The Warmth of the Hearth

“Bloody hell mate, it works!” Nieko exclaims excitedly as he looks towards the small crater he made just now with the Maga, now glowing on his right hand. He faces Luke who was being carried by Tyrone, smiling with pride. “You’re a smart one, aren’t ya?”

Luke shakes his head, knowing that all he did was improve the foundations Nieko has laid out. “I really didn’t do much. All I did was come up with an alternative for the limiter.” His eyes fall on the gauntlet equipped on Nieko’s hands, a large gathering of manna within it. “How did you think of this?”

Nieko takes the gauntlet off, resting it on the tree stump beside the lamp they took from Souyer in case they won’t be home by nightfall. “My old man was a craftsman.” He pauses, smiling from the memories of his parents. “He always taught me some bits of his job, and it carried over.” His smile now fades into an expression of longing, knowing that he will never see them again.

Luke sees this and decides to change the subject. “Want to head back? Tyrone’s proba---” Luke gets cut off by the violent shaking of the ground, causing Tyrone to lose balance. He goes sprawling on the forest floor below, followed by a loud thud caused from Tyrone’s fall.

A web of cracks appears on the ground beneath them, growing bigger with each passing moment. Shit! Luke pushes himself up, looking at Nieko who looked just as confused. “Nieko, watch your step!” As he says this, a huge crack appears between Nieko’s feet, swallowing him whole. Luke rushes to Nieko, who was now dangling on the ledge. He pulls him up and they both fall on the ground.

The shaking stops and silence ensues. The two sit still, their breaths heavy from the sudden event. Nieko speaks, his eyes wide from the terrifying experience he had just gone through. “What the bloody hell was that?”

“I have no idea.” Luke picks himself up and checks to see whether the Maga was still intact. On the floor in front of him, shards from the broken lamp are scattered. Luke’s eyes fall on the Maga, perfectly safe on the grass. He picks it up and hands it to Nieko who was now standing beside him.

Nieko doesn’t take it however and was instead looking wide-eyed in the distance. Luke sees this, confused by Nieko’s strange behavior. Nieko points towards what he was looking at and Luke’s eyes follow. His heart drops with what he saw as an overwhelming wave of confusion hits him.

In front of them, beyond the forest, the same buildings that Luke had once lived in were now visible in the distance. At the top, the capital’s white structure could be seen, overshadowed by dark purple clouds. The Mur has disappeared, leaving the center of Ezicion completely vulnerable. Luke grabs Nieko, making him come to his senses. “We need to get to Olin.”

Kayden Blaise drops to his knees, his body in shambles after the recent fight. In front of him, dozens of his soldiers lie still on the marble staircase leading to the throne room. There were fragments of battle scattered throughout the vicinity of the capital, casualties from both sides. The capital has fallen, and its warriors along with it. Loft stands in front of him, a tall auburn haired man surrounded by black smoke stands beside her. “Kayden Blaise, you are no fool.” She speaks as Kayden tries his best to not lose consciousness. “Join me in my cause, I would hate to see a man like you thrown away by people like them.” She points to the Royal Family now tied up behind him; their robes now tattered from the sudden onslaught.

The King shouts at Kayden, desperation in his eyes. “You good for nothing imbecile! I didn’t pay you to lose to a wench!” His voice gets louder as veins start appearing on his plump neck, his eyes red as he strains. “I am the King! I am Ezicion itself! You shall all bow down before me!” His family joins him as well, his two young children spewing curses that they should not have knowledge of for their age.

Kayden winces, his pride shattered at his failure. He watches Loft approach him, a blade in her hand. She makes him face her, the touch of the steel cold on his chin. “What do you say, Kayden Blaise?” Kayden does not respond to her offer, and instead speaks the vow he will never choose to break. “I am the sword of the crown! The shield of Ezicion! Those who oppose the country oppose me, and they shall burn for their insolence!”

A burst of manna explodes from him, causing Loft to take a step back. His eyes now glowed a burning crimson and lava erupts from the ground behind him. In his hands, he holds a spear of molten rock, increasing in length as he prepares for one last stand. “For Ezicion.”

Loft sees this, saddened by the needless spilling of blood yet again. “Very well, may you find rest in Eredell, Kayden Blaise.” She nods to Kein beside her, who promptly springs into action. She watches Kayden’s struggle, a dance of darkness and light with movements that were nothing more than flickers. For one who was injured, Blaise was certainly no easy opponent. However, there is a fumble in Kayden’s step, a mistake that Kein takes advantage of. His hand pierces Kayden, a shower of red and purple. The most powerful Agni mage of Ezicion, the famed blade of the king, was no more. Kayden Blaise falls to the ground, the crimson glow now absent from his lifeless eyes. Loft kneels beside his body and runs her hand over his eyes, closing them so he may seem as if he was asleep. “Farewell, Kayden Blaise.”