As one enemy is found within, Steena meets another enemy outside. Serge fights on for his very existence against his dark side. But all cannot be explained so quickly, as there is a puppet master working behind the scenes and pulling everyone's strings. Even if Serge emerges victorious, will it be enough to stop the perpetrator of this whole plan? Read on to find out.
Round 33 – Steena (S), Doc (K)
"How did you get in here?" asked Serge.
"I've been with you since your birth," replied Atikon. "Any time you felt anger, that was me. Whenever you held a grudge against someone, I reminded you of what they did wrong. The sweet smell of hatred makes me feel alive! I am a part of you, whether you like it or not."
"But why choose to show yourself now? And here of all places?" questioned Serge.
"Too long have you kept me subdued within the confines of your pathetic morality and do-good attitude," spat Atikon. "You have so much power at your fingertips that it's a shame you don't use it. Do you know how much of the world you could own with just the slightest wave of your hand?"
"Did it ever occur to you that those are not the type of things that make me happy?" countered Serge.
"Oh, I know those things wouldn't make you happy," laughed Atikon. "But they make me very happy. You're weak. I'm strong. Survival of the fittest deems it only fair that you evolve up to me."
"If you're the next step in my evolution, then I'd rather be dead," said Serge.
"Hey, let's not get too hasty!" cackled Atikon. "I want to get rid of you just the same, but we can't kill each other. Believe me, I would have done so sooner if I could."
"Then what do you plan to do?" wondered Serge.
"Subdue you," said Atikon, coldly. "Just like you did to me for seventeen damn years! Always pushing me down and away! Well, I want control of this body now. I want to show you what it's like to have the shoe on the other foot!"
"You know I'm not going to let you do that," Serge said, as he readied himself with his swallow.
"Ahhh...so the little whelp wants to fight," mused Atikon. "I wouldn't have this any other way. You don't know how dull it gets in the darkest recesses of your mind, do you? Well, you're about to find out." Atikon then brought around his swallow, fire in his eyes.
"Out of all the things I've faced in life, you scare me the least," Serge glared. "With all your fancy speeches and talk of power. They just sound stupid. I'm not intimidated."
"I know," said Atikon. "I'm you, remember? The funny thing is, you should be afraid. You have no idea what you're up against."
"And I really don't care," blurted Serge, as he took off racing at his duplicate. He was charging with all his might at the crimson-haired specter. Atikon just put himself in a defensive posture and cracked a little smile.
"So it begins..." Atikon whispered to himself.
"Where iz mademoiselle, Steena?" Harle asked a tired Leena. She had been watching over Serge for a good portion of last night and most of the day. The village girl had been successful in dropping her companion's fever, but his body still occasionally shook from some unseen chill. She was excited when she saw his eyes darting back and forth very rapidly under his eyelids, believing he would awake soon. That was hours ago, though. Now this action just worried her very deeply.
"Oh, hello Harle. Didn't expect to see you back from your 'mission' so soon. I think she was heading over to Doc's tent last I saw her. She was laughing very strangely too. Kind of freaked me out to tell you the truth," Leena replied.
"Zank you, Leena. Keep a close watch on him, oui," winked Harle. She then began to walk out of the tent.
"Harle?" Leena called out.
"Oui?"
"What's going on? Will Serge be OK?"
"Moi does not know zis. But moi will try to 'elp." Harle then hurried out of the tent. She bent down next to Riddel, who was leaning against a rock. The princess had circles under her eyes, but had vowed not to rest until she found out the fate of Serge's health.
"Where is our shaman?" Riddel asked.
"In ze stinkee tent," answered Harle.
"To Doc's it is then. I just hope we are not too late." The pair then hurried off to the other side of the campsite.
Doc was sitting down in the lotus position in the center of his tent. He had some incense burning off to the side. The wind chimes hanging from the outside were blowing gentle music in the breeze. It might have looked like he was meditating to the casual observer, but this was far from the truth.
'Dude, those brownies I made last night were awesome,' the physician thought to himself.
