The S & S of Calamity; Culminations
Okenforde was a town on the edge of calamity when it woke up that morning. The thick, orange rays of a morning sun would do much to hide the coming tribulations; a porcelain mask covering a scarred scowl. A cool breeze brought everyone to the day and dusted the night of fun and fire from everyone's mind, whether that be a thing for memory or regret. Lives were quickly being put back onto the road and people began to fill the streets with story and greeting.
This day would bring new pain and misery to Orphen. Waking from his perch in a lush chair which had beckoned him in the later bowels of the evening, a stretched yawn was enough to break Majic from his slumber as well. Where Orphen was waking into just a normal day, Majic was waking to a stampede in his head and a tornado in his stomach. He made quite the groan as he sat up.
"Oh, what happened? What's ringing so loud?"
Orphen idly watched a few of the last patrons of the party leaving to their homes or their jobs, then he settle a smirk onto Majic and stood, his hands resting on his hips candidly and a flat tone coming in over the ringing Majic was hearing. "Is Majic having problems with a hangover? I tried to tell you not to drink that stuff. I guess now you'll be more careful at town parties, won't you?"
Majic's face shifted a few colors and he weakly stood, though the world wasn't cooperating and he swayed like a sickly weed in a breeze. Though he was looked rather awake and alert, he barely heard the suggestion Orphen gave him. It took a second time to grasp the idea and find the merit in it. "I think I will go for a walk." he replied and walked towards the cool breeze sneaking into the inn from the large front doors. Just as the boy was making his way outside, Cleo was unsurely coming down the stairs from the upstairs rooms, her face pale and jaded from a combination of lack of sleep and crying.
Orphen was a bit puzzled as he watched her. Her usually chipper face was weighted down by something, as if she had dreamt of sins and shadows for the better part of the night. The fact was she hadn't slept at all. After Pallas had suddenly disappeared from the room, feelings of rejection and heartbreak had consumed her and lead her to wet his bed sheets with her tears of why. Lingering on the last step, she looked at Orphen with a sort of betrayed sense of guilt, though she couldn't exactly describe what she was feeling at the moment. She would have given herself to Pallas that night, but some great force of the world had pushed a wall between them and left her alone. Now she felt a little stupid looking at Orphen in the morning, though her true atrocity was lost with the ears of the one she had hoped to love.
"Looks like you had quite the night too. Last time I saw you, you were fertilizing one of those plants with your dinner." Orphen said, breaking the stare with one of his arrogant smirks. She didn't respond a moment, but soon found some of herself in the morning air.
"I don't know what you mean. It must have been someone else."
Soon enough she walked to him with the standard edge in her voice. A girl hurt and scared could be far more dangerous than any sword or spell, if only for the emotion aloft right under the surface. Orphen was oblivious to the entire evening, for hearing of her intimacy with Pallas might have put him in a grayer place, though that road would not be crossed so quickly after it was paved.
He simply laughed a bit and stretched again, turning to peer out the window and make plans for the day. The shadow would be found on that day, he predicted, though he had no true sense just how deep the shadow went. Cleo's face was pale again, her eyes looking aimlessly at the ground for some kind of clue as to what had happened. In some sense, she felt she had to tell Orphen about it, though she didn't want to. What if he simply shrugged and didn't care? That would mean her crush really was stupid and all of her feelings would be lost under the name of Azalie. However, if it revealed some kind of feelings on his part, that meant she would have to deal with her want for Orphen and Pallas, which was something she didn't want to even face at the moment. It was just too hard for her.
As she looked up to him, a desperate confession burned on her tongue and threatened to burst out on the top of her lungs. She may have even done so, if not for the man rushing in with panic and travel on his face. The sorcerer was the first person he ran to and he quickly began yelling and pointing. "Your little friend has been taken by the great shadow! It swept down and carried him off towards the old ruins outside of town!"
