Sir Riven's fall

The flames grew larger, swallowing the werewolf's form in their fiery embrace. For a moment, it seemed as if he would be consumed entirely, lost in the Inferno. And then, with a roar that shook the very foundations of the manor, Riven emerged from the flames, his fur alight with an unnatural fire that danced and writhed around him like a living cloak. His eyes burned with a hatred that transcended the human, his teeth bared in a snarl that promised a painful end to those who dared stand against him.

Aldwyn and the Sylvan Siren watched in a mix of horror and awe as Riven's skin began to heal before their very eyes. The burnt fur fell away in clumps, revealing the raw, red muscle beneath. Yet even as they stared, the flesh began to knit itself back together, the muscles moving like serpents under the charred surface. The flames licking his body did not seem to harm him; instead, they seemed to fuel his rage, making him stronger.

The Sylvan Siren took a step back, her eyes wide with fear. "Aldwyn, we must retreat," she whispered urgently, her voice trembling.

But Aldwyn's gaze was fixed on Riven, his mind racing. He knew that retreat would mean failure, and he wasn't one to accept defeat easily. He took a deep breath, focusing his will.

And then, something unexpected occurred. The furious werewolf faltered. He stumbled, his massive form crashing to the ground with a thud that echoed through the chamber.

Riven's body contorted and writhed as if he were being devoured from the inside out. His fur smoked and fell away in clumps, revealing the raw, red muscle beneath. His eyes, once yellow with rage, now rolled back in his head, showing only the whites.

„What the hell.... Are these the side effects of the forced transformation?" Aldwyn thought to himself as he observed the situation from a safe distance.

Aldwyn took a tentative step forward, the Nightmare Blade held at the ready. The room was silent except for the crackling of the flames that still danced around Riven's body. The Sylvan Siren's eyes searched Aldwyn's, seeking guidance in the face of this new, unforeseen development.

"Please," Riven's voice was a guttural rasp, his body convulsing. "End this... I beg you." The words were a stark contrast to the creature's monstrous form, a plea that seemed to echo from a human soul trapped in a prison of pain.

Aldwyn took a cautious step forward, the tip of the Nightmare Blade hovering just above the werewolf's heart. He could see the fear in Riven's eyes, a fear that transcended the beastly rage.

And then, something utterly unexpected happened. As if under an unseen force, Riven's hand shot up and clamped down on the blade, stopping its descent. His eyes were filled with a terror so profound it seemed to freeze the very air around them. The room was eerily silent, save for the crackling of the dying flames that clung to the fur that had once covered his body.

With his free hand, Aldwyn drew his Black Elemental revolver, coating the two bullets in the chamber with the shadows he had mastered. The metal gleamed a dull black as the power of the shadows seeped into the ammunition.

Aldwyn aimed at Riven's head, the gun's barrel steady despite his racing heart. His silver eyes met the creature's yellow ones, and for a brief moment, he saw the humanity that lurked behind the beastly visage. The werewolf's grip on the Nightmare Blade tightened, his body trembling with the effort of maintaining his form.

With a sharp exhale, Aldwyn pulled the trigger twice.

[Bang] [Bang]

The revolver bucked in his hand, the muzzle flashing in the dim light. The bullets streaked through the air, each one a dark whisper of shadows and malice.

The first bullet struck Riven's forehead, embedding itself deep in his skull. The second tore through the space between his eyes, leaving twin trails of shadow in its wake. For a moment, the werewolf remained still, his hand still clutching the hilt of the Nightmare Blade. Then, with a final, anguished scream, the beast within him was no more. His body spasmed once, twice, before going limp.

The room was eerily quiet, the only sounds the crackling of the dying embers and the soft drip of water from the damaged ceiling. The Sylvan Siren cautiously approached, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Is it... over?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Aldwyn remained motionless for a moment before answering. "Not yet, we should check on Mr. Blackwood. He should be down in the chamber, and we need to hurry." He tore his gaze away from Riven's lifeless form, his mind racing with the implications of what they had just witnessed.

The duo descended the stairs, the tension in the air thick as they approached the chamber.

When they arrived, the room was completely empty. The once cluttered space was now devoid of any trace of life, the shelves bare, and the air stale. The flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the stone walls, dancing in a silent waltz that spoke of the absence that lay before them. The artifacts they had come to retrieve were nowhere to be seen. It was as if the very essence of the chamber had been erased, leaving only an echo of what once was.

The Sylvan Siren gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "What sorcery is this?" she whispered, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for a clue that could explain the inexplicable.

Aldwyn's gaze was sharp, his mind racing as he took in the scene before him. „Did Blackwood use us both to claim the artefacts for himself? But how? How is that possible..."

"Do you know anything about this?" he demanded, his voice a low growl as he turned to face her. "Could Mr. Blackwood have betrayed us?"

The Sylvan Siren's eyes widened in shock. "Betrayed us?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "No, I don't... I don't understand. He would never do that..."

The plaster above them was cracking, flaking away to reveal the wooden beams beneath. Dust rained down upon them and the room was collapsing around them.

"We must leave," Aldwyn said, his voice a command that brooked no argument. The Sylvan Siren nodded, her eyes wide with fear as she took in the destruction that was rapidly spreading throughout the chamber. They moved with a sense of urgency that seemed to belie their earlier confidence, their steps quick and precise as they navigated the treacherous terrain.

They reached an alley relatively quickly, the cool night air a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of the battle they had just left behind. The cobblestones were slick with rain, reflecting the dim glow of the gas lamps that flickered overhead.

From a safe vantage point, they watched as the former manor of sir Riven collapsed in upon itself, a maelstrom of shadows and debris. The once-majestic structure was now nothing more than a pile of rubble, a tomb for the creature they had brought down. The sound of the collapse was deafening, a cacophony of breaking stone and shattering glass that echoed through the night.

Once the dust had settled, Aldwyn turned to the Sylvan Siren, his face a mask of cold calculation. "We must split up," he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

"My mission is complete, my priority was always to protect lila. I don't really care what happens with blackwood... Even if it's annoying that I didn't get any artifacts.

"But if you discover anything about the situation, you can write me a letter. I'll be staying in the city for a few more days. Just send it to Lord Adrian's manor." He added.

The Sylvan Siren nodded solemnly. "I will," she assured him. Just as she was about to leave, she paused for a moment. "By the way... My name is Merlara, it was a pleasure to work with you."

Aldwyn gave a curt nod. "Likewise," he said, his voice devoid of warmth. He watched as she disappeared into the shadows of the alley. Then, with the rain pattering against the hood of his coat, he turned his gaze back to the wreckage of the manor.

....