"Hey, bucko!" shouted Steena, startling Doc.
"Ummm...hey Steena..." said Doc, not quite up to speed. "What're you doing here?"
"I brought you a treat! It's from a special stash out back!" Steena then took out a small bag and put it out for the surfer to see. It looked to be ground up leaves of some kind.
"Did you say 'stash'? Man, that looks so good." Doc then began to lick his lips. "What do you want for it, dude?"
"Consider it on the house," Steena replied. "Go ahead, try some."
Doc then opened the pouch and pulled out some of the crushed leaves. Talking a sniff, he affirmed that they were indeed good. He then pulled a bigger leaf out from underneath his sleeping bag and began to roll the smaller ones into it. With a few small licks, he sealed it shut. He then brought the newly formed cigarette up to his lips.
"You want some?" he asked, while getting his lighter ready.
"No thanks," smiled Steena. "I wouldn't want to rob you of this ecstasy."
"Your loss, dude," Doc said, as he lit his special cigarette. He took in a few puffs and coughed a little. He then tried to suck down more smoke, but found it increasingly difficult to do so. It felt like his throat was on fire and sweat was beginning to bead down his face.
"I also don't want to rob myself of this entertainment!" laughed Steena.
"What...the...you..." croaked Doc. His eyes felt like they were bulging out of their sockets and there was a ringing in his ears, which was growing louder by the second.
"Never take drugs from a stranger," chided Steena. "They might be poison!"
Riddel and Harle then charged into the tent. They took one look at the situation and could tell something was wrong.
"What have you done to him?" Riddel asked, her voice filled with concern.
"Little old me?" chuckled Steena, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you're..."
"Zis iz madness!" shot Harle. Just then, Doc gasped his last breath and fell over. His skin was a sickly blue and he felt hot to the touch. Harle and Riddel rushed over to do something for the surfer, but they were too late.
"Steena, where is your Dragon Emblem?" asked Riddel, trying to remain calm.
"Huh?! That old thing? Such a load to carry!" the shaman answered, rather annoyed.
"That may be so," agreed Riddel. "But as Chieftain of Guldove, it is a responsibility you have been honored with. I hope you have not disgraced your name..."
"Fine, fine, fine," said Steena, as she searched through the pockets of her pouch. She then found what she was looking for and pulled something out of her belt. "I've had it with me all the time. It's never left me. See?!"
Harle and Riddel's eyes both opened wide at what Steena held in her hand. It was an old and rotten piece of fruit. There were a few worms crawling around the sides of it too.
"Zat iz not ze Dragon Emblem!" exclaimed Harle. "Zat iz a rotton apple!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Steena said. "This is definitely the Dragon Emblem."
"I believe this is what you are looking for," smiled Riddel, as she pulled out the true Dragon Artifact. Steena just scoffed at her.
"What you're holding in your hand is crap!" Steena laughed, as if someone was trying to play a joke on her. "Anyone can clearly see what I hold is the real deal!" The shaman then held the rotten apple close to her cheek and nuzzled against it.
"Looks like we shall have to force it into her hand," sighed Riddel, as she looked over at the harlequin.
"Oui, follow my lead." Harle then teleported out of sight.
"Where'd the crazy lady...?" began Steena, as Harle materialized right next to her. The jester then brought her fist clean across Steena's face, knocking the chieftain to the floor. As she hit the ground, she lost her grip on the rotten apple. Riddel took her cue and ran toward the fallen priestess. Holding the Dragon Emblem up for a second, she quickly placed it into Steena's open fingers.
The Dragon Emblem then glowed a burning white in Steena's hand. The glow then slowly spread through her entire body until she was fully enveloped. Pushing herself to her feet, she stood with her arms outstretched, her aura reaching its peak intensity. White light then erupted out from her body, temporarily blinding Harle and Riddel. When their vision returned, they were greeted with the sight of Steena rubbing her head, as if clearing away the last remnants of the foreign spell.