Both Orphen and Cleo were struck by the news and instantly knew that it was Majic who had been taken. With foreseen terror in his eyes, Orphen quickly looked around for the innkeeper. The pudgy man was just walking by when a foray of demands were barked out by the sorcerer. "You! Go tell Pallas that I need him downstairs!" Knowing that he had come into town with Pallas, the keeper quickly went up the stairs to do that very thing. However, in the fury of his thoughts of helping Majic, Orphen nearly missed hearing Cleo speak in a reserved tone.
"Pallas isn't up there. He's already gone."
It took a moment to get him to take a break, but he soon looked to Cleo with a shocked expression. The reason she knew this was something which confused him, though the fact she was looking away with a very defensive look on her face gave him a pretty good idea. The reasons for her knowing that Pallas wasn't in his room early in the morning weren't as important as finding Majic, so he shrugged off her little bit of knowledge and looked out the window once more, seeing the distant rise of the ruins where they had met Pallas. "Hopefully, we see him then. Whatever this thing is, I get the feeling it's not going to be nice or weak."
The greens which had overgrown the ruins may have given the stone a softer appearance, but the reality of the stairs were something of a different sort as Majic rolled down them. Sprawling at the bottom, a groan escaped him while the shadow which had been plaguing the town landed soundlessly at the top, glaring down upon the young boy with two burning eyes and claws that could shred stone and flesh. His walk had turned into a nightmare when the shadow had taken him, revealing the shadow was really a fearsome beast that bested any in his nightmares, and already began to abuse him. Sitting back onto his hands, he began to slide backwards across the ancient floor and away from the beast's glare. Inside, he was bleeding fear and desire for his master to save him just as he was bleeding blood and tears on the outside.
All that came to a stop when he felt the foot of someone behind him. Eyes bathed in pure terror widened as the thoughts of bandits or rapists filled his mind. So many perils in the world could harden young boys such as himself, though he had remained quite innocent in the face of it all. No peril could have compared to what he saw over his shoulder.
"P-Pallas? Is it you?" With a foolish sense of relief coming over him, his hands were quickly grabbing at his pants and he smiled, despite all the warning signs he had seen so far. All that he cared about right then was Pallas's sword and his reputation of helping people. What he found was Pallas looking down at him with a malevolent gleam in his eye. Majic was oblivious, "I'm so glad to see you!"
"Why?"
The single word, spoken with a level of fierceness that struck Majic nearly from his legs, broke through any false sense of hope and introduced the boy to the reality of his situation. With stuttering words on his lips, Majic stood before Pallas and began to back away, his eyes reflected a truly terrible beast in them, far more than the black shadow which had come down the stairs behind him. Pallas lifted his chin slightly and snorted, as if truly disgusted with the boy. "Am I obligated to rescue the world? Where is it written that I must help the weak and the oppressed? I'm sick of your expectations of me. The mighty Rune Fighter of Baloria dies today; I'll bury him right next to you and your master."
It was startling to see just how ferocious Pallas truly was, when the sun was glowing across his shoulders and his weighted brow cast shade over his dulled eyes. He held the makings of a villain, just as he held the makings of a hero. The line that defined them was so thin that a title could be mistaken just as easily as looking at a figure standing before a setting sun. Majic's philosophical journey would be cut short, however, as his backing from the man had brought him into something even more startling. A searing pain was piercing his back, making him look to the heavens with an enlightened sense of life. The great shadow was looming around him with a great hand against his back. Two claws, resembling two knives, were impaled through his back and making two wetting points on his shirt cool on the breeze. Majic had never felt something so obscure, but it caused his fear to well in him. Death would be a shadow greater than any beast, but he was far from accepting that. Even through the soft laughing of the beast, he waited for Orphen to come to his rescue and slay all of his foes. That was his one hope.
His hope was sadly late.
"Have your fun with him, but don't let the sorcerer see him. There's nothing more formidable than a vengeful fool." Pallas said to the side as he started away from the scene. The beast idly licked some of Majic's blood from his claws and held the boy aloft, just to further the taste of the sweet liquid. Just before Pallas left, he turned to the beast and rested a hand across the hilt of his enchanted sword. Somehow, he seemed less fearsome once more. "Chiron, I have one last order for you." The beast, which abruptly stopped it's tasting, looked to him across waning shadows and chill. Pallas closed his eyes and spoke softly, as if his words drained him.
