The Dawn of Malice

The Calm before a Storm

Caerus awoke in a cozy room, the soft glow of warm lights illuminating the space. He felt a sense of wonder as he took in the modern technology that surrounded him. The chill of winter seemed non-existent within these walls, thanks to the advanced crystal heating system. A crystal filled with fire magic heated a row of thin metal plates giving the room a pleasant ambient temperature, far from what Caerus had ever seen.

As he stepped out of his room, he was greeted by the familiar knock on the door. Ryker’s amused voice called out, “Caerus, you’re going to enjoy breakfast for once!”

Caerus opened the door to find his friend with a grin on his face, clearly amused by Caerus’s awe at the modern comforts. “I’m glad you like the room,” Ryker said, patting Caerus on the back. “Wait till you see the kitchen!”

They made their way downstairs, and Caerus was once again taken aback by the sights around him. The living area was filled with copper pipes and tubing all connected to cutting-edge inventions and machines, each one a testament to the brilliance of Serendell’s engineers. He spotted Ximena in the kitchen, busy preparing a pot of coffee, the machine humming as steam billowed out of its exhaust port. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she saw Caerus and Ryker.

“Good morning!” Ximena greeted them cheerfully. “I hope you slept well. Coffee?”

Caerus nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and unease. “Yes, please. Thank you, Ximena.”

Ryker busied himself with the skillet, cooking up some bacon and eggs. The sizzling sound filled the air as the aroma of the delicious meal wafted through the room. Despite the warmth of the surroundings, Caerus couldn’t shake off a feeling of unease that had settled in him.

As they sat down to eat, there was a moment of silence that hung in the air. Caerus could sense that both Ryker and Ximena were holding something back, but he didn’t want to pry. He knew that they had their reasons for keeping certain things hidden.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Caerus finally spoke up. “So, what’s the plan now? Do we have any leads on finding Lucian or dealing with the Laresian threat?”

Ryker exchanged a glance with Ximena before replying, “We’re still gathering information. Serendell is a hub of knowledge and technology, so we might find some valuable clues here. And don’t worry, Caerus, we’ll figure this out together.”

Caerus appreciated the reassurance, but the weight of their mission still weighed heavily on his mind. He knew they couldn’t afford to stay idle for long, especially with the Laresian army on the move.

As they finished their meal, Caerus couldn’t help but wonder what lay ahead for them in this city of wonders. He hoped that they would find the answers they sought and that their journey would lead them to the truth they needed to face the challenges ahead.

“For tonight though,” Ryker said after a moment of silence, “we’ll paint this dreary copper town a bright red.”

Ximena gave Ryker a smile while Caerus felt a small current of electricity run down his smile. He knew that kind of smile, a smile of mischievous schemes and a fun night.

A few hours later when Caerus understood what Ximena’s and Ryker’s smile was about.

The night air was crisp and cool as Caerus, Ryker, and Ximena stepped out of another nondescript bar. Laughter and the lingering notes of lively music still echoed in their ears, a perfect ending to a day filled with new experiences and adventures in the technologically advanced city.

As they pushed open the heavy wooden doors, the world seemed to sway slightly, a testament to the evening’s indulgences. Caerus chuckled softly to himself, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. The trio had managed to unwind and enjoy themselves in this bustling city of marvels, and the weight of their recent challenges had momentarily lifted.

However, as Caerus stepped onto the cobblestone street, his senses heightened. A flicker of movement caught his attention, and he turned his gaze to a figure shrouded in a dark trench coat, standing at a distance. The stranger’s eyes were fixed on them, an unsettling intensity that sent a shiver down Caerus’s spine.

He exchanged a glance with Ryker and Ximena, who seemed equally on edge. Caerus’s mind raced, trying to assess the situation. Had they attracted unwanted attention? Was this city not as safe as they had initially thought?

As the trio made their way toward Ximena’s waiting vehicle, a sudden, sharp sound cut through the air. Caerus’s heart raced as he watched a whip-like sword strike the hood of the car with a resounding clang. The force of the impact reverberated through the metal, causing Ryker to stumble and fall on his backside.

Caerus’s instincts kicked in, lifeblood surged in his veins and the effects of the alcohol subsided. He immediately reached for the hilt of his sword, his now glowing eyes narrowing as he scanned their surroundings. The assailant jumped down from the shadows of the building’s roofs – a figure clad in dark attire that seemed to blend seamlessly with the night.

Ximena’s voice cut through the tension, her tone a mixture of surprise and indignation. “You ruined my car’s paint!”