"I have...not been myself as of late, have I?" asked Steena.
"No, lady Steena," Riddel replied. "But how do you feel now?"
"Much better. All thanks to you two. Although Harle does have a fierce right hook..." said Steena, as she rubbed the side of her face. She then looked toward the dead body of Doc. "Was this my doing?"
"Oui, mademoiselle Steena," answered Harle. "But 'e waz useless baggage. Zere iz more import'nt matterz. Zerge iz in a coma. Guile zaid you could 'elp." At the mention of this piece of information, Steena's head perked up.
"Serge? What is wrong with him?" she asked.
"No one really knows," said Riddel. "But he fell into his trance after unexpectedly attacking Leena a few days ago. She said he spoke in a voice filled with hatred. His eyes were not their normal blue either. They were a blood red."
"Anything else?" Steena wondered, pressing for details. "Did it seem he was at odds with himself? Maybe fighting against something?"
"Now zat you mention zat, moi do remember mademoiselle Leena zaying somet'ing like zat," added Harle.
"I wish I had never mistakenly brought this item with me," Steena said, saddened. "It appears it has fallen into the wrong hands. You must bring me to him at once! I will attempt to fix what has been done!"
"Why? What is wrong with him?" prodded Riddel.
"He is fighting his dark side. And heaven help us all if he loses. Now please, take me to him." The three women then exited the tent in haste.
Meanwhile, Serge was giving his all against the double, but it seemed to be useless. Whenever he swung his weapon high, Atikon moved to the side and hit him low. Every opening he saw vanished too quickly. After a few minutes of sparring, he was out of breath and pained, but Atikon had nary a scratch on him.
"What's the matter big baby?" teased Atikon. "Can't keep up? I told you I was better than you. Just give up now. I promise to kill Leena and the others reeeeaaalllll slowly."
"Don't you dare harm her!" Serge yelled, emotion coursing through him. As he charged at Atikon, his swallow flared up with a bright white light. Atikon attempted to block, but the force was too strong and he was flung back. Serge walked away, satisfied his troubles were over, when he heard that same mocking laughter again.
"The child finally learns to fight," Atikon laughed, as he bolted to his feet. "Good. We're in your mind, you fool. You can do much more here than out there! Now let's do this for real. Anything less would be an insult to both you and me. Prepare yourself! I'm not going to hold anything back anymore!" Atikon then gripped his swallow and shot up into the air.
"You're not getting away from that easily!" shouted Serge. He gripped his own weapon and took off after Atikon. "Stop running you coward!"
"Who's running?" asked Atikon, sounding hurt. "I'm just getting a better angle on you so I can do this!" He then gripped his swallow and burned red. His weapon then made many miniature duplicates of itself, all homing in on Serge. The villager tried to evade them all, but a few bit into his skin, not slowing him down much.
"Is that all?" wondered Serge. "You'll have to do more..." He was then interrupted by a giant swallow, which suddenly crashed down onto him. Screaming, he tore himself free from the oversized weapon. "I have seen that before..."
"Yes, familiar, isn't it?" said Atikon, finishing Serge's question. "Like I said, I'm you and so much more. As a by-product of my persona taking form, I was also imbued with other powers. With each life force that left this island, I gained some of their knowledge and power. Like that move you saw back there. I stole that one from the little bunny rabbit."
"What else do you have hidden up your sleeve, traitor?!"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" cackled Atikon. "In due time, you'll see much more than that, I assure you!" He then brought his swallow up into the air and the tip of it glowed green. Serge instinctively moved to the side just in time, as a giant black star narrowly missed him.
"Two can play at that game," said Serge. He then attempted to conjure up one of his ally's special moves. Try as he might though, nothing happened.
"Tsk, tsk," Atikon chided him. "I told you, idiot. These abilities are a by-product of my formation. They belong to me and me alone. You're just going to have to rely on your own moxie and foolish courage. Not like that's stopped you before..."
"I will end you!" Serge yelled, as he flew at his doppelganger.