"Don't touch the girl."
With that, Pallas disappeared into the ruins and left Majic staring weakly after him. With a beastly laugh, Chiron, the imp which accompanied Pallas in his docile form, but now served his purpose in an imp's true form, gripped Majic's neck and leaned in close, speaking in a far deeper, more distorted voice than the boy remembered. "Isn't love grand?" The ghastly laugh filled the ruins once more as Majic was left to the mercy of him.
Orphen and Cleo were frantically trying to find Majic within the endless confines of the ruins. Something stale was holding strong in the air and it caused Orphen to feel a little bit more frantic about the beast than would be typically warranted. As much as Orphen hid it, he did care what happened to Majic, just as he cared what happened to Cleo. The thought of his apprentice being thrashed to pieces didn't appeal to him, so he was a tad worked up in thoughts of blood and spoils.
Coming to a clearing in the ruins, perhaps a lost ballroom in a forgotten kingdom, the sorcerer looked around for a sign of either his apprentice or his quarry, but found nothing. Something inside was telling him that they were close, so he played an instinct which would keep the other he cared for away from sharp claws and grinning teeth. "Cleo, stay here while I find Majic." he huffed and eyed the small dragon which was clinging to her. She would be okay, as long as she wasn't in the way when he found the shadow.
Cleo protested with a face equally full of concern, fully intent on freeing Majic as well, but the look she received from Orphen made her disposition a little less passionate. "I can help too, Orphen." she lulled and clutched Leki in front of her. The sorcerer had a strange look on his face, though whether it was for the morning's circumstances or the future events, she wasn't sure. In the end, his tone warded her from following, at least for a little while.
"Not this time, Cleo. Stay here. I'll be back with Majic."
Soon enough he was dashing through the ruins again, this time alone, and intent on making a thrilling rescue of his weaker apprentice. Cleo huffed a moment, finding a toppled pillar to sit on and hug Leki to her chest. Even though these moments were dire, she couldn't help but wonder where Pallas had gone. What would he say when she saw him again? Would he explain his reason for leaving? A thousand questions went through her mind, but no answers were there. This had the potential to be either the greatest love story she could dream of or the most tragic mistake in her heart. That was, perhaps, the reason her heart hadn't slowed since she first met him.
It wasn't five minutes before Leki began to perk in her arms, sensing some great evil afoot and naturally becoming a bit protective. With a squirm, the little dragon was running to another part of the ruin; a cove of sorrow from which a deep laugh was coming. "Leki! Come back!" howled Cleo and followed, unaware that she was stumbling onto a scene which would haunt her forever.
"Pallas!"
The voice was very startling as it broke the morning air. The swordsman had been casually leaning against a ruin when the sorcerer had come sprinting out of the mist, causing him to look upon his friend with slightly jaded eyes. However, he didn't even stumble as he watched the sorcerer run up, a face full of worry. "That's my name."
For some reason, it seemed like a very strange way to answer, but Orphen shrugged it off and came to a halt a few feet in front of his friend. There was something different in his eyes, Orphen thought, and something looming about his person. However, there was business to be handled first. "I'm glad I found you. That shadow that's been bothering Okenforde has taken Majic and it's somewhere in these ruins. I could really use your help finding him, Pallas." he said, dismissing all suspicion to years of friendship.
Pallas watched him coolly the entire time, not letting on truth or tale. It was ironic and Pallas would have laughed, but that was not in his character. "Is that so? What if he's already dead?" Pallas replied and leaned off of the ruin. The idea wasn't something that Orphen liked to imagine, so the words hit him like a stone. Pallas was indeed acting strange, thought he could hide it rather well. "It's a possibility, Orphen. I can't believe you've gotten so sappy. He's just a boy." the swordsman continued and came to stand right in front of the sorcerer. It was an unofficial duel in which two lives of unending trials would be set sword to spell, even before any true battle would begin. It was the last time Orphen would see his old friend through eyes not burning in hate and fear, for quickly enough, another figure joined them.
