HEXEN

...Betrayal...

Parias approached the corridor entryway having destroyed the chaos serpents guarding it. His hands stung as the firestorm spell he wielded burned violently in his palm, ready to claim it's next victim.

Beyond this corridor lay the crypt of his old master Traductus, who along with the other leaders of Cronos sacrificed the world in exchange for eternal life. So many people, who followed the church without question, betrayed by their once-honored leader. Traductus had sold both his loyal followers and his own clergy out to the fiendish serpent rider, Korax.

Parias felt a deep anger that spawned hatred against Traductus for what he had done.

A hatred that burned so powerfully, the sting of the firestorm was nothing to him.

Parias entered the corridor, passing the stained glass windows that illuminated the way until he came to a wall with no features of any sort. A dead end.

Pausing for a moment and taking a few steps back, Parias felt a tile sink beneath his foot, followed by a loud click resonating from the walls. Parias looked down to see the floor was literally moving downward. A lift, much like the one he found in the cemetery.

The lift traveled down to an intersection between two more hallways where a floating humanoid garbed in a green and blue hooded robe hovered in the rightmost hall. It arms were raised, with a green light shining in front of it.

"A bishop!" Parias rolled evasively into the other hall before the bishop fired a beam of green energy from it's hands. He looked towards the hall and saw more of them coming towards him.

He had to think up a strategy, and thought it up quick.

Reaching for his belt, Parias pulled a green potion from it and threw it towards the incoming bishops. The potion exploded into a poisonous gas upon impact, causing a small diversion for Parias to make his next move. He looked over to the intersect from whence the other bishop came from and saw there were two more joining it. With the firestorm spell still equipped, Parias lashed his hand towards the bishops and summoned a powerful fireball that systematically destroyed them all.

After the smoke settled, Parias turned to see that the potion he used earlier had killed some of the bishops, leaving one still alive but severely weakened. Parias reached for his mace and finished it off, than moved on.

Parias ventured forward with his staff at the ready. He came to a turn where more bishops were waiting, prompting him to get back behind the wall. The green energy burst came dangerously close to hitting his arm, but it quickly died off giving him his advantage.

He fired multiple rows of acidic magic from the staff towards the bishops, scoring direct hits and destroying them with little effort.

Only a solitary Ettin remained, the same type of monster that Parias had already battled numerous times during his adventure, a brown, two-headed beast wielding a mace and donning heavy armor.

This one was no more of a challenge to him and was effortlessly defeated.

It is here that Parias found himself between two doorways, one of them to his right, a large heavy door with the symbol of the church emblazoned upon it, while the leftmost door was wooden and appeared to be much lighter.

The left door led to a room with three switches. Parias pulled the middle switch, disregarding the others, and heard the doorway behind him begin to open. There inside that room, was the tomb of his master, Traductus.

Parias felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he entered the tomb. The air was dense with moisture emanating from the wet stone walls, the ground was littered with broken stained glass from the shattered windows. Readying his firestorm spell in one hand and carrying the staff in his other, Parias approached the crypt where Traductus slumbered, when suddenly, a rumble of thunder from above shook the crypt, the storm outside began to intensify, then without any prior warning, a crash of lightning came down upon the crypt, shattering the window above it,

and from the broken seal upon the tomb, rose Traductus, reawakened.

The cold shiver in Parias' spine worsened as Traductus stepped down from the broken seal and approached him.

"Hello Parias. It has been a long time." Traductus said, meeting Parias face-to-face.

"I was hoping it would've been longer, that we would not have to meet again so soon…"

Parias responded. "…But I must uphold what is right when no-one else will."

He added, averting his gaze.

Traductus only shook his head at first, but then replied.

" You have forgotten what I have taught you during my time as patriarch. Remember, eye contact when addressing your master."

"Traductus, you are no longer my master!" Parias said with a growing anger.

" The patriarch I once knew followed the book and encouraged others to do the same!

You have betrayed the trust of not only the people of Cronos, or the clergy, but indeed the lord himself as well! What you've done cannot be forgiven, so I have come to put an end to the reign of this Serpent Rider you now work for!"

Traductus began to laugh. He didn't believe what he was hearing. His own student was aiming towards the destruction of Korax, the high power that gave him eternal life and command over the Wraithverge, the weapon in his grasp.

"What does that mean? Do you plan to kill me? After all that I've taught you, you are going take my life?"

"If I must…" Parias said coldly as he readied the Firestorm.

"Ha! You cannot kill me!" Traductus gloated. "When Zedek, Menelkir and I traded Cronos to Korax, he gave us eternal life in return! The power to live forever! What makes you so sure you could ever kill me?"

Parias thought for the moment. Though Traductus had been given eternal life, the likes of which was a greater power than anything Parias had on his person, he was still vulnerable, unable to regenerate from wounds. The downside to this was that the years of being alive for so long have made Traductus stronger, therefore more resilient to harm.

