The stairs lead us to an underground room that seems like a cult had been there. It feels like the heart of winter, but smells of burned flesh and smoke. The old tables and chairs have all been pushed to the sides in an unorganized manner. They were pushed away to make room for what is in the middle of the floor. There is a circle of candles, which have been lit before now, as seen from the dried wax down their sides, and inside the drawn circle is a giant star and at each point there is different objects. At the top point there is the body of a dead lizard, the point to the right of that is a bowl of ashes, following that is a bear claw, then a somehow beating human heart inside of a glass case, and at the final point is small vial of blood. Inside the star is an open book with burnt pages and strange symbols on its pages that I have never seen before.

Grady moves away and behind me, affected by the scene set before us. Kahetia stops with a gasp seeing the beating human heart, but Ryneld, this mage is unaffected and approaches the circle. He walks past the circle of candles and to the middle, kneels down and picks up the book in the center. “It’s the Aaxeic language.”

“They have their own language?” Grady asks moving out from behind me seeing that there is no danger right now.

“Yes, though they do speak our language, they also have their own to communicate with each other on a personal level and away from human and Divine ears,” he moves back over to us with the leather bound burnt book in his hands. “While the Divines language has a curve to their letters, the Aaxeic’s letters are very straight and cubed.” He turns the book to show us the writing that can be seen past the seared edges. If this is a language, how does anyone understand it? To my eyes it looks like a bunch of hard symbols that mean nothing. I can’t help but wonder what this is actually saying.

“So, are you saying he is trying to summon an Aaxeic?” Kahetia askes moving beside of Ryneld when he turns the book back toward him. Her eyes look from the book to him, waiting for a response.

He reads a little bit longer, looks back to the circle and then right into my eyes. “You said your city was attacked by a dragon, right?” I nod. Why would that mean anything? Albeit, dragons are supposed to be extinct and nonexistent anymore, but still. “Do you remember the color of the dragon?”

Asking me to relive old memories right before I kill the man that caused them in the first place is a bit of a low blow, but I abide and answer the question. “Of course I do. It was a deep, dark purple. So dark that out of the light it seemed black, but only in the light of the fire it caused could you see the shimmer of the purple on its scales.”

“See, that doesn’t make any sense!” He says slamming the book shut with a bright and crazed smile. “The dragons I have read about and studied had many different colored scales, but most of them were neutral colors. Browns, forest greens, soft reds and oranges like falling leaves, but none were purple.”

I arch my brow, still trying to piece together what his logical mind is coming up with. He sees my confusion and opens the book, looking for something within its pages again. His finger taps against a page and turns it to me. “That was an Aaxeic and to be more specific, the Aaxeic Xeco.”

On the page before me, there is a painting of a woman with onyx colored hair, a purple dress adorns her body, in one hand she holds a skull and in the other she has a sword. At her feet, wrapping around her legs and then moving up behind her back is a dragon tail that leads to the body with wings; which makes it look like she has the wings, and the head of the dragon ends over her shoulder, roaring at the viewer.

Grady leans over my back and looks at the picture and then up to Ryneld, “Are you telling me that an Aaxeic attacked Michael’s home and tried to kill him?

“Well he did say that the Divines brought us here for a reason, right?” He moves the back back to his body when Grady raises back up right. Kahetia looks at the picture before her eyes shift to look at the beating heart once more. “Michael, tell us again those tapestries you saw in your dream?”

I blink and try to recall the ornate tapestries from my vivid dream. The first one showed Moogar pointing at a child and a heavenly light is over the babe’s head. As it went down, the scene changed to the child growing up in a small city. The boy had red curly hair and brown eyes and he played with a wooden sword against a friend. Later, the tapestries showed a grey skinned woman with deep ebony hair and bright yellow eyes. She wore a long deep purple dress which is frayed at the bottom and sprouting from her back are a pair of purple skinned wings. She was in the air above a man who is looking up at her. The man has red eyes and black hair with a scar over his chin and cheek. Next, the dragon was burning down the buildings and the man stood beside the dragon. The next few weren’t completely finished yet. But one showed the boy all grown up, and beside him are three more figures. A Felidal, a Kanonian, and another human male. Each one had a symbol above their heads. The blonde male had a bow and arrow above his head, the Felidal had a piece of gold inside of a hand, the Kanonian had a spell book above his head, and finally the figure in the middle. He had a bear paw above his head. Each of the four were covered in a heavenly light. I leave out the tapestry that showed Grady and them being captured by Zideka.

