Note: Switching up the order here, as the villains are the ones that shall be highlighted first before the side characters in this catching up section. Plus, I'm going to give some more history and interaction between the villains and their servants, as well as some history for those that didn't really get any.

There will be references to Final Fantasy lore, specifically for the Dragon Lord, yet it'll tie into a tale Riesz was told when she was young. And some history of the Dark Majesty will begin here, as I've expanded his backstory a bit, as well as his connection to Belladonna.

I plan on making each relationship between villains and their subordinates different from each other, as I feel that given the heroes aren't going to see them for a while, they need to have some distinction from the others, and if you know some of their backstories, things like that need to be implemented.

That said, I hope you all enjoy!

Dark Desires

Once again, he was forced to go back with nothing, Koren cursing both the situation and himself, still unable to walk straight from the 'disciplinary' measures delivered to him by his Lord. Blood trickled down from his chin, and he swore he had lost a few teeth. Sure, his Lord would give him some dragon flesh to consume, he had more than enough to spare, yet it would do little to lessen the blows to his ego.

The knight's punishment, however, was far worse. He had not seen it himself, and there would be no physical marks left on either him or his armor, yet Koren knew well that there were worse things than teeth and claws to rake and tear at your flesh. What the body would normally perish from, the mind could go on and on and on. And even now, since he had been teleported to the Lord's realm on this vast, barren island, the Darkshine Knight had been with his Lord for what Koren had assumed to be hours, the sun probably merely moments away from rising. Even if he had clearance to leave and enter without worrying about any potential harm from the natural denizens of his Lord's home, the red wizard far from cared for traveling through the winding caverns teeming with dangerous life, and the outside was no better. He should know, having nearly been killed by them upon his first arrival here.

Yet since then, his enemies had fallen with ease by his hand. The vulnerable, deluded soldiers of Valsena to the very beasts that rested here, he could conquer them all. So why was that young man proving to be so much trouble for him? Him and Valda's...ugh, dear daughter. The seemingly unkillable nuisance and unbearable, privileged wench. True, there were others that had joined them, yet they mattered not in comparison to those two.

'Perhaps it would be a bit unfair to knock ALL of the teeth out of your mouth.' he remembered his Lord saying to him as he lay bloodied and bruised on the ground. 'He is Loki's son after all. And the fact you went after the Stone, and subsequently, Loki's son is telling, when you were also supposed to search for the Egg. Of which, yet again, you abandoned, retreating at the first sign of trouble.'

Loki...one of the heroes of the Peddan War, an ally of the wielder of the Mana Sword at the time, Roget, and friend to that pathetic king when he was just a prince. And his dear 'queen' an inexperienced princess that had just been made an orphan. But that damned boy's relations didn't matter to him. He had nearly bested him time and time again, and the boy would've died by his hand had there not been some other factor that intervened at the last moment. Each and every time...no matter what his Lord said, it wasn't his fault.

'Of course not.' his Lord said. 'It's NEVER your fault, Koren. It wasn't your fault that you chose to retreat rather than slay Richard when the little prince was still injured. And it wasn't your fault that the golems, of which, were approved by you for operation, exploded on the bridge linking Valsena to Maia and Beiser. And it especially wasn't your fault that you ran like a coward on your first attack on Valsena. Oh no, none of that was your fault.' then, his Lord grinned, displaying rows of human-like, yet unnaturally sharp teeth. 'You are, after all, just a boy. Just a scared, inexperienced boy.'

No. No, no, no, no, no! No, he wasn't scared! Not anymore! He had the magic to put everything here to shame! No creature could stand against him now! He had all of Altena and its supposedly 'wise' queen in the palm of his hands! It was all at his command! What did he have to be afraid of?! It was that damn boy's fault! He and the princess! An overconfident fool compensating for his lack of strength with sheer aggression, and a pathetic, spoiled creature who flounced around like a harlot! At least he could give some credit to the boy for his bravado, yet that whore was nothing more than that! And yet she had everything since birth! So what if the two now had the power of a couple of Elemental Spirits? It changed nothing in Koren's eyes. That boy and his slut of a princess would still die by his hand and his hand alone!

And then...then he would see who was truly the boy. The scared, inexperienced boy.

