The Witch's last breath

Skalf trudged through the forest, the dark blood of the monsters still staining his clothes. "God damn it... I've been walking for four hours now..." he muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

Above him, the crow continued to fly, occasionally glancing back at Skalf. He couldn't help but feel a bit foolish for following the bird, yet something compelled him to keep going. Despite the uncertainty, he continued to follow it, drawn forward by an instinct he couldn't quite understand.

Suddenly, the crow began to descend, slowly gliding through the air before landing on the roof of a dilapidated building. Skalf's eyes widened in surprise as he realized where he was.

Before him lay a village—if it could still be called that. The place was in ruins, utterly devastated. No living soul remained; only the remains of dead demons and creatures that once inhabited this place littered the ground. Buildings and houses were nothing more than charred skeletons, burned and broken beyond recognition. The eerie silence of the village was heavy, a haunting reminder of the destruction that had taken place.

Skalf cautiously surveyed the village, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword, ready for any potential ambush. The atmosphere was tense, every shadow a possible threat.

Suddenly, strange noises echoed from a nearby house, breaking the eerie silence. The crow, as if sensing something, flew back to Skalf and perched on his cranium, its presence both a comfort and a burden.

Skalf sighed, glancing at the crow. "I assume you want me to go there..."

CAW!

Skalf took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead, and began to move toward the source of the noise.

--

Skalf moved cautiously toward the source of the strange sound, his senses on high alert. The further he walked, the clearer the sound became—it was chanting. As he approached the house, the chanting abruptly stopped, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake. Skalf stood at the entrance, peering into the darkness inside. The house was filled with destroyed objects and shattered furniture, a testament to the chaos that had befallen the place.

In the dim light, he saw an old demon woman sitting in the center of the room. Her skin was pale as snow, her long white hair cascading over her shoulders, and her eyes were like deep, dark voids. She wore a pitch-black cloak, and in her hands, she cradled a strange purple orb that pulsed faintly with an otherworldly energy.

"Ah... you finally came," the old woman said, her voice tired and weary.

Skalf stepped closer, towering over her as he looked down. "Who are you?"

The old woman chuckled softly, a sound that sent a chill down his spine. "Well, it's me... Maure. The king did talk about me, right?"

Skalf frowned, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Not really..."

Maure chuckled again, though this time it was tinged with a hint of bitterness. "Not surprised, that idiot..." She sighed, the weight of her age and the horrors she had seen evident in her voice. "I'm Maure... the witch of this village... or what's left of it."

Skalf crouched down to her level, his eyes meeting hers. "What happened here?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

Maure's expression darkened, and she let out a low growl. "Those damn Sun Grabbers... they took down everything..." Her voice was filled with anger and sorrow, the pain of loss etched into every word.

Skalf sighed, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on him. He should have known. The Sun Grabbers had not only attacked his team but had also ravaged this village. The destruction left in their wake was all too familiar.

Maure chuckled softly, her laughter tinged with bitterness. "You don't seem surprised," she remarked, her dark eyes studying him closely.

Skalf shook his head, a grim expression crossing his face. "I've seen their handiwork before. I should've expected this."

He looked at her, his voice steady. "And you? How did you manage to survive?"

Maure's gaze shifted to his hand, her expression filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. "I didn't survive, son... This tall knight gave me just a slow death..."

Skalf stood silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Then, something clicked in his mind—he realized who she was talking to. The captain. The realization hit him like a blow, and for a moment, the memories of his own encounters with the Sun Grabbers flooded back, mingling with the scene before him.

The old demon woman, Maure, looked at him with a knowing sadness, as if she had already accepted her fate. Skalf remained silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in deeper. 

Maure's breathing grew labored, the weight of her impending death evident in her voice. "Before I die... I need to tell you a story... and give you gifts."

Skalf stood silent, his expression solemn, and nodded, signaling for her to continue.

Maure took a deep, shaky breath, gathering her strength to recount the tale. "This world, as you see it now, was once whole—united under a single sky. But it didn't last. The world was divided into two realms: Light and Darkness. In the realm of Light, there were seven angels, each a guardian of the people, protectors of the peace, and warriors against the encroaching shadows. They shone like beacons, keeping the darkness at bay, and under their guidance, the Light thrived.

