Playing with Fire [COMPLETED]

41 ~ Forgemaster

The two of us walk in silence, over the icy fields full of bodies and corpses. We stop only when the sky above us goes from dark gray to blood-red. Wither looks up, confusion etched on her face. "No..."

"What?" I ask her, heart skipping a beat. I have not felt anything from Ruin since he was .... taken. But now, I feel a sharp, powerfully hot pain in my heart. I gasp, touching my chest, my gaze landing back on Wither. She tilts her head to the side, then looks to me, concern flashing across her face.

"What's wrong, Elorha?"

"They're hurting him," I whisper.

Her eyes widen.  "Fuck."

"We have to go," I say, but that is when the sky begins spitting blood-snow. That is the best way I know how to explain it. I gag and splutter on the bloody snow, and Wither points to a nearby cave. 

"This is where they went," she shouts over the splattering of blood. "We have to hurry."

We run to the cave, and once we reach it, and are out of the cold snow, heat blasts my face like a furnace. I wince, my eyes watering. I look at Wither, whose also covered in blood and snow.

A low hissing sound slices through my pain. I turn, and watch in horror as a massive, black and green serpent slithers toward us. Its huge fangs drip blood and green goo. I stumble backwards, only for me and Wither to run into a thick wall. My wings pinch behind me.

"This is bad," I mumble. My power swirls in my veins, but I cannot seem to summon them. I look to Wither, and she is shaking her head.

"I can't use my powers," she cries.

"Me either," I say.

The snake rears up, hissing at us. Then, a person appears behind the snake. They flick their wrists, and the snake turns to ashes.

"Apologies for the snake," says a deep, male voice. "She just is very protective of my little corner of this place."

"What?" Wither asks, staring at him.

The man steps our from the shadows and approaches us.  He has salt-and-pepper hair and a beard, his dark skin is scarred. He holds his hands up in surrender, and when he speaks again, he smiles.

"Don't be afraid, I am a Forgemaster," he says.

"A Forgemaster?" Wither asks.

"Can you help us find who we are looking for?" I ask.

"Depends on who you're looking for," says the man.

"We are trying to find Ruin, he was.... taken by this wolf thing," I explain.

"Ah," the Forgemaster nods. "Unfortunately, they are not here. But fortunately for you, I do know where they would be headed."

"Where?"

"Come closer. I will open a portal that will take you directly to where the wolves rest. But you must be warned that like this place, you will not be able to rely upon your powers. So, I will give you some special weapons to use."

Wither and I reluctantly step forward. The Forgemaster holds out his hands, and a sword made of the finest, black metal appears in his grasp. He hands the sword to Wither, who nods and sheaths it at her hip.

The Forgemaster turns to me then. He holds out both hands, and two long, but wicked-looking daggers appear. They are purple, black, and silver. Twin daggers.

"Use these when you need to," he says.  "If you believe in yourself, and your aim remains true, these blades that I have given you will never fail. These blades are powerful, made from the Lifeforge itself. If you need something from them, they will give it to you. But that is typically limited to bloodshed. So, if you need them to kill someone, trust in the blades and the power they hold. They will kill whoever you need dead."

"Thank you," I say to him.

The Forgemaster nods.  "Now, the portal." He turns and waves a hand in the air. A shimmering wall of energy appears, and he beckons us forth. "Believe in yourselves, and your power and your allies will return. Do not let the horrors you see here taint your view of this wonderful world we live in."

"Thank you, Forgemaster," Wither says.

He smiles again.  "It has been my pleasure."

We step through the portal.