Born from the sacrifice of celestials,
Blood, flesh and breath,
Water, Earth and Air,
Love and Tears,
Radiance and Darkness,
Pieces of Soul,
Spread to every corner of the Cosmos,
Locked in slumber,
Dream in relics,
And the wise call them,
The burden on his shoulders was too heavy, as the young man fell to his knees.
It was over. Hope was as barren as the land he kneeled on. Everything was on the verge of being consumed by darkness. On that day, he knew, the hero shall fall.
The thoughts haunted Rignil, the young man who was praised as The Chosen Dragon Slaying Knight. All of those glorious commendations were nothing at the face of true horror. Everything was mere dust before the storm of terror unleashed by Rahnuc, The Dragon Demon King.
Under the roof of neverending overcast, thunders and mighty vortex grumbled as they accompanied the desperate shrieking of mortals. There was nothing left that can be done by Rignil. The young hero was leaning on his sword, as every drop of strength and courage seeped away.
The only thing left was mere regret, painful stabs straight at the core of his being everytime painful cries were heard. The last of his strength was channeled to vent out his anger by pummeling the dry ground in vain.
He was the hero.
He was the one that should help those in need.
The one that could save the world.
The one, to stop Rahnuc.
However, that time… he was a mere powerless mortal.
The hero ignored a faint calling among a horrifying sreechof slaughter. Every drop of pain and blood that trickled from his knuckles, were unable to erase his desperation. Anger filled the voids left in his crushed heart. An emotion of resentment towards his own helplessness.
Until the end of his days, Rignil might never really understand what was happening. He was drowned in regret so deeply, that he forgot the walking terror had already reached him. The hero was thrown away as he managed to parry the swift strike from the cursed dragon’s darkened claws.
The chosen knight never knew what had just transpired. His instinct might have taken over and forced him to keep on living, or his hands were moved by Sygnun, his sword. However, his mind was convinced that the latter was nigh impossible.
“You are alive? Still…” Rahnuc grinned, showing two rows of horrifying sharp teeth. His body was enormous, five times the size of Rignil. He stood like most human and dracconid, but he walked as if he was doused in drunken rage.
It was not exactly visible, but there was an impression of dark eerie mist that emanated from his ever evolving and deformed flesh. Spikes protruded from the gaps of his bladelike grey scales. His claws were as long as giant swords. Both arms were much longer than a normal dracconid would.
“Interesting…” the demonic dragon growled as he lunged forward. But, he seemed amused nonetheless.
Fight him, Rignil!
Rignil parried another strike. Never had he ever realized what was the reason, but the hero himself was able to stand up again. Something pushed him to keep on struggling. Was it the burden of his duty? Was it fear or the urge to protect? Alas, beyond all of those glorious thought, perhaps he just wanted to survive.
The cursed dragon turned and swept his misbegotten tail, bouncing off the the young man once more. This time, however, Rignil managed to land safely by stabbing his sword to the ground. If it was really, the barren ground.
Everything that was so blurry, became clear as crystal in that moment. The hero realized that his sword did not land on the dry land. It was a stack of corpses, humans and dracconids alike.
Terror struck at Rignil’s sanity and overwhelmed his entire thought. Sygnun was not merely stabbing at the ground, nor a simple corpse. The silver blue steel turned red. Its perfect blade had pierced right at the heart of someone dear.
Forever, until the end of his own existence, Rignil would never knew if his old fellow was killed by the cursed dragon or by the hero himself. But he can’t cast aside the look of his best friend’s eyes. A look of terror, feeling of betrayed, and disbelief. Never once, the memory shall be erased from his memories.
Rignil’s hands shook as they tightens his grip on the memento. The very proof that he had taken the life of his own friend.
“Amusing… so much amusement…”
“What is so…” Rignil’s whole body shook as he heard Rahnuc’s blabbering. Every anger and hatred burns wildly inside the hero’s heart. As if answering to the hero’s emotion and the satisfaction of the blood it sucked, Sygnun turned bright red.
Embrace your rage, Rignil. Redirect it towards that demon.
“... what is so amusing, monster?!!!”
The Chosen Dragon Slaying Knight lunged forward. He greeted the Dragon Demon King’s madness with a thrust from his sword. Lightning struck wildly while heaven and earth trembled. Rignil slashed his sword without much of a thought. He was showered by the black blood of the cursed dragon and the fresh red of his own.
At that moment, time was not present for Rignil. Everything blurred once more. The battle felt like a never ending nightmare. Sound, smell, sight, feelings, and thoughts fade away. He cared not victory nor defeat. Life and death was not the matter he could care of anymore. There was only a desire to unleash all of his self hatred towards Rahnuc.
In the end, there was only one of them that was left standing.