Ryneld nods and puts the book into his bag after Kahetia gets a good look at it. “It all makes sense! Zideka was able to destroy your whole village because Moogar has chosen you for something and Xeco feels threatened by you. She tried to kill you and thought she succeeded. In fact, she may not even know you are alive right now.” He fixes his cloak and pulls his hood off of his head, letting his ears flop free. His face goes still and eyes move around the room, ears twitching, and I know what he is doing. He is listening for anything in this underground lair. I don’t hear anything, but then again, I am just a human. He and Kahetia have animal instincts and perks, so he could hear something that I couldn’t. No noise must set him off because he pulls his hood back on. “There is someone here. I could hear them chanting in a different language, but they sound really distant. This place must be bigger than it looks.”

“Infused with magic?” Kahetia speaks up as she peels her eyes away from the heart. Grady moves from my side, picks up the jar with the heart and puts in behind one of the discarded chairs. Kahetia gives a thankful sigh and smile to him. He shrugs and stands next to her instead of me.

Ryneld shakes his head to her question. “No. More of the Adder Fang needed somewhere for their soldiers to eat and sleep until it was time to attack, and if they were attacked, they could hide in here to escape.”

“Wait,” Grady says raising up a hand and then jesters to the rest of the room. “There is only one door, if you heard chanting it would be from in here, right? But we are the only ones here.”

The three of us look around and sure enough there is no other doors to this place. Just a bunch of chairs and tables, as well as the religious circle in the middle. Where was the chanting coming from? “Look for another entrance. It’s probably hidden by a chain or a button,” I say moving away from the circle to check the right hand wall. My hands travel over the stone bricks, checking to find any hidden button or even a loose stone. From my years in hunting people, I know when they get desperate they come with crazy ways to hide themselves away. One person made a potion of water breathing to stay under the water while I hunted him. Took me a few weeks to find him, until I went into the lake for a bath one day and found him there. Needless to say, the clear water wasn’t so clear anymore.

Finding no button or loose stone on this wall, I keep moving over and pull on some of the hold torch holders. None of them are full with a burning torch. No, the only light in this room is the candles softly burning in the center. With a huff, I start to stomp on the floor. Maybe there is a stone that will open a secret path. The stomping echoes in the room and I receive weird looks from Grady and the others. I just ignore them and go back to stomping. None of my usual tricks seem to be working. Maybe Ryneld was wrong, this place probably is magically infused. After all, the lock was that kept most people outside.

Wait, magic? I look back to the circle and see that the stone that the heart was sitting on is higher up than the other stones that hold the objects. While the other three look around the walls, I move to the center and start to remove the objects one by one. Sure enough, each time I move the objects, the stones under them rise up from the ground ever so slightly. Barely noticeable, but just enough to raise suspicion. I sit the objects aside, yet no door reveals itself to us. I look back at the circle and study it for a moment. I removed all the objects, what more could there be to his puzzle? Stepping back, it is clear to see that the candles are moving toward the door because the wind is sucking the flames that way. I move over and close the door, locking out any air from coming into the small chambers. The flames move up right for a moment, before flickering toward the wall where Grady is at. I walk over beside the man and he huffs.

“I can’t find anything, Michael. I’ve checked every bloody stone on this wall,” he moves back away as I move in. My hands run over the stones feeling for any sort of displacement in their lay out. The stones on the ground were all raised, that must have revealed something that wasn’t there before.

“Check again, there has to be something,” I say to him, not taking my eyes off the wall. He moves forward and runs his palm and fingers over the stone with me.

“Michael,” he says staying perfectly still in front of the middle portion. “Come feel this.” When I move over and he steps out of the way, I can feel a small breeze coming from behind a stone. It’s not just one stone. Following in an arch pattern, there is a small breeze coming from some of those edges. This was it, something did open.

“Help me push,” I motion for Grady to come over beside me as I start to heave on these rocks. He joins me and we push the slab of rock, made to look like bricks, away from the wall to reveal another passage way. The slab falls against the passage wall and we both take a moment to catch our breaths. “Good job, boy,” I pat his back with a smile, and his smile extends, proud of himself for finding that. “Come on guys,” I wave my hand to gesture for the other two to join us.

We head down the hallway that is light with a few torches along the walk. The previous room was cold, but as we walk I can feel the air thicken and grow even colder. Until a specific point. We pass through an arch way and everything because hot. Like we are close to a blazing fire. Magic must have a weird way of affecting certain places it has become a part of. We travel down further, and I can now hear the chanting myself that Ryneld was hearing earlier. It must be the Aaxeic language because I do not understand what is being said at all, but I can tell one thing. That the voice belongs to man. That deep gruff tone couldn’t belong to any woman, even if that women was Xeco.

