Night troubles 4

"You don't count on the weather favoring you, or for continents to form overnight. It exists, but it is not a process you can predict, or rely on. It is better to kill them." The answer was as sharp as Ellianor expected.

Things were never that easy. "How many planets did that corruption destroy?" Orange eyes met magenta eyes again.

A silent plea for hope, to see that the corruption was not as big of a problem as it appeared to be.

Sadly, Muriel broke eye contact, he looked down, his face solemn and mournful. It was all the answer Ellianor required. 'Too many… too many to count, then?'

A quantity so massive that there was no reason to count anymore, just mourn and think of a better future. His stomach was in knots. "What is beyond the corruption? You are called Heresy Wardens. I think…"

There was no need to finish that phrase. It already told what it needed to. That there were more monsters out there, more anomalies beyond corruption.

"Strange artifacts, magical artifacts, star phenomena, and much, much more to count." Muriel sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand.

"Some of us contain those threats. Others argue with them and place them in quarantine."

A singular moment of silence lasted, yet the atmosphere changed completely. Ellianor felt a hand choke the breath out of his lungs, the atmosphere painted red, all for one second.

His body was sweat cold, his eyes felt like they would pop out of his skull, the water in his body boiling, a pressure pushed him down in an attempt to crush all of his limbs. The form of Muriel was twisted.

His blade looked longer, and curved, many eyes spread across it, the eyes were on him, as flesh tumors ruptured through the sword's body, a fleshy mouth on the flat of the blade smiled twistedly at him, as wrong and uncanny magenta eyes stared deep in his soul.

Despite the crushing pressure, Ellianor's body refused to bulge, his knees rock solid as the blade started to morph into something else.

Its cancerous growths take on the form of a scythe of flesh, bone, and blood.

Muriel's form was corrupted as well, a creature so horrible that it made the abominations and the shade demon look like playthings.

Ellianor's heart crawled to his ears, each beating sending a painful, maddening pulsation through it in a buzz.

His organs thrashed inside his chest as if they were rocked by an invisible hand inside him. 

"I destroy them, destroy them so they can hurt no one else." The second passed, and the sensation vanished.

Instinctively, Ellianor held his neck, panting. He breathed hard, his body coated in sweat, his eyes widened in shock.

He looked at Muriel multiple times, but nothing was amiss. His blade was normal, and so was his appearance.

Nothing of the maddening atmosphere, the blood-red air, or the cancerous growth on the sword.

All was normal, but if all was normal, what had Ellianor just watched? The black-haired man moved a hand over his heart, panting heavily, his body still sweating despite the evil apparition being gone.

Muriel waited for him to recover his breath, and mind before continuing. "Since you are one of us, you will be forced to make that choice one day."

"The choice to destroy, the choice to protect, to guard, hide or quarantine. It is not an easy choice, to build up your mind until then." Muriel sounded genuinely concerned and almost caring.

Something told Ellianor that the hole was deeper, way deeper than his eyes could see.

'That aura is not normal. Far from it.' He was sure of what he saw. The vision he had was too real, too palpable to be a trick of his mind.

It was like what he saw in cartoons and animes long ago. Killing intent, but it could not be summarized as that. 'What makes you like that?'

What choice was so heavy that would make you end that way? With that type of aura? While his life was not as long as those beings that could live eons, Ellianor considered himself well-lived by the standards of a twenty-three-year-old.

Yet his mind failed to produce any scenario that would transform someone into that. That would change someone into that horrific vision. "That choice won't be reversed, ever. You will know when it comes to that."

Muriel returned his gaze to the deep void as his junior tried to regain his bearings.

"We are thirty now, but you won't see more than fifteen gathered in one place." Ellianor crooked his head to the side in confusion.

"That is because most of us have our demons, and problems to deal with. Most carry the sins of another life, while others deal with the ones brought by being a warden." Ellianor nodded, his vision focusing, as his breath recovered.

"Respect their boundaries, and don't talk to anyone unprompted, minus your friend. Myself, Yuri, and Nidhogghir." Ellianor had to wonder why was that. He was sure Sylas was friendly…

Muriel awaited for Ellianor to answer the question.

Avoiding answering it on purpose, as his gaze rested on the black-haired man. It was deliberate on his part. 'You will force me to question it…?'

He sighed. "So… why? I have seen Sylas. He was friendly… So was Yuri, and Nidhogghir." Muriel giggled to himself, his gaze once again taking a sharp turn.

"Yuri and Nidhogghir are open books, and I don't care about being bothered by others. Urien is always on his missions for "lack of time". Sylas…" Magenta eyes narrowed, thoughtful for a moment.

"He is an extrovert, but he can't love anything but his objectives, his mission, and machines. You are not nearly mechanical enough to warrant his more caring side." Ellianor clenched his teeth.

He knew that type of person, from way back in his high school days. Always nice to others, but they couldn't give a crap if you died, or if you were alright. 'Nice doesn't mean good, or kind.' 

"Don't let my words skew your worldviews. You may prove me wrong."