It was then that finally, at long last, he saw the knight emerge from the blackened maw that led to his Lord's chambers. He seemed to be unharmed, yet he was walking slowly, robotically. Something had changed from before. As if nothing lay within the armor but a husk of a man, or maybe not even that.

Then, he heard footsteps, his Lord emerging from the darkness, still heavily cloaked in shadows though. "Answer me this, Koren, and answer honestly." his Lord said. "Is it true that there are others that seek to open the Mana Holyland?"

"Yes," Koren answered. "A woman calling herself Belladonna, and she says that she serves a being called the 'Dark Majesty'."

His Lord pondered what he had just heard, silent for a good while. Then, finally, he spoke. "Koren, and my dear...Darkshine Knight," he directed his attention to the motionless suit of armor, a smirk on his features. "You are to head to Altena. Make haste, for if what you say is true, then other forces will attempt to beat us to the Stones." he didn't say it, yet his look more than spoke for itself. They were to go. Now. Yet before he went, his Lord reached and tore off a small bit of skin, tossing it in Koren's direction. "That shall take care of you for the time being."

Despite his disgust, the blonde wizard picked up the small piece of flesh and, hesitantly, popped it into his mouth, the taste awful, yet as he chewed, he could feel the effects already. His Lord shot him a lot, demanding some recognition for his act of 'kindness'. "Thank you, dear Lord." Koren answered.

"Now go. Both of you." his Lord then turned away. "And blood must not only be spilled, but the Benevodon must have its offering." he walked back into the darkness, listening in as he heard his servants depart. He then stopped. "Koren, wait." the wizard paused, looking back. "Even now, you seem insistent in Valda's daughter being the sacrifice."

Koren nodded. "There is none more perfect than she for the ritual." he said, disdain for the young woman coursing through his speech.

Despite his failure, the figure in shadow couldn't help but smirk at his servant's hatred for her. "Are you sure? For, if what you've told me is true, then she has gained the ability to conjure spells."

"Yes…" the blonde wizard wasn't sure where his Lord was going with this. "And why should that matter? Her use of her newfound magic is poor at best. Even that boy put up a better fight than she did."

"Yet she was able to damage my Darkshine Knight. Not make him fall, but damage nonetheless. One that not even the little prince Richard could make a scratch on." the shadowed figure let out a low, rumbling growl. As if he had spotted something tasty. "Why don't you keep her around for just a bit more?"

"What?" Koren was befuddled. "What are you saying? Do you actually see value in that vain, spoiled harlot?"

"Yes. For you." his Lord said. "Though my flesh may not be pleasant to taste, it does serve its purpose, yes? You gain some of my healing prowess from me." Koren nodded. "Well, think. You may not believe it, but that girl is still Valda's daughter. And if she had begun to present skills in magic, then I wouldn't be too eager to do away with her so soon."

"What do you suggest?"

"Isn't it obvious?" his Lord rhetorically asked. "Wait. Wait until she is ripe and prime. When she has harnessed her skills." Koren was suddenly realizing what he was saying. "Then...pluck her." he then licked his lips as if to leave no doubt as to what he meant.

The Crimson Wizard was left speechless. "L-Lord." he stammered. "My Lord, you must be joking." he knew well he wasn't, yet the thought of what he had suggested was just so...repulsive. He only consumed what he was given out of necessity! Besides, it's not as if his Lord was the same species as him!

"The idea is taboo for you, I know, yet my kind believes that it is necessary to build your strength. From father to son, brother to brother, their strength will transfer to you if you make it a part of yourself...in more ways than one." his Lord still noticed Koren's revulsion. "Very well, do what you wish with her. But I tell you this so that there won't be as many...disciplinary sessions with you, Koren." he then turned away. "But we've already wasted too much time talking. Off with you to Altena." He disappeared completely, going into his personal chambers and he sat upon his 'throne', thinking of all that had passed, both currently and from times long ago.

While the Mana Stone was part of the main objective, if he had to be honest, his attention was mainly focused on that egg. The egg that lay in the home of the harpies. Despite their fierce nature and barbarism, he knew that they would guard that creature with their lives, knowing full well what lay inside. And while its parent might've been long gone, they wouldn't dare risk its potential wrath, both in this life and the next.