We happen upon a wooden door at the end of this passage way. Behind it, I can hear the very loud chanting as well as the sounds of burning fires. I kneel down to be eye level with the lock on the door. With one eye closed, I press my face against the hole to try and see through to the other side. I can barely see anything, but I do see a dark figure with his hands raised to the ceiling and there is a large fire burning behind him. I stand back up and press on the door. It creaks a little, but the man doesn’t hear it over his loud chanting and the fire crackling.

I look to the three and now they each have their weapons drawn, ready to end this. With a shaky breath, I draw my sword and turn back to the door. My hand sits on the handle for a moment longer than it should have.

“We are with you, Michael. You don’t have to do this alone,” Grady whispers behind me, with one hand on my back. He’s right. I have come this far, travelled all this way, taken too many lives to stop now. My brows furrow and I kick the door open. This was no time for sneaking, I wanted this man to know that I was here to finish the job.

The door crashes against the stones and we walk through the opening. “You know, knocking works just as well,” the man stopped his chanting and turned to face us. The first thing I see is those sick red eyes. They seem to radiate a sort of ominous glow around them that could strike fear into women and children all around. Next notable feature is that scar. The scar that has plagued my dreams for years. That along with the red eyes was what I remembered most about this man. Besides the features on his face, his black hair falls past his shoulders and over his back. It looks like the glistening feathers of a crow were plucked and placed on to his head. On his body, he is wearing brown leather pants, a white shirt with a black vest. A top of those garments is a cloak like the dark purple that Xeco adorns herself in.

“Zideka,” I sneer his name past my lips, glaring at him, but he merely smirks back at me.

He lowers his arms and moves to walk toward me. “Michael Bearenzi,” he starts out with a chuckle as the fire still burns brightly behind him. “It has been years. How are your parents?”

I growl and my muscles tighten. “You bastard! You know damn well how they are!”

“And I see you have brought a few friends along with you to help,” he completely ignores my growl and looks to the three people behind me. “The Divines think you couldn’t handle me yourself, huh? That your mission you have been on for years couldn’t be completed by your own hand.” My grip on my sword tightens and my shoulders hunch up like an animal that is being corner. “Pitiful if you ask me. You’ve had to rely on these three to come this far.”

“Shut up! These three have nothing to do with this mission!” I wave my free hand to the side to try and push his claims from my head. “They have their own quests in mind, everything that has happened has been by my hand and my tenacity.”

“Oh really? Wasn’t it Grady that slew Weharla? Wasn’t it also Grady who distracted that spider?” He smirks with a finger under his chin. My eyes widen, so he did know I was coming. “Yes, I knew. I have been preparing and so has my mistress. The champion of Moogar will be killed tonight, and that prophecy will end fall.”

Prophecy? What prophecy? I never knew anything of a prophecy. My anger rises and I am ready to charge, that is until Grady walks up next to me and stands firmly beside of me. “It wasn’t me. Michael saved my life and he came up with the plan to kill Weharla. We all had a part in this journey and we will have a part in killing you. For Michael.”

Zideka burst out into a fit of laughter. It sounds like a jester laughing, crazed and wild, uncontrollable and all around awkward to listen to. “You think you can beat me? The champion of Xeco?” The fire erupts behind him and his purple cloak shudders in the wind that blows around him. He rises into the air above the fire. The flames extend their reach up to his feet and swirl around his body, encasing him within their flickering fingers. The fire explodes out from his body and shows a new form. He has claws on his hands and feet, that robe that was on his body now extend into dragon wings and his hair is now cut short on his head; it almost looks like spikes. “Where are your Divines now?” He laughs into the air and throws a fireball toward us.

“Michael!” Grady pushes me out of the way and Kahetia the same for Ryneld. The heat was smoldering. It felt like my hair got singed just by being near it. I raise back up as quick as I can before the man could have another chance to fire another blast toward us.

“Spread out! Don’t get near each other. He can’t hit all of us that way!” Thankfully, they listen to me and all spread out across the room. Zideka keeps his attention on me as I run and do my best to dodge his fireballs. Kahetia pulls out her throwing knives and chucks them into the back of the dragon man. He sneers and turns toward her, breathing fire in her direction. She climbs up the wall and jumps over him, effectively dodging his attack. While he is distracted with Kahetia, Grady looses his arrows into the sides of the beast, each tip piercing the human skin. If Zideka had cursed himself to have dragon skin then this battle would be a lot harder. An arrow punctures his side and when he turns to look at Grady, Ryneld fires a spell at the face of the man. It explodes into a bright light, successfully stunning the beast to give Kahetia a chance to get up close and personal. She leaps off a wall and clambers up the back of the creature, doing her best to puncture his wings. He roars in pain and slams his back against a wall, a sickening crack echoes in the room. The Felidal closes her eyes falls against the wall and onto the ground below her. With her in her weakened state, Zideka throws a fireball down at the wounded thief.

