Xanther's End Game
King Lariden growled, a feral sound reverberating off the cold stone walls. “Xanther, LET me out of here!”
Xanther sighed, the weight of his burden evident in his weary eyes. “You do not get it, you idiot! I cannot go against the army—my army. Your fate is sealed by the Realm Police force. Caspen is acting under direct orders from Renaldo and Raelith. I cannot save you, or anyone under his control. I am sorry. You will have to find another way out of here.”
With a final, regretful glance, Xanther vanished into the ether, leaving King Lariden alone in his despair. The shadows closed in, whispering their cold, empty promises.
King Lariden growled and slammed his fist against the cell wall.
Xanther stormed into the throne room, his boots striking the floor with a resounding thud. His eyes locked on his wife, who sat amidst a circle of Nexus’s most influential nobles, engaged in a deep conversation. The air around her shimmered with an aura of control, but Xanther’s fury could not be denied.
“Everyone out,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. “I need a word with my wife.”
The nobles hesitated for only a moment before rising in unison and filing out without a single word, their faces a mixture of surprise and wariness.
As the last of them left, the door slammed shut with a finality that echoed through the room. The space between Xanther and Relana was thick with tension, as if the very air had frozen.
Xanther took a deliberate step forward, his gaze never leaving Relana. “I will ask you once, and once only. Did you know that Raelith was Raziel’s son?” His voice was a low growl, an undercurrent of violence just beneath the surface.
Relana’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “I did.”
The words hung in the air like a challenge. Xanther’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his anger rising like a storm. “Then why, by the gods, did you not think it important enough to tell me?” His voice cracked, barely controlled, as the weight of her silence crushed him.
Relana’s smile faded, replaced by something far darker, more calculated. She stood slowly, her posture regal, yet her eyes—those eyes—were filled with a chilling detachment. “Xanther,” she said, her tone smooth but edged with disdain, “in these last few years, you’ve become more and more distant. You’ve stopped seeing me—stopped seeing us. You’ve abandoned everything that once mattered between us in favor of your pathetic plans.” She took a deliberate step toward him, her presence commanding, yet cold. “So tell me, husband, what makes you think I give a single damn about any of it anymore?”
The silence that followed was deafening, as Xanther stood frozen, the weight of her words sinking into him like poison. The battle between them was no longer one of politics or strategy; it was personal.
Her venom dripped from her further words. “I denounce you as my King, Xanther. The only thing you care about is the return of your dark powers. I hate that you had to wield Apocalyptica’s powers to assist in the fall of the gods. But it could not be avoided. You need something to anchor you. I clearly am not good enough for you.”
Her words did not hurt, but inflamed his anger. “That damn Renaldo. He stripped her power from me and left me as a husk! I am forced now to feed upon the scraps of what mortals give off as they slowly die. If I kill them all, I will destroy my ‘food’ source. Do you realize how demeaning that is? I feel like a pathetic, wasting away vampire.”
A dark chuckle rose from her throat. “Xanther, if you had not forsaken Talveran, you would be the head of the Army of Ages. You would be the King of Nexus as it was designed to be.”
Xanther clenched his fist. “You don’t get it! There is so much more power out there, if only I could just get it back. I need to find Merlin’s notes and the pathway into the abyss. Dolour would grant me the knowledge I seek!”
“You are a fool, Xanther. That is a path to madness. Can’t you find a better way?”
He turned around and walked over to the castle window, the moonlight casting a cold, ghostly glow on his face. “You don’t get it, woman. My Goddess has fallen. Lumina has fallen. My kingdom is slipping out of my reach, and even you falter in your loyalties to me.” He stared out into the night, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I am on the brink of losing everything.”
Relana’s expression softened, if only for a moment. “Xanther, this thirst for power will be your undoing. There are other ways to rebuild, to regain what was lost. But not like this. Not through madness and darkness.”
Xanther turned back to face her, his eyes filled with a mix of desperation and fury. “What do you know of loss, Relana? What do you know of the sacrifices I’ve made? Every moment, every breath, is a battle. And I will not be denied.”
King Lariden growled in frustration, his hands clenched into fists. Suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind. He turned sharply and barked, “Guard!”
A dark knight appeared, crossing his arms with a sneer. “What do you want, you pathetic king?”
King Lariden’s eyes blazed with determination. “I need to speak to Caspen. I have urgent intel on Xanther’s plans.”
The knight eyed him with suspicion. “Fine. I will fetch him.” With that, the guard left the dimly lit prison.
Moments later, the guard approached Caspen, who was immersed in his own thoughts. “Caspen, King Lariden has intel he wishes to sell for his freedom.”
Caspen let out a bitter laugh. “Like what?”
“Something about Xanther,” the guard responded.
Caspen’s amusement vanished. “Interesting.” His footsteps echoed ominously as he made his way to Lariden’s cell.
