Chapter 5: Irreplaceable Confidant

Before they could even continue the conversation, an alarm blared.

"What's going on?" Asked Aine.

"It's a monster alarm; it looks like the village is being attacked," said the herald.

"Attacked?"

"Quickly, Lady Aine, we must go to the guild."

The herald lifted Aine up with one hand and dashed at blistering speeds towards the guild. They arrived there in just a few seconds.

At the guild, stress was building. Adventurers rushed out of the guild, carrying their weapons. Guards were lining up and advancing past the bridge separating the city from the wilderness. Mages stood their ground and began chanting.

"Lady Aine, please stand back; I shall show these monsters the true power of a herald!" He said.

"But what about your arm?" Aine asked.

"It's just my left hand; I one-hand all my weapons with my right anyway."

The herald pulled his sword out of the scabbard on his back. He pulled out a Greatsword with a golden handle and crossguard and a black blade with red accents. It burns bright like the sun.

He pointed the blade at the bridge as powerful monsters began to wipe out the guards and adventurers. The mages held their ground, but to no avail; at this rate, the monsters will break through.

The herald dashed forward and jousted his sword at the enemies. With one single strike, he cleaned up a row of enemies. He placed himself in the middle of the monster hoard, only for him to make a bloodbath out of the monsters.

It was gruesome; his blade slashed through skin, meat, and even their armor and shields. The blade could not be stopped; it slashed through everything like butter.

"What are you waiting for? With Me!" He shouted.

The adventurers and guards around him rallied up and charged with him. Even with only one arm, his powers are still immense. He made the struggling guards and adventurers look like amateurs.

They were able to push back the monsters, but then a powerful evil presence flooded the field. A few weak-minded fighters left the battlefield as a result of the intimidation.

"Stand your ground, men!" Shouted the Herald.

Even some of the stronger-looking adventurers were trembling in their boots. A purple light could be seen in the distance. The purple light then turned into a laser that blasted towards the village.

The herald stabbed his sword into the ground and began chanting. His sword began glowing a ferocious red. The laser approaches closer and closer. The herald then screamed, "KING SHIELD!"

The sword released a gigantic wall of pure energy. The laser makes contact, and the shield stands its ground, unphased, as the laser attempts to drive through it.

After a few seconds, the laser lost its power and evaporated into the air. A huge snake then tackled the shield. A crack formed on the shield, showing the snake's raw power. The snake then cast a gaze on the village, then retreated back and slithered away into the stygian darkness.

The herald put down his shield, picked up his sword, and placed it back in its scabbard. Aine walked towards the herald; he was just standing there.

"Hey, what was that?" Aine asked.

"A Ryujin, one of the strongest races of big snakes in this world," he answered.

"Ryujin?"

"The Ryujin was once thought to be a tame species. But when Lord Deimos stole the sun, this species suddenly turned very hostile, constantly attacking civilization. It appears the species doesn't take very lightly the sun being gone."

Whatever that snake was, it really had such a daunting presence that even some of the resolute adventurers and guards cowered in fear. It truly shows how fucked up this world has become when stripped from its sun.

"By the way, I don't think I've got your name," asked Aine.

"Oh, of course. My name is Herald Abaddon, and I am ranked 2nd among the 6 Heralds."

"2nd?"

"Yes, I am the second strongest, and you sliced my hand off."

Aine stood there with a guilty look on her face.

"Sorry about the hand," said Aine awkwardly.

"Don't worry, I can just get a robotic one attached in the capital. But it doesn't change the fact that you made me realize something."

"How so?"

"I was corrupt, but now I've changed. I know you have your life, and I'm not going to force myself on you, so here, take this."

Abaddon handed Aine a necklace with a red gemstone on it.

"Wear this; if you are ever in trouble or need a bit of company, call my name, and I will come forth before you," he said.

"Wait, I have one more question," said Aine.

"What is it?"

"What is this about taxing the guild?" Aine asked.

"Well, when Deimos assumed power, he pretty much tore down a bunch of the old kingdom's associations; the guild was one of them. But he spared the guild in exchange for the guild paying a monthly tax to Deimos. We Heralds, however, used to get an easy paycheck." He said.

"And you were doing just that, weren't you?"

"I'm terribly sorry; I've learned the error of my ways, and I will strive to better myself."

Aine could feel that Abaddon really did have a change of heart; she didn't know the cause, but it seemed like a change for the better.

Abaddon then snapped his fingers, turned into a crow and flew away. Aine put on the necklace and walked back to the village.

Meanwhile, in the Capital, Abaddon arrived in front of the capitol building. He walked into the dark hall that leads to the throne room. A gremlin greeted Abaddon.

"Master Abaddon, you've returned," said the gremlin.

"Gremlin, tell the blacksmith to forge me a new arm," ordered Abaddon.

"Of course, sir, but may I ask how you lost your arm?"

Abaddon looked at the gremlin menacingly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for asking, I'm sorry," he pleaded as he scurried away.

Back in the village, Aine left the battlefield and headed for the farm. But before she could walk far, the receptionist from the guild chased after her.

"Miss Aine!" shouted the receptionist.

Aine turned around, asking, "What's wrong?

"Please come with me to the guild," she said.

"Why?"

"The guildmaster would like a word with you; please come with me," she begged.

Aine was reluctant, but she agreed nonetheless, as she doesn't think the receptionist had anything to hide or lie about. Aine followed her back to the guild and walked into a door that said 'Employees Only'.