But the Darkness was not without its own power. Just as the Light had its angels, the Darkness had its own protectors—angels or kings, depending on who you ask. These beings were fierce and relentless, rulers of the night, guardians of the forgotten, and the lost souls who thrived where the light dared not reach.

For a time, there was a fragile balance between these two forces. Neither side could gain ground without losing it elsewhere. But then... there was Zarius. King Zarius, this idiot. He was one of the most powerful of the Dark Kings, feared and respected even among his own kind. Yet, he was ambitious—too ambitious for his own good.

Zarius, in his madness, decided that the balance was an affront to his power. He didn't want coexistence; he wanted domination. And so, he hatched a plan... a reckless, suicidal plan. He thought he could destroy the Light, kill all seven of its angels, and claim the world for the Darkness alone. And he intended to do it all by himself.

He was a king, yes, but no king is invincible. His arrogance blinded him. Zarius set out alone, leaving his kingdom, his people, and his allies behind. He confronted the angels of Light, one by one, tearing through their defenses with his sheer power and rage. The battles were cataclysmic, the earth itself trembling under the fury of their clashes.

But for every angel he faced, he grew weaker, his strength draining, his mind fraying. In the end, he did not achieve his goal. The Light was wounded, yes, but not destroyed. The seven angels survived, though they were never the same. And Zarius... Zarius was broken, a shell of his former self, cursed and exiled by his own people for his recklessness. He brought ruin upon the world of Darkness, and the balance, once fragile, was shattered.

Skalf's voice was filled with confusion and frustration. "So... this is why he wanted revenge..." he murmured, his thoughts racing. "Gods I cannot kill? I thought he had a plan, that he knew what he was doing..."

He trailed off, the realization settling in like a heavy weight. The king's desire for vengeance was rooted in the same arrogance that had nearly destroyed the world before. Skalf had believed he was following a calculated, purposeful leader, but now... now, he wasn't so sure. The task before him seemed far more daunting, filled with uncertainty and haunted by the shadows of past mistakes.

Maure watched him closely, her dark eyes studying the turmoil in his heart. "Yes, that is why he seeks revenge. But remember, Skalf, the path of vengeance is fraught with peril. It can consume even the strongest of souls. Zarius learned that the hard way... and so will others if they are not careful."

Skalf's frustration boiled over, his voice rising. "But why choose me? Even our army didn't know he had died!"

Maure sighed deeply, her weariness palpable. "You were chosen because you are strong, but more importantly, because you are still untainted by the darkness that has consumed so many. The king... he sees something in you, something that even you might not fully understand yet. Perhaps he believes that through you, his unfinished work can be completed. Or perhaps... he simply saw in you the potential to succeed where he failed."

She paused, her gaze softening. "But remember this, Skalf: just because you were chosen does not mean you are bound to his fate. You can walk your own path. You can learn from his mistakes, avoid the pitfalls that claimed him. The choices you make now will determine whether you fall into the same darkness that consumed Zarius, or whether you will find a way to rise above it."

Maure's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, as Skalf considered the enormity of the situation he found himself in.

"You seem to have a hatred for him," Skalf remarked, observing the bitterness in Maure's voice.

Maure chuckled, the sound dry and tinged with age-old disdain. "Trust me, Skalf... there are tons of kings I hate. Zarius is just one among many."

She paused, her eyes narrowing as if recalling bitter memories. "Kings and rulers, they all have their grand ambitions, their lofty dreams of power. But more often than not, those dreams turn into nightmares for the rest of us. Zarius wasn't the first to let his arrogance and thirst for power destroy everything around him, and he won't be the last. It's a tale as old as time, repeated over and over, each time with a different fool sitting on the throne."

Maure's gaze met Skalf's again, her expression hard. "That's why I chose to live apart from them, to watch and learn from the shadows. It's why I'm here now, helping you. Because perhaps, just perhaps, there's a chance to break this cycle, to stop the madness before it consumes everything."

Skalf frowned, frustration evident in his voice. "I do not understand... why couldn't he have told me all this?!"