"I knew you'd come if I took your apprentice, sorcerer. So predictable, you creatures of false magic are."
The voice was serrated, catching Orphen's attention and breaking his growing concerns over how Pallas was acting. What he found when he turned was Chiron, though a far cry from the little imp obsessed with the hair of maidens that he remembered. The daylight finally caught the true practicality in the imp's form, from the long, curved claws still stained with red tears, the flawless collection of muscle and scale which allowed survival for the non-human and his demonic face, now horned and scaled around two eyes of glowing red. Orphen could barely believe it, but he knew that it was Chiron.
"Chiron!? You're the shadow that's been attacking the town!" he yelled out, nearly in disbelief. Too many things ran through his head to turn and question Pallas about it, but such a question probably would have saved him some surprise. Standing behind Orphen, Pallas's hand was resting on his sword, a mere breath away from striking out and ending the legend of Orphen with a single blow. The ease of such a deed was, perhaps, the factor in his hand being stayed. Despite all the clouds which had filled Pallas's vision and turned him into the warlord that he was now, some powerful thing inside of him left his war-torn arm to leave the Salt Abbey sword in its scabbard.
Chiron, however, had no predispositions of humanity in him. He wasn't human. "You are also fooled too easily by appearances. It's no matter now. Soon, I'll crunch your bones and absorb your magical powers, sorcerer, and restore some order to the world of magic." the demon said and ran a black tongue over sharp teeth. There was war flowing through his veins and this being of myth and legend had it out for Orphen. A lilac aura began to radiate from Chiron as pure, natural magic began to swell inside of him, showing this false idol just what the realities of the world was.
Orphen's body tightened with advance and his face began bare. A gray Pallas stood within a strike of him, his deception lost amidst Orphen's fear and concern. This wouldn't be like his other fights, even those with his bane, Bloody August. Chiron was born in magic and brutally soaked with it. No sandbagging would be allowed if he was to fend away the gorgon. With determination and resolve, the sorcerer prepared his array of attack and spell, ready to prove once again that he was not to be taken lightly.
Tragically, Chiron was still only the pawn before the king.
Okenforde was a town on the edge of calamity when it woke up that morning. The thick, orange rays of a morning sun would do much to hide the coming tribulations; a porcelain mask covering a scarred scowl. A cool breeze brought everyone to the day and dusted the night of fun and fire from everyone's mind, whether that be a thing for memory or regret. Lives were quickly being put back onto the road and people began to fill the streets with story and greeting.
This day would bring new pain and misery to Orphen. Waking from his perch in a lush chair which had beckoned him in the later bowels of the evening, a stretched yawn was enough to break Majic from his slumber as well. Where Orphen was waking into just a normal day, Majic was waking to a stampede in his head and a tornado in his stomach. He made quite the groan as he sat up.
"Oh, what happened? What's ringing so loud?"
Orphen idly watched a few of the last patrons of the party leaving to their homes or their jobs, then he settle a smirk onto Majic and stood, his hands resting on his hips candidly and a flat tone coming in over the ringing Majic was hearing. "Is Majic having problems with a hangover? I tried to tell you not to drink that stuff. I guess now you'll be more careful at town parties, won't you?"
Majic's face shifted a few colors and he weakly stood, though the world wasn't cooperating and he swayed like a sickly weed in a breeze. Though he was looked rather awake and alert, he barely heard the suggestion Orphen gave him. It took a second time to grasp the idea and find the merit in it. "I think I will go for a walk." he replied and walked towards the cool breeze sneaking into the inn from the large front doors. Just as the boy was making his way outside, Cleo was unsurely coming down the stairs from the upstairs rooms, her face pale and jaded from a combination of lack of sleep and crying.
Orphen was a bit puzzled as he watched her. Her usually chipper face was weighted down by something, as if she had dreamt of sins and shadows for the better part of the night. The fact was she hadn't slept at all. After Pallas had suddenly disappeared from the room, feelings of rejection and heartbreak had consumed her and lead her to wet his bed sheets with her tears of why. Lingering on the last step, she looked at Orphen with a sort of betrayed sense of guilt, though she couldn't exactly describe what she was feeling at the moment. She would have given herself to Pallas that night, but some great force of the world had pushed a wall between them and left her alone. Now she felt a little stupid looking at Orphen in the morning, though her true atrocity was lost with the ears of the one she had hoped to love.
