Mato’s Tale (2)

"Are you done?" Azazel asked.

"Yes. I apologize to keep you waiting, you bastard!"

"Well, will you attack? Or will you stand there." Azazel hissed.

"I could ask the same if you. Come at us! Unless your scared?"

"Why are you provoking him?" Scillia asked.

"We need to see what he can do, better now than later. If we draw this battle out too long we will run out of aura and die. We need to end this quickly, and that means we need to get him to fight."

The sky was pale gray, clouds blotting out the sun. Cold wind whistled across the mountains and snow drifted through the air. The constant beat of Scillia's wings were the only sound to be heard across the valley as flakes of snow fell on the corpses of the dead.

Mato and Scillia never removed their eyes from Azazel, who stood perfectly still, his dead eyes locked onto them. And then he moved.

Azazel slowly raised his hand, and as he did inky black aura gathered into his palm, forming a ball of shadows that swirled and spun. And then a thin line of black shot from the ball, flying at Mato and his dragon, who swerved to the side. The dark line of aura streaked past them and high up into the sky before hitting the clouds, violently splitting them open before the aura expanded, bursting into a massive explosion of black that blotted out the sky before fading, revealing the crystal blue that was once hidden behind the clouds. A shockwave was sent through the air, causing Scillia to lose her balance and almost plummet to the ground below, but she managed to regain her posture and stay airborne.

"Your turn, boy." Azazel hissed, lowering his hand.

"Is this some kind of game to him?" Scillia asked.

"That's what I asked... and apparently it is, he is really going to let us get a free blow." His grip tightened around Etskarius's hilt. "Take me to the ground."

"What?"

"I'm going to use Etskarius."

"But what about Ballakon? The Titan King?"

"Just do it... this guy is just as much of a threat."

Scillia hesitated for a moment, then gave in. "Fine, just make it count. Be careful."

"I'll be fine." Mato said this, but as the words left his mouth, he felt uncertain of them.

Scillia landed on the ground, her talons making imprints in the snow. Mato hopped off of her back.

"Listen, if this doesn't work, I want you to do it, Immediately, understood?" Mato said.

"But what about you?"

"It doesn't matter. Just do it."

"...alright.."

Mato began to approach Azazel, but stopped next to one of the corpses. It was a girl with long black hair, her face buried in the snow, which was dyed crimson around her body.

"I'm sorry..." Mato said softly, his voice choked.

He then continued forward, holding back tears as cold wind and snow scratched his face. The snow crunched under his feet as he walked, one step after another, towards Azazel.

'I've had enough time..' he thought, glancing down at his sword, which was now humming with power and glowing a brilliant rose gold. Any snow that landed on it instantly melted.

When he was about five feet away from Azazel, he stopped, his eyes zeroed in on the demon. For a long minute, he stood there in silence, taking in the events. His memories of the life he'd led ran through his mind, as if he were watching a recording that was playing on rewind. He tightened his grasp on his weapon, as well as his resolve.

He held Etskarius above his head with both hands, then a storm swirled around the sword like a tornado, wind whipping violently around the blade as gold light filled the valley.

Azazel raised both of his hands. "Come then, show me your resolve, mortal!"

Gritting his teeth, Mato let out a war cry as he whipped the sword in a downward slash, the rose gold aura thrashing forward like a tidal wave, crashing into Azazel's body. The earth around the demon began to churn, being obliterated as the clouds parted and the earth  was split open, a deep ravine being permanently carved into the face of the world like a scar that would never heal over. The immeasurable power of the sword cut the world open, forever changing the landscape and making its mark in history.

Then the light faded from the weapon and it lost its weight, now devoid of any aura, a worthless piece of metal.

When the dust settled and the aura faded, Mato's eyes widened and his hands loosened, Etskarius dropping from his hands and clanging to the ground.

Azazel stood, unscathed, upon a newly formed cliff looking over the ravine formed from the sword.

"I will say that you've succeeded in making the largest ravine on the planet." The demon hissed. "But you've done nothing more than that."

Mato fell to his knees. He felt hopeless, his ultimate weapon not even managing to scratch his opponent. Just how strong was the demon standing before him?

Then a powerful, cold wind screamed through the valley, and as it did the entire landscape began to illuminate with a faint blue glow. Mato turned to look at Scillia as her talons were clasped together and her wings were spread wide. She was doing it, soon, her sealing magic would change the entire country, turning it into a land of ice and snow, barren and uninhabitable, and anything caught in her ice would be forever sealed no matter how powerful they were, never to be free again.

Ice began to form on the ground, slowly rising up and up, encasing Mato's legs and waist.

"What is this?" Azazel asked, trying to move his legs. "Sealing magic?"

"I may not have been able to kill you..." Mato said, "but we will seal you here. You will be trapped away by a no one, meaning that nobody will know how your story ended. No one will know where you went."

"This is where your legend ends!" Scillia spoke, "Forever encased in ice, a relic of the past never to return! You will be forgotten, or you will be remembered as the demon who abandoned his own kind!"

"I see..." Azazel hissed. Black aura lashed at the ice, but it didn't even make a dent. Mato bowed his head, letting the cold rush over his body. 'This is also where my story ends... I'm sorry I failed you... Lyra..."

And with that, the entire continent was froze over, encased in ice that would never melt. This is how Mato met his end, as well as how the Arctic was made.