“What do you want, Lariden?” Caspen’s voice was cold, almost dismissive.
Lariden’s voice was steady. “I want to trade information about Xanther’s neural implants for my freedom.”
“Oh? You have my attention.”
“I need your word.” King Lariden eyed him with suspicion.
Caspen studied him intently. “Alright, I will humor you. Your freedom in the material realm in exchange for viable intel on Xanther…”
Lariden leaned forward, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “The elder dragons. I can tell you anything you want to know about them and how they power the neural implants.”
The facade of detachment melted away from Caspen’s face. He unlocked the cell door and motioned for Lariden to follow him. “Speak carefully, Lariden. This had better be worth it.”
King Lariden took a deep breath. “What you have to understand is that, the neural implants they operate off of order magic. Not Chaos. There fore they need a source of magic that is order in nature. Most living beings when dieing or dead give off chaos magic, as their order naturally decays to chaos.
“Elder Dragons do not operate that way. When they “sleep”, they give off magic of Order. Thus one dragon powers one neural implante.”
Caspen listened to this with great interest. “Alright Lariden, I will allow you to leave the prisions but you must start over owning nothing and must make it in the Materal realm.”
The Aether Veil
Tashina paused for a moment, her voice a soft whisper. “Stay focused.”
With every step, the oppressive atmosphere of the Aether Veil grew thicker, heavier, as though the land itself was fighting against them.
Yet, they pressed on, knowing that the Nameless Queen was their only hope for restoring Raziel’s memories—and perhaps, the only chance they had to escape this wretched place.
As they ventured further, the shadows grew deeper, and the landscape grew more twisted and warped.
It was clear that the Aether Veil was a reflection of the soul’s darkest corners, where time itself seemed suspended and where hope withered in the cold embrace of despair.
The silence of the Aether Veil pressed down on them like a weight, suffocating and unyielding. The dark, twisted trees loomed overhead, their gnarled limbs like skeletal fingers reaching out.
As if to grasp them and pull them deeper into the realm’s suffocating embrace. The fog rolled in thicker now, swirling around their feet and threatening to obscure their path.
The air seemed to vibrate with unseen malevolence, wrapping around them like a shroud. Each step into the Aether Veil felt like a step deeper into the abyss.
Raziel’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white. He could sense the whispers growing louder, the shadows pressing closer, as if mocking their resolve. But he refused to falter. Not now, not ever.
Tashina led the way with an ethereal grace, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of sorrow and determination. She knew what lay ahead, and yet, she pressed on, undeterred by the horrors dancing just out of sight.
As they journeyed further, the landscape transformed into a nightmarish dreamscape. The ground beneath their feet felt alive, shifting and writhing like a living entity.
The trees, twisted and gnarled, seemed to reach out with skeletal fingers, their branches whispering secrets of despair.
Without warning, a piercing cry echoed through the mist. A shadowy figure emerged, its form fluid and ever-changing, a formless mass of darkness.
Its eyes burned with an otherworldly fire, a beacon of malevolence in the perpetual gloom.
Raziel and Tashina halted, their breaths shallow, hearts pounding in unison. The creature seemed to grow in size, its presence overwhelming, suffocating. But Tashina’s resolve remained unshaken. With a steely gaze, she stepped forward.
She drew her sword as the shadow horror turned, its glowing red eyes fixing upont them. A mind shattering hiss threatened to consume their sanity.
Raziel out of habit drew his sword. Together, they faced the entity, their determination unwavering.
Raelith’s armor surged forward covering his face with dark armor. The gold runes pulsed with energy and his eyes became the glowing fury of Aegis.
The creature lunged, its form shifting and twisting, but Raziel and Tashina stood their ground, their movements fluid and precise.
With each strike, each clash of steel against shadow, they drove the creature back, their resolve unbroken.
More shadow monsters rose around them. The threat growing. The trio held their ground but were only keeping the wirthing shadows from claiming their souls.
An enormous beast rose on the horizion. Fire lit up the sky. Aurlien glowed upon Raziel’s back. He positioned himself between his two comrads. With a fluid movement his sword sheathed. Aurlien now in his hands.
With a confidence he did not feel, he nocked an arrow. Drawing the string taught he aimed. With a hope that the Nameless one would help his aim, he cried out.
“My Goddess, My Patron. In your name I pray that my arrow strikes true!” He let the arrow fly. Its Ashwood shaft spun in its flight. A dark shadow shrowded and condensed around the arrow. It pierced the shadow’s dragons heart.
The great beast fell and came sliding to a stop at their feat. A deafening howl of defeat the attacking created retreated into the darkness. A new entity took form infront of them. It spoke to them.
“I was wondering when you would come here my dear warklock.”
Her form took shape. A woman of sorts stood before them. Her face a contortion of twisting shadows.