I think I might actually do away with my usual jab at people doing half-arsed disclaimers by including an actual disclaimer based off the Australian system. It's too annoying to do without an actual computer.

The Painted World

Autumn. The last soul I need. The soul of one of the mythical Maidens. My experiences in Vala so far have lead me to find it ridiculous if anyone still believes something is a myth. The mere existence of the Drawn World aids in that regard. Still I approach the iron doors that lay at the bottom of the stone elevator. Draped across my shoulders, fashioned into an admittedly light yet durable steel plate armour lies a white cloak. A final gift of the White Dancer for saving her daughter. The cloaks hood is drawn to cover my head. On my left arm I wear a keepsake. A reminder of the one who freed my from the North Atlas Asylum so long ago. A reinforced Arc Kite Shield. In my right I wield the Shrouded Cleaver. The pilfered spoils from Belladon, keeper of the Faun soul.

I push open the heavy doors, revealing the stained black fog beyond. Leading to Autumn, the last soul I need. The soul of the Cindered Maiden. I bow my head and step through. I know how long I have waded through the black. It may only be a scant few steps from one side to the other, but to me it felt like centuries. I open my eyes and raise my head once I have reached the other side. I gaze upon the arena. A high ceiling with no apparent end. The room itself is rounded with a wide strip in the middle no bigger than five metres for our fight, and two deep pits on either side. And sitting at the other end of the room was her, the Cindered Maiden.

"Ah," her voice wafts over, "Whom is this?" Her head is cast in shadow, an amber eye visible within the darkness. "Are you?" She laughs. "Art thee an arrogant fool. Doth thou think you can beat me? Kill me?" She laughs again. Her voice is soft with a bitter edge. A voice that commands respect. She stood at that moment. She stepped down from her throne, shoes clacking against the tiled floor. Bringing her into the light. If I had a working libido then I might have even found her somewhat alluring.

I had found, discovered since my freeing from the Asylum and my killing of the Corrupted Paladin Demon, one of them at least, that with each passing day, or what constitutes a day, I had become more lucid. My thoughts felt less shrouded and more free, the very act of thinking felt less laborious to my mind.

She continued her pace, measured steps placed one after the other. "It hath truly been so long since I had a plaything to burn." She flared a ball of flames in her left hand. I could only stare. The size of the flame was...pitiful. I could conjure greater flames with my pyromancy. Did she truly believe that to be intimidating? I started walking towards her.

"Or hath thou become lost?" A smirk graced her face, "Poor little lost fool. Thou shalt never match my strength." She continues to walk. I make no pauses in my stride. "I shalt give thee one chance." We are a mere metre apart now. She looks down at me. "Kneel. And I shall make your suffering last a decade and not a century." She laughs again.

...No.

I recognise what her voice is now. It does not command respect.

It screams for attention.

Her threats are hollow.

Her powers are weak.

Her arrogance is overwhelming.

"So little fool? Shalt thee run? Or shalt thee di-" she looks down. I had grown tired of her desire to hear her own voice and ran her through with my blade. She crumples to the floor. I look down at her body. Already it is cracking into ash and floating away. After all her postulating about herself I expected something more...substantial. It was however a rather nice change of pace from the attempt, die, attempt, die, attempt, die, attempt, kill them that I hade encountered before. That cycle was like a constant turning pinwheel.

I waited, her corpse laying there. Odd. I felt no rush of power, no absorption of souls. Soon though my prize revealed itself. The Autumn soul. Before I could claim it however. It flowed off the side of the arena and into the pit. My shoulders slumped. The ground rumbled beneath my feet and from the pit came a sound akin to a roar. Within a second a body came rising out of the pit. Molten eyes trained on me, an angered expression marred her face. She spoke.

"I will kill you." Hatred was palpable on every word.

One name floated through my mind at the sight of the woman.

Amb, the Fallen Maiden.

I sighed. And for the first time in what must have been centuries I spoke. My voice coming out raspy.

"...Gods damn it..."

A spear of fire pierced my chest.

Truly, the hardest part about this is having to go through and get rid of the italyics system used on SpaceBattles and go through each individual word and hit the italyics promt to redo it.

Hope you have a nice day.