Blood and Redemption_Demo 1

Chapter Three: Father's Sins

Delore awoke to the muffled sound of voices and a sharp pain in his head. He blinked hard, his vision blurred as he tried to sit up. The cold, hard floor beneath him was damp, and the scent of ash lingered in the air. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was. Then it all came rushing back-the tavern, the elf, and the soldiers bearing Fenric's banner.

He tried to stand, but his body protested. His muscles, weakened by years of neglect, ached under the weight of his own exhaustion. A searing pain shot through his side where he had been struck. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to his feet, bracing against the wall for support. The room around him was dark, illuminated only by a sliver of moonlight creeping through a small window.

"Must have been out for 30 minutes," Delore muttered to himself.

The tavern was empty. The sound of distant fighting echoed through the village outside. His sword, still strapped to his side, felt heavier than it should have.

"Damned elf," Delore grumbled, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. He staggered toward the door, his head throbbing.

Pushing it open, he was met with chaos. The village was in ruins. Homes were burning, and villagers screamed as Fenric's soldiers stormed through the streets, setting everything ablaze. The soldiers moved in organized ranks, their armor dark and unmarked except for the sigil of Fenric-an ominous black serpent.

Delore's heart pounded. He scanned the village, searching for Eryndor and his companions, hoping they had survived the initial attack. In the distance, he spotted the elf leading a group of defenders near the village square, in front of Fenric. Eryndor moved with deadly grace, his green eyes glowing with fierce determination.

Delore began to move toward them when Fenric noticed him. Delore's eyes met Fenric's, and he knew he couldn't let the past consume him again.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the night-a young voice. Delore's head snapped in the direction of the sound. Through the haze of smoke and fire, he saw a small figure being dragged by one of Fenric's soldiers, a child struggling to break free.

His heart clenched as his thoughts flashed back to the day he first met Fenric.

With a growl of defiance, Delore pushed himself forward, stumbling toward the soldier. The soldier didn't see him coming. Delore unsheathed his sword in one swift motion and drove it into the man's back. The soldier's body stiffened, then crumpled to the ground. Delore pulled the blade free and dropped to one knee in front of the child-a boy, no older than ten, trembling with fear.

"You're safe," Delore rasped, his voice harsh from disuse. "Go. Run."

The boy hesitated for a moment, staring up at Delore with wide eyes, then bolted into the shadows without a word. Delore watched him go, his chest tightening. He had saved one, but how many more were lost? How many more would he fail?

A voice rang out from behind him. "You shouldn't be here, old man."

Delore turned slowly, his body aching with every movement. Eryndor stood a few paces away, his elegant robes smeared with blood and dirt. His long silver-white hair was disheveled, and his green eyes were cold, but there was a flicker of something behind them-concern, perhaps.

"I told you," Eryndor continued, sheathing his sword. "You're in no shape to fight."

Delore spat blood on the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I've fought in worse shape."

Eryndor's lips curled into a grim smile. "Stubborn old fool."

Delore didn't respond, his gaze shifting to the burning village. The fires were spreading, and Fenric's forces were relentless. The defenders were being overwhelmed. He could hear the screams of the dying, the clash of steel on steel, and the roar of flames devouring everything in their path.

"What are you fighting for?" Eryndor asked suddenly, his voice quieter now, almost drowned out by the chaos around them. "You don't belong here. This isn't your fight."

Delore's eyes darkened. "It is now, isn't that right, Fenric?"

"You want vengeance, don't you?" Fenric taunted. The elf, Eryndor, took a swift look at Delore and said, "You think killing Fenric will bring you peace."

Delore's jaw tightened. "You don't know anything about me."

Eryndor stepped closer, his green eyes piercing into Delore's. "I know more than you think. You've been running from ghosts for a long time. But you're not the only one who's lost something."

Delore's fists clenched around the hilt of his sword. "What do you know about loss?"

"I've lost everything," Eryndor said quietly, his gaze drifting to the burning village. "And I'm not alone. Look around you. These people-they've lost everything too. This fight isn't just about vengeance. It's about survival."

Delore stared at him, the weight of the elf's words pressing down on him. For a moment, the fires seemed to fade, the sounds of battle distant. He had been chasing revenge for so long, he had forgotten what it meant to fight for something other than himself.

Before Delore could respond, Fenric interrupted, "Haven't I given you enough time to chatter, Delore boy?" Delore's eyes narrowed as he took a battle stance. Fenric continued, "You don't expect to defeat the wisest, do you? Especially in that condition you're in."

Delore, vexed, was about to launch an attack when Fenric sneered, "Eluned, was it?"

All of a sudden, Delore felt weak, unable to move a muscle.

"Looks like I was-" Fenric began, but Eryndor cut him off with a shout. "You bastard!!" the elf roared, letting his sword dance, speaking for him in a flurry of attacks.

Soon after, a horn sounded in the distance-Fenric's forces were regrouping for another assault. Eryndor turned, his expression hardening as he realized he couldn't even scratch Fenric.

"We need to fall back," the elf said, all business now. "There's a hideout in the mountains. We can regroup there, but we don't have much time."

Delore nodded, his mind racing. "Fenric, I'll settle this next time."

Fenric smirked, "Do you really think I'll just let you all go?" he said with an evil laugh.

Delore responded firmly, "I know you will, and even if you wouldn't, I'll hold you all off here, you and your men."

Fenric called off his guards, "Don't expect me to do this next time. Next time will definitely be our last," he said, turning and leading his soldiers away.

"Lead the way to the hideout," Delore said, turning back to the elf, his voice steady despite the pain wracking his body.

As they began to move, Delore glanced once more at the village behind them, flames licking at the night sky.

They finally made it to the hideout. During the headcount, Eryndor turned to Delore and said, "Tell me the story."