Ariel eyes are black, filled with Magic and Power. Her hair stained with the blood of her enemies, red, blue, green.
Mefistofel's eyes are red, filled with the Rage of the Beast. His sword broke at the tip. Blood covers his raven hair, scattered in the air. His fangs showing their full length, stained with blood.
The fight is still raging from the top of a hill, where a hooded figure stands. A tall figure, holding a staff.
Dragons obey its commands, the Elements of rain, ice and snow all come to his call.
Arthion runs as fast as he can, with not much energy left, to aid his companions.
The winged creatures fly towards the hooded man, growling their rage and fury.
Not many dragons left now, their saddles are empty on their back.
Arthion reaches Mefistofel's side and they fight together.
Blood scattered on the ground, fire falling from the sky, beasts and humans fighting side by side.
Mefistofel sees the hooded figure from a distance and something about it is frighteningly familiar.
-Mefistofel!-
Mefistofel looks at Arthion with an interrogative look, Arthion already knows the question.
-I don't know who that figure is, but I feel Great Power coming from it. He's not one of us, he's something.....more. He commands dragons and Elements. He looks so familiar....-
-Can we kill him?- Mefistofel voice has a hint of impatience. All he wants to know is how to kill his last enemy.
-I don't know! I have never felt such Power before, but it was before Man was created. Whoever this being is, must be as old as I am.-
Who could be as old as the Arthion? Who could hold so much Power?
It was no time to think. It was time to fight!
Beasts are now failing on the ground, defeated and exhausted.
Werewolves are dead, some didn't change into their human form. Too long into their animal form has exhausted their ability to change back.
They die burnt alive, stabbed into the heart, chopped to pieces.
The winged creatures are failing, their forces are losing.
They are running out of Power.
Their leader is the biggest one of all, his wings spread so wide to cover a person, his eyes crimson red, his fangs long and sharp. His claws are powerful enough to tear a body in half.
His companion is slimmer, long raven hair, eyes white as the winter moon, so beautiful and lethal.
Their claws dirty with the blood of their enemies.
-My love! We are losing! Too many of us have died! We must retreat!-
-NO! We will not leave the battle until the last one is dead! We will not be defeated!
-We are losing our kind!-
-Our kind is strong! We will not be defeated!-
Gasping for air, the winged creature looks at her lover with desperation. Looking around her there's nothing but Death.
Her wings open, they lay low, almost on the ground, her eyes are filled with tears and blood.
Where her lover sees victory, she sees Death.
"It's our doom......"
Ariel, Mefistofel and Arthion are getting closer to their enemy. They are fighting their way to the hooded enemy.
The closer Arthion is getting, the more he feels some connection with the figure.
"Why do I know you? Who are you? Where is your Power coming from?"
All these words echo in his mind like pieces of glass.
With little Magic he has left, Arthion launches an attack to his enemy, distracting his attention from the Dragons. As the figure fights Arthion's Power, Arthion gets closer and closer to his enemy.
Few feet away.
Few inches away.
The gap between the two bolts of Energy is getting slimmer.
A Red Energy emanates from the hooded man.
A Blue Energy emanates from Arthion.
Even on his last leg, Arthion Power is so strong to illuminate the field for a few miles. His eyes are coloured with blue and red sparks. The sparks coming are burning the ground.
Arthion hands are getting burned, his nails are becoming charcoal.
But he won't give in.
The sparks of the Power partially illuminate the shadow hiding under the hood.
Deep eyes, dark hair, white stripes og long age. The weight of Centuries in those eyes.
It cannot be......
Arthion's fear of recognising that shadow became more and more frightening by every inch he got closer.
A final blast of Power throes both of them on the ground, blowing the hood from the man's face.
Weak and on the ground, Arthion uses every drop of energy left to lift himself up. His muscles are too exhausted for his own body.
The hooded man stands with his back to Arthion.
His long raven hair, the white stripes of old age.
He slowly turns around, his fangs exposed and locked tight. A beast threatening a rival beast.
His eyes crimson blood.
His pupils wide with hunger and thirst.
His face skinny, corpse-like.
The deep eyes, the weight of the Centuries.
He looks at Arthion. Straight into his eyes, into his soul.
But the realisation of his enemy identity comes more profound than any Death he's endured in the Millennia he lived.
Pain and sorrow have replaced exhaustion and grief.
-No.... Not you!- his sword falls on the ground.
-Yes, brother. Me! Has it been so long that you have forgotten my name?-
Arthion looks at what once was his brother, millennia before, in a world so different from the one he left behind, yet so similar to the one he is fighting for.
-Why? Why you?-
For every word, he takes a step closer to Arthion.
-We were brothers once. In a world very distant from this one. We are the same race, yet different.... evolutions. We are the same blood. We are the same Ancient ones. We fought together, side by side, in the Great War, and the War before that, and All the Wars before that. You know who I am, just say my name, brother.-
Arthion opens his mouth, unable to make a sound. The name is echoing so loudly in his thoughts, it's hurting him deeply into his very soul.
For every step he takes towards Arthion, his face expression almost changes into begging, for only a second.
The brothers are standing face to face.
-I can hear your thoughts, Arthion. Say my name! Say it! Say it.....-
-Feldor.....-
That sound of that word was a thousand daggers stabbing Arthion's heart and soul.
Ariel and Mefistofel see the event unfold before their eyes. They refuse to believe what they are seeing.
The Ancient Master, the one who thought Mefistofel and his brothers everything is now standing in front of them, he's controlling Dragons and he's fighting his own brother.
-No.... It cannot be......-
-What is happening?-
Ariel's words fall to deaf ears as Mefistofel cannot believe and doesn't want to believe his own eyes.
He buried Feldor in the deep of the forest, he sealed the room with stones and Magic.
Someone broke in. Someone did this. Someone knew.
