Elegy For An Epilogue

Blood red mist wreathed around Doran’s body. Exuding from his core, humming and pulsating like a breathing lung would. His bow was raised, and into the cloudless night a single arrow was released. There was a low whispering whistle, growing in volume until with a deafening boom, the cascading lights blossomed, and the final hells were raised.

Thunder descended upon the canyon, ethereal arrows rained down, fueled by ravenous mana as the cacophony of twisting, unnatural screams ripped into the air. The villagers were unable to watch, mothers shielded the children’s eyes while the faces of many fathers hardened. The scene was one of perverted beauty, one that only someone just as broken as Cecillia could enjoy.

Her blue eyes were stretched wide, as if they couldn’t capture enough of the battle. Blood exploded, igniting into deadly plumes of red within the baptism of arrows. Olivia covered her mouth and her pupils trembled. She collapsed to her knees, unable to say a word. The display of might shown was something an ordinary cook would never see. And if they did, they would wish that it was but a fluke.

Blackie growled at the flashing lights and Bluey atop the wolf’s head released a warbled blobble. Even her two pets were forced to acknowledge the captain’s strength.

“C-cecillia…” Olivia stuttered, and her tone dropped to a whisper. “What the hell is going on? Is he even human?”

The black-haired woman didn’t reply. Instead she only stared languidly. For some reason, the man strapped the bow onto his back before his form fell forward. But just as he was about to hit the ground, he then vanished. Cecillia was barely able to track his movements when he finally appeared before the first creature that had managed to survive.

An arcing flash of silver caught her vision, and the troll’s head fell to the ground. In the next second, the monster’s torso was bisected. Even with whatever combat experience she had, the blade’s movements were far too fast for her to track. Her doubled agility was the only reason why she could even see its afterimages in the first place.

Cecillia unknowingly took a step forward out of the cavern’s mouth and the eerie glow of the full moon graced her skin. To some, she would appear as the maiden of the night or even as a ghost, but the usual eyes were repulsed. Her heart thumped in her chest as the man became a whirlwind of death. Wherever a glare of silver cried, the agonizing tears of crimson blood would follow.

Still, at least a hundred of the horde remained. The fight was still far from over, and she could even see the man’s movements slowing. Everytime a creature was slain, Doran seemed to regain a burst of strength, but even that too, would dwindle.

Cecillia’s dainty hands tightened, her nails digging into her palms as the battle raged. She could feel the reverberations from the fight running up her legs, rather, everyone could. Her gaze left the man for a moment to look at the villagers. She saw the chef, standing with crossed arms, watching the fight. Laen, a piercing gaze in his eyes as he watched his father’s every move. The other cooks and their families, Layla, the council. Even the strange youth Arthur.

All their hope and trust was placed in Doran, and they knew that if he failed, it would be over.

“Dad…”

Cecillia made out the boy’s whisper. She knew that no matter how much he wanted to help, there was no world that he could. Just like her, Laen’s hands were clenched, though they were to the point where they were beyond just white.

She turned down to Olivia and the cook gave her a pleading glance. Whatever answer she wanted, Cecillia didn’t know, but it simply felt right to give a gentle nod.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said and looked in Laen’s direction. “He wouldn’t dare lose.”

Olivia’s lips parted, but her gaze followed, floating on the boy before her eyes fell solemnly. The woman turned towards Gordon whose breath came out in shallow wisps of white condensation. She placed a comforting hand on his chest, tenderly stroking his body as a small smile came to her face.

“I see… Thank you, Cecillia,” Olivia said.

Cecillia tilted her head. “For what?”

She didn’t understand why the woman was thanking her, she just said what was on her mind. Olivia blinked, her eyes softening as she met Cecillia’s confused gaze. The middle-aged woman’s hand lingered on the unconscious cook’s chest before leaving a loving kiss on his forehead.

“You’re still young,” Olivia smiled. “You’ll understand one day.”

Cecillia stared at the woman, deadpan, but the cook shook her head softly.

“Go,” The woman said. “That boy’s father is out there right?”

Olivia waited for Cecillia to nod and a knowing look emerged in the woman’s face.

