Friendship. An everlasting bond. An assertion that friends will follow you to the ends of the world. Yet, the bond cuts two ways. And I was bound, oblivious to the fact that I was travelling down the road of damnation.
I had known him since childhood. Sleek, raven hair, a sharp, pointed nose, and deep grey eyes. He was older than me by a mere few months, yet it seemed like he was a teacher, guiding me through my bowman training.
We had moved over to Henesys when I was just a few years old. I had just completed my Maple Island training, and brimming with confidence, I had opened the door to Athena Pierce's abode, and she gifted me with some of her skills, like all archers before me.
It was then that I met Raphael. He was new, like me, yet he was much more proficient. He shot arrows with amazing velocity, and the damage was stunning. And apparently, our parents had gotten acquainted, so we hung out together and he was my mentor.
Then, my life was cast into turmoil when the Balrogs invaded. Some came from Ellinia, and some just charged out of the dungeons. Their fangs and claws struck terror everywhere. Pools of blood were scattered everywhere; it was like a toddler's paint workshop, but it was blood. Pure, crimson, blood.
Running back home, I checked my home for my parents. Then, I saw them, lying together on a bloody patch of earth. A Crimson Balrog was right in front of them, fangs dripping blood. Fury lit me from the inside, set my heart ablaze. I summoned Amazon's might, and unleashed an Arrow Rain of Infernos. I wished for the arrows to burn the damned Crimson Balrog alive, to kill that slayer of men, to set it on fire like my burning heart was.
As wafts of pungent smoke rose from its burning fur, I collapsed, on my knees, groaning. I was drained of energy; I didn't even know what I had just done. A pre-hunter slaying a Crimson Balrog? And with some strange skill no one knew of? My mind swam, my vision blacked out and the thud of my head on the floor was the last thing I heard.
As I fought my way through inky blackness to go back to reality, I heard Raphael's low murmur and saw my body being lifted up through my peripheral vision. Shortly after, I was fully conscious and realized I was lying on a bed.
Getting up, I found my Battle Bow. Then, a surge of emotions ripped through my mind like hails of arrows as the loss fully hit me. Waves of melancholy bent my knees, causing me to cry out, weeping. Salt globules cascaded onto the floor, causing dark stains, but I ignored them. My parents were gone forever, separated from me by an impenetrable barrier of death.
Then, Raphael entered the room, and I silenced myself and turned away, hastily rubbing away tearstains. My feet inched slowly towards the stains on the floor, covering them up, yet Raphael could see, and I could tell, as he looked at them with pity in his gaze.
"This is my guild," Raphael stated with some pride.
"Nice," I whispered softly. I didn't really trust my voice, though.
"Revan. Would you like to join it? We could really use another member," he asked,
I nodded my head, and he gave me a black wristlet, adorned with a winged, shapeless thing. The insignia of the guild. I wore it, and felt my powers increase greatly. I felt as if I could slay a hundred Balrogs, in fact. The wristlet seemed to pulse with my heartbeat, though. Rather… creepy.
III
After several years of training, I ascended to the prestigious rank of Ranger at the age of twenty. That day was the darkest day of my life, even darker than the day my parents were killed.
"Today is the day. The powers of the Higher Ones are growing greater. We shall swarm Ossyria today," Raphael declared at the morning gathering.
"What? Swarm Ossyria? What do you mean?" I asked, appalled.
"What, did you think this was a normal, pathetic, groveling guild set up for fun? This is a guild of necromancy. Of the Higher Arts," Raphael glared coldly at me.
"That emblem on your wrist is not some deformed creature. It's a Crimson Balrog. Like the one that killed your parents. In fact, that was my idea. Too bad you met me, oh pitiful orphan," he continued, every word striking home into my heart. This was impossible, I told myself, yet I knew that all of this was true. I had signed up, unwittingly, for a lifetime service to a dark guild. And the leader was my parents' killer. Damn him, I thought, Damn that bastard to hell.
I was pushed along by the other members as they swarmed towards the flying ship to Ossyria, now guarded by Balrogs. I didn't want to, but I was forced onto the ship.
Landing at Orbis Station, everyone charged out and massacred the entire fairy city. It wasn't like Henesys. It was much worse. Everything was set on fire as the Crimson Balrogs breathed flaming darkness at every building in sight. I tried tugging off the accursed Balrog wristlet, but it was stuck, and every time I tugged, it dug deeper into my wrist. So I was branded a murderer for life. Then, glaring at the laughing sadist, Raphael, I tried to shoot at him. My arrows just rebounded off him. He mocked my efforts disdainfully. Then, I realized the wristlet was tied to my life force, and it disallowed me to harm any guild members. So if I were to be a marked murderer for life, then I might as well make my life end now.
I summoned the fury deep in my heart again. As it consumed me, I used hatred's power to strike that bloody Raphael. As my literally flaming Strafed arrows flew, I stabbed my Maple Gandiva into my heart, and my vision blacked out once more, this time permanently. But all I felt was satisfaction, nothing more.
With my death, I slew Raphael. My parents were avenged. . .
