#ailos

“Its seems the whispers were spurred on by someone much closer to home my Lord. Someone whom you thought would always maintain your trust.”

He read the the letter over and over again, not believing the implications it made in its entirety. He stood in the inner chamber of Suel’thuash, letter in hand. Pulling the long sleeves of his onyx colored robe up to his wrists once more. He had his silver longsword on his left hip, his left hand resting on the pommel. Unable to avert his gaze from the scrawlings on the parchment. He bit down on his lower lip in thought, staring at who had signed it.

E.L

He knew she had nothing to gain from lying about this, and all the pieces of the puzzle fit. He crumpled the letter and threw it into a dark shadow of the room. First Talorei disappeared from his life of her own volition, and now he had to deal with a traitor in his midst. He had fought so hard to keep his people detached from the perils of the outside world. But, the man he trusted above all others sought to bring that down all around him. He knew what he had to do.

He turned to leave the chamber, purpose in his step. The guards that were posted at his door made to move after him, but he simply lifted a hand in his command to them. They straightened up and resumed their old positions and closed the door after him.

It took him a good few minutes to get where he was intending to. He climbed one of the two alabaster towers of his keep and came to the top, stopping at the door. With one deep breath he kicked open the door. Taeron stood at one of the windows working on something, quickly turning on his feet to look at Ailos. He was shocked, but slowly his shoulders relaxed as his nephew stomped into the room.

“Ailos, you know you can just enter normally right? Wait...I see.”

Ailos slowly pulled his sword from its scabbard on his hip, holding it parallel to the ground and taking a neutral stance. Not saying a word, simply remaining still and silent, unlike Taeron who began to plead,

“Ailos please, you’re not going to do anything. Just set down the sword and come back to us, make Suel’thuash what it is supposed to be again. What your father envisioned.”

Ailos touched the sword to the stone of the floor and slowly stepped towards the man who stood at equal height and with the same regal posture. He stopped three feet in front of him and finally spoke.

“My father died for his foolishness, and he did not even see it coming. You, on the other hand.” He chuckled in a sickening way from the back of his throat. “You will look death in the face and beg for it to not be so.”

Taeron resigned himself to not even resisting. He pulled his robe up slightly past his knees and knelt down before him, hanging his head. Ailos took his place to his side.

“I always loved you like a brother, Ailos.”

“And I you, Taeron. But justice must be met, traitor.”

In one fluid motion he lifted his sword above his head and grasped onto it with both hands, swinging downwards with all his power and cutting the head from the Magister at his feet. The head rolled forward, eyes closed and a smile on his face. The body slumped forward and then fell to the side. A steady pool of blood forming.

Ailos took his leave, sword in hand as he left the tower. Altiel awaited him at the bottom, looking to him with a flat gaze.

“Your orders, Your Excellency?”

“Smoke the rest out, bring them in for trial. Their leader is dead.”

The man nodded before going off to carry out his orders, smoke billowed from the tower behind Ailos as three mages took up position and began burning it down as a sign to all Syndicate members in his borders. It was no longer safe for them.

“You promised…” He whispered the words so quietly, to the point that even if anyone had been holding him like he so desperately wanted, they likely would not have heard them clearly. He had fallen asleep when he returned home the night before so he did not see the letter on his desk until he had sat down that morning to go over a few things. He did not think anything of the letter at first, not giving it a look until he had fully sat down and went to move it aside. His hand grazed over the metal that held it together at the middle and felt a strong thump thump.

 His eyes slowly looked down at the parchment, seeing those beautiful sapphires staring up at him. He had chosen such a ring for many reasons, but the sapphires were due to his betro- previously betrothed’s eyes shining bright just like the gems in light. He slowly stood up and kept his hands away from the paper, holding his hands out to it as if he could conjure it away.

 He stepped away slowly, shaking his head and curling his lips into his mouth, his visage contorting and showing the building anguish inside of him. Tears started to well in his eyes and he nearly tripped over the chair behind him. He quickly grabbed it and with a monstrous yell he threw it at the farthest wall, the wood shattering against it in splinters. He screamed so very loud, the sound echoing through the chamber and no doubt into the hall as he continued to do so.

 He stomped around, his hands going to his hair. He didn’t need to read the letter to know what had happened. It had happened before, and it would likely happen again if he ever made it so far with another woman. He paced around the room, finally not being able to contain his confused rage any longer he grabbed onto one of the support beams of his canopy bed and tore it off. Using it as a bludgeon to smash it against the frame of the bed and utterly destroy it as he bellowed at the wood, as if it was its fault.

 He the battered wooden beam through the nearest window, causing it to shatter. He walked over to the wall he had thrown the chair at next and smacked his forehead against it, causing a small trickle of blood to slowly stream down his face. He again screamed, the volume he was able to slowly decreasing and making his voice sound more strained. He held his fists to either side and began repeatedly striking the stones of the wall over and over again. The stones shuddering and in some places the molding cracking.

