222 years into the Age of Alliances, Eastern Nation

The moon beamed its light down upon the Eastern Nation of Darune, illuminating the grasslands to the Northwest and the high plateau of the snowy Weeping Woods to the Southeast. Darune’s outer wall protected the dense population of humans, elves, dwarves, and fymphs, reaching all the way to the face of the plateau. All appeared peaceful, but aimless ones darkened the doors of local taverns or trudged home from one. And still, others lurked in the shadows. Some were predators. Some were prey.

In a dark alleyway, a hooded figure stood, armed with a sword. A blue crystal glowing on the person’s belt illuminated a trail of bodies. The ground below the dead was covered in ice mingled with their blood. A hand raised from beneath the figure’s cloak, waving away the ice into thin air. The blue crystal went dim as a calm settled over the area. From the darker end of the alley, another silhouette dashed from the shadows, drawing a sword, and cried out, “You’ll pay for this!”

The cloaked figure turned abruptly toward the newcomer and the sound of charging footsteps, causing a tendril of long, soft hair to appear from under her hood. The purple crystal latched in her glove went aglow. A chain of purple crystals materialized, attaching to the glove and to the owner’s sword. The hand carrying the weapon unleashed a fierce gust of purple wind, causing the double-edged sword to soar through the air at the incoming attacker. The enemy’s sword became cocooned with green wind, its light displacing the darkness to reveal his elvan face. He deflected the hooded figure’s attack with his sword and readied to thrust it through his enemy. But before he could, a chaotic, purple wind assailed him, whipping around his body. A foreign presence invaded his thoughts, bringing him to a standstill as his mind became a clamor of ghostly whispers and thoughts. The elf cried out, the pressure inside his head increasing so much, he thought it would burst.

A second hooded figure stepped out from the shadows, and the dark form of a great sword swung down from over his head. Indigo light outlined the sword’s blade, splitting it into sections. The segments separated, connected by luminous purple chain links. The sword was now a long-bladed whip that lashed down at the elf. He crumbled under the weapon’s impact and fell silent to the ground. The owner of the whip neared the fallen elf, and the purple chain retracted the blades, which took the form of a great sword once again.

“That was close, Envy,” said the sword-wielding silhouette. “You’re so weak! I don’t know why Lust agreed to train you.”

“Easy, Strife. Easy,” interrupted a woman standing in the nearby shadows.

“I told you, Lust, my name is Discord!” the man retorted.

The darkness was slightly dispelled by the purple light emanating from a crystal. It belonged to a middle-aged woman whose pale face was a beautiful accent to her flowing, vibrant red hair. Lust approached Envy and Strife, looking over their handiwork. “Soon, my son. Soon. It won’t be long until you’re part of the Order.”

“Meanwhile, they allow a woman weakling like this into their ranks.” Strife gritted his teeth, uncovering his spiky silver hair in frustration.

“Envy is not weak. She just got too relaxed and let her guard down. I hope you’ve learned a lesson here.”

From behind a corner, a man cried out as he charged in, wielding a pair of swords. He closed in on Lust’s backside, sliding one of his sword blades over the other and readying to plunge them into the woman’s back.

Lust turned sharply, and the crystal latched in her glove glowed. She swung her arm at her attacker. A long, purple crystal chain materialized, attached to her glove, whipping through the air and wrapping itself around the man. She pulled on the chain, grinning evilly as she caused him to trip and fall. His body appeared weightless as it peeled into purple ashes and fell into a heap of smoke upon the ground. Snapping back around, she made eye contact with Envy. “Always stay on your guard.”

“I understand, Lust.” Envy slightly bowed to her. “I’ll do better!”

“I should hope so,” added Lust. “Next time, it may cost you your life, which I’m sure Greed would not be pleased with. He has…plans for you.” Lust glanced around the carnage, and then off into the distance beyond the alleyway at a local tavern. “I want you two to get this mess cleaned up. You know what to do.”

“With pleasure,” said Strife, taking a purple crystal from his pocket and reaching out a hand. As he concentrated, purple wind began to flow over one of the fallen on the ground. The body evaporated into smoke, carried by the streams of wind, and absorbed into the crystal. “Ah, my power grows…” the man mused with a smirk.

Envy watched with a hint of wonder and then followed suit.

Lust gave them an approving nod as the two got to work. “I’ll be back shortly,” she said, clenching her fist as she gazed again upon the distant tavern. “The dead here were no doubt my target’s protection. Now I must finish up the last loose end…to complete my revenge.”

Strife gave Lust a cool look. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Not to worry, son. His power is, at best, feeble, and no match for mine,” assured Lust. She grabbed a medium-sized sack hanging from her belt and held it up before her. “Besides, he’s a desperate coward and won’t leave the tavern without this delivery of shade. He needs it to escape Darune undetected, but little does he know…he made a deal with death.”

Lust walked quietly and quickly through the streets, attentive to her surroundings and careful to keep herself covered by her large, hooded cloak. As she approached the tavern she had been observing from the alley, she checked every few moments that she wasn’t being followed. She discreetly entered the tavern, which had a six-sided star hanging above its frame, and closed the heavy, wooden door behind her. I’m in! She sighed with relief, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at her.