“Then go. All the cooks know that you’re friends with that boy. He needs you more than we do.”

Cecillia turned towards Laen. A frown flitted onto her lips, it seemed that at any moment, he would run off chasing after his father. She turned down to the woman, glancing towards Gordon as she bowed before leaving.

As she walked towards the boy, Blackie and Bluey trailed after her steps. Laen turned towards her as she approached and the tension within his body subsided slightly.

“Cecillia…” his voice cracked, eyes widening as if he had seen a ghost. The boy took a shaky step forward before his head dipped slightly. “I’m glad… you’re alive.”

The woman furrowed her brows, but soon noticed that he wasn’t quite looking at her. His gaze loomed over her shoulder, fixated on his father. Perhaps his reaction wasn’t emitted in a correct state of mind.

Cecillia stood next to the boy, and they simply did the only thing that they could. Bright flashes of light licked against the cavern, each one with their own set of hideous screams. She could feel the distress releasing from Laen’s body. Every twitch of his eye, the labored breaths, it was the curse of a powerless bystander.

Her eyes removed from the boy and turned towards the man. In the distance, Doran was but a vicious blur of white. His blade tore through everything with brilliant clashes of silver, and an inferno of blood erupted around his being. The darkened liquid seemed to almost take on the silhouette of a lion, trailing after the man with a thundering roar.

‘The Great Red Lion.’

Naira’s words from their first encounter echoed in her head. Such a scene shouldn’t be possible, how could blood take on the form of a creature? Her only conclusion was that the system was responsible. Cecillia watched as the lion ripped into flesh, devouring entire corpses whole. She was mesmerized and the lull of battle once again became her world. Her breathing slowed, and everything seemed to pass within fraction frames.

Although, a sudden hitch within the boy’s breath caught her attention and snapped her out of the trance. Laen had… hissed sharply and an arrow had appeared in his hand. Cecillia frowned and looked towards Doran but a sour expression came across her face.

Only about two dozen monsters remained and each time his blade descended, another creature would perish. However it was clear that the man’s strength was starting to wane. The bloody apparition of the lion had disappeared, and the man’s movements were no longer fluid. The crimson mist that had once wreathed around him like an ethereal armor had also already started to thin.

Another troll lurched towards Doran, both limbs raised high above its monstrous height. The man turned, but his reaction was a split second too slow. The creature’s claws raked towards him, glinting savagely in the moon’s mocking glow. Though, a faint smile crossed Cecillia’s lips and a single arrow whistled through the night.

Piercing directly into the monster’s forehead, the creature’s momentum halted for a fraction of a second. Doran glanced back at the two, holding direct eye contact within that frozen fragment of time before his blade clattered to the floor. And in the next moment, Cecillia’s head was ringing. She was just barely able to catch the man’s fist, and when his knuckles collided with the monster’s torso. The sound was deafening. Shockwaves rippled from the impact, tearing through the canyon with a violet roar. The space itself seemed to almost distort as the boom echoed against the massive walls.

The troll didn’t even have time to react, much less even tense itself from the blow. Its chest caved inward, bones snapping like brittle twigs before everything was annihilated. A gust of wind followed the vaporization and carried out the grave scent of death.

Smoke and dust billowed around the scene, and when it finally cleared, the troll was no more. All that remained were two stumps, rooted to the ground that didn’t do a great job of telling any story. Doran stood at the center of the destruction, steam rising from his fist as he glanced around.

Like a spell being released, the few stragglers that had somehow managed to survive recognized that they were no longer the predators. The hungry lights in their eyes dissipated, and something universal replaced the fading crimson glint. Fear latched onto their bodies, seeping in like a deadly poison and the monsters tore into a desperate sprint. They clawed against the ground, gouging deep scars into the earth’s flesh, but mercy… for this night, she had decided to put on her antonym’s coat. Doran drew his bow, a single arrow for every remaining monster was all he needed, until the last fell lifeless.

The moon shone down upon his body, like a spotlight that would chase after the performer that had just executed a grand performance. Breaths were held, not one person daring to even taste the oxygen. Those that had refused to look, were forced to gaze upon the false protagonist.