Maure sighed, her gaze distant as if recalling a painful memory. "Zarius was a complicated man, driven by pride and a deep sense of duty. He believed that some things were better left unsaid, that the burden of knowledge could be more dangerous than the darkness itself. He kept many secrets, even from those closest to him, thinking it would protect them—or perhaps he feared they would abandon him if they knew the truth."

She looked at Skalf, her eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and understanding. "He wanted to shield you from the weight of his failures and the harsh reality of his quest. But in doing so, he also left you unprepared. He thought he could handle everything on his own, that he could spare you the pain. But in the end, it only made the burden heavier for you."

Maure's voice softened. "Sometimes, those we follow hide things out of love, or fear, or pride. But that doesn't mean they didn't trust you, Skalf. It just means they were human, flawed like everyone else. Now, it's up to you to pick up the pieces and carry on the mission, armed with the truth he couldn't bring himself to share."

Skalf stood silent as he listened to her words, the weight of her insights settling heavily on his shoulders. Deep down, he knew she was right. Losing the trust of a leader, especially one he had believed in so fiercely, felt like a betrayal, and the revelation stung like a fresh wound.

He took a deep breath, grappling with the mix of emotions swirling within him—anger, confusion, and a lingering sense of loyalty to Zarius. "I just... I thought he was different," Skalf finally said, his voice quiet. "I thought he had a plan, that he knew what he was doing. I didn't expect this... this recklessness."

Maure nodded, her expression understanding. "It's easy to place our faith in others, especially those who project strength and confidence. But strength can often mask weakness. Zarius wanted to be a beacon for his people, to show them that he could take on the darkness alone. In the end, he forgot that true strength lies not in solitude, but in unity."

...

...

Skalf :How am I supposed to kill angels...and avenge a king that lost..."

Maure chuckled softly at Skalf's despair. "Do not worry, my strong knight... this is where my gifts come into play."

Skalf looked up at the crow that had been guiding him. "The first one is this crow," Maure continued.

He carefully extended his hand toward the bird, which hopped onto his arm with a sense of familiarity. Skalf studied the crow closely, admiring its features. "Beautiful dark eyes... elegant black and white plumes..." he murmured to himself. "Hmm..."

He paused, letting the name settle in his mind. "Xepion," he finally decided, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of certainty.

The crow cawed softly, as if acknowledging its new name, and perched comfortably on Skalf's arm. Maure smiled faintly, seeing the bond form between the two. "Xepion will be your eyes and ears in the darkness. He will guide you when you are lost and protect you when danger is near. He is more than just a companion—he is a part of the magic that will help you on your journey."

Skalf nodded, feeling a strange comfort in the presence of the crow. "And the other gifts?" he asked, his curiosity growing.

Maure pulled out the strange purple orb she had been holding earlier, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow. "This," she began, her voice low and serious, "is what will make you stronger."

Skalf eyed the orb with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "What is that...?"

Maure held the orb up to the dim light, its glow casting eerie shadows on the walls. "This orb is one of 3, each imbued with the power of a king. These orbs were created long ago in the depths of the Darkness, forged by ancient magic to grant their owners immense strength—strength that rivals even the gods and angels themselves."

She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in before continuing. "Each orb is guarded by a powerful knight, sworn to protect it from those unworthy of its power. These knights are not like ordinary warriors—they are bound to the Darkness, and their strength is unmatched. To claim an orb, one must defeat its guardian, proving themselves worthy of the power it holds."

Skalf's gaze remained fixed on the orb, his mind racing with the possibilities and dangers it presented. "So, this orb... it could give me the power of a king?"

Maure nodded. "Yes, but with great power comes great responsibility. The orbs are not merely tools—they are also a test. They will amplify the strength, resolve, and darkness within you, but they will also amplify your flaws, your fears, and your rage. To wield an orb's power is to walk a fine line between control and chaos."

She placed the orb in Skalf's hands, its warmth pulsing through his skin. "This is your second gift, Skalf. With it, you will gain the strength you need to face the challenges ahead. But be warned: the power it grants is not easily controlled. It will require every ounce of your will to master it."

