For Family

He barely managed to catch the edge of the jutting earth wall with his arm, shielding his chest from a direct blow before being flung away. Gabriel blinked at the scene before him before his eyes narrowed, anger bubbled at the sight of Theoran's eyes glowing red.

"What have you done?" he seethed, "You fool!"

The mana around Theoran, once pure now bore the scent of corruption. The collar of his shirt burned away, revealing a blood-red pendant that glowed against Theoran's skin, turning it black. "Everything I do," he said solemnly, "is for the sake of my family." He raised a hand, palm facing downwards. The earth beneath their feet rumbled and shook before chucks of it broke away and levitated in the air.

At first, Gabriel was plainly shocked. Was that an ARC around Lord Theoran's neck? But that didn't make any sense because those who already had their own resonance cores couldn't use ARCs. Whatever it was, it was obviously affecting Theoran's mana, multiplying it and corrupting it. But after hearing those words leave the older man's mouth, the initial shock melted away into anger.

"Don't kid yourself," Gabriel mocked, "you power-hungry fool." Without hesitation or patience, he blitzed forward, this time unconstrained in the use of his mana, going at full force and full speed towards the head of House Javanis. This time, it wasn't simple as turning the tide of the High Paladin's whims. Instead, the shards of earth flexed and shot at him with a speed to match, disrupting his advance and forcing him on the defensive. Worst yet the ground below was now uneven and vibrating with power as more pieces broke off into the air, making Gabriel stumble in his steps.

Lord Theoran was laughing, his voice sounding hoarse as though he'd been screaming for hours, "How does it feel now, Lord High Paladin!? Having a taste of your own medicine!"

He didn't really know what Theoran was talking about. Gabriel, for one, never felt or understood the oppression and the stress of having a subpar resonance core. Asking him to relate to the feelings of helplessness felt by those who suppressed in a magic-reliant society was like asking a wolf to understand the struggles of a deer.

Either way, watching a man fall to madness willingly always made Gabriel feel all kinds of sick. He desired nothing more than to obliterate the man from his sight, all veins of patience expended from his body.

A flying rock caught him in the arm. Gabriel ignored the red burn of pain and simply rushed forward, a new spark of concentration and rage-fueled his advance. Each bolt of rock thrown his way was dodged with precision, impeding his advance as little as possible. They caught in the fabric of his shirt and his pants, cutting streaks into his skin. But as long as he could move forward, Gabriel cared little about the injuries that were drawn upon his body.

When he arrived just before Theoran and slashed at him with electricity singing with his swing, the old man who hadn't moved from the spot stepped backward, evading what would have been a fatal blow. He wasted no time to counterattack, stepping back forward to let Gabriel a taste of his fist.

Even with the enhancement of corrupted mana that boiled beneath Theoran's skin, Gabriel was still faster, able to disengage from the dangers thrust his way.

Theoran's eyes were becoming crazed, red from the glow of corrupted mana gathering and the blood that pooled to the surface, tears of blood streaking his cheeks. His laughter was already becoming muddled with growls and the blackened skin around the neck spread, up his neck and down the length of his arms. "What happened to your power now!" he bellowed, "What of the Lord High Paladin's prowess?"

Gabriel scoffed, looking at the blood coating his blade. It was dark and thick as though it'd been long spilled, rot and rust already festering. With his right hand, he rang his fingers through a cut on his arm before mixing it with that dark viscous blood. In a low voice he chanted, "Oh Mother, listen to my pitiful plead…" a flame that emitted no light was like a black cloud of smoke that hovered at his fingertips.

Again the hovering blocks of earth were angled in his way. Gabriel did not rush forth this time and simply dodged them with little effort.

"Where did your spirit go!?" Theoran howled, not noticing how the black flame, guise in the darkness of nightfall flew his way. It was too late when he did, uttering nothing more than a surprised gasp as he looked down, the black dancing flame collided with his chest where the corruption festered.

The ground spazzed, soil fluttered like waves on a turbulent sea and even Gabriel struggled to keep his balance. Theoran cried like a wounded animal, the earth magic mixing with and the corruption in his body. He sank his knees, frozen and trembling. Witchfire alone usually didn't have any noticeable effects on people and things but mixed with corrupted mana it could encourage and accelerate the infestation. Corruption, overtime would surely result in demonic possession. But happening this quickly…

The earth around them eventually slowed and frozen into an abstract landscape of arches dunes and cliffs. Gabriel walked up to the trembling figure of Lord Theoran's body, kicking him to reveal that pathetic visage scrunched up in pain.

The Lord's skin was not completely blackened, blood flowing from all his orifices. He looked absolutely disgusting, looking up with insane laughter. But he was in too much pain and had too little energy to even laugh and could only hold his lips up in what looked to be something between a grimace and sneer.

"You… Damned hypocrite…" He sneered through clenched teeth before wet gurgling sounds overtook his lips as more blood poured out.

Gabriel clicked his tongue, brows furrowed and nose scrunched in anger and disgust, "Are you really calling me a hypocrite?" he chided. Earth magic and witchcraft were illegal in Adros but compared that to using illegal ARCs would be like comparing shoplifting to murder. "Saying that everything you did was for your family when all your did was foolishly clamor for power that you did not need? Ridiculous," he said as he aimed his blade for Theoran's neck.

Black blood soaked the earth beneath his feet. Gabriel took a breath and sighed before stepping away. He wasn't done yet.

Anita had to get to the rest of her family. But back in the mansion, there was already a storm of footsteps and unfamiliar voices. Gabriel did not come alone. The weight of dread upon her was nauseating. Oh Solas please, please let her family be alright!

Just as she was running down the hall, someone rounded the corner and pointed her way, "There!" a familiar voice called. Anita could feel mana being caste behind her and instantly she reacted, calling forth her power and diffusing the mana that was congregating in the air.

"Ah!" her assailant cried when the sphere was water and mana she was creating wavered and dispersed, knocking her over. If Anita remembered correctly, this girl was one of the new recruits and she made the fatal error of dropping her sword, which now upon inspection was already dyed a vibrant crimson red. Anita wanted to puke.

The girl, Nima was her name if Anita remembered correctly, gasped as she realized her error and reached for her sword. But Anita was faster and stole is right out of her grasps. Annoyance twisted her delicate visage as she lunged at Anita to wrestle with her like an angered cat.

"Stop this! Get off of me!" Anita yelled, flinging the smaller girl off. Horror gripped her heart as she recalled Nima being a kind-hearted and shy character back when Anita met her at the Knight's headquarters.

No…please, let this all be a dream.

There was commotion above them, a thicket of mana along with rustling muffled banging noise. The sounds snapped Anita out of her stupor and reminded her of her father's words. She still had to protect her mother and sister.

There was no hope for Nima to match Anita in strength, who easily shrugged the smaller girl off her now that she regained purpose and focus. But Nima was like a fierce little demon that refused to relent even when beaten down. Again, she tried to call her magic, which Anita disrupted the second later.

Anita didn't have time to mess around with this crazy girl! Abandoning the defensive, she called upon her flames and thrust them towards the younger knight. Nima, who raised her arms to shield herself screamed when fire scorched both her sleeves and the skin beneath. Using this opportunity, Anita stepped closer and hit the girl right in the temple with the pommel of the sword. Nima collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, hitting the ground with a thud. Anita's breath was heavy and labored a she looked down at the fallen female knight, dropping the sword in horror.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself. Without wasting any more time, Anita sprinted towards the staircase and up the curved steps. The door to the master bedroom was open and she could feel the presence of people within. Some muffled voices and a heavy cloud of mana.

The door was ajar enough to peer inside. Anita regretted that she ever did.