Parias had to make due with what he had. His mana supply was dangerously limited, and his mace might not be enough for this battle, but the fate of Cronos depended on his victory.

"Face me, Traductus!" Parias finally said. "Your eternal life will not protect you forever!"

"Very well, you sniveling little wretch…" Traductus said smirking. "It's time for your worthless endeavors to end."

With that, Traductus disappeared into a gray cloud, and from it emerged a legion of ghosts flying in every direction. Parias tried to evade them, but they proved too quick for him. He could feel his soul getting torn apart by the ghosts as he tried diving behind a wall. He used the firestorm to ward them off, whilst firing the serpent staff in his other hand towards Traductus.

The evil patriarch swung the Wraithverge to summon more ghosts, and then rushed off to the side to avoid the incoming bursts from Parias' staff. Parias tried to stop Traductus' run by throwing a fireball towards his path, but Traductus disappeared again, so too did the ghosts.

Parias caught glimpse of a piece of ornate metal on the ground. It looked like part of the Wraithverge's handle. Perhaps it was broken off after he cast the fireball.

There wasn't much time to think, as Traductus reemerged and shot a ball of red magic towards Parias, who promptly dodged. More ghosts emerged from whence the ball impacted and began to attack Parias.

Summoning his firestorm to ward the ghosts off, he got back up and saw Traductus preparing to cast another red magic cluster. Parias redrew his serpent staff and fired at Traductus, who dodged and crouched to the ground, lunging himself towards Parias and knocking him over.

With his hand clasped around Parias' neck, Traductus raised the Wraithverge and readied a red magic cluster to kill the cleric, but Parias, thinking quickly, brandished his mace and kicked Traductus off of him with both feet. Parias got up and raised his mace, while Traductus placed his Wraithverge in front of him in a blocking position. The mace struck the Wraithverge with great force, severing the handle from the cross that adorned the top.

With the pieces of Wraithverge still in his grasp, Traductus looked at the cross and noticed that it was still glowing. It could still be used.

Parias lifted his mace again and prepared a killing blow for Traductus, completely unaware of the cross still being able to work. Before his blow could be struck, Parias was stabbed in the chest by Traductus and the sharp broken piece of Wraithverge's handle.

The pain caused Parias to collapse as Traductus aimed the cross at him.

"You poor, deluded fool…" Traductus said as he picked the cross up and charged another cluster.

"You thought you had the power to defeat me, when you barely had enough to take down that wooden dummy back in your days as an altar boy."

A devilish smirk began to etch across Traductus' face as the cluster grew bigger.

"I never expected anything from you, Parias! You were always the weak one! Whatever power you wield will never be enough to destroy me!"

Just as the cluster reached it's limit, Parias noticed a familiar etching on one of the pieces of glass. It looked just like the symbol of repulsion, an ancient relic that was used to ward off evil spirits.

This could be the only chance. Traductus readied the cluster as Parias grappled for the glass.

"My power may not be enough to destroy you, Traductus!" Parias exclaimed.

"But yours IS!" With a yell of sheer zeal, Parias flung the symbol in front of him like a shield.

The cluster hit the glass, causing it to shatter. Parias took a defensive position, readying the firestorm, but to his expectation, the ghosts went after Traductus instead.

Traductus, appalled and terrified, was lifted by the spirits into the air. He looked down at Parias with a menacing, hateful glare.

"You TRAITOR!" Traductus screamed.

"How could you have come to betray me like this!"

"No, Traductus…" Parias said coldly.

"It was YOU who betrayed US."

Traductus could only fidget as his screams were muffled by the spirits, and before Parias' own eyes, Traductus' skin turned a deathly white and then gray before it rotted off his bones.

The ghosts vanished afterwards, and Traductus' skeleton collapsed into dust.

All fell silent afterwards.

Parias got up slowly, cradling his wound. He remembered one of the flasks he collected before coming here and drank one down to heal his wound.

A feeling of both accomplishment and sorrow came over Parias. It's true that Traductus had become evil and had to be destroyed, but it still troubled him to be forced into killing his own mentor who took care of him for nearly his entire life.

But the deed is done, Traductus is dead, and yet the real threat behind all of this still lives.

Parias looked at the pieces of the Wraithverge that he carelessly shattered during the battle.

Then, he got an idea, and he got one quick.

Placing the pieces in their original places, Parias used the firestorm spell to try and weld the pieces back together using heat from his hand.

"It worked!"

The Wraithverge had been restored to it's original form and was still as functional as ever.

The road ahead was almost coming to an end. Having conquered the many hardships thrown his way, Parias was ready to take on the last few obstacles that held the fate of Cronos and it's people on an unsteady balance.

…May the divine one watch over him…

END