Skalf felt the orb's energy coursing through him, a mixture of exhilaration and dread filling his heart. "And the other orbs? Where are they?"

Maure's eyes darkened as she spoke. "The other orbs are hidden deep within the realm of Darkness, each guarded by a knight more formidable than the last. To claim them, you must journey through the darkest corners of this world, facing dangers that would break most men. But if you succeed, you will have the power to change the fate of this world, to challenge the angels themselves... and to avenge the fallen king."

Skalf tightened his grip on the orb, the weight of his new mission heavy on his shoulders. "I understand," he said, determination hardening his voice. "I'll find the other orbs, defeat their guardians, and use their power to finish what Zarius started."

Maure sigh "It seems like is time for me to go..." she said as her voice was slowly getting down.

"Before you go, Skalf, there's one more thing I need to do," Maure said, her tone serious as she held the glowing purple orb between them. "I need to stab the orb into your soul."

Skalf's eyes widened in shock. "Why?" he asked, instinctively taking a step back. The idea of having the orb embedded into his very being was unnerving, to say the least.

Maure's expression softened slightly as she explained. "The orb's power is not something you can simply carry around with you, Skalf. It's not a tool you can wield from the outside. To truly harness its strength, it needs to become a part of you—fused with your soul. This is the only way to unlock its full potential and ensure that it bonds with you completely."

She paused, letting the gravity of her words sink in. "It will be painful, and it will change you in ways you might not expect. But without this, the orb's power will remain dormant, and you won't be able to face the challenges ahead. This is the price of wielding the power of a king."

Skalf thought for a moment, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He knew there was no other way if he wanted to stand a chance against the forces he was about to face. With a heavy sigh, he finally relented. "...Fine."

Maure nodded, understanding the gravity of his choice. She could feel her body beginning to dissolve, the last remnants of her strength fading away. She had little time left, but she remained focused on the task at hand.

Transforming her hand into a demonic one, dark and clawed, she held the orb firmly within it. The purple light pulsed rhythmically, as if it were alive, waiting for the moment it would bond with its new host. "Come," she commanded, her voice steady despite the strain on her fading form.

Skalf stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the energy emanating from the orb, its power both alluring and terrifying. He met Maure's gaze, seeing the resolve in her eyes, and prepared himself for what was to come.

"This will hurt," Maure warned, her voice softer now. "But remember, it's necessary. The power you'll gain from this will be unlike anything you've ever known."

Without hesitation, Maure plunged the orb directly into Skalf's chest. A searing pain shot through him, more intense than anything he had ever felt. The orb's energy surged through his body, intertwining with his very soul. His vision blurred, and for a moment, all he could see was a blinding purple light.

But then, as quickly as it had begun, the pain started to subside. Skalf could feel the orb settling within him, its power becoming one with his essence. His breathing steadied, and he felt a newfound strength coursing through his veins—a strength that came from deep within.

Maure, now nearly fully dissolved, gave him a faint smile. "You did well, Skalf. The power is yours now. Use it wisely... and remember what I've told you."

With those final words, Maure faded away completely, leaving Skalf alone with the lingering warmth of the orb inside him and the daunting mission that lay ahead.

"Goodbye....guardian."

Skalf looked down at the dust that had once been Maure, his expression unreadable, but a heavy emptiness settled within him. He hadn't known much about her—just a witch in a ruined village, a fleeting guide on his path—but the sense of loss lingered, an echo of something unspoken.

Quietly, he murmured to the ashes, "A witch who fought the darkness... only to be consumed by it. In the end, all that's left is the silence of those who tried to help."

Xepion fluttered down, landing softly on Skalf's head, his dark eyes gleaming with quiet understanding. Skalf reached up and gently patted the crow, feeling a strange sense of companionship in the small gesture.

He took a deep breath, the reality of his mission settling in. The first step had been taken, and now, there was no turning back. "I guess it's time for us to take the first orb," he said, his voice steady but tinged with the weight of what lay ahead.

With Xepion perched on his head, Skalf turned his gaze forward, ready to face the unknown dangers that awaited him in the darkness. The journey was just beginning, but he felt a flicker of determination growing within him—a resolve to see this through, no matter the cost.