"Looks like I caught a big one," said Atikon, as a string suddenly appeared at the end of his swallow, now shining blue. He cast it at Serge, the hook making a perfect connection. He tugged and used Serge's own momentum against him, hurling him into a newly formed stone wall. Dazed but not out, Serge again floated to stare at Atikon head on.
"Just give up now," Atikon said. "You can't beat me."
Growing frustrated, Serge just rushed at Atikon, and the two began their mad dance once again.
By: Daredevil3181
Round 34 – Orlha (S), Fargo (K)
"Still bent on the straightforward approach, eh?" sneered Atikon. "This ought to shake things up then." As Serge was racing toward Atikon, a stone walkway materialized underneath him. The duplicate then let his foot charge with a yellow energy before bringing it down with a tremendous force on the floor. The ground immediately trembled and then began to heave rather violently. Serge was being tossed around as if he was in a child's pinball machine. When the trembling finally ceased he tried to shake the ringing in his head.
"I...will find...a way to stop you," said Serge, the battle beginning to take its toll on him.
"Well, you better do something quickly," chuckled Atikon. "Because I'm going to give you a hint. What you're doing now isn't exactly working."
'He's right,' Serge said to himself. 'I really need to change my tactics if I ever want to get out of this in one piece.' Serge then concentrated on his own unique aura until he shone with an inner light. He then created a ball of compact energy. Summoning all of his strength, he hurled this at Atikon.
"Ah, the light of the luminaire," said Atikon. "Not a bad idea. At least you're doing something different. Too bad it won't hit me." Atikon then brought his swallow up to shoulder level, the tip pointed right at the ball of inner energy. He then began to rotate the tip of his weapon in a clockwise circle as it glowed yellow. A miniature tornado then shot out and intercepted the luminaire.
"Now for my favorite part," laughed Atikon. Using the windstorm to grip the ball, he then brought it around at Serge. The ball turned as black as night as it hurtled toward the normally silent mime. Serge tried to fly out of the way, but he was just too tired to keep up the same speed he had been using earlier. The ball struck him hard in the shoulder. Wincing in pain, Serge's vision began to blacken before he shook his head to regain his bearings.
'Well, that didn't work either,' pondered Serge. 'What can I do to hurt this guy? He halts my charges and uses my projectiles against me. Nothing I can think of seems to work. Unless..."
Serge called forth his aura energy then and fired another luminaire at Atikon. This one wasn't as large as before, but Serge hoped it would do its job. He waited a few seconds and then sped off after it.
"Some people never learn," said Atikon. His swallow then emanated a yellow light as he made a direct horizontal cut in the air in front of him. This left a trail that remained fixed in that position. He then joined his horizontal line with two more. One was a diagonal cut up and the other was a diagonal cut down. His counter set in place, he then gave it a gentle nudge and sent it on its way to intercept Serge's energy ball.
Atikon's force of air collided with Serge's luminaire, destroying it upon impact. It kept on traveling though, and expanding ever larger. Undaunted, Serge did not slow down, but in fact sped up toward it. Just before he was about to feel the force of Atikon's creation he changed direction and hurled his swallow as if it were a javelin.
"You weren't supposed to..." started the doppelganger as Serge's new projectile ripped into his body. It left a hole on the side of him, which immediately began spilling out thick, black smoke. Atikon then put his hand to his side, and with a little concentration, sealed up his wound. Serge was smiling a short way off in the distance, his swallow in his hand once more. "You'll pay for that," groaned Atikon.
'So he can be hurt,' Serge congratulated himself. 'I just have to be creative in my tactics.'
"I'll admit, you caught me off guard with that one," snarled Atikon. "But don't expect that to happen again. Think you're the only one who can throw your swallow? Think again!"
Atikon then charged his swallow with a green light and chucked it at Serge like a boomerang. Serge quickly dived down, as the weapon passed over his head harmlessly. Atikon also followed him in his descent, a devilish grin still on his face. 'Why is he...?" thought Serge, when he suddenly realized what his opponent was doing.