He wanted that egg destroyed, as he knew well what lay in it as well. For what lay inside was the last of a race of traitors.

From a time long ago, perhaps even that of the First World, the Father of all Dragons, Bahamut, sent the children of him and the beasts of the world to live among the other creations of the Mana Goddess. "Go in peace, for as you are creations of me and your many mothers, I am a creation of the Great Tree." was what was said to be Bahamut's command. "Kill what you only need to eat, yet do not be wasteful or lustful of blood. Living in harmony with those smaller and weaker, for your strength is meant to inspire and call men to arms for righteousness if need be. So says I, Bahamut, your father." It was then said that Bahamut then became one with the soil of the Mana Tree, buried underneath the roots, forever to serve as nutrients for the massive specimen of flora to ensure that it and all future incarnations would flourish.

In his humble opinion, the Great Father was a fool.

For what reason should his race live among those smaller than them in peace? Were not his kind made with powerful teeth to crush iron and wings to soar to the highest of heavens? Are they not the greatest of the soft hearted Goddess' creations? Impenetrable, unstoppable creatures they were, great and majestic, and they were to live in peace with those that were to be their prey? No, he refused to believe it. It was their right to be the top of all things from the food chain to that of rulers of lands and kingdoms. He remembered well with glee some tales from those that came before him. It was a popular practice amongst his people that shared this mindset that, in order to possibly stave off their wrath against the humans and lesser creatures, a sacrifice was to be made.

Specifically that of a young, beautiful, or handsome young one. While maidens were one thing, some choices were more tactical, for what was an army without their most skilled soldiers?

They were decorated with precious jewels and garbed in white as if this would perhaps make them more appealing to the flying beasts, and indeed, the sight of their forms draped in innocence and purity made the act of tearing their limbs from their bodies more satisfying, the white they wore soon becoming red. He himself had taken part in this ritual of his people, many fair maidens and young, able men becoming bloodied mounds of bone and meat as their bodies surrendered to his jaws. In fact, it was during one of these offerings that he had met the Golden Knight and little prince for the second and last time.

The Peddan War was only a means to an end for him and his people. The Peddans were advanced, yet they were still only human. And once they had thought the world was theirs, then his people would strike, and none of their technology or mastery over the mystic arts could save them.

Yet there was one distant relative of theirs, one that had, since the conception of the multitude of dragon races, that had refused to take part in such things. Rumored to have been tasked by the Goddess and their own father, Bahamut, to combat their kin in what was their natural behavior in ruling over those weaker.

They were the ones that infuriated him the most.

Yet many were wiped out, only a handful surviving from the First World, yet since then, they had seemingly increased in their efforts to war with their fellow dragons. Yet with their service to the humans, it came at a great cost. For as great as their valor was, simply put, there wasn't enough of them to withstand their kin. And now, there were even fewer than before. For all he knew, that egg was the last remaining specimen. And he would see to it that the line of traitors would end with it. The Benevodon inside the Stone would still be hungry, and the harpies would be slain, along with the amazons, should they also intervene.

And then...then his kind would take to the skies, blocking out the sun, and then descend upon the Earth.

Then, a new age would come.

The Age of the Dragon Lord.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful castle in a beautiful land.

The land was fertile and green, and the sun shone brighter on that place than any other. Thus, it was called the Castle of Light.

This land where the Castle lay had a King and a Queen, beloved by their people. They then had a son, the heir to the throne, who grew up to be a handsome young man, winning the hearts of every woman in the kingdom.

Regularly, they threw lavish parties and balls, inviting all to come and join in, food and drink plentiful and of the highest quality.

But every light casts a shadow.

For it was rumored that down below, down beneath the castle, the supposedly good King and Queen kept a prisoner. Hidden away from the light, never to see or feel the touch of any other living soul. Only kept barely alive, always hungry, always thirsty, always desiring the light.

