Zero

Paralyzed

As they entered the town, a haunting tableau of destruction unfolded before Astral and Jaylen—once vibrant, it now lay in ruins, scarred by the ferocity of a cataclysmic battle. The lively marketplace, where the air was once perfumed with the enticing aromas of sizzling street food and fresh catches from the sea, was now an eerie silence punctuated by the crackle of dying flames. Shades of red, brown, and pink splattered the cobblestones, painting a gruesome picture of the carnage that had unfolded.

Thick, black smoke coiled upwards, mingling with the remnants of chaos, while small embers danced like lost souls in the ashen sky. Frozen in place, Astral felt the weight of memories wash over him, each one more suffocating than the last. This was the same town that had borne witness to his darkest hour—a flashback to years prior when the air had been filled with the terror of a dragon's wrath, an inferno that had snatched away lives and left his heart laden with guilt. He could still feel the phantom ache of loss, the blood that stained his hands as if the tragedy had never truly left him. With a tumult of emotions surging through him, Astral tried to ground himself, shutting his eyes tight against the memories clawing at his mind. Jumbling down from his horse, he felt the dread creep deep into his bones, whispering that this was not just a nightmare but a reality he had to confront. Meanwhile, Jaylen—blissfully unaware of his friend's inner turmoil—leaped off his horse, spear in hand, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Wow... It did this," he murmured, taking in the devastation that surrounded them. Astral, still grappling with his own fears, shook his head, desperately trying to push the past away, but his silence screamed louder than any words. When Jaylen called his name, the sound pulled him from the depths of his memories, snapping him back into the present.

"Mhm—" he gasped, the breath hitching in his throat.

"What happened here?" Jaylen's voice wavered, a tremor of anxiety lacing his words as he scanned their bleak surroundings. Astral clenched his fists, fighting to maintain composure as he became acutely aware of the suffocating dread around them.

"Through that tunnel at the end of the town, that's where the castle is set." He deflected the question, his thoughts too tumultuous to articulate. Jaylen glanced downward, assessing the remnants of the chaos, a knot tightening in his stomach.

"...Ah..." he breathed, struggling to steel himself against the terror beginning to gnaw at his resolve. Sensing Jaylen's rising panic, Astral leaned heavily against his horse, striving to trap the chaos in his mind. When he looked up, he sought to offer reassurance, "I'm sure you can take the gargoyles; they aren't likely to kill you."

"Right—" Jaylen replied, his voice cracking as he stepped forward, swallowing his breath, the weight of their grim reality pressing on him as he braced for what lay ahead.

Astral treaded the path with an unwavering determination, his blindfold serving as both a curse and a shield against the haunting memories that danced just beyond his perception. The chaotic outlines of ruins loomed around him, twisted remnants of a city once vibrant, now reduced to smoldering ashes and the eerie stillness of despair. He could feel the weight of the air, thick with the acrid scent of smoke, mingling with the metallic tang of blood, a constant reminder of the war that raged in this forsaken realm. Behind him, Jaylen followed with trepidation, each step echoing the unease that clawed at his insides. The flames flickered like vengeful spirits, illuminating the grotesque scenes of fallen warriors, their forms twisted in eternal anguish.

Amidst this macabre landscape, a gargoyle erupted from the shadows, its grotesque visage a grotesque mockery of life. But with a single, fluid motion, Astral unleashed his spear, slicing through the creature's stone flesh as if it were mere paper, the remnants crumbling before him. He stepped over the lifeless body, a ghostly figure in a world of carnage, moving onward as if the violence surrounding him was a mere footnote in his journey. With each passing moment, more gargoyles emerged from the ruins, their monstrous forms rising like dark tides against the storm of Astral's wrath. His spear danced with lethal grace, embodying a mastery that Jaylen could only marvel at.