fist and pointed it at the figure in surprise.

The man was old, stagnant as he laid quietly against the benches. A brown bag sat over his head as he even struggled to lift his arm. The man seemed to wear some sort of Jester themed armour.

His old dented breastplate coloured with blue and red stripes that had worn out, his trousers baggy at the top by tight at the bottom were a striped black and yellow. 

"Who are you?" Aerion asked curiously, the man was clearly no threat. Not that he dropped the molten tipped spear pointed at the man's chest. 

"Leave." The man growled from deep in his chest, his voice still awfully raspy and he broke into a sudden coughing fit. 

Aerion didn't care all that much for his sorry state "Where are we?" He changed the question hoping the man would be preferable to this one.

"A-an accurs-" A thunderous roar interrupted the man, as the earth shook beneath the two men as the roar seemed to bounce around the church, its primal nature obvious.

The man didn't look at all surprised. "What is that?" Aerion asked as he turned to look towards the source of the sound.

That was concerningly close. 

Instead of answering the withering man just coughed "Why are you here?" He shakily switched the question onto the platinum haired God.

Aerion blinked in surprise as the old man lifted his head, locking eyes with him with a gaze as weathered as the castle stones. The reasons ran through his head quickly, he was here to explore, discover and understand what the hell this place was. 

But they were all secondary

"I am here to fight," he said as he stared down at the older man who coughed once again into his hands.

"We-well, you will find a good fight down there" The man slurred as he leaned his head back against the cold castle wall. 

Aerion turned to where the man was looking and saw an ajar wooden door, he walked over to the door and turned back facing the older man. 

"Thank you" Aerion said, causing the man to snort.

"If-if you can do it," The older man paused as he coughed once more "do it quickly," the man shakily gestured towards the door. "he has suffered enough already"

Aerions eyes lingered on the old man, there was more to the story undoubtedly. But as the man looked back down at his feet Aerion felt rude to push. 

Aerion's gaze fell upon an old, rickety wooden platform nestled in a dark corner. With a mix of anticipation and resolve, he crossed the hall to find a lever obscured by years of dust and neglect.

Gripping it firmly, Aerion pulled and the ancient mechanism creaked to life. The elevator descended slowly, each clank and rattle echoing through the stone shaft, carrying him toward an unknown depth and the promise of a formidable fight below.

The rickety wooden contraption stopped with a clank as it revealed a large desert sweeping miles each way, the sand was a light red. 

But what quickly caught Aerions attention was the bodies, hundreds of body's surrounded the edges of the desert.

His eyes widened  as he approached, noticing massive teeth marks on a blood stained breastplate, the stench of blood filled the air. Ignoring the odour Aerion straightened his back and scanned the desolate desert, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Ah he trekked over the crest of a towering dune, Aerion froze in shock at the scene unfolding ahead of him. A figure grotesque, hunched over a mound of bodies. With horrifying savagery, the creature tore into a knight's corpse with its teeth, the crunch of bones audible from a distance. 

The Demi-God for this could not be anything else had long dark red unkempt hair that stuck out of the back of his faded golden lion helm. 

His gigantic form stood at a towering 18 foot tall, clad in long faded golden armour that had fierce roaring lions emblazoned across the plates. 

Despite nearly a dozen large spears protruding from his back, the wounds seemed old and healed. A tattered cape once a vivid red, now hung from his shoulders in a deep maroon hue fluttering faintly from the breeze.

Aerion gripped the hilt of his spear tightly as his eyes narrowed on the form in a mix of horror and fascination. The Demi-Gods ferocity was evident in every movement, every snarl that reverberated around the desert was evidence to this. 

Aerion took a deep breath as his eyes lingered on the form, this was the battle he sought. A clash with a legendary warrior was his wish. 

So he smiled as his spear lit with divine flame and dragon magic as red electricity sparked down the weapon. 

"I am Aerion Odinson, Prince of Asgard" his voice rang around the suddenly silent desert as the beast paused and slowly turned his head to the form. "And you are?"