At least, that was how the story went. How true it was, she didn't know, but young Belladonna was anxious to find out. It was easy enough to sneak into the ivory palace, she had always been able to 'persuade' people. She came dressed in a flowing, sleeveless gown of violet with a mask with the shape of a cat. The ball she had come to be that of a masquerade, several dressed in fancy attire and having their faces covered, everything from dogs and cats (like herself) to monsters like Chobin Hoods and rabites was present. The party-goers were joyous and merry, conversing, eating, drinking, gossiping, and overall displaying a distinct friendliness and amiability to each other, something of which Belladonna watched and observed. And lo and behold, but a few feet away were the King and Queen themselves, respectively masked as a lion and a unicorn, the King and Queen of Beasts.

'So this is how humans interact.' she thought to herself. 'It's no different than Mavoles really.'

Though she wasn't here for any of the refreshments or good conversation, though she certainly wouldn't turn it down, going over and helping herself to a few slices of sharp-tasting cheese and wine (as well as a few savory pastries), her main objective was to see if the rumors were true.

And the only way to see was to go down below where the rulers mingled with their people. Down to where perhaps not even the guards went down unless necessary. After all, as her grandmother said, no matter how bright the spirit, everyone, and everything casts a shadow.

"Ah, and what a fine flower." she suddenly heard, turning around to see a rather handsome young man. His hair was fine and golden, long and draping over his shoulders. He was dressed in white and bore the mask of a goat or ram with curved horns, the horns, and several markings and patterns upon the mask being that of gold. Belladonna couldn't help but admit that the young man was undeniably handsome. "I don't believe I've seen you before. For I would've remembered a face as lovely as yours."

What was he talking about? She had a mask on like everyone else. He then took off his mask, revealing a pair of warm, brown eyes, inviting and comforting. Yet Belladonna couldn't help but sense that it was a facade. She was one to talk, going around uninvited in this place, but still, it was more noticeable for a human. "I'm new around here," she said. "And frankly, that's all you need to know. I'm merely a lady who is seeking a good time."

"Then you shall find one here." he then bent down, inviting her to dance. She then realized that everyone else was taking partners, the music beginning to play a slow melody.

Well...since she was here...and he WAS quite a looker. Taking his hand, the two drew close to each other and danced along with the rest of the crowd, Belladonna even seeing the King and Queen joining in. She looked towards her 'date', who hadn't even bothered to put his mask back on, keeping it up and on his head, her eyes looking to hers that was still hidden behind a feline cover. As if he were trying to urge her to take it off and allow him to see her true face. Yet she wouldn't budge, keeping to having her face hidden away. While she realized she was being distracted, she couldn't deny that this man was fascinating. Firm, healthy body, bright eyes, amiable demeanor...and not too shabby of a dancer either. Still, this wasn't what she was here for, and thus, needed to try and find a way to excuse herself.

"Excuse me, your Grace?" an elderly voice then spoke, the young man looking over Belladonna's shoulder. "Your fiance has just arrived. Not that it's my business, but you know how your dear mother and father feel about Lisette."

This seemed to be far from joyous news, the young man quite annoyed with this. He turned to Belladonna, apologetic. "Excuse me, dear lady," he said, taking a moment to kiss her hand. "But I must be off for a second." he then went away, disappearing in the crowd.

'Good.' she thought. 'So do I.'

Once she snuck away from the partygoers, Belladonna found herself wandering the expansive, ivory halls, descending lower and lower until she reached a pair of doors. The guards were no problem for her, letting her in after they noticed how 'beautiful' she was, especially her eyes. She entered through and continued to descend downward, more and more, noticing how the white that covered most of the castle began to darken the further she went down. Still, she continued on, going on and on, the walls growing darker and darker.

'Huh, what do you know?' she thought. 'Even a place as beautiful as this has a dungeon.'

And in contrast to the area above, it was completely devoid of light, not even lanterns or torches lighting the halls. Thankfully, she had no problem seeing through the dark, her eyes honed and designed to navigate such environments. She searched the various cells, seeing that they were empty. Perhaps the King and Queen only had a dungeon out of precaution or necessity. Maybe they were as benevolent as she had heard they were.

At least, she thought that until she heard a small noise from afar.

"Hello?" a weak voice said. "Who's there?" he was confused, it wasn't dinner time yet.