Serge then shot up just in time to avoid the swallow's return trip. Atikon's smile had turned into a frown by the time he caught the pseudo boomerang in his outstretched hand. 'Good thing I remembered that move always returned the axe to Karsh's hand,' Serge thought. 'That could have been very bad for me otherwise.'
"So, you dodged one. Big deal!" Atikon yelled, frustration evident in his voice. "Let's see you dodge two!"
A green aura again surrounded his weapon and when it dissipated, Atikon was now holding an exact duplicate of his swallow. He then hurled both projectiles at Serge. One was arcing in from the right and the other arcing in from the left.
Serge climbed higher, but the two swallows seemed to home in on him just the same. 'Well, the right one is coming in faster, so I better try to stop that one first,' Serge reasoned. He shot forward and down toward Atikon and smashed his swallow into the incoming weapon. It vanished in a puff of smoke. He then spun around to his left just in time to send the other swallow back into the nothingness from which it came.
'Now for Atikon,' Serge thought, as he spun around to face his enemy.
"Fore!" shouted Atikon, as he brought his swallow, now shining red, down hard on a dense, black piece of metal, sending it right at the village boy. With no time to react, Serge caught the brunt of the attack right between his eyes. He immediately blacked out and began to fall.
"Have a happy landing, champ!" Atikon called out to the spiraling form.
Back in reality, Fargo sat alone at the bar. Only Orlha, with her calm and cheerful smile, was present, wiping down a few of the glasses with her always-handy hand towel. Fargo had been coming frequently ever since it was discovered that Marcy had died. Orlha couldn't blame him. She felt terrible when Tia died, and his pain was only multiplied. One should never have to bury their child, and still, Fargo did so.
"Orlha, give me another," he said. He had downed all of the good beer, and the only stuff she had now tasted acidic and burned when it went down. "Bathtub beer", Orlha and Doc had made the stuff, and they never thought they'd have to use it. Still, the pirate drank it without any problems.
"Captain Fargo, are you feeling alright?" she asked sympathetically. "Do you want to talk about Marcy?"
"What? No, I don't. I want to talk about Leah," he said.
"Leah?"
"Yeah, I...I KILLED HER! I cleaved her in two with me sword," he wallowed, crying out in anguish.
"I'm sure you didn't do it on purpose."
"Orlha, w'at should I do? How can I stop dis old heart from achin'?" Fargo asked, leaning forward on the bar and looking into her eyes.
"Captain Fargo, you're scaring me. I don't have the answer to that question."
"Dammit, tell me, what be the answer! I know ye know, lassie!" Fargo, obviously drunk, leaned forward even more, grabbing her by the collar.
"Captain Fargo, STOP!" she shouted, punching him across the face. He sailed backward and landed on his back, and for a second, Orlha thought she punched him out. But he stood up a few seconds later, a look of death in his eyes.
"Ye be hittin' me?! Ye don't know what ye be dealin' with!" He shouted, drawing his sword. He roughly slashed Orlha in a diagonal slash across her body. It drew blood, but the wound was superficial, and it only served to anger her.
"That's it, you're goin' down!" Orlha shouted, jumping over the bar and getting into her fighting stance. Fargo threw out mostly clumsy slashes that would have only caught Orlha were she unaware. She dodged nimbly, spinning on her heels and even turning a few back handsprings.
"Once last chance, Fargo. Calm down and let's talk," she said. He didn't answer.
"Fine, I'm sorry," Orlha said. When Fargo slashed again, she dodged to her left, and grabbed a long stretch of rope. She swiftly placed the rope on Fargo's neck and roughly started to asphyxiate him, trying to knock him out. However, Fargo moved to try and slash her, so she quickly dodged to her left.
SNAP! She heard something that was undoubtedly Fargo's neck breaking. His body became limp and she sank to the ground.
"I didn't..." she said to herself.
"Orlha!" came Norris's voice. "You're wounded," he said, reaching into his survival gear kit to get a role of sterile bandages.