 The sickening sound of bone splintering and shattering as he just kept going. Finally when his hands were crimson in their own blood, weakened and not able to move them anymore, they slowly fell to his sides. He slid down to the ground slowly, landing on his knees and his legs slumping outwards so his rear came to the ground. He craned his head to the ceiling and then just slowly careened to his left and laid down on the stone floor. Staring at the wall, unmoving and without a sound to speak of.

 And just like that, I’m alone again.

Response to: https://taloreiembermourn.tumblr.com/post/161521456946/goodbye

“You have no idea what I am capable of….”

The very words seemed to thud and resonate against the thick obsidian like walls of the cave Ailos found himself in. The scarred landscape of the Broken Shore had given rise to so many places like this. Pockets of air trapped under the bubbling waves of Fel energy that washed out to the water.

He couldn’t see anything anymore, either the cave had collapsed or the demons he faced had really done such a number on him. All he could actually feel was the sword in his hand, its ornate handle natural in his palm. A searing pain in his left forearm, the air washing over what was likely a deep wound, and yet he still felt the weight of his shield upon it.

A sickening melody played at the stones around him, a crushing weight moving and shifting beneath a large hoof. A deep and guttural, yet regal sounding voice echoed from behind him. The hairs of his neck standing on edge, all Ailos’ primal instincts urging him to run, as well as fight all at once. “Your compatriots were weak.” The beast’s tone was prideful, yet turned to praise. “You seem a worthy challenge, Paladin.”

He was losing his head, not being able to see and only feeling the changes in the air. Listening to the sounds around him. He turned and swung the sword behind him in a spin, tripping on volcanic rock and falling onto his chest. The sword clattered away, landing on his shield arm instinctively. Which, due to the apparent wound, caused the Elf to scream in agony, hardly able to draw breath from the shock.

The voice returned, but this time it felt like a burden on his mind, like a drake was pushing his head down with his foot alone. “The Light, will not save you this time.” It whispered so loudly. The screeching of bats washed over him, causing him to roll backwards a few feet, coughing up bodily fluids.

He lay there on his back a moment, going through the motion of closing his eyes. He desperately tried reaching out to the Light through his mind. He tried so desperately to feel it. But it was not there. Even in this horrid time where he could not feel its warm embrace, he still clinged to the hope of it. He had no blade in his hand, his left arm basically rendered useless at this point. As the pain began to settle in, he felt just how bad the extent of the wound was. It was likely that the metal had collapsed in on the wound from whatever had breached his shield.

He rose to his feet slowly, that voice returning though this time it could not bear down on his mind alone. “You still yet fight, little Elf? You would still fight me, Child of Blood.”

A smirk pulled at Ailos’ lips, he moved his right hand down to his side, taking a deep breath. His own voice echoing back to the demon, though it seemed otherworldly. He began to feel a tremendous heat, one that washed through the cavern like a sea of fire. “Yes, Salzoch, I still rise to face you. As many have over the millennia, but this will be your last.”

The demon roared through the cave with his deafening laughter. “The boy paladin thinks he can fight me bare handed and banish me nonetheless!? Comical.”

“Belore medo datad riral.” The words came smooth, that same otherworldly presence echoing in his voice. That fire like feeling filling the cavern came to a head and only became more intense. In a sudden flash and blaze, the cave was alight with crimson flames streaking through the air. The Nathrezim, as it would be revealed, was finally shown in his recoil to cover his eyes. Small burn marks already forming on his skin. Corpses of Silver Hand Knights and Squires littered the ground and soon came to the Paladin’s feet.

Ailos was the very source of this light, this heat, blazing like the sun. His green eyes became overtaken with a bright red glow that pierced through the remaining shadows. His hand gripped a sword of pure flame that licked the air in its primal nature, waiting to burn the Nathrezim from this world. “Eldoar ishs falbein a othienel esheel lo”

Ailos burst forward, his left arm cradled to his chest, right arm out to the side with his conjured blade of fire in his hand. The Nathrezim prepared and launched bolts of Fel, waves of bats that carried its plague. The bolts Ailos either sidestepped or made his shoulderpads take the hit. The bats were slashed through in one quick move. He ducked down, bringing his blade closer to his chest and preparing to strike as he neared, the Nathrezim began to panic.

“Phoisham” He said flatly, the voice echoing in the room, the man maneuvering passed the demon’s guard and plunging the blade of pure flame through its chest.

He yelled, lines of red cracking and bubbling at the surface of its skin and looking like they were about to burst. The flames pulsed into its body, the sword shrinking and shrinking as they poured inwards. The demon’s screams came to a head and in a sudden burst of heat, he detonated outwards and fell into a pile of ash. The bits of armor it wore melted away, flames spewed outwards and filled the air before dissipating once more.

Natural light began to fill the small cavern once again, Ailos remained poised in his attacking position, his chest heaving while he caught his breath and tried ignoring the overwhelming amount of pain all over his body. His left arm dropped, then his right, then his entire body fell to the floor. Panting, trying to catch his breath, it felt like he would die from suffocation it was so intense.

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