Abel's Tale

VI. The Will to Power

Nothing would ever be enough to rid his memory of that fateful night. Nothing would ever be enough for him to truly move on. And the sudden reawakening not too long ago, the past rising from the grave to haunt him again. He peered into the Prince's mind and saw Mother. He saw her murder. He felt his pain. Why? How is that even possible? These questions followed Abel since that very moment, always lingering.

Even in his moments of triumph, when everything seems to be starting to finally become right, the memories return to haunt him. They always haunt him. And now this stranger, Prince Malachi, haunts him too. He spoke to him as if he knew him, as if they'd known each other all their lives. But he'd never before seen someone quite like him. And now he appears in visions. Awful, terrible visions.

The red crystal in his hands drained the warmth from everything it touched, and which dared to touch it. When it fell from his hand the little plant life that did make it through the ash died. The shock of it snapped Abel out of his trance, he was left gasping for air as the sudden cold sucked it all out.

A black boot stepped next to the crystal, and a gloved hand picked it up. The ash staining the ends of his dark cape grazing it. The air dropped several degrees and the wind came to an end. Red clouds and skies blotted out the sun. The stench of rot and decay invaded the senses. He stood calm and collected, he wore a certain air of confidence and royalty; not unlike his demeanor from before. He uncurled his fingers and watched the crystal float to the front of his face. He looked at it with the inquisitive look of someone who's studying. The otherworldly gaze.

Abel, expecting a fight, instinctively reached for his sword. Malachi carried no such thing in this place, not that he needed a physical weapon to protect himself. Abel knew all too well what he was capable of with nothing.

Elise should return any moment now. She's been gone several days past the agreed upon return date. But that didn't matter now, not with Malachi.

And then came that voice, the hauntingly beautiful voice of the dark Prince. A voice so soothing it made the skin crawl, with the faintest hint of subdued pain behind every single word. For all the secrecy and vagueness, he laid everything bare. "You have a way of getting around. Tell me, where did you find this?" His eyes glazed over, the crystal in their reflection. "This beautiful thing."

"How did you find me?" Abel's voice was distant, the memories of his mother were still fresh in his mind. "You shouldn't be able to find me here."

"Does it really matter? You aren't hard to find. Not to me. Not to my Master," Malachi's voice held complete control of the situation. "He has searched for so long for what I hold in my hand now."

"What's so special about it?"

"You're a terrible liar. I can feel your deceit, and your hatred for me. Me? I, who spared you. I, who saved you."

"You didn't save me."

Malachi, wearing the face of an intense study, looked upon the crystal once more. "You never told me where you found this."

"In a tomb. I should've left it there. Happy?"

"You're so hostile, and for what? I've done nothing today to earn such wrath."

Abel scoffed. "Today. Is there a point to all this?"

"You saw me speak to my Master. You saw what he did to me. I saw you, too. But he did not see you," He glanced down at the red crystal. His brow furrowed, he was thinking, analyzing. "You've used this, haven't you?"

Abel stared right through Malachi. Was it that obvious?

"You did. Good, I knew you were gonna be fun, and so, too, shall this," Malachi smiled as his eyes glazed over, a red light began to glow in his hand. The crystal's power was immense even at a distance, in the hands of another being far more powerful than Abel hoped to achieve. "We'll go on this journey together."