Royalty?

Michael felt bones break under the impact of his blow. He heard the beast below in agony and what he hoped was terror. The resulting shock-wave rippled through the forest ripping through bushes and scaring trees alike.

Yet Michael was only getting started. Darkness welled up in his eyes, the dark of his iris the milk of his eyes as he lost sight of everything around him. His vision tunneled to only see the beast. He felt different, powerful, stronger than even the repulsive nightmare that wanted to devour him. The thought filled him with unbridled rage. He had forgotten his rage, he had lost sight of what it meant to desire to destroy something.

The feeling washed over him devouring his fear and sense of rational. He didn't even need rational, he had hands and the beast was about to catch them. He swung his arm back and pummeled the abomination. It held its ground, resisting the force that came with each blow. Michael didn't mind. He wanted it to fight, he hoped it wouldn't be easy.

The beast staggered after the second blow. It hadn't a normal face, so there was no expression to read its current thoughts from but it was disoriented. This outcome was not within its expectations. Yet, when everything was said and done, it was a beast. It devoured what it thought was food. And it held the same thought for Michael. It roared in rage matching Michael's mood.

Caster was beyond awed patched up high in the trees. He had not failed to see the transformation in Michael. It was unexpected. The rage the young man gave off was familiar to him. Yet for Michael to so easily tap into that rage was unprecedented. The power of an emissary, especially one of death, was fueled strongly by their heart and soul. If one's true desire resonated with that of the strength of his soul, then he became a vessel to channel true boundless power.

The darkness in Michael's eyes was a testament to that resonance.

Michael was still gripped at the feet by its massive tentacles, it used them as a whip and spiked Michael to the ground with so much force that the impact formed a crater. The darkness of his eyes wavered a little, the white of his cornea showing for a brief second. Not offering him any respite, the beast hurled Michael through the trees so hard that he slammed once more with the golden barrier on the other end.

As if anticipating a serious altercation, Caster had placed a golden dome to keep them inside and prevent the destruction from spreading throughout the forest. Also, it was easier to observe the fight if it happened in a confined space.

On impact, Micheal heard something crack once more. He paid it no heed. He was like a frenzied beast, his rage boundless and consuming. He felt the void in his abdomen tugging at his mind. As if begging him to unleash what lay beneath. And that he gladly did.

Dark purple shadows tainted in red surged from within him and shrouded his form in a dark mantle hiding even his face.

An ominous aura shrouded his small frame and he looked like a specter of darkness as he stood motionless below the energy barrier. The beast sensed something was different and slowed in its advance. Beast and greater beast stared at each other with murderous intent. The air almost crackled between them. However, the disparity in strength had already become clear, one of them was stronger than the other. One of them wanted the other dead more than the other.

And they moved. Michael was barely a blur in the eyes of the beast. However, Caster followed his movements like a hawk.

The ground where his feet fell dried and the plants died. The air around him turned cold and light seemed to be devoured by his shadow mantel. The beast faltered where it stood before its primal instincts roared and it charged forward. At least it tried.

Before it could take a step forward a small bony hand fell on its throat. The beast froze in place, its whole body shuddering.

Michael, in this form, was afforded an especially devastating skill. Hand of rot was an insidious ability that devoured life from anything that fell within his touch. The beast was unlucky. Very unlucky.

For the young man who wore darkness, the world around him suddenly disappeared. He found himself standing in the middle of a swamp. The area was filled by a thick fog that obscured the skies and hid from Michael what lay beyond where he stood.

The rage that had given him purpose until then dissipated like smoke and he remembered himself. It was weird, he had felt so fulfilled that now he felt almost hollow. He had answered to the rage because he felt it was right. A part of him was still dark, and he allowed it to blossom. In that moment his worries were distant and his future wasn't as bleak. It was ironically, peaceful but also disturbing.

"Are you here to set me free?" A voice resounded from somewhere in the fog.

Michael put his guard up as he scanned the area for anything remotely alive. He didn't have to, a man stepped into his view. Old with deep wrinkles on his face. His hands trembled and his back was hunched as he approached Michael. Water splashed as the man moved closer, his hollow eyes bearing into Michael.

"You are... different. " the man said. "Set me free, please", he pleaded to a confused Michael.

Wasn't Michael fighting an abominable creature a few seconds ago? Who then was this? He recalled the meeting with Amelia. It wasn't a dream? he wondered as he stared into the man trying to make sense of things. What did he mean by setting him free?

Something poked at his mind as if it was trying to access his thoughts. Michael threw a distrustful gaze at the man. He knew the feeling.

"Apologies your highness", the man said with a deep bow. "I beg you, set me free".

Michael was beyond confused. What was he supposed to do? He didn't want to fulfill the man's wishes, yet it nagged at him that he didn't have the slightest idea what the man spoke of.

Before he could open his mouth to ask what the man meant. The fog that shrouded the area ignited. Almost instantaneously, flames devoured the area around them. It all happened in an instant. Then the flames ravaged the man and ate at him from the inside. However, despite the pain it might have caused him, he didn't scream. He looked at Michael in gratitude.

"Thank you", he uttered before his whole body was consumed. Michael felt the wells of his strength fill up as his whole body was invigorated. Then the familiar tug at his consciousness brought him back into his body just as the mantle of shadows dissipated back into his soul.

[Authors note: Feedback is appreciated. Enjoy!]