Darkness

Cloaked in an abyssal, black hue, they rose from the ground. Thick enigmatic tendrils dove towards Perses. These haunting appendages wrapped themselves around him. Unable to rise to his feet quickly enough, he was swallowed and apprehended by those shadows. The tendrils contorted Perse's limbs, seizing him with insurmountable force.

"Then there was today. Limping back home, humiliated with defeat, my worst fears became realized. That fiend was just too harrowing. That foe alone was enough to convince me it was time to leave. I intended to seek out the kingdom's army myself to convince her to flee with me. 

"HEY STOP IT ALREAD-"

Before Perses could attempt to reason with him, a serpentined shadow wrapped its way around his mouth and head, encasing him in its grip. Machia didn't react to Perse's interruption as he continued to talk to no one in particular. 

"But then that's when the worst happened. I don't know how she did it. I don't know how she found out, but she did. Worst still, a messenger survived."

Machia chewed on his lip anxiously as he recited what had happened with a shaky tone. He looked out towards the kingdom. His gaze followed that of the sun's shadow. A nervous smile protruded from his face as he did so.

"The fiend alone was trouble, but now, at this rate, we'd have to oppose the empire, the king too. Even together, such a feat is impossible. It doesn't matter how much strength I've garnered. I must resort to other options. That's where you come in.

As if snapping out of it, he looked at Perses with realization. 

"Perses the truth right that's all you want, isn't it? If I tell you, you'll be cooperative, won't you?"

Machia desperately looked to Perses with a face of putrid fake sorrow. Perses' expression revealed only bewilderment, only fear. "Haahh". With a sigh, Machia turned away, disappointed. Once more, he gazed up at the sun as it decorated him with its orange glow. 

"The truth is, Perses, the kingdom's army has been eliminated. According to Father, this happened about a week ago. That's thousands of fathers, brothers of the kingdom, gone, dead, just like that. The king, as twisted as he is won't forgive that. Even the Emperor won't, that is, unless she submits. She won't, of course. After all, she wants you, Perses.

Perses was doing his best to pay attention despite the rigorous constraints that bound him. Upon hearing his name mentioned, he perked up. He wanted desperately to ask Machia what he meant, why he was being treated as such. But his mouth was still encased by the serpentine-like shadow coiled around his head. It was as if Machia was afraid of what he might say.

"Amelia, she wants you, her brother, the army opposed her, so they died. She's already shown that she'll kill as many people as it takes. So where does that even leave me?"

Machia grabbed his head with his hands and leaned back, and with thick, tense self-loathing, he laughed. A pitiful, weak expression coated his eyes as he further derailed into talking to himself. 

"I'm watching her now, you know. She's fast. It will only take a day for her to arrive. She's coming for you, not me, I'm certain of it..."

Machia took one last pitiful glance at the sun before he approached Perses. The shadows pulled and squeezed Perses; he couldn't speak, nor could he move. He could only watch Machia's figure with disbelief. 

'Machia, he, did he always'

With a gentle hand, Machia raised his finger to Perse's head. There was no shakiness to his hand. He looked down on Perses with empty authority. With undaunting confidence, Machia tapped Perse's forehead. 

'Hate me so much.'

A tear was all Perses could do to react as his mind darkened. Crumpling to the floor, the shadows encasing him dispersed. He tried his best to look up to Machia to ask him, beg him to tell him more. But his mind was clouded, and a deep darkness soon embraced his consciousness.

################

The doors swung open. Effortlessly, the inconceivably large doors opened up to a grand hall. The room was ornamented with various furniture, pained glass and sculptures. The luxury of the room had only grown as time passed.

Crazed eyes masked by an aura of indifference gazed upon the figures in the room. Instantly, his eyes were drawn to the throne, where an all too familiar imposter sat. With a startled expression, the purple-robed man turned to face the intruder with a welcoming smile.

"Greetings, blessed, I missed you earlier. It seems you failed to draw that boy to our side, correct?

Hostility radiated from the man perched on the throne. Using a challenging tone, he hid his discomfort. 

"My Emperor, it is simply safer this way. In this state, he is the perfect hostage."

"Thump"

A light figure dropped to the ground, released from the Machia's grasp. Sprawled across the throne room, his figure drew everyone's attention. Machia noticed the apprehensive gaze of his teacher, noting that everyone else had maintained their indifference. This situation ignited a smouldering nostalgia inside of him. 

Just as it had been in the past, the Emperor's entourage stood before him. 

'Three giants, two mages this time I see.'

"Well my lord. What is the plan?"

With a feigned respect, Machia looked up at the Emperor. The Emperor looked thoughtfully at Machia, straining his gaze for deceit within the youth's features.

"What's there to plan? We simply beat her into submission. Then, we move our attention to the more volatile threat. According to my disciple you believe you can eliminate this threat with the girl's help?"

"That is my intention. The fiend is strong, insurmountable so. Sending mundane troops would only serve to distract. However... They may be a necessary distraction. I hope you understand."

Machia's authoritative words would have caused contention, that is, had anyone else delivered them. But his tone maintained an uncanny respect.

"So you wish to subdue the girl yourself, to reserve our forces for the fiend then?"

"Yes your majesty, this is what I intend."

With a stifled, reluctant groan, the Emperor leaned back on his throne. With a withered expression, he grumbled out a response.

"Fine, have it your way. I will temporarily place you in charge of my force. If you are to fail, though-"

"I already understand, your majesty, but I won't fail. We can't afford to have her die on us, so please leave it to me."

With a cruel scorn, the Emperor looked down on the one that had interrupted him. A festering rage was noticeable, but a helpless sigh was the first to escape the Emperor's throat. Of course, Machia normally would not be so careless as to interrupt someone higher than himself. But right now, Machia was far from normal. Even the idea of losing repulsed, enraged and terrified him.

'Everything I've worked for. I just need to save her.'

The king kneeled centrally in the throne room. He appeared to be bewildered by Machia's forthright attitude. But he kept silent regardless, occasionally turning to look at the figure that remained crumpled on the floor. 

"The girl, to have heartlessly killed so many. What did you make of her Blessed. Can you win?"

"I can't lose."