Belladonna looked around, looking into each cell until she saw someone huddle in the corner of one at the very end to the left. It was a male human, that much she was sure of, thin, or rather, emaciated as if he were only alive in the technical sense. His hair was long, blonde, and stringy, his skin pale as if he had never seen the sun. He lifted his eyes, they being sunken in, and had severe bags under them.

"By Shade…" Belladonna said, having never seen a human in such a state. Hell, she didn't even know if it was possible for a human to look even more gnarled than a Mavole!

"Who are you?" the figure asked, slowly making his way towards the bars. "How did you get past the guards?" he then noticed her dress and mask. "Why would you come down here?" she was left without words upon looking at his condition. "Are...are you brother's fiance?" he then sighed. "It would fit that he would choose a woman such as you. Did he tell you about me so you could come down and mock me too?"

Belladonna was puzzled, not knowing a thing of what he was talking about, yet one thing he said caught her attention. Brother? Was that who she had seen up there? Yet, if her hunch was right, that had to be a high-ranking member in this kingdom, and her money was on it being the prince, the old man mentioning something about a 'mother' and 'father'. High nobles maybe, but he certainly LOOKED like a prince. But wait, she thought. If he was the prince, and this young man thought he was his brother's fiance...did that mean…

"Hey, who's there!?"

Shit! Belladonna immediately made her escape, hiding in the darkness and avoiding the guard that had come, noticing that he had a bowl of some sort of porridge inside. She was mainly fleeing also because she had realized just how much time had passed! Her mother, and especially her grandmother, would notice her absence for sure! She rushed up the stairs and down the halls she came from, making her hurried yet silent escape from the castle, knowing that she would need to do something about this dress as it was impeding her speed.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder, just who was that man in the cell, underneath the white splendor of the castle?

Present Time

While the castle's current state was something to behold, Belladonna couldn't help but miss the ivory columns and vibrant tapestries and paintings on the walls. True, its current look reminded her much of home, but the alien element of white was what drew her here in the first place.

At the moment though, she had more important things in mind than focusing on the decor of the place. "So," her dear Majesty said, face hidden in the shadows. "The Citadel of Laurent has been lost."

She lowered her head. True, the loss of it, as well as the amazons retaliating had always been a possibility, yet she never would've suspected that they would've had outside help, let alone the Mana Elementals on their side. "Regrettable, but it is so," Belladonna answered. "Yet rest assured, the Desert Fortress is still under our tight grip."

"No apologies needed." her Majesty told her nonchalantly. "The area is useless to us now," he said. "Besides, we still have the fortress, as you said. And we shall see how well the amazons fare against the denizens of Hell soon enough." he then rose from his throne. "Speaking of, have you yet located the Fire Stone?"

"No, my dearest Majesty, not yet." he raised a brow at how she addressed him, yet said nothing. It was the norm for her by now, her intentions clear. "The old fool seems to legitimately have no idea." she hissed in frustration. To think of the nights she spent with him, prodding and manipulating his mind, all the soft talk and hanging onto his arm...it disgusted her.

"And what of the escaped thief? Or the old fool's remaining child?" the shadowed figure questioned.

"The little princess has no idea either," Belladonna said. "Although, we are checking into dear Eagle."

"I thought you had killed him."

"Oh yes, I did." Belladonna licked her lips, remembering the taste of his blood on her tongue. "Yet, during my small sessions with his father, I decided to see what the dear Desert Prince was up to, he having grown leery of me, along with the dear little bird." She referred to Hawkeye. "He spoke little, seemingly in case someone was listening, yet I saw him scribbling and writing several notes as if he were researching something." she continued. "I didn't see much, yet one word I did manage to catch was 'gorge' and 'valley'."

"Gorge and valley?"

"Yes, Majesty." she and he were the only ones present in the castle, save for Majesty's other 'friends'. Malocchio was stationed back at the fortress, and probably going out on one of his routine 'hunts'. He could only hope he could control himself marginally well. Too many disappearances would be bad for everyone. And Jessica was off-limits. At least for now. "I have my suspicions, yet I must confirm it for sure. And to do that, I may need to send some of our dear comrades to investigate."

The figure nodded. "Do what you believe is necessary. If that is all, then go. You have work to do." he then began to move away, yet paused for a moment, a pain in his abdomen stopping him.