The assailant’s lips curled into a sinister smile, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. Ryker noticed that in his hand was his billhook, immediately understanding their dire situation. Caerus’s grip tightened on his sword, his muscles tensed and ready for action.

Ryker, recovering from his stumble, scrambled to his feet, and joined Ximena’s side, her eyes fixed on the stranger. “This doesn’t seem like a friendly encounter, Ximena.”

Ximena nodded, his voice a low growl. “Stay alert. We don’t know what this person wants.”

As the seconds ticked by, a tense standoff ensued. The assailant’s gaze seemed to linger on each of them, a calculated assessment of their strengths and vulnerabilities. Caerus’s mind raced his thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and strategies.

Caerus’s voice, laced with a hint of annoyance, broke the silence. “Are we going to exchange pleasantries, or do you intend to explain yourself?”

The stranger’s laughter echoed in the night, a chilling sound that sent a shiver down Caerus’s spine. “Ah, I see why those two failed in Verdania, you are as spirited as I’ve heard. Very well, then. Let’s play a little game, shall we?”

Before Caerus could react, the assailant lunged forward, his whip-like sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. Caerus’s training kicked in, and he managed to deflect the attack, his sword clashing against the stranger’s weapon in a shower of sparks.

The clash of steel echoed through the night, a symphony of danger and intrigue. Caerus’s heart raced as he charged forward, his opponent’s whip-like sword slicing through the air with deadly intent. Adrenaline surged through Caerus’s veins – his senses sharpened as he focused on the dance of steel before him.

The stranger moved with almost supernatural grace, his trench coat billowing as he lunged and twisted, his weapon seeking to find its mark. Beneath his darkened visage lies the unmistakable glow of Laresian eyes. Caerus’s own eyes responded instinctively, glowing with the same intensity, darting all over his enemy searching for a gap between the whip’s lashes.

Caerus’s sword became an extension of himself as he deflected each strike with precision and determination. The clash of metal against metal rang out, a symphony of danger that echoed through the alley.

Beside him, Ximena sprang into action, her gloved hand was actually a weapon on its own, loaded, and ready. Above her hand was a compact, rectangular shaped metal box and small barrel, blasting the alleyway with light with every shot. The sharp crack of gunfire split the air as she fired a series of shots, each bullet whizzing dangerously close to their opponent. The distraction worked, as the assailant was forced to alter his attacks, giving Caerus a split-second advantage. But with every five shots from her pistol glove, Ximena would reload, giving their assailant time to retaliate.

As another set of five small cylindrical canisters fell from Ximena’s gloves, she was forced to duck down and reload. Ryker had not remained idle. His resourceful mind had quickly assessed the situation, and he had grabbed a broken pipe from the ground. With a swift and fluid motion, he caught the whip sword’s manic swipes, as they attempted to strike at Ximena, the metal clashing against the makeshift weapon. Ryker’s expression was one of fierce determination, his eyes locked onto their opponent.

“This is hardly a fair fight.” The Laresian laughed. “Here!”

Ryker’s billhook came flying towards his head. The Laresian had managed to throw the billhook through the gaps in his own whip sword’s manic swings. The red-eyed enemy grinned sinisterly as Ryker moved to catch the weapon. But as he reached up to grab the weapon, their assailant’s whip sword flung toward his outstretched arm. Caerus was luckily close enough to block the weapon from ripping into Ryker’s flesh and bone.

“Thanks!” Ryker shouted out, Caerus nodded in response, and together the two faced their enemy.

Caerus and Ryker worked in tandem, their movements complementary as they pressed their advantage. Ximena’s gunfire continued to punctuate the fight, a relentless assault that kept the stranger on his toes. Caerus seized the opportunity, his blade moving with calculated speed as he launched a series of rapid slashes. The stranger’s movements became more defensive, his whip sword now desperately parrying Caerus’s onslaught. With each clash, Caerus could feel the strain in his muscles, the weight of the battle wearing on him. But he could feel the tide of battle shifting, their opponent becoming increasingly desperate as they struggled to maintain their ground.

As the moments stretched on, Caerus’s breaths came in ragged gasps, his muscles aching from the exertion. But he pushed through the pain, his focus unwavering as he continued to engage in the deadly dance of combat. The clang of metal, the sharp crack of gunfire, and the resolute determination of his companions filled the air, creating a symphony of chaos and determination.

The speed with which the whip sword flew was unimaginable, Caerus could barely tell where the whip blade was aiming at. Through the gaps in their assailant’s attacks, Caerus could see the Laresian was struck with a bout of blood psychosis as the night air was filled with murderous laughter. Tears of blood ran down their assailant’s cheek as his eyes began to have a black ring of veins, and his hair and eyes glowed like an uncontrollable blaze.