"Norris, I..." Orlha said.
"Shhh, don't talk," he told her. He checked Fargo's pulse and affirmed him to be dead. Norris then handed Orlha some of those bandages to patch herself up.
When she finished, she looked better, but she was still pale.
"You did what you had to. I saw what happened. It was kill or be killed, however cruel it sounds," he said.
"I know. At least...he finally is peaceful," she said sadly, then turned away.
"I should close the bar." She mused aloud. "Too many memories, not enough customers now."
Leena had been doting over Serge for a good deal of time now, hoping that each new breath would be the one in which he would awaken. Alas, this was not the case. She could also barely make out faint laughter coming from his throat. Rather than make her happy, this laughter chilled her to the bone. It sounded like the same menacing voice that had attacked her a few days ago.
"Show me where he is," ordered Steena, as she burst through the tent. Riddel and Harle followed her closely.
"He's right here, Steena," said Leena, as she pointed to the comatose body of Serge. "I got the fever down, but..."
"You must let me do what needs to be done," the shaman interrupted. "Before all hope is lost."
"Sure, whatever you think will help him," assented Leena, as she got up and out of Steena's way.
Steena then bent over the sick boy and took out her Dragon Emblem. Channeling her power into it, she then touched it to Serge's head. However, the healing light had no effect as Serge remained unconscious.
"This is very bad," remarked Steena. "Generally the healing touch of the Dragon Emblem can fix most minds that are out of sorts. For it not to work now would mean that his madness has progressed to a very critical level."
"Iz zere anyt'ing you can do?" asked Harle.
"There is one way," answered Steena. "But it is very dangerous. I have to enter into Serge's mind with him."
"The realm of mental pathways can be a very confusing place," said Riddel. "You could even get lost in there yourself."
"I understand this risk," said Steena. "But it is one I am willing to take. Please watch over my body while my mind has joined with his. I am not sure how long this will take."
The priestess then bent over Serge's limp body. Concentrating all of her spiritual power into the Dragon Emblem, she placed it on his forehead. With a single breath to steady her, Steena then entered into Serge's mind.
The shaman suddenly found herself in an area of almost nothingness. Her feet were on seemingly solid translucent blue glass. She heard faint sounds up above her and she craned her head to get a better view. It was then that she saw a limp form spiraling down to the ground.
"Serge!" she cried out. Steena then took off in a mad dash to stop the boy's impending impact. Just as he was about to hit the ground, she dove at him. The priestess caught him just in time.
"Serge, please wake up," pleaded Steena, as she held him like a mother would hold a baby. "You need to fight this thing and I can help you!"
"Wha...huh...Steena?" he said as his eyes fluttered open. "What are you doing here?"
"There's no time to explain," Steena replied. "What matters is that I can give you the extra power you need."
Just then a tremor shook the ground as a figure crashed down a short distance away. Atikon stood up, hatred burning in his eyes.
"You would do well to leave him alone, witch," warned Atikon. "He was losing just fine by himself."
"Which is why I came to help," shot back Steena. "You will not win. You have to know that. Even if you can beat Serge inside the mental realm, others will stop you in the real world."
"We'll see," said Atikon. "Although it's hard to argue with true power. And I've got that in spades."
Steena then helped Serge to his feet. "Charge at him," she whispered into his ear.
"What...?" he whispered back. "He'll just knock me down again..."
"Trust me on this one," assured Steena. Serge then nodded his head to her. With a look toward his duplicate he took off running.
"Oh, come on," said Atikon, not believing his eyes. "How many times has this tactic failed?" He didn't notice Steena holding her Dragon Emblem out.
As Serge raced at his opponent, he began to shine with a brilliant white light. Suddenly, armor began to cover his body. First, his bandanna became a helmet. Next, his shirt became a breastplate and extended to cover his arms and legs. Finally, his swallow transformed into a lance and a shield materialized in his other arm.