"Majesty?" Belladonna went to him, noticing how he held his stomach. "The aches are getting worse, aren't they?"

The Majesty nodded. "This body won't last much longer." he groaned. "The Mana Holy Land must be opened soon. And from what else you've told me, we have competitors on all sides now." he straightened his back up. "Go tend to your duties."

"...yes, Majesty." with that, Belladonna watched him go off, reaching out for him before she retracted her hand. "Though I couldn't help you in this...I could absorb some of your torment. All you must do is ask."

He heard this, yet still went on. Her intentions were good, yet she couldn't do anything. This path she had helped him down would come with some setbacks. Specifically that of his current shape. She didn't see it, yet didn't need to, already knowing his face well. He passed some of the sparsely lit sections of the castle, and should one be fortunate (or not, depending on how you see it) to catch a glimpse of the Majesty's face, they would've seen a young, rather handsome face. A face that would be befitting of a young prince…

Heath began to stir, noticing how the slab beneath him was feeling quite cold. His eyes fluttered open, seeing the same, dark ceiling and walls around him.

'So...it wasn't a dream.' he thought, steadily rising and getting up. He stumbled a bit, yet eventually found his footing.

This was almost routine by this point, he had woken up from whatever trance that masked man put him in only to then awaken and have himself be put under again. And each and every time, he was given a stern warning to not travel too far, as this place was supposedly 'dangerous'. Heath could agree with that, having seen quite a number of shadows of unnatural, wicked creatures roaming about, yet the man's voice was almost like he was correcting a child.

Charlotte...he wondered what that girl was doing now. He felt shameful that he hadn't even thought of her until now, his mind still feeling somewhat numb from the man's spell. He could only hope that she was all right, though, to his dismay, there was no way that she could go back to Wendel now. He could only hope that she would find her way to Astoria, the kind people there could surely help her. He also hoped that the beastmen would have no interest in her, assuming that she was nothing more than a lost child and therefore, wouldn't be of any concern to them. Sure, there was the possibility of her becoming a hostage...no. Heath shook his head. He couldn't afford to think that way, it would get him nowhere. Besides, if she WAS in trouble, what was he doing here thinking about it? She would surely need him!

He exited through the door and came to a familiar sight. A long, seemingly endless hallway lined with columns and stone statues that bore little to no light, the only source being that coming from the lanterns crafted into the peen block, the light an unnatural, cool blue. While it unnerved him, Heath had to admit that there was a certain beauty to it. The statues were in the shapes of men, nude save for a long cloth wrapped around their lower section and trailed along the stone platforms they stood on. They each bore pointed ears and a feather-like piece on their foreheads. Their eyes matched the very material they were crafted of, cold and distant. Yet he'd much rather deal with looking at the most grotesque of gargoyles than look into one of their eyes for too long, no matter how well crafted they were. Their eyes glowed the same, eerie blue as the lanterns, making it seem as if, despite their stillness, they were very much alive. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised Heath in the slightest if any of them just up and decided to move around.

Still, he had to press on, he had to find a way out of here. Not only for the Light Stone and Priest but for Charlotte.

Keeping his eyes down and only looking in any other direction when he absolutely had to, Heath continued to travel down the hallway, noting the various branching paths. This was always what kept him from going forward. All these pathways took him to what seemed to still be the same small section where the paths linked. And he had tried all of them, north, south, east, west, and the other four in between, and still found himself going nowhere. It didn't take him long for him to realize that whoever owned this place had no intention of letting him leave. Yet why? He wasn't a prisoner, his 'imprisoner' having spoken kindly to him in comparison to how he would've believed someone who captured him would speak. Still, that masked man's whereabouts bothered Heath. He was unharmed so far, yet he wasn't allowed to leave. And when he tried, he was always caught and subdued.

Just what was going on here?

Still, he continued on, determined to find some sort of difference in his surroundings to at least see if he had gotten anywhere different. On and on the young priest went, seeing no change in the environment...except when he found his thoughts wandering to Astoria. Particularly in whatever could've happened to the small, lakeside town. Jadd was but a short distance away, and the young man that had come to Wendel warning of the beastmen said that the people there didn't believe his claims of their invasion. Were they all right? Jadd being invaded, he could understand, as that was a port town and second only to Wendel in importance in the area. Not to imply their lives and less or more value, yet whenever travelers came to Jadd, it was mainly to pass through to get to Wendel. So anyone coming in would be subject to the beastmen's rule. And given the barrier, Astoria would've been left defenseless.

