Ashen Light

Chapter 6: Falsehood

Zephyr's boots struck the cracked earth with slow, measured steps, his senses alert to every shift in the air. His fingers tingled with a familiar energy, purple sparks flickering down his forearm, eager to be unleashed. The low growl of a demon echoed through the canyons, and Zephyr smirked, glancing toward the noise.

"Come on, then," he muttered. "Let's see what you're made of."

A hunched, twisted form lunged from the shadows, its eyes gleaming with malevolent hunger. Zephyr moved with a practiced ease, summoning the crackling energy from within. He sidestepped, extending his arm, and a flash of purple lightning arced across the demon's path, turning it to ashes.

As he surveyed the smoldering remains, his smirk faded. Small, weak demons like this one had been slipping out of the Underworld for ages, but lately, they'd been emerging in numbers he hadn't seen before. Something was stirring in the depths, and the more powerful demons weren't content to stay hidden anymore.

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The town square buzzed with curiosity as Zephyr sauntered through, his confident stride drawing a growing audience. He wore his self-assured grin like a badge, purple energy sparking faintly along the edges of his jacket with each step. Townsfolk murmured, some pointing in awe or offering hesitant greetings, but Zephyr's attention was elsewhere—assessing his surroundings with a gaze that lingered just a second too long on anything remotely reflective.

Zack nudged Cyrus, a smirk twitching at his lips. "Think he knows we're not impressed?" he whispered, barely containing his amusement.

Cyrus just watched, curious but wary. He'd heard tales of the Champions, protectors born of divine power to guard the realm. But something about Zephyr—his easy smirk, the way he looked past everyone as if the town was beneath him—seemed more arrogant than noble.

Zephyr caught sight of the pair, his gaze flicking over them with casual interest. "So," he said, folding his arms and looking just enough to give Zack and Cyrus a once-over, "you two are the welcoming committee?"

Zack just leaned back against the pillar behind him, putting his arms behind his head and flashing a bit of a grin. "I dunno man. Seems like you're always trying to talk to us. Need some new friends? Don't look like you got too many." He said, giving a mock salute with one hand.

Zephyr raised an eyebrow, an amused grin spreading across his face as he sized Zack up. "Oh? Maybe I just have an eye for quality company," he replied, the hint of sarcasm clear.

Zack chuckled, unbothered, crossing his arms. "Right, quality company in a dusty old town like Clankal. You must be desperate, big guy."

Cyrus couldn't help a small smile, appreciating Zack's fearless attitude. Zephyr, though, didn't miss a beat, clapping a hand over his heart as if wounded. "Desperate? Please. I'm only here to keep a watch on things," he said, the slight crackle of purple energy emphasizing his words. His gaze shifted, sharpening as he added, "And let's just say you're lucky to have me here with the trouble brewing. I've got more power in one finger than-"

"-than the rest of us combined. Yeah, yeah, we get it," Zack interrupted with a grin. "The rumors didn't leave much out."

Zephyr's smirk deepened, but there was a flash of something almost challenging in his eyes as he looked at Cyrus. "You look like you can handle yourself. Tell me, ever see a Champion in action up close?"

Cyrus tilted his head slightly, his voice reserved as he replied, "And if I did, you would still display it, I'm sure."

Zephyr chuckled, clearly entertained, though there was a slight narrowing of his eyes as he registered the subtle jab. "Confidence is a perk of the position, friend," he replied smoothly. "When you're the strongest in the room, you don't exactly hide it."