Before the Storm

Chapter 31: To Chase... The Storm

The storm has come and the Knights have to face it alone in the confines of the Nether; but when the unknown Ardoni starts picking on particular individuals, they start to suspect that things are not what they seem. Jerome and Vulcannus do their best to get to them before it is too late

And when the truth is revealed, what to do in the fallout remains elusive as mistakes are made that cannot be taken back; and everyone pays the price

Author's note: unplanned hiatus out of the way, I don't have to explain myself to you; but I owe you a little if nothing else. the remaining two chapter illustrations are still sketches. they were planned and started, and then things went pear-shaped and I just can't finish them. I understand they were a little of what made these fics a little special, but I just can't bring myself to draw anymore. perhaps they may get added in the future, but based on where things are going, don't hold your breath

that aside, we have reached the penultimate moment in the story. brace yourselves. all I have to say is... I'm sorry it had to be this way ;-;

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The Knights collectively glared at the unknown Ardoni, at last in their sights for the first time since the Fort Zuka attack. Everyone froze – the Ardoni included – and no one dared move.

"Step away from the boy, or he gets hurt." The gravelly voice of the other Ardoni projected across the Netherrack bridge to the Knights beside Almrak, and the threat that carried with it put them on guard.

Their backs were raised, and their weapons were out. Hubris, of all, was ready for this to end.

He'd been ready for it to end since before the storm. Now? Now he was bringing it with him.

"You haven't harmed him nor killed him in the time that you've had him," he deflected, stepping forward with his chest out, head raised, and sword gripped. "What is going to make us think that's going to change, now?"

The plain white grin on the corrupted face of the hooded Ardoni was a cruel indication that things were indeed going to change. Irreparably so. It sent a shiver down the Knights' spines.

"I have an audience..."

Grek shuffled in front of Almrak as the Voltaris' wall with a low growl, and Grim inched closer with his scythe tight in his hands. Even with a brave face adorned upon his features, Almrak couldn't keep himself from shaking ever so slightly at the threat upon his life. Up until now, he had never felt quite safe, even with the fresh supplies to keep him well, and the lack of threats otherwise. The other Ardoni had not said anything untoward about himself nor his brother – of whom he had no idea on his whereabouts since being abducted, and he wasn't with the Knights – and he had not shown a touch of malice since taking him from Ataraxia.

He placed his palm on the scaly back of the Jaggathan.

"Please don't kill him," he whispered, certain. "He is no different from Ingressus, I can assure you..."

Grek narrowed his eyes and swiftly exchanged a glance with Onyx to his side. Onyx knew what Almrak had said to Grek, just as much as he knew what Grek was wishing Hubris would understand. Emotions were high – understandably so – but now was not the time for revenge. This wasn't the age of the Great War anymore. This wasn't the old black and white ways of the clans vs the Voltaris, the Deathsinger vs the Tidesinger, good vs bad. The grey area was widening, engulfing far more of Ardonia's problems as people became wise to the morals that shrouded the people, regardless of their species.

This man may have terrorised Ardonia just as much as Ingressus had done, and perhaps much for the same reasons as the Deathsinger; but that did not make him the enemy, for beyond the markings of the Deathsinger sat a tortured soul who had lost more than he had to give, who had watched his family fall with his clan, who had watched innocents suffer before his own eyes merely because of their initiated clan. The same applied here and now. This Ardoni had his reasons. Unlike Tygren, he was not out for just any blood.