Thanks to sinomin, titanfan45, and FireFoxOrenji for the reviews! And to everybody for reading! This chapter's a bit dark. Just a warning. Also, I don't own the special guest who will continually show up. He's owned by Marvel. Or the quote. I'll let y'all guess at who owns it.
Flames swept the Courtyard of Eternal Friendship, spreading out into the City of Golden Light. A loud roar ripped through the air, and the sacred seal broke. Vijantei was free. After countless millennia, he was free. The flames disappeared instantly, causing no damage to the buildings. A lady screamed. Vijantei looked down. She was in her teens, with flowing brown hair and golden-yellow eyes. Raising her hands, she yelled something and disappeared in a flash of blinding white light. Mages engaged and fell in pieces, their blood and limbs littering the ground. Entire families perished. None were spared, saved those who fled.
The City of Golden Light was thrown into panic. Vijantei spat dark energy from his mouth, demolishing building after building, setting numerous fires everywhere. Mages engaged and fell in pieces, their blood and limbs littering the ground. Entire families perished. None were spared, saved those who were able to flee.
"Alkon deriti komos vex!" Someone shouted. Pain shot through Vijantei's side, forcing him to revert to his Valkron form. "Yield, Vijantei, and your life shall be spared."
Vijantei laughed. "Rukon, my old master, what a pleasant surprise. Give me your book, now!" he roared, but Rukon stood defiantly.
"Your power has been depleted greatly. My mages have given limb and life for their City and for the book. Go back to where you belong, lick your wounds, and leave us be. Or I shall be forced to kill you." Rukon stated. Her voice was calm, silver hair blowing in the breeze, dark blue eyes piercing Vijantei's yellow tinted red ones. Cruel laughter split through the air.
"I may have only a fraction of my powers, but I'm more than enough for you! Understand, master, that I am willing to restore your city, bring your dead back to life, just give me the book!" He said, fire spouting from his nostrils. There was no deception. For once, Vijantei was being sincere. After all, why should one dimension matter when you could conquer all others? Especially that one. The one that had denied demons and emperors, fleets and armies. It was on that plane where Trigon had been obliterated. Trigon the Terrible, gone for good. His dimension became a war-ravaged land, conquered by none other than Vijantei himself. But as he conquered, his own realm was destroyed by some unknown force. He was then banished, forced to remain in Trigon's realm. It was then he discovered Rukon's betrayal. "I am being sincere. Give me your book, and I shall leave this dimension, never to return."
"Never, Vijantei. Good-bye, apprentice," Rukon muttered, a single tear falling down her face. "Good-bye, my son." She raised her hands, now glowing blood red. One tear became many, and she shook. "Kashmak inderest katulla noq!" All Vijantei saw was glowing red light, then his world went black.
Dr. Stephen Vincent Strange quenched the last of the flames. Observing rubble, the Sorcerer Supreme detected a sign of life. "Claterum rubik etirn," he whispered, removing the rubble in no time. "Quenti! Valaum! Are you okay?" Strange asked. Quenti nodded, and held her boyfriend in her arms.
"He's knocked out, Sorcerer supreme, but he'll be fine. I've healed as much as I can. Where's Master Rukon?"
Dr. Strange shook his head. "I don't know. Vijantei seems to have left. Though, I fear, not everything is as it seems. Havati lokgtom." Valaum shook, and slowly opened his eyes. Before he could say anything, Quenti clamped her lips on his. Adverting his eyes, the Sorcerer Supreme looked around. People were coming out. Torn, bleeding, bruised, some unscathed, some missing limbs. He left the couple and began to help patch up the wounded. Other mages began helping him, uttering spells and incantations, closing cuts, restoring limbs, removing bruises. It took a while, but all that could be healed were. Of course, some needed bandages, slings, casts, that sort of thing.
Rukon stood, muttering a prayer. Her tears had stopped falling, but she would forever grieve the loss of her son. Recomposing herself, Rukon headed towards the palace, hoping that survivors would be getting treated there. Her white, gold trimmed robes hung low, swiping the ground. They were stained with blood. The blood of Vijantei. The blood of her only child. "Rukon, what's wrong," Dr. Strange asked, appearing from one of the many pillars of smoking rising from the city.
She turned, a pained look in her eyes. There was no need for words between them. "Rukon, I'm sorry for your loss," Strange said. "Come now, you need to rest."