Not worrying about this new development, Atikon called down a gigantic black robot as his swallow emanated a faint white glow. He then ordered it to fire at the oncoming Serge. With a wave of its mechanized arms, it began to fire its lasers at the shining knight. Serge instinctively raised his shield and to his astonishment, deflected all of Atikon's robot's attacks harmlessly away. He then stretched out his lance even farther in anticipation of his victory.
"Oh ..." began Atikon, as he put his swallow up in a feeble defense. Serge tore right through it and into Atikon's chest. The doppelganger screamed in pain as the swallow erupted through his back. Black, wispy smoke exited the wound as Atikon struggled to extricate himself from the lance with little success.
"I can't lose to you!" he screamed. "This isn't the way it's supposed to be!"
"Tough luck," said Serge, coldly, as he ripped his lance out with a sickening tear.
Atikon slumped to the ground. He tried to heal the gaping hole in his chest, but the searing white edges prevented this. 'He never had this much power before!' Atikon thought to himself. His eyes roved around for a little before finally locking in on Steena, who was still channeling her power into the Dragon Emblem. 'So that's the problem,' he reasoned.
With great difficulty, Atikon pushed himself to his feet. He was getting weaker by the second as his life-force spilled out of him. The evil duplicate swung his arm around and let his swallow fly at Serge. Serge moved to the side and watched the swallow fly harmlessly by.
"Hah! You missed me!" Serge chided.
"Yeah. Good thing it wasn't you I was aiming for," Atikon spoke very calmly.
Serge whipped his head around to see the weapon going straight for the preoccupied Steena. He tried to stop it in time, but was too slow. With a clang, the swallow pierced the shaman's hand, causing her to release the Dragon Emblem. Serge's protective gear and lance then vanished.
"Well, that's more like it," said Atikon, as he closed his injury up. "I don't like interference. This was a fight between sissy boy and me." He then began to walk toward the shaken chieftain. Serge put his hand on Atikon to restrain him, but his evil twin shrugged him off almost effortlessly. He then kicked Serge in the stomach and sent him sliding across the glass surface.
"You know you will not win," said Steena feebly, as she scrambled to pick up the Dragon Emblem again. Just as she was about to grab it, Atikon's boot stomped down on her outstretched hand.
"You want this piece of junk so bad?" Atikon asked, as he bent to pick up the artifact. "Be my guest. As soon as I finish with it first, though." He then charged it with black energy until it practically swallowed up all the available light. Once he deemed it ready, he thrust it into Steena's fingers. "Say hi to 'Dad'," he whispered.
The shaman touched the Dragon Emblem with a howl. It felt like a million knives were digging into her skin. She tried to fight the power, but Atikon's influence was too strong. She then disappeared from the battlefield.
"Now, where were we?" Atikon laughed, while cracking his knuckles.
Steena's mind was thrust abruptly back into her body as she hit the floor of the tent with a thud.
"Steena, are you all right?" asked Riddel, helping the shaman to her feet.
"Yes, I'll be fine, Riddel," answered Steena. "Serge however..."
"Ze Dragon Emblem!" interrupted Harle, as she pointed at what Steena held.
"What about it?" she asked, as she looked down at the artifact. It looked normal to her. However, on closer inspection, she could tell something was a little out of place. Then, it hit her. It was a pulsing with a dark energy. "Oh no, Atikon must have..."
That was all Steena was able to get out as the black energy from the Dragon Emblem enveloped her body. She looked to the others for help, but her plea was too late. In the blink of an eye, she vanished from sight.
Steena looked at her new surroundings. She was standing on some type of rock. In the distance she could hear the sound of rushing water.
"Well, it looks like I have a visitor," said a voice, almost teasing the shaman. The figure then stepped into the light so she could have a better look.
"Lynx! You treacherous cat!" Steena shouted.
"I see you have met my son," the feline demi-human continued. "Atikon has been progressing along just fine, it seems. You, on the other hand, have worn out your welcome. Prepare yourself for the void!"
By: Daredevil3181 and Matt620