Caerus’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched in horror, his breath catching in his throat, as their opponent’s whip sword lashed out with terrifying precision. The dimly lit alleyway was suddenly transformed into a scene of nightmarish chaos. The deadly weapon wrapped itself around Ximena’s legs and squeezed. With a wet sickening tear, the Laresian assassin pulled his whip sword back severing Ximena’s right leg. Ximena screamed like a banshee as she fell to the ground, clutching at the stump that remained on her leg. Blood pooled around her as she was quickly losing blood.

“NO!” Ryker screamed, pushing his attack, forcing his opponent to focus on him.

Time seemed to slow as Caerus’s mind raced, his instincts screaming at him to act. Anger surged within him, a burning fury that ignited his determination. He charged forward without a second thought, his sword held high, intent on avenging Ximena’s brutal injury.

But their opponent was no ordinary adversary. In a fluid and almost graceful movement, the whip sword shifted, its coiled length twisting and turning with unnatural speed. Caerus’s blade met the whip sword mid-swing, the impact sending a jarring shockwave through his arms. He gritted his teeth, muscles straining against the force, as he tried to overpower their enemy.

A chilling, mocking laughter echoed in the alley as their opponent effortlessly deflected Caerus’s attack. The sound sent a shiver down Caerus’s spine, a stark reminder of the danger they were facing. He could feel the weight of his father’s blade in his hands, a connection to his past, and a symbol to protect those he cared about.

“Caerus! I need to stop the bleeding.” Ryker’s panicked voice pierced the chaos as he rushed to Ximena’s side, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood from her injured limb. His billhook fell to the ground with a resounding clang.

Caerus’s gaze flickered to his injured friend, a surge of helplessness and anger welling up within him. He couldn’t let their enemy go unpunished for this senseless act of violence.

“I’ll handle this, get to a safe distance!”

With a primal roar, Caerus pushed against the whip sword with all his might, his muscles trembling with effort. But their opponent’s strength was formidable, the whip sword coiling and twisting like a living creature, thwarting his every attempt to break free. Caerus’s knuckles turned white as he held onto his sword, determination etched into his features.

Suddenly, a sickening snap resonated through the air as their enemy’s whip sword abruptly shifted direction. Caerus’s heart sank as he watched his father’s blade break in half, the sound a harsh reminder of the brutal reality of their situation. Anguish and frustration surged within him, a fierce determination burning in his eyes.

Caerus met his opponent’s gaze, his breath heavy and labored, his chest heaving with exertion. As his eyes locked onto the menacing figure before him, he knew that this was a fight for survival, a battle that he couldn’t afford to lose. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body aching from the previous clashes, but his resolve burned brighter than ever.

With a swift and fluid motion, Caerus reached for the final weapon in his arsenal—the Laresian dagger wrapped in the hungry cloth. His fingers closed around the hilt, and a shiver ran down his spine as he felt the cloth seemingly meld into his palm. It was a sensation unlike any other as if the blade itself hungered for the blood it was about to spill.

As Caerus drew the dagger from its sheath, a grim satisfaction settled over him. The cloth seemed to dissolve into his skin, sending a thrill of power coursing through his veins. He spared a moment to glance down at his hands, the palm of his hand seemingly one with the hilt of the dagger. A cold smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he sliced his other hand, offering his blood to the blade in exchange for its deadly sharpness.

The air crackled with tension as Caerus faced his opponent, his grip on the dagger unwavering. Their eyes locked, and a flicker of surprise crossed the assailant’s face as they witnessed Caerus’s transformation. The grin that stretched across the Laresian’s lips sent a shiver down Caerus’s spine, but he refused to falter.

With a surge of energy, Caerus charged forward, his movements fueled by a potent mix of adrenaline, determination, and lifeblood. He could feel the veins around his head pulse as the effects of Lifeblood exertion settled in, and his skull squeezed and expanded simultaneously with pain. But he moved faster than he ever had before, his leg muscles coiled and ready to strike, his eyes now seeing every swipe that the whip sword made.

Tensing his muscles, Caerus swiped the dagger through the air, his movements a blur of calculated precision. He could hear the whistle of the blade as it cut through the air, aimed directly at his opponent’s vulnerable points. Time seemed to slow as the dagger closed the distance between them, and Caerus’s heart raced with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

The assailant’s grin widened, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he met Caerus’s attack head-on. His weapon, lashed out in a complex dance of defensive maneuvers, attempting to deflect Caerus’s strikes. The clash of steel against steel resonated through the alleyway, a symphony of danger and desperation.