Casting one last look at the charred body of her son, she followed the Sorcerer Supreme to the palace. Halfway there, the ground started to shake. "What the," but that was all Rukon was able to say before being flung to her feet. "No," she whispered. "Strange, evacuate the survivors! Get them to Earth, now! Find my book, keep it safe." As his form disappeared, Rukon's heart sank. "Good-bye, my love." She then turned, many millennia of training her skills, honing what magic and swordplay she had been taught, Rukon went to what she knew was her last battle. As an old friend had once told her, Death is just another path, one that we all must take. She had always agreed with him, and now that quote rang in her head. "Death is just another path… well, old friend, it is time I now journey down it."
Vijantei stared at the woman standing before him. "Come now, mother. Must you die, just for a book? Give it to me, and I will spare you a painful death. I am your son, and I do not wish to kill you."
"Son? I have no son. My son died when he left to study dark magic under Tritanus, Trigon's half brother! He corrupted and killed my son. You are a monstrosity! I see now, you cannot be saved. Your blood lust will never be sated. Farewell, Vijantei," and with that, Rukon leapt. Her blade glowed an eerie blue, and she cut deep, hard, forcing what had once been her son to retreat. Blood spouted from the gash in his left arm, spilling out onto the ground and Rukon's robes.
"No mother," he cried, voice betraying a deep sense of emotional pain, "I am no monster! I am a god! A divine being who should be worshipped! Who should be feared! I will be all powerful, but first, GIVE ME THE BOOK!" He drew a blade of his own, forged from darkness, pain, and suffering. Forged in the pits of Niffelheim. Forged by Hel herself. A blade powerful enough to kill a god. The blade that brought Thor to his knees. That made the whole of Asgard tremble. That crushed Mt. Olympus. It glowed orange, with a hint of yellow and red.
Rukon charged, blade dipped towards the left. Swinging up, she caught her son's blade, throwing it back, nearly knocking the blade from his hands. "Lithtrool" Vijantei yelled, casting lightning from his hands. Rukon barely had time to block. Her sword absorbed the energy and cast it back tenfold. Vijantei jumped, leaping onto the roof of a nearby cathedral. "You see, mother, I cannot be defeated. The book, if you please." Rukon's only response was to fling a fireball at her son, which he easily returned. Rukon rolled out of the way, and the fireball splattered harmlessly on a slab of rock.
"Frojeinta" Rukon yelled. Pillars of jagged ice appeared out of the ground, smashing many of the buildings and creating a ring around the cathedral. Leaping onto the roof, Rukon twirled her blade like a master. Vijantei parried, blocked, leapt back, trying to analyze a weakness in his opponent's stance. He frowned as he realized there were none. Blocking yet another strike, Vijantei launched a kick towards Rukon's head.
Her blade flew from her hands. Rukon's head throbbed. Taking a few steps back, she summoned her blade. It flew to her hands, which shook with anger. She stared at Vijantei, giving a glare that would have made Trigon cringe. Rukon lunged, intent on carving out her son's heart. Vijantei sidestepped, and cut his mother's left arm off. Blood poured from the stump, Rukon ignored the pain, and the battle continued. Learning to fight one handed surely helped at this point. Forced to go on the defensive, Rukon saw flashes of blue, orange, yellow, and red. Her death was rapidly approaching, but she would not give up. Never. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. 'Yes, my friend. I shall now walk the path.' Storm clouds brewed overhead, and thunder boomed across the almost deserted city.
Vijantei brought on a furious onslaught. Blow after blow, he drained Rukon of her strength. Soon, she would buckle under his power. Her book would be his. After all, he was her only child. Rukon brought her blade above her head, and, with all her might, struck down. Vijantei parried, then brought the blade across Rukon's stomach, creating a deep gash. As an afterthought, he shoved his sword through her stomach, impaling the woman who loved him more than he could ever know.
As life left her, Rukon thought. How has it come to this? Where did my sweet little boy go? If she had known, countless millennia ago, that he would become this monster, would she have done it? Would she have killed her firstborn? Of course, he was her only child, but at that time… well, let's not go there. No, she couldn't have. She'd give him her love, cradle him in her arms, sing him to sleep, cuddle with him when he got scared. He was her son. She loved him. As she lay in a pool of her own blood, she could feel the sword that had impaled her leaving her stomach. "Vijantei," she whispered. There is still good in him. "Vijantei."
Putting his ear next to his mother's lips, he listened to her last words. "Yes, mother?"
"Vijantei," she whispered, "I love you." With that, she was gone. Thunder boomed overhead, and Vijantei stared. I love you. She loved him. She loved a monster. For the first time in many millennia, he felt pain in his heart. What he did not know, is that the seeds of regret had begun to blossom.