The tavern was alive with late-night patrons boisterously conversing at their tables. The air was comfortably warm from a fiery hearth and carried the scent of the frothy drinks everyone was enjoying. Amid the buzzing social atmosphere, only a few observed the cloaked newcomer but quickly lost interest as they were drawn back to their conversations or food and drink. Lust casually walked along the perimeter of the tables, staying close to the walls, before climbing up a set of creaky wooden stairs.

Upon reaching the second floor, Lust looked down a dimly candle lit hallway. She stepped cautiously, counting the number of doors on the right side, and approached the sixth one. She lightly tapped the door with a code and upon hearing the door unlock, she waited a few moments. Her heart pounded in nervous expectation. At last, I will finish what Shoveland started so long ago. She slipped through the door without a sound and locked it behind her. She found herself inside a dark room with only a tiny beam of moonlight seeping through the drawn curtains above a bed. The faint light illuminated the silhouette of a man with wavy, blond hair. He stood near the bed, a loaded crossbow gripped tightly in his trembling hands.  

“You’re a few minutes late,” the man said, his tone almost accusatory. “Nonetheless, you’re here. Do you have the agreed upon asset?”

Lust held up the medium-sized sack in her hand. “It’s here.”

“Put it on the bed, slowly,” commanded the man. “Open it so the light illuminates what is inside. No sudden movements, or my arrow will find a comfortable place through your skull.” The arrow’s crystal tip went aglow with green light, and the woman knew that if she made any missteps, she would pay with her life. 

Lust calmly laid the sack on the bed, opening it to allow the trickle of light from the window to reveal the green, sandy material inside.

“Very good,” said the man. From his belt, he snatched a pouch that jingled with the sound of coins and tossed it onto the bed. “Now, take what’s yours and be gone before my trigger finger becomes unstable.”

Claiming the sack of money, Lust carefully started for the door. Before she made it out of the room, however, the pouch of coins fell from her hand, its contents spilling onto the floor.

“Clumsy fool!” the man barked, glaring down upon the money on the floor. When he gazed back up, a dim, purple light illuminated the figure near the door. The glowing light exposed her leather and cloth clothing and red hair. The man became enraptured by her beauty, almost hypnotized by her presence. “My...such beauty,” said the man. With each breath, he felt more taken by her.

“Help me with the coins, dear sir, and I will be on my way,” Lust cooed.

“An-anything for you,” the man stuttered. He laid his crossbow onto the bed and reached for the money on the floor.

“Justinus Barlow,” Lust growled. “A has-been dark market arms dealer who, at one time, was a happily married father of three. That is, until they were all tragically murdered.”

Justinus froze, but his hands trembled with anger. “How do you know my name? That was never part of the deal. I was to remain anonymous!” He eyed his crossbow and darted for it. The weapon was almost in his grasp when he felt himself being restrained. He crashed to the floor, his body wrapped by a glowing purple chain.

Lust pulled on it, dragging the man across the floor, and pressed one of her boots upon his chest. “You forfeited that right after you stole from me.”

“St-stole from you!? Who are you!?” cried Justinus as he fought against the chains that bound him. The more he fought, the weaker he became as he felt his energy being drained.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself,” the woman laughed, pulling the chains taut. A small purple crystal rose from her cloak pocket, carried by a gust of purple wind. The crystal stopped before Justinus and, using her imagination, Lust revealed visions of days past from her memories. The man stopped struggling as he gazed upon the images that flooded his mind.

“Do you see me in the visions, Justinus?” asked Lust. She tugged fiercely on the chains when he didn’t answer. “Answer me!”

“Yes…yes!” the man yelped.

“Keep watching, I’m sure you won’t want to miss any of the action. It was a grand night for you and your friends!”

He watched Lust’s memories with wide eyes, feeling as though the air was being stolen from his lungs. Justinus trembled as the visions ended and the crystal went dim. “Impossible,” he said, “that was you that night?”

The woman pulled on the chains, their glow becoming brighter as they siphoned Justinus’s strength from him.

Her victim gasped weakly. “Please don’t kill me!” pleaded the man. “Haven’t I suffered enough already with the loss of everything I held dear!?”

“Your loss?” scoffed the woman. “Your loss came about by your own actions and those you dealt with. But as for suffering…you weren’t concerned with my suffering the night you took everything from me…were you!? I was young with dreams! But you…and the others…you humbled me…you ruined me!” The purple crystal floating near the man lit up once again. “But now, I’ve got something that will help me regain my lost dreams.”

A dark mist materialized in the room, blocking out all light except that which radiated from the crystal and chains. As the darkness thickened, Justinus choked, struggling for air as his cries morphed into strangled coughs.

“I am Lust,” said the woman, appearing like a dark, silhouetted phantom through the murky mist. “If I know your desire, I can use it to your demise. Unfortunately for you, coward, I knew yours all too well.”

The man’s struggle went unheard. The patrons in the tavern below were oblivious to Justinus’s silent screams before his life came to an end. All that was found of him was a pile of ashes.