"Looks like you had quite the night too. Last time I saw you, you were fertilizing one of those plants with your dinner." Orphen said, breaking the stare with one of his arrogant smirks. She didn't respond a moment, but soon found some of herself in the morning air.
"I don't know what you mean. It must have been someone else."
Soon enough she walked to him with the standard edge in her voice. A girl hurt and scared could be far more dangerous than any sword or spell, if only for the emotion aloft right under the surface. Orphen was oblivious to the entire evening, for hearing of her intimacy with Pallas might have put him in a grayer place, though that road would not be crossed so quickly after it was paved.
He simply laughed a bit and stretched again, turning to peer out the window and make plans for the day. The shadow would be found on that day, he predicted, though he had no true sense just how deep the shadow went. Cleo's face was pale again, her eyes looking aimlessly at the ground for some kind of clue as to what had happened. In some sense, she felt she had to tell Orphen about it, though she didn't want to. What if he simply shrugged and didn't care? That would mean her crush really was stupid and all of her feelings would be lost under the name of Azalie. However, if it revealed some kind of feelings on his part, that meant she would have to deal with her want for Orphen and Pallas, which was something she didn't want to even face at the moment. It was just too hard for her.
As she looked up to him, a desperate confession burned on her tongue and threatened to burst out on the top of her lungs. She may have even done so, if not for the man rushing in with panic and travel on his face. The sorcerer was the first person he ran to and he quickly began yelling and pointing. "Your little friend has been taken by the great shadow! It swept down and carried him off towards the old ruins outside of town!"
Both Orphen and Cleo were struck by the news and instantly knew that it was Majic who had been taken. With foreseen terror in his eyes, Orphen quickly looked around for the innkeeper. The pudgy man was just walking by when a foray of demands were barked out by the sorcerer. "You! Go tell Pallas that I need him downstairs!" Knowing that he had come into town with Pallas, the keeper quickly went up the stairs to do that very thing. However, in the fury of his thoughts of helping Majic, Orphen nearly missed hearing Cleo speak in a reserved tone.
"Pallas isn't up there. He's already gone."
It took a moment to get him to take a break, but he soon looked to Cleo with a shocked expression. The reason she knew this was something which confused him, though the fact she was looking away with a very defensive look on her face gave him a pretty good idea. The reasons for her knowing that Pallas wasn't in his room early in the morning weren't as important as finding Majic, so he shrugged off her little bit of knowledge and looked out the window once more, seeing the distant rise of the ruins where they had met Pallas. "Hopefully, we see him then. Whatever this thing is, I get the feeling it's not going to be nice or weak."
The greens which had overgrown the ruins may have given the stone a softer appearance, but the reality of the stairs were something of a different sort as Majic rolled down them. Sprawling at the bottom, a groan escaped him while the shadow which had been plaguing the town landed soundlessly at the top, glaring down upon the young boy with two burning eyes and claws that could shred stone and flesh. His walk had turned into a nightmare when the shadow had taken him, revealing the shadow was really a fearsome beast that bested any in his nightmares, and already began to abuse him. Sitting back onto his hands, he began to slide backwards across the ancient floor and away from the beast's glare. Inside, he was bleeding fear and desire for his master to save him just as he was bleeding blood and tears on the outside.
All that came to a stop when he felt the foot of someone behind him. Eyes bathed in pure terror widened as the thoughts of bandits or rapists filled his mind. So many perils in the world could harden young boys such as himself, though he had remained quite innocent in the face of it all. No peril could have compared to what he saw over his shoulder.
"P-Pallas? Is it you?" With a foolish sense of relief coming over him, his hands were quickly grabbing at his pants and he smiled, despite all the warning signs he had seen so far. All that he cared about right then was Pallas's sword and his reputation of helping people. What he found was Pallas looking down at him with a malevolent gleam in his eye. Majic was oblivious, "I'm so glad to see you!"