Caerus’s mind was a whirlwind of focus, his every instinct homed in on the battle before him. He moved with a fluidity that he had never experienced, his body responding to the rhythm of the fight. Every strike, every parry, was a calculated dance of life and death.

As the battle raged on, Caerus’s determination burned brighter than ever. He could feel the dagger in his hand, its blade imbued with the power of his blood, as it cut through the air with deadly precision. With each movement, he felt a surge of strength and purpose, a reminder that he was fighting not just for himself, but for his friends, and everything he held dear. As the fight continued, Caerus could see the glimmer of uncertainty in his opponent’s eyes, a crack in their confident facade.

Caerus could feel a cold emotionless laughter emerge from his lips as his movements grew even faster, his strikes more relentless, his determination unyielding. Blood psychosis felt imminent as he pressed forward, his dagger a blur of motion, until finally, he saw his opening. With a final, powerful swipe, he aimed for his opponent’s wrist, the blade of his dagger slicing through the air with unparalleled precision.

The alleyway was filled with the sound of steel meeting flesh, and Caerus’s heart skipped a beat as he watched his opponent’s whip sword clatter to the ground. The assailant’s eyes widened in shock, and in that moment of vulnerability, Caerus seized his opportunity. With a swift, calculated movement, he disarmed his opponent, sending the whip sword skittering across the cobblestones. The stranger stumbled back, his trench coat billowing around him as he retreated, a mixture of frustration and surprise evident on his face.

“Until next time,” The Laresian said “Our dear sweet prince.”

Caerus felt a chill run down his spine. His chest heaved as he lowered his sword, his heart still racing from the intense battle. He exchanged a glance with Ryker and Ximena, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and triumph. And as he turned to look at the assassin, he had vanished.

In the pale light of the early morning, Caerus’s heart weighed heavy as he and Ryker carried Ximena’s limp form into a clandestine clinic, that she had commanded them to go to before falling unconscious. Panic surged within Caerus, his mind racing as he looked at his friend’s pale face and the blood-soaked bandages that barely held the life within her. Nurses hurried to their aid, their faces a mix of concern and urgency.

With gentle yet swift movements, the nurses took over, guiding Caerus and Ryker to a nearby examination table. Caerus’s heart hammered in his chest as he watched them work, their skilled hands moving with precision as they assessed Ximena’s injuries. Ryker stood by, his expression a mix of worry and fear, mirroring Caerus’s own emotions.

The room seemed to close in around Caerus as he watched the nurses tend to Ximena’s wound. The sight of her blood staining the pristine white bandages sent a shiver down his spine. He felt a heavy weight of guilt settle over him, his mind replaying the events of the previous night, the fight in the alleyway that had led to this moment.

As the nurses worked, Caerus’s gaze remained fixed on Ximena’s face. Her features were pale and drawn, and despite the pain etched across her expression, she managed to muster a weak smile. Caerus’s heart ached at the sight, knowing the pain she must be enduring both physically and emotionally.

The nurses’ movements were swift and efficient as they prepared to cauterize the stump of her leg. Caerus clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he fought to keep his composure. He could only imagine the agony Ximena was about to experience, and the thought made his stomach churn.

The searing smell of burning flesh filled the air as the nurses cauterized the wound, and Ximena’s body tensed in response, she foamed at the mouth and a nurse had to tie a thick coil of cloth in her mouth to keep her from swallowing her tongue. Caerus could see the pain etched across her features, her fingers gripping the edge of the examination table. He wanted to reach out, to offer some semblance of comfort, but he felt utterly helpless in the face of her suffering.

When the procedure was finally complete, Ximena’s breathing was ragged, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead. The nurses stepped back, their faces filled with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Caerus felt a surge of gratitude toward them, knowing that their skills had saved Ximena’s life.

But even as the immediate danger had passed, Caerus couldn’t shake the heaviness in his heart. He watched as Ximena’s aquamarine eyes met his, and despite the pain and exhaustion, there was a glimmer of something deeper within them. He saw the weight of her new reality settling in, the realization of what had been taken from her.

Ximena managed another weak smile, a brave facade that couldn’t quite mask the devastation in her gaze. Caerus stepped closer, his heart aching as he looked down at his friend. He wanted to say something, anything to offer her comfort, but his words felt inadequate in the face of such a life-altering tragedy.

As Ximena’s gaze held his, Caerus found himself at a loss. He wished he could erase her pain, turn back time, and undo the events that had led them to this point. But he knew that was impossible. All he could do was stand by her side, offering his unwavering support in whatever way he could.