Aine was led into the guildmaster's office; there, the guildmaster was sitting at his desk, reviewing paperwork. The guildmaster looked incredibly intimidating.

He is a tall, long-haired blond man with pointed ears that resemble an elf's. His hair grew out down to his shoulder. He wore a beautifully knitted jacket and long black pants with black shoes. He had three silver necklaces; two of them he wore around his neck, and the last one was wrapped around his left hand with its pendant inside the clutches of his fist.

"Hello, Miss Aine," he said softly, "please have a seat."

Aine took a seat on the couch opposite him.

"So, you were the one who chopped off the Second Herald's arm?" He asked.

"Y-Yes, that would be correct, sir," answered Aine quietly and nervously.

"And after all that, he forgave you like nothing ever happened," he continued.

Aine was sweating profusely; it felt like the man was reading her like a book. His glare is both intimidating and calming, scary yet welcoming; it caused a sense of uneasiness within Aine.

"Miss Aine, I don't usually get intrigued by humans; if anything, I think humans are at the bottom of the food chain. They are weak and need protection, which is why I created this guild," he said.

Aine was surprised by such a remark.

"But you are no human. I've lived for more than 1500 years, and I've not seen a human achieve such a feat without at least signing a deal with the devil," he said. "What kind of contract did you form?"

"I don't know," answered Aine. "I don't even know how I did that."

The man sighed in disbelief.

"Are you sure you don't know where the origin of that power is?" He asked.

"No, sir, I would have told you if I did."

He sighed once more. "Miss Aine, do you understand what this means?"

Aine looked confused, signifying she didn't.

"Miss Aine, you are using magic without a verified master. We wizards and witches have to have this magician's brooch," he said as he showed his brooch that was hidden in the pocket of his jacket.

The brooch had two names written on it.

"As you can see, my name is written on top and my master's name under it. This shows that I am a verified practitioner of magic, and I'm assuming you don't have a brooch..." he said.

Aine shook her head. The man placed his brooch back in his pocket and stood up.

"Miss Aine, under the laws of the Magician's Order, you are hereby under arrest for illegally studying the mystic arts," he said as he whipped out his wand and pointed it straight at Aine as its tip glows green.

Two guards entered the room and dragged Aine out of it, handcuffing her with a rope. Aine couldn't even struggle; she was in shock. Everything was happening so fast.

All she saw on the way out were adventurers looking at her with a disgusted look on their faces. The receptionist looked at her with pity while simultaneously looking away from her, seemingly to save face and disassociate herself from Aine.

She was stuffed in a cage that was towed by two horses and driven away. She didn't even struggle; before she could start to comprehend the situation, she was knocked out cold by one of the guards.

And so, now knocked out cold, she was brought to the nearest prison. The road was dark and bumpy; it went straight through the Forest of Dreams, where she first woke up. The road will continue up the Obice Mountain Range.

Four hours later, she woke up with the second-worst headache she had ever experienced. She tried moving, but her hands were tied behind her back. She was lying sideways on hay that smelled horrible.

Around her was a cage. Her bag was placed haphazardly next to her, and all of its contents were dropping out. It looks like they didn't even bother taking her fickens as the bag looked to be still untouched. It looks like the guards didn't really take the time to confiscate her stuff.

She looked around her more to see the two guards before driving the carriage. The carriage was moving quite fast. One of the guards, however, was asleep while the other was driving the horse.

She looked down at her clothes to see that Abaddon's necklace was still there. Could this be a chance to ask for his help?

Call out for his name, he said, and Aine did just that.

"Abaddon, hey Abaddon," she whispered. No response.

"Hey, Abaddon, I could really use your help right now, please," she whispered again.

Suddenly, the rock embedded in the necklace began to glow softly.

"Lady Aine? What's wrong?" A voice asked

"Abaddon, is that you?" She asked while whispering.

"Yes, it's me; why are you whispering?" He asked.

Just before Aine was about to answer, the guard shouted and banged the metal cage with his sword.

"OI! WHAT ARE YOU WHISPERING ABOUT? YOU PRISONERS SHOULD KEEP THE HELL QUIET!"

Aine gulped down her saliva out of anxiousness.

"I understand the situation; I'll find you," said Abaddon as the glow on the necklace stopped. It would seem the guard didn't notice the necklace.

Aine could only pray that Abaddon showed up. With nothing else to do, she tries to fall back to sleep.

She fell back asleep, only to be woken up by a blistering cold. She could see her breath coming out of her mouth. She was shivering from the cold.

She looked down at her necklace only to see it periodically blinking a dim red light. It looks like Abaddon hasn't arrived yet.

Her dress is nowhere near thick enough to keep her warm; at this rate, she might even freeze. All she can hear is the violent, icy wind, which is absolutely deafening. She couldn't warm her hands due to them being tied behind her back.

She looked at the guards only to see that they had a heater. This isn't her getting arrested; this is a death sentence. While the guard stays warm, she will slowly freeze to death.

Her lips were dry, and she was parched. She had gone several hours without drinking any water. Her stomach was rumbling, and death seemed all too certain at that moment.

She lay there almost lifeless for minutes on end; she was right at death's door. Her face was bright red, and her body was trying to keep her warm. She was unable to continue; her eyes were glued shut, and she succumbed to the cold.

She heard a huge smashing sound before falling completely unconscious, followed by complete silent. Not even a dream was here to greet her; she was back to square one, all alone in this cold world.

She felt the touch of someone. It seemed like she was getting carried somewhere Soon, a certain warmth greeted her. Is this what death is? Warm? Whatever it was, it felt nice.