Ryneld screams out a spell and just as the fireball leaves Zideka’s hand, a barrier appears around our wounded companion. The fire explodes around the magical barrier, leaving the woman unharmed. Grady distracts the beast again which gives me enough time to run over and check on Kahetia. I help her up and give her my shoulder to steady herself.

“I’m fine,” She hisses as her paw holds the back of her head. Once back on her feet, she tries to push me away. With a hard blink, she seems to be right back into the swing of things.

Zideka now has his sights on Grady and Ryneld. “Get away from this!” He yells putting up the same barrier around the two men, except it is only walls. The walls keep them in a box and unable to get away. With them captured within the confines, the beast lines up a fireball to take out his captives.

“You aren’t taking him, you bastard,” I yell running up toward the beast and throw one of my daggers through his wings, making a hole in the webbing flesh. The new hole causes the man to falter in the air and the fireball misses its target, but only by a few inches. This distraction also gives the two men enough time to leave the confines. Zideka’s concentration on the barriers faltered when he fell to the ground, leaving the two men to run free. Zideka turns toward me with a growl. His wings are littered with holes from Kahetia’s daggers and my throwing knives. He tries to go back into the air, but it flows right through the holes, leaving him grounded for the rest of the battle.

“Enough!” He yells and it echoes throughout the stone room. The roar leaves us confused and dazed by its sheer power. The next thing I know, each of my friends are pinned against the walls with a magical glue that secures their waist to the stones behind them. With Ryneld, the glue also coats his wand, leaving him from using his magic anytime soon. “This battle isn’t with you three. It’s with him,” Zideka raises his hand toward me. In his hand, a sword begins to form from the dark energy he is harnessing. His wings disappear and that dark power travels down his arm to add to the length of his sword. The tip is coated with dried blood and I know whose blood it is.

The image of my father being stabbed through the chest flashes into my mind’s eye. The scream of agony echoes through my ears and the smell of smoke fills my nostrils. My mind takes me back to that time when I was a child, back to the moment that started this quest.

“I see the recognition in your eyes. You know this sword,” He says with a smirk plastering his features. He moves the sword back to his mouth and his forked tongue licks over the dried blood on the steel. My blood boils through my veins seeing him disgrace my father’s blood like this. “Your parents were quit fun to kill.”

My fist clench and I charge at the man with no hesitation. Our swords clash. The clashing of the steel swords ring throughout the room. The battle is hard for me. I may have been training with this sword for years of my life, but I have never had to fight an Aaxeic infused man before. I have taken on the largest guards, the craftiest targets, and the strongest beast. But this man is proving me wrong in my confidence in my own skills.

My friends are silent and I can’t help but wonder if they have been smothered by the glue that contained their waist. I don’t have time to worry. This man is showing his true strength now that it is one on one. Moogar, please give me the strength to vanquish this man. When my prayer is finished, I feel power course through my body. Strength beyond my known power, and swiftness of a deer flutters in my feet. Zideka swings his sword with a mighty roar accompanying the swing. Without thinking, I raise my sword and block the attack from clashing with my side. The energy from his swing shutters through his arm. It was as if an immovable object met an unstoppable force. The repercussion of his attack leaves him dazed and vulnerable. He staggers backwards and regains his composure, just in time for him to block my swift attack.

My blade clashes against his with an unimaginable force that whittle downs his power and his stamina. He doesn’t stop his attack, though. Each time he swings, I now side step as if I saw his attack before he could even perform it. The sword falls down by my side and while he is leaned over, my hand meets with his face, a grotesque sound comes from the impact. He falls on to his rear and back, holding his bleeding nose with his free hand.

I walk up to the man at a tantalizing pace. I want him to remember this moment before I strike him down. Make him regret killing my parents and starting this war between me and him that led to the end of his life. He looks up at me when I reach his body. My foot pressed against his chest, keeping him pinned to the ground. He tries to raise his sword, but I knock it from his hand with ease. “Any last words?” I ask with a sneer. My brows furrow and teeth grit, as I raise my sword to become level with his chest.

“Xeco, my love, take away the prideful sight of my foe,” he prays with closed eyes and a flushed face.

I raise my sword to sing, when my world becomes darkened. The shock of my loss of sight causes me to stagger forward, missing my attack and letting the man rise and regain his strength. My hand reaches up to my face, hoping that I can still see some semblance of the outline. Sadly, there is nothing but darkness. A permeant black world is all I can see now.