"Why?"
The single word, spoken with a level of fierceness that struck Majic nearly from his legs, broke through any false sense of hope and introduced the boy to the reality of his situation. With stuttering words on his lips, Majic stood before Pallas and began to back away, his eyes reflected a truly terrible beast in them, far more than the black shadow which had come down the stairs behind him. Pallas lifted his chin slightly and snorted, as if truly disgusted with the boy. "Am I obligated to rescue the world? Where is it written that I must help the weak and the oppressed? I'm sick of your expectations of me. The mighty Rune Fighter of Baloria dies today; I'll bury him right next to you and your master."
It was startling to see just how ferocious Pallas truly was, when the sun was glowing across his shoulders and his weighted brow cast shade over his dulled eyes. He held the makings of a villain, just as he held the makings of a hero. The line that defined them was so thin that a title could be mistaken just as easily as looking at a figure standing before a setting sun. Majic's philosophical journey would be cut short, however, as his backing from the man had brought him into something even more startling. A searing pain was piercing his back, making him look to the heavens with an enlightened sense of life. The great shadow was looming around him with a great hand against his back. Two claws, resembling two knives, were impaled through his back and making two wetting points on his shirt cool on the breeze. Majic had never felt something so obscure, but it caused his fear to well in him. Death would be a shadow greater than any beast, but he was far from accepting that. Even through the soft laughing of the beast, he waited for Orphen to come to his rescue and slay all of his foes. That was his one hope.
His hope was sadly late.
"Have your fun with him, but don't let the sorcerer see him. There's nothing more formidable than a vengeful fool." Pallas said to the side as he started away from the scene. The beast idly licked some of Majic's blood from his claws and held the boy aloft, just to further the taste of the sweet liquid. Just before Pallas left, he turned to the beast and rested a hand across the hilt of his enchanted sword. Somehow, he seemed less fearsome once more. "Chiron, I have one last order for you." The beast, which abruptly stopped it's tasting, looked to him across waning shadows and chill. Pallas closed his eyes and spoke softly, as if his words drained him.
"Don't touch the girl."
With that, Pallas disappeared into the ruins and left Majic staring weakly after him. With a beastly laugh, Chiron, the imp which accompanied Pallas in his docile form, but now served his purpose in an imp's true form, gripped Majic's neck and leaned in close, speaking in a far deeper, more distorted voice than the boy remembered. "Isn't love grand?" The ghastly laugh filled the ruins once more as Majic was left to the mercy of him.
Orphen and Cleo were frantically trying to find Majic within the endless confines of the ruins. Something stale was holding strong in the air and it caused Orphen to feel a little bit more frantic about the beast than would be typically warranted. As much as Orphen hid it, he did care what happened to Majic, just as he cared what happened to Cleo. The thought of his apprentice being thrashed to pieces didn't appeal to him, so he was a tad worked up in thoughts of blood and spoils.
Coming to a clearing in the ruins, perhaps a lost ballroom in a forgotten kingdom, the sorcerer looked around for a sign of either his apprentice or his quarry, but found nothing. Something inside was telling him that they were close, so he played an instinct which would keep the other he cared for away from sharp claws and grinning teeth. "Cleo, stay here while I find Majic." he huffed and eyed the small dragon which was clinging to her. She would be okay, as long as she wasn't in the way when he found the shadow.
Cleo protested with a face equally full of concern, fully intent on freeing Majic as well, but the look she received from Orphen made her disposition a little less passionate. "I can help too, Orphen." she lulled and clutched Leki in front of her. The sorcerer had a strange look on his face, though whether it was for the morning's circumstances or the future events, she wasn't sure. In the end, his tone warded her from following, at least for a little while.
"Not this time, Cleo. Stay here. I'll be back with Majic."
Soon enough he was dashing through the ruins again, this time alone, and intent on making a thrilling rescue of his weaker apprentice. Cleo huffed a moment, finding a toppled pillar to sit on and hug Leki to her chest. Even though these moments were dire, she couldn't help but wonder where Pallas had gone. What would he say when she saw him again? Would he explain his reason for leaving? A thousand questions went through her mind, but no answers were there. This had the potential to be either the greatest love story she could dream of or the most tragic mistake in her heart. That was, perhaps, the reason her heart hadn't slowed since she first met him.
