The Whisper of the Nightingale

Chapter 80: Death's Door

One word.

That was all it took.

In that instant, all sound in Raven's vicinity was gone. The sky was still pitch black and the blood tainted air currents that swirled around Raven were still as violent but now moved as if in slow-motion, and not a single sound was heard.

The image of how that soundless wind caused Raven's clothes and midnight purple hair to sway around her, while those blood-red eyes of hers shone like two embers from hell, would give even the most hard-skinned and coldblooded of men nightmares for the rest of their lives - and that was not counting the supreme aura of death that surrounded her, seemingly forbidding life itself to exist in her presence.

Meanwhile, further north - almost at the very top of the continent - Fenris had already returned to his grandchild's side when he suddenly felt a tremor in his soul.

Without hesitating, Fenris scooped up his grandchild and deployed his strongest protective barrier around them both, thoroughly sealing them inside. Not sure what had caused his reaction, Fenris intently looked out over the surrounding area, trying to locate the source.

Noting his grandfather's behavior, the white, fox-like creature in his arms looked up at him with clear-blue eyes, clearly confused by what was going on.

"Is something wrong, grandfather?"

Fenris shook his head and didn't reply.

'Did I just feel . . . afraid?' he questioned himself in shock as his gaze drifted towards the south.

Hundreds of miles away, at the very heart of Sky City, two vicious eyes flashed open amidst the flowing water stream within the central peak. The eyes fixed their gaze north with a profound stare that seemed to pierce through the numerous mountains in their path.

They looked on in silence, intrigued by what they saw.

Despite these wide-spread reactions, not many were close enough to feel the actual force of Raven's unprecedented killing intent. Except, for a few.

At the bottom of the ravine, Javelin felt a sudden deathly presence weighing down on him, suffocating him to the point where even his heart had a hard time beating.

Images of blood and carnage flooded his mind as more dead souls than he could count seemed to swarm him; pulling and clawing at his soul, as they called for him to join them - to die with them.

Minute fissures started to spread over the surface of his normally red soul prism which now seemed to grow duller by the second. In agonizing pain Javelin collapsed on the ground, wailing a soundless howl.

Oddly enough he wasn't afraid, not in the least, but he was in pain. It was a pain that surpassed anything he had felt previously and before he knew it, Javelin was hoping - begging even - with all his heart that those dead souls would get their wish; that he would die.

Suddenly, just as Javelin's soul was at its uttermost limit, a soft light spread around him, encasing him within. At once, Javelin's vision cleared as the overbearing feeling of death withdrew from him. That soft, nurturing light filled his soul with warmth and a sense of security, and it didn't take long before Javelin's soul prism was once again bright red.

Collecting himself from the shock, Javelin glanced down at his wrist. There, his blue and gold bracelet was humming softly as wave after wave of gentle light pulsed out to strengthen the membrane around him.

"Raven. . . ." he whispered before abruptly snapping his head upwards, facing the top of the ravine. "Raven!" he called again, shouting it in panic this time, but as he got up on his feet and took a step towards the mountain wall a burning sensation seared at his forehead, forcing Javelin's body to stop in place.