Shadow Bands

XXVIII. Corona

Icy winds swirled on a peak of the Montenyu Mountain Range. Draven stared at the rolling grey clouds as they made their way to the Kingdom of Kogeer. A sense of dread flowed through him like a frost spreading through his veins. A harsh gust blew the hood off his head, reminding him of his task.

His gaze veered down into the valley where he viewed the Tundra of The Nine. Even in its inert condition, it still held a powerful reminder of the forces of the world. He began his trek down the steep slope of the mountain, sliding down the icy walls of its face. Once his foot found a hold, he looked over yonder to see if his line of sight was visible beyond the blizzard.

Through the low visibility, he could see the crumbled walls of the Kingdom of Lycra. What once stood as a symbol of liberation is now a pile of rock around a graveyard.

Draven drew in a painful breath, burning his lungs as he held it within. With a blink, he appeared at the foot of the rubble—thanks to the idea of Namon's Flash Step. Frozen flakes swirled around him at his sudden appearance. He glared down at his feet as they were several inches away from the skeletal remains of a Lycan. His eyes swept side to side at the mountain of rubble to find other remains, a mix of demon and Lycan bones. Their flesh presumably was eaten by the wildlife that roamed here, judging by the scattered skeletal cadavers. He turned to look behind him, but the rest of the land was under several inches of snow.

He set foot within the fallen kingdom.

Its once great bridge was reduced to a clutter of wood and scrap metal, a fall from grace. Even though a storm raged beyond its ruined walls, the fallen kingdom still had its other natural fortifications, allowing it to shelter everything within with a mild wind and snow. Every step he took, the boards groaned underneath his feet, the sound of rusted metals screeched. As he focused ahead of him, he noticed demons were patrolling the bridge. Their crude figures were never hard to miss, even if they were their silhouettes.

Two approached him, their weapons drawn as they closed the gap.

"Who are you?" a crude voice gargled.

"I am here for Xalurahn," he shouted into the harsh winds.

The two demons looked at each other and readied their blades. "He's not looking for visitors."

"I'm not asking for permission."

Draven's eyes glowed a bright red as his Source manifested between the two demons. When he dispersed it, the force sent a shockwave that knocked the demons off the bridge. The force rattled the bridge, its structure rippling violently as it threatened to tear itself apart. But to Draven's surprise, it held together, back into a crude sway.

As he steadied himself, he saw that more demons were coming—the use of his powers went against him once again. He looked for the nearest building he could teleport to. But the wind brought a cold haze to the bridge, obscuring his vision.

He unsheathed his sword that rested on his hip. He rushed forward in a dash. His hand raised as he gathered his Source in the palm of his hand. With a pushing gesture, a dominant force pushed a few of the incoming demons. As he balled his fist and pulled back his elbows, a demon was forced to fly towards him. Draven had already swung his sword, connecting from its collarbone, then down to its stomach.

The demon let out a deathly screech as it breathed its last breath. Bearing witness to what his powers are, the other demons hesitated to approach.

Draven continued his march.

Another fiend approached him, holding a tower shield and a spear. It stood in Draven's path, planting its shield into the wood plank below, then pointing his spear forward.