It wasn't five minutes before Leki began to perk in her arms, sensing some great evil afoot and naturally becoming a bit protective. With a squirm, the little dragon was running to another part of the ruin; a cove of sorrow from which a deep laugh was coming. "Leki! Come back!" howled Cleo and followed, unaware that she was stumbling onto a scene which would haunt her forever.
"Pallas!"
The voice was very startling as it broke the morning air. The swordsman had been casually leaning against a ruin when the sorcerer had come sprinting out of the mist, causing him to look upon his friend with slightly jaded eyes. However, he didn't even stumble as he watched the sorcerer run up, a face full of worry. "That's my name."
For some reason, it seemed like a very strange way to answer, but Orphen shrugged it off and came to a halt a few feet in front of his friend. There was something different in his eyes, Orphen thought, and something looming about his person. However, there was business to be handled first. "I'm glad I found you. That shadow that's been bothering Okenforde has taken Majic and it's somewhere in these ruins. I could really use your help finding him, Pallas." he said, dismissing all suspicion to years of friendship.
Pallas watched him coolly the entire time, not letting on truth or tale. It was ironic and Pallas would have laughed, but that was not in his character. "Is that so? What if he's already dead?" Pallas replied and leaned off of the ruin. The idea wasn't something that Orphen liked to imagine, so the words hit him like a stone. Pallas was indeed acting strange, thought he could hide it rather well. "It's a possibility, Orphen. I can't believe you've gotten so sappy. He's just a boy." the swordsman continued and came to stand right in front of the sorcerer. It was an unofficial duel in which two lives of unending trials would be set sword to spell, even before any true battle would begin. It was the last time Orphen would see his old friend through eyes not burning in hate and fear, for quickly enough, another figure joined them.
"I knew you'd come if I took your apprentice, sorcerer. So predictable, you creatures of false magic are."
The voice was serrated, catching Orphen's attention and breaking his growing concerns over how Pallas was acting. What he found when he turned was Chiron, though a far cry from the little imp obsessed with the hair of maidens that he remembered. The daylight finally caught the true practicality in the imp's form, from the long, curved claws still stained with red tears, the flawless collection of muscle and scale which allowed survival for the non-human and his demonic face, now horned and scaled around two eyes of glowing red. Orphen could barely believe it, but he knew that it was Chiron.
"Chiron!? You're the shadow that's been attacking the town!" he yelled out, nearly in disbelief. Too many things ran through his head to turn and question Pallas about it, but such a question probably would have saved him some surprise. Standing behind Orphen, Pallas's hand was resting on his sword, a mere breath away from striking out and ending the legend of Orphen with a single blow. The ease of such a deed was, perhaps, the factor in his hand being stayed. Despite all the clouds which had filled Pallas's vision and turned him into the warlord that he was now, some powerful thing inside of him left his war-torn arm to leave the Salt Abbey sword in its scabbard.
Chiron, however, had no predispositions of humanity in him. He wasn't human. "You are also fooled too easily by appearances. It's no matter now. Soon, I'll crunch your bones and absorb your magical powers, sorcerer, and restore some order to the world of magic." the demon said and ran a black tongue over sharp teeth. There was war flowing through his veins and this being of myth and legend had it out for Orphen. A lilac aura began to radiate from Chiron as pure, natural magic began to swell inside of him, showing this false idol just what the realities of the world was.
Orphen's body tightened with advance and his face began bare. A gray Pallas stood within a strike of him, his deception lost amidst Orphen's fear and concern. This wouldn't be like his other fights, even those with his bane, Bloody August. Chiron was born in magic and brutally soaked with it. No sandbagging would be allowed if he was to fend away the gorgon. With determination and resolve, the sorcerer prepared his array of attack and spell, ready to prove once again that he was not to be taken lightly.
Tragically, Chiron was still only the pawn before the king.