I stand before the vortex at my feet, a blade of immense power grasped in the confines my fingers. blood spreads across the chamber floor, within that pool of crimson liquid lies just one thing. A mask. As I stare into the swirling portal, I battle with my conscience. My sisters words echo through my head:
▒▓strike me down now with the sword of aeons, and you will become as powerful as jack dreamt of being. or cast it into the vortex, and its darkness will be gone forever. So what will you do, little brother?▓▓ one half of me begs me to spill her blood, to gain ultimate power and reign over all of Albion. But the other side tells me not to give in, to cast it away, to spare Theresa▓s life as she has suffered enough throughout her life. She▓s the only family I have left, for only minutes ago, jack had slit mothers throat in order to gain the sword I hold in my very hand. And the sword itself, it to calls to me. It▓s hunger for blood insatiable having been sealed away since the end of the old kingdom. It too begs me to strike down my sister, to be able cleave through her to once again be soaked with blood, no matter who▓ se it is. I myself wish to be as powerful as archon himself. But is it really worth it? Should I cut down my own sister, who had her eyes sliced out all those years ago? Should I murder her in cold blood after all her years of suffering? I stare at the sword, it glows with thousands of years of dark power, practically drenched in the power of the old kingdom. I stare at the power of darkness, at the item which has brought so much suffering towards everyone I hold dear. I shake my head, and cast it into the vortex. I can practically hear the swords screaming, which ends as quickly as it begun.
▒▓Their both where they belong now. Lost forever. I think its time I found where I belong. I know it isn▓t here. Farewell little brother.▓▓ I hear her leaving as I continue to stare into the portal, her footsteps echoing throughout the chamber. I leave shortly after, where I can finally rest. Before I leave, I kneel over and grab the one thing I may remember all this by, the trophy I may take to prove that it is all over. The mask of Jack of Blades. I now leave the guild, with the knowledge that I may one day rebuild the ancient structure, the one true place of refuge for anyone in Albion. Maybe someday, but not today.
I step out to the thunderous cheers of the people of Albion, but to them I pay no heed, as I simply walk along the stone path, trying to figure out some new purpose to my life┘..
The end
