The Lonely Blade

Chapter Six

"Death is only the beginning."

— Egyptian belief

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Sebatian Stalin had not felt emotions for the last 99 years now. He did not desire anyone, nor did he did want anything--except for his soul. In the calm pool that was his mind, he knew it had been a mistake to pledge his love to the woman he now called mistress. But he could not regret it either, even though he knew he was an abomination. No one could stand to be near him, let alone touch him. Even the mortals scattered at his approach, which was why he was traversing the dimensional highway--a road between the worlds that allowed to faster passage to anywhere in the multiverse. Very few knew of it's existance and even fewer could walk it. Sebastien was one of those few.

He emerged at his destination--the temple of Zeus. Not the mortal's one in Greece, but the one in the realm of Hive, where he was still worshipped by supernaturals. He entered the empty building and knelt before the statue of the Olympian king.
"Lord Zeus, you need not hear me, but I have not forgotten my oath to you and I will not be forsworn." Sebatian looked up at the statue of Zeus. "You have my oath before she does, always. She is going for your throne again and I think she will use me. I apologise now for any transgressions she forces me to commit against you. I beg of you to be on your guard."
There was no response from Zeus, but just as Sebastien was about to stand to leave, he sensed a presence. No, multible ones, surrounding him silently and quickly. Keeping his head down as though in prayer still, Sebastien cast his senses out to see what he faced.
Werewolves. Likely SilverBack werewolves. They had iniated a hostile takeover against other supernaturals, killing vampires, elves, other shifters and even faeries. However, they had not faced the likes of him--a Soulless. He heard a wolf approaching and spun, pulling out his blade and cutting off it's head. Hot blood fountained all over him, but he did not care. That's when the werewolves swarmed the Soulless, though it was clear his presence bothered them as it did many others.
"Die foul Soulless!" one of the screamed as he brought his blade down to cut off Sebastien's arm. Sebastien dodged the move and kicked the male in the stomach with every ounce of strength he had. The werewolf flew the entire length of the room and vanished outside. The warrior had no time to track the movement as more wolves slashed at him, struggling to land even one blow, even though it was eight-to-one.
"You think you can beat me?" Sebatien asked in his monotone. "I defeated three hundred Spartans without breaking a sweat. You are nothing."
"It's good we have an ace up our sleeve then, isn't it?" one of the wolves snarled, throwing a sparkly black powder into Sebastien's face. It blinded the Soulless instantly, causing his eyes to burn with pain and water in an attempt to get rid of the Blindshade. But even blind he managed to cut two more werewolves down by slicing one in half and the other through decapitaion. Then he felt a sharp pain piercing his chest and knew a blade had penerated his heart.
In a far away castle of over-gilded opulence, a crystal containing a single blue flame fell to the floor and shattered, releasing the flame. It vanished to a feminine scream of angry denial.
In the temple of Zeus, the flame reappeared and moved into Sebastien Stalin's mouth, forcing his head back. And for a few moments, he was truly Sebastien, and he did not waste his time. He looked up at his killers, just a group of hazy figures to his damaged eyes. But he did not need to see them.
"A curse on the evil of the SilverBack wolves, my soul will not rest until you have been brought down, I swear it by my god Zeus here in his temple! You will fail," the last few words were two voices, filled with authority and power. Sebastien's eyes glowed white, giving off lightning sparks as he glared at them. Then, the lights faded as he fell back, blood spreading around him in a slow pool. The werewolves left, after stealing his fine warrior's blade, not caring about his final words. The last thing Sebastien saw, was the stone face of Zeus, staring down at him. He closed his eyes. A final sigh.
Sebastien Stalin was dead.