'Eminence…' Heath thought. 'I know your desire is to protect...and perhaps there WAS nothing we could do.' he clenched his fist. 'Still...should we have not tried something? I know that we men of the cloth are sworn to a life self-control, yet if lives are in danger…" he very well was near making use of his powers when that horrid jester figure put his disgusting tongue all over Charlotte.

It was then that he noticed an entryway. How he missed it, he didn't know, especially given that it was right in front of him. The space that lay through it was pitch black, Heath unable to make out any details. And had it not been for the sounds of distant crying and pleas for help, he wouldn't have stepped foot in there.

He broke through the thick darkness and came to what appeared to be the ruins of a small town. A small, very familiar town. The very town that had been in his thoughts. Heath's breath caught in his throat, knowing well where he now stood. Astoria had fallen. "N-No…" he stammered, eyes wide as he surveyed the damage around him. "This...how...how could they do this?" he felt rage building up within him. "How could they do this? To defenseless, innocent people?!" He tried to remember his teachings from the temple, of valuing and holding all forms of life as flawed, but nonetheless, bearing no hatred towards them. Yet now, seeing the carnage before him, he was more than ready to toss all that out the window. Creatures such as these... this men...no, these monsters...they deserved no forgiveness! No mercy! Not after something like this!

Suddenly, he heard stirring, turning back to see a darkened figure standing near the torn sign that welcomed any passerby into the town. "You…" Heath snarled, recognizing the shape as a beastman. Yet wait, he told himself. Just how had he ended up in Astoria from simply entering through an entryway? Speaking of, the entryway was gone, the path to the town and the dense Rabite Forest being all that was behind him. And these beastmen, more appearing around him, they appeared to look quite different to those that he had seen before. Their bodies...oh Goddess...their bodies were stained in blood, some of them bearing a satisfied grin on their faces. "You...you monsters." he couldn't contain himself any longer. "You beasts!" orbs of light formed in his palms. "Holy Bolt!"

From his hands blasted forth bolts of pure light, they tore through the visages of the beastmen, piercing through their stomachs or chests or wherever the beams hit. Yet despite how easily he went through them, surprising even himself at how, instead of blasting them back, they penetrated their bodies, more of them kept coming. Heath realized that these beastmen weren't those he was familiar with, let alone probably beastmen at all. In fact, the ones that had been struck down began to rise again, holes still in them, their movements becoming sluggish, and usually alert eyes glazed over. And, to his horror, it looked as if they were, somehow, beginning to decompose right in front of him and take on several unsavory features. Flesh sloughing off, bones able to be seen from open chests with organs that had long since stopped functioning, removed limbs and other parts, some having completely missing lower jaws that presented them with a gaping maw with a writhing tongue and foam developing around where their mouth was, making them look like a zombified, rabid animal.

Undead...they were undead!

Putting his powers to use, Heath continued to keep the beams of light coming, blasting and striking all that lay in his line of sight. And with each zombified beastman he hit, images of the burning town flashed in his mind. The charred wood, the smashed gardens, the destroyed homes...and he could only imagine what was going on when he still heard the screams that lured him here. All of this served to further fuel attacking the undead creatures, anger rising in the young priest. "I'll deal with you!" he shouted, power building within him. "I'll send you all to the grave where you belong! Where you will no longer trouble any living thing!"

A mass of light formed around the young priest, expanding outward and consuming all of Astoria, Heath only able to see white and feel fury at what he had seen. Then, slowly, the light began to dissipate, leaving a large amount of torn limbs and severed body parts at his feet, they quickly dissolved into bones, and those bones dissolved into dust. He was the only one left in the entirety of Astoria now. And was now ready to see the damage that he had done.

He was completely unaware of the large crater that he now stood in, seeing how some of the already destroyed homes had been reduced to no more than splinters, trees were blown back, and, to his dismay, the sights of forms trapped under piles of wood and stone indicated that not all of the citizens made it. Yet his mind was on the beastmen. What had he done? He went too far! Even if they were discovered to have been undead, he still wished to strike them down and end their lives. He...he wanted them dead. He wanted to kill them.