The air was thick with an unsettling silence, only broken by the man’s advancing footsteps and the tears of blood dripping from his blade. His hair was matted with the liquid, and dirt covered his limbs and flesh. Cecillia was the only one whose heart wasn’t gripped with dread, but even then, the sheer presence emanating from the man wasn’t something to scoff at.

“Father.”

Doran glanced at the boy for a second and his steps almost seemed to slow, but he turned away as if nothing had happened. Not even a shred of acknowledgement was given. The man swept past the two, and as he passed, Cecillia noted that his face was gaunt. After a fight like that, it wasn’t surprising that he was tired, but to only be tired…

She heard the boy ground his teeth from beside her, and she glanced down at him. His hands were clenched, and his lips silent, but there was an inkling of a strange acceptance that she couldn’t quite understand.

A frown appeared on her face and she stared at the man’s back. Regardless of whatever relationship they had, it wasn’t her place to pry. Cecillia remained quiet as Doran talked with the elderly council. They exchanged what seemed to be a couple words before Layla—being the representative, stood and gathered the people.

“People of Willowmere,” Layla’s declaration echoed through the caverns. Her voice was a stark difference from the speech announced a week earlier. Now, her words came out a little shaky, but not anyone seemed to notice or care after the captain's display of bloodshed.

“I…” she paused and drew a deep breath. “We, the people. Normal villagers who have been through far too much. I know that our belongings are out there, destroyed, burnt, in flames. But we have escaped with our lives! We are Willowmere! Our things are only material wealth, we will get more. But I ask of you, just one final time… Tonight, we shall survive. For those who have perished, their sacrifice will not be in vain.”

The woman’s gaze hovered on several families, families who had lost a precious piece. Their trembling gazes reflected deep aching tears. It wasn’t out of the question that she had known them personally.

“Now, let us march. For Windhaven awaits.”

The villagers began to stir. Slowly, they stood, helping one another to their feet. After all, all they had left was each other. Mothers gathered their children close, huddling them at the center of the group for safety. The frail elders were supported by the younger ones, hands were clasped together tightly as if to never let go. Those that were able bodied, and capable of the slightest bit of combat stood at the flanks.

Doran led the charge at the front with one of the three remaining torches. The light casted flickering shadows across the cavern walls, and as the village took a silent praying breath, they were off.

Cecillia rode atop of Blackie, its paws padded steadily against the rocky terrain. Bluey hovered above her head, bobbling along with the wolf’s steps. She sat near the right wing of the formation, her curious eyes scanning every one of the tunnel’s crevices. Though, except for the cavern’s massive width, there wasn’t anything special going on. Like a cave back on earth, stalactites hung from the ceiling, but the walls were stripped bare of any valuables. Deep cracks ran along the length of the stone, likely from many years of mining.

As they went along, an hour must’ve passed and the villagers had fallen into a rhythm. Cecillia was starting to feel a little tired, more so bored as the only scene was the winding tunnel. Smaller paths were revealed in the sides of the main cavern, and the darkness within invited an odd sense of malice.

Cecillia rested a hand on Blackie’s fur, lightly caressing its scruff before pressing her chest against its back. She was slightly nervous about arriving at Windhaven and meeting even more people. Although, it had been a long two weeks since she had arrived and her excitement easily eclipsed the anxiety.

[Divine Seal (XX) - 1 day 22 hours]

There was also that…

Sighing softly, Cecillia raised her head and stretched her arms, trying to ease the stiffness settling within her muscles. She took a quick glance around her surroundings, her eyes lazily drifting over the cave. She didn’t expect to see anything, but surprisingly, something had managed to catch her eye. There were a few deep lines scored into the ground and she didn’t think too much of it. It looked somewhat natural, or maybe it was caused by a passing miner, but that couldn’t be. It was way too… recent.

Cecillia’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart failed to beat. A sudden chill spread through her limbs and her eyes snapped towards the front.

However, it was far too late.

“DAD NO!!”

[You have disturbed the Abberation’s rest. All stats lowered by 100% for one minute.]