“Michael!” The cry of Grady pricks my ears. “What’s wrong?”

“Grady… I can’t see!” My voice shows the true panic that I am feeling from not being able to see. I admit, my eyesight was shite but this is a new level of not being able to see. I hear the footsteps of Zideka growing closer and I stand back up to try and defend myself from his attacks. The footsteps echo around me, making it hard to pinpoint where he is actually coming from. It sounds as if he is everyone around me all at once. I know this is impossible, but I can’t tell otherwise.

“Behind you!” Grady says to me.

“No, I feel him in front of me,” I argue with him even though I have no knowledge of where the man actually is. I just know that the footsteps are slightly louder in front of me.

“He is behind you,” The man cries, “Please! Believe me!” I try to attack forward, but then I feel something prick at the hairs on my neck. With a swift motion, I turn in time to block the attack from the man. The footsteps stagger backwards and leaves me alone for another minute to let my confusion to sink in.

How can I possibly win this? All my confidence leaves my body and lets my brain and fear wreak havoc on my mind and body. My hands start shaking and my breath begins rapid and uneven. There is no way to win a sword fight if I don’t know where my enemy is.

“You need to listen to me, Michael,” Grady calls out again when the footsteps start walking around me.

He is right, but how can I trust his decision. He is an archer, now a swordsman. He doesn’t understand the rules of battle, when it’s best to block, how to stun your enemy and then how to properly attack to disarm the enemy. I have always trusted in my own power, my own sight and ability to keep me alive. I have done this for years on my own. I have never needed anyone before. But this is a new area that I have never been.

I need help.

“Alright, Grady. Don’t let me down, boy,” I stand in a defensive position with my knees bent, arms locks and hands tight around the hilt of my sword.

The boy is silent for a while and I am scared that maybe Zideka shut the lad up. “Strike in front of you, now!” His voice finally echoes in my ears and I do as he says. I feel my sword scrape against something, followed by a groan of pain.

“Back up!”

I jump backwards, having to take a moment to regain my balance from the unknown landing. Right before I jumped, I felt the wind of his sword brush against my face. If I hadn’t listened to Grady, I would have died there.

“Swing to the left!”

I swing to my left and my blade lands another hit across what I can assume is the man’s back. The target was broader than my first hit. Another loud groan hits my ear drums, followed by an angered sneer.

“Duck!”

I kneel down to the ground and hear the sound of the sword slashing the air above me. After years of being on my own and relying on my own skills, having to rely on someone else is off putting, but I am grateful for Grady. He isn’t a swordsman but he is keeping me alive.

“Slash forward!”

Keeping at my knelt state, I swing my sword forward and feel it connect with the man’s legs. The loud cry of pain is all I can hear as my sword embeds itself into the flesh of the man. With a heavy pull, I retrieve my sword from his legs and hear Zideka fall back on to the ground, or at least stagger back a lot. Now the man has a gash on his back and in his legs, he must be getting weak by now.

“Walk forward with your sword up.”

I stand up right and feel my heart pounding inside of my chest, the sound echoing into my ears. With careful steps, I place one foot directly in front of the other, making my way toward the injured enemy.

“Swing down!”

My sword heaves into the air before clashing down onto another metal blade. The vibrations shoot through my arm.

“Kick forward.”

That’s unconventional, but I do just that. My foot meets contact with what I could assume is the injured legs. Another loud groan pricks my ears as well as the clambering clanking of his sword on to the stones below him. He is defenseless and unarmed, perfect time to strike.

“End it.”

Grady’s voice is cold, unwavering and harsh. A tone I have not heard from the lad before. It almost scares me, but with the heat of battle and the sensation of not being able to see, my adrenaline won’t let me fear anything. I thrust my sword forward and am met with resistance, but my sword doesn’t stop. When the scream comes from in front me, I know my sword has found its mark. I twist my sword and can feel it move the organs inside of my victim. He cries out more, nothing more than mere pathetic sounds of distress. With one swift motion, I yank my sword out, spilling the innards of the man onto the floor with a sloppy wet sound.

My vision comes back to me, the curse lifted after I killed Zideka. The scene before me is nothing I have only ever dreamed about. He is sitting on his knees in front of me, injured and beaten, mouth gaping with blood trickling from the sides. Looking lower, I can see the opening between his chest and stomach area. The blood pools at my feet and the man’s face becomes a deathly pale, all color leaving his body and his eyes glaze over when he looks to the ceiling.

“I failed you….my love,” he croaks out before falling face first into his own blood.

I did it.

I finally did it.