'Oh Goddess…' he cupped his hands over his mouth in horror. "Wh-What have I…"

He then heard something moving, looking to see some sort of figure had emerged from behind a destroyed, yet still somewhat standing house. They shifted and bent in odd angles as it moved forward as if its bones were dislocated and were constantly trying to get back in shape. Heath stepped back, yet to his terror, he saw more and more figures emerging from all around him, some from behind still-standing trees and the darkness surrounding them, yet some even rose from underneath the bricks and beams of wood that had crushed them, their forms being the worst of them all.

"Why…" a low, croaky voice moaned, Heath's eyes widening at the realization that these figures could speak. "Come sooner...why?"

It was then that he saw them for what they were: shriveled, grey bodies that barely resemble humans, bones broken, bent out of shape, or sticking through the skin entirely. Torn clothes were on their bodies, just barely covering up any rotting organs from view. Though that only applied to a quarter of them. Heath could see everything for many of them: broken jaws, torn-off ears and noses, some having eyes missing to having only one or none at all. The ones with only one unnerved him the most, as it seemed to be a pattern amongst them for the only remaining eyeball to be hanging out by a fleshy pink thread.

"Come sooner…" another voice hissed. "You should've...come sooner…"

Heath began to back up, yet felt more figures pushing him forward from behind. Where did they come from?!

"Left us…" a figure gurgled, his jaw broken. "Left...to die."

"Wendel betrayed us." another said, anger showing through despite his monotone speech.

"Didn't come…" a woman moaned, dragging her upper half across the ground. "Didn't come...no help...come…"

One figure looked Heath right in the eye. "Left us." he then pointed a gnarled, bony finger at him, that, ironically enough, was wasted down to the bone.

Then, more and more of the figures joined in. "Left us." they chanted. "Left us, left us, left us…" they repeated this again and again, their words borrowing into Heath's mind.

"This…" he tried to reason with himself. "This isn't real," he told himself. "I'm far from Astoria. There's no way I could be here now. There's no way…" It was then that, as if to challenge him, a figure's cold hand gripped him, as if to say that yes, they were very real.

More and more hands grabbed onto Heath, pulling in several directions. The young priest was thrust this way and that, a sickening hunger in the figures' eyes.

"Holy Bolt!" a voice shouted, beams of bright light coming from afar. Heath shielded himself, yet the beams missed him completely, tearing through his aggressors until they dissolved into dust. Still blinded from the overwhelming light that put his Holy Bolt to shame, Heath stumbled around until he felt a hand take his. His sight returning to him, he saw the image of a masked man above him. "Now, I believe you understand why you should not wander around this place on your own."

"Y-You!" Heath retreated back.

"Now…" the man's hand began to glow a soothing blue, yet Heath knew well what this meant. "You must be exhausted. I bid you a fair sleep-"

"Wait!" Heath shouted. "Wait a moment…" he pleaded, holding his hands up.

"I swore to you that you would not be harmed."

"No, I don't want to! Not yet!" the young priest shouted. "I…" he went silent for a few moments, flabbergasted that he was going to even do this. Yet, if he had to be honest, he had also exited his 'room' to potentially have this opportunity. "I want to talk."

The man was puzzled upon hearing this, the blue glow dying down. "You...wish to speak with me?"

"Yes," Heath answered. "Just don't put me to sleep again. Not now." he tried to straighten himself out, standing up tall and making himself appear firm. "I want answers. If you plan on keeping me here, then I want to know where this is, who you are, and most importantly, why am I here?"

The man was silent for a good while, Heath worried that perhaps he had just earned himself yet another forced sleep. Yet instead, the masked man appeared calm and perhaps a little interested. "Very well," he told the young man. "We shall discuss what you wish."

"Really?"

"Yes," he said. "As I have much to say to you."

Note: A bit of a preview for all the pasts of the villains, and some development with Heath and his captor. We'll catch up with the other minor characters in the next chapter, yet for now, I hope this satisfies!

Thank you, and I hope to hear from you all again!