New age

The strigoi lost its arrow into the dust, navigating by pure instinct alone. Zellrid raised his hand, catching the arrow with his remaining limb. The impact sent a painful jolt through his arm, but he held onto it.

With a guttural cry, Zellrid hurled the arrow back at the strigoi, who narrowly ducked beneath its deadly trajectory.

He moved with a speed that belied his monstrous size, tearing through the dust cloud towards Zellrid with claws extended.

Zellrid, his figure fading into the swirling dust, summoned all his remaining strength and swung his blade fiercely. His energy was waning rapidly.

The two collided in a catastrophic meeting of force. While the earth trembled underfoot, sending ripples across the ruined landscape.

In a blink of an eye, strigoi's claws pierced zellrid stomach violently.

With a primal scream, Zellrid thrust his remaining hand, and the severed one he clutched tightly in his teeth towards the monster's gaping eye socket.

Fire and lightning surged from his fingertips. They channeled into the creature until it trembled with the threat of explosion.

The monster tried to flee, but Zellrid stood firm. His body was covered in cuts and blood. He refused to let its claws retreat from the gaping wound it had inflicted on him.

"AAGHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

With all his being, Zellrid unleashed an ultimate attack. It destroyed the monster's head and caused a massive explosion.

The force of the blast sent Zellrid flying. He crashed into the lake, the icy water a brutal shock.

 He surfaced, gasping, clinging to the wreckage of his own body. Dawn was breaking, painting the sky with streaks of orange and gold.

Dragging himself onto the shore, Zellrid looked upon the ruined village, once a bustling hub of life and energy, now reduced to rubble and ash.

 A ragged cough wracked his body, each one a bloody harbinger of the end. "Forgive me, Thorgar, my—" he rasped, as his vision swam, the once vibrant world fading to a dull, grey blur.

 One last, hollow breath escaped his lips, and then, silence…

 ***

"what you wanna be when you grow up brother?"

"Me?" the big brother asked, looking up at the twinkling stars above.

"I wanna be a healer, help people, and cure our parents. What about you? "

The crisp night air enveloped the two brothers sitting by the river, their breaths visible in the moonlight.

Torchbugs fluttered around them, casting a soft glow on the nearby flowers. The older brother, with long hair and numerous scars for his young age, spoke quietly to his little brother who lay contentedly on his lap.

They gazed up at the starry sky, lost in peaceful silence.

"I-I want to become a god, remove evil, end warfare, eat any food I desire, and assist people like you, brother."

The little brother's voice was filled with innocent hope as he spoke, his eyes shimmering with anticipation.

The elder brother's smile was tender and loving as he reached out to tousle his younger sibling's hair.

"That's quite an ambitious dream you have, my little one. But always remember, there is no such thing as a good god, if there were, we wouldn't be suffering in this world." His voice was full of warmth and wisdom as he gazed up at the twinkling stars above.

They sat in contemplative silence for a while longer, watching the torchbugs flit about in their dance of light and shadow. Finally, the younger brother stirred in his older brother's lap.

"Do you think I can make it happen? Become a god and help everyone?" His voice was tinged with uncertainty.

The older brother let out a soft sigh before speaking. "You see, a man is like a god to himself. He chooses to be either a master or a slave. Choose to be the god of yourself."

The little brother pondered his older brother's words, trying to understand their depth. He looked up at the stars again, feeling a sense of purpose wash over him.

"I will become the god of myself, and I will help as many people as I can," he declared, his voice resolute. He stood up, straightened his back, and took a deep breath. "And when I grow up, I will help you to be a healer using my powers."

The older brother chuckled softly. "Alright then, I'll hold you to your word, let's get back to home."

The two brothers then stood up, brushing off the dirt from their clothes.

As they walked hand in hand through the dark woods, their fingers intertwined like a lifeline, the stars above provided a glimmer of hope.

In the distance, they could see three figures near their cottage - two men and a woman.

"We should head back to my cottage," said one of the men, leading the way with his short hair and piercing yellow eyes.

He was dressed in a white shirt and leather pants, dirtied from trekking through the muddy forest.

"It's not safe to be out at night in these parts. The trolls have been more active lately."

"That's father" the younger brother said in voice like a whisper.

The older brother's eyes met with the two men, and he nodded in agreement. "I know," he said, letting out a sigh.

"What a shame." They picked up their pace, the younger brother tugging on his brother's hand as they made their way towards the father.

As they neared, their father turned to them.

"Ah, here you are!" he exclaimed. "Gentlemen, these are my sons Zellrid and Zolarice. Please, go inform your mother that we have guests for dinner."

The older brother, Zolarice, paused for a moment before nodding and swiftly running towards the cottage.

His younger brother, Zellrid, cast a wary glance at the approaching duo of women and men. 

"oh look at this kid graham, how adorable, your name tho…"

"Leave him be, Madeline," Graham said with a chuckle, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Let's not scare the poor boy."

"But what's the matter with my na—" Zellrid's query hung in the air, abruptly severed by his father's interjection. "Would you mind stepping inside? The chill is starting to seep into my bones."

Zellrid paused for a moment, then complied with his father's wishes and enteerd the cottage, followed by the other couples. Once inside, the cozy warmth of the fireplace greeted them

Zellrid's gaze immediately found his older brother's. A silent conversation passed between them; an unspoken question hung in the air.