Chapter 8: Going Twice

Arwyn, with an irritating smile, flipped open his sketchbook to a blank, fresh page. The sounds of the paper echoed throughout the hall.

Cedric's smirk faded dark. "Now, now, Wynnie. There's no need to rush." His gaze flicked to the man beside Arwyn, legs crossed. "So, it's you, I assume? 'Fortissimum' of all sketches."

Nathaniel snickered, sighing as he stood up. "Pleasure to meet you," he said, eyeing the Ring of Nyx around Cedric's ring finger. It emanated a faint aura, grim and shadowy. "Nice ring you've got there."

"Thanks. It's one of a kind, really." Cedric walked up on stage, and brushed his fingers against Marco's painting. "You know, Arlene had potential to be an Erasurer, till a Delacroix threw it off to nowhere." Tiny bits of solid red paint powder stuck on Cedric's fingers as he touched it. The powder dissolved to nothing.

Arwyn brought his new-drawn katana from yesterday, successfully hiding it from Marco and Ria. He gripped the handle, clenching his teeth to hold his anger in. Still, he maintained his smirk, and spoke boldly. "Don't talk about her like that. Family's family, right, Unc?"

Cedric tilted his head, a slow, predatory grin creeping back onto his face. "Family, huh? Funny how you cling to that word, Wynnie." He flexed his hand, the Ring of Nyx catching the chandelier's light, its emerald eyes glinting like a snake poised to strike.

Nathaniel shifted, his casual air tightening into something sharper. "Cute history lesson, Cedric. But let's skip to the part where you tell us what you're really after." He stepped closer, hands loose at his sides, but his eyes locked on the ring.

Arwyn's grip on the katana tightened, the sketchbook trembling slightly under his arm. He'd drawn the blade with every ounce of focus he could muster. A sleek, deadly curve inked into reality. "Yeah, Unc. Spit it out. What's the game? You're not here for Marco's art, that's for damn sure."

Cedric chuckled, low and guttural, wiping the last traces of paint dust from his fingers. "Perceptive, nephew. I'll give you that much." He turned, pacing the stage like a king surveying his court, the empty hall amplifying each step. "This painting is… a monument for the Delacroix bloodline, you know? These two families, the Satsumas and the Delacroixs are well-known to be the destined battle."

Nathaniel breathed a bit heavier than before, but remained steady. With a chuckle, he said with a confident tone. "The Satsumas never had a chance against the Delacroixs. Genuinely."

"We'll see. We'll see." Cedric sat at the edge of the stage, head rested on his arm. "Chaos is a fine distraction. While the rabble flee, I'll take what's mine. This painting is a revolution. A revolution to all the people from the other side."

Arwyn's heart pounded, the sketchbook's weight pulling at him. "Not if I stop you first." His smirk returned, shaky but defiant. "You're not the only one who can draw a fight."

Nathaniel glanced back, nodding slightly, nonchalant-style. "Kid's got a point."

Cedric laughed. A cold, jagged sound. He raised his hand, the Ring of Nyx glowing brighter. "Then draw, nephew. Show me what Marco's blood taught you."

The air thickened, heavy with intent. Arwyn's pencil scratched the page, lines forming fast and fierce. Cedric's shadow loomed larger, the ring's aura coiling like smoke. Nathaniel cracked his knuckles, ready.

Outside, the screams grew louder. The hall trembled.

"Really, kid?" Nathaniel's voice echoed, hollow and paper-thin. "Don't let him monologue. Monologues are for losers."

Arwyn's pencil hovered over his sketchbook. "Noted."

Cedric flicked his wrist. The Ring of Nyx shrieked, tendrils of shadow erupting from the floor. They coiled into serpentine Erasures, ink-black, glitching, jaws unhinged.

"Erasures, Wynnie!" Cedric crooned. "Your grandfather's favorite party trick!"

Arwyn's scar flared. Focus.

He slashed the katana, its edge slicing through the first Erasure like smoke. The creature dissolved into static, but two more lunged. Arwyn pivoted, sketching mid-dodge–

'Draw.'

A shuriken, jagged and crude. He slapped the page.

Whoosh!

Three shurikens materialized, embedding themselves in the Erasures' cores. They screeched, collapsing into puddles of ink.

"Cute," Cedric sneered. "But let's raise the stakes."

The Ring of Nyx pulsed. The hall's paintings twisted, frames cracking as their subjects peeled free. A cavalry of sketched knights, their armor dripping liquid shadow.

"Arwyn! The chandelier!" Nathaniel's voice crackled, his form flickering like a bad signal.

Arwyn glanced up. The chandelier swayed, crystals refracting Cedric's corrupted light.

'Got it.'

He sketched a hook, hurling it at the fixture. The chain snapped, and the chandelier plummeted. Cedric leapt back as it exploded, glass shards impaling his knight sketches.

"Distract him!" Nathaniel barked.

"You're a sketch," Cedric spat. "A joke!"

"Jokes can still punch," Nathaniel grinned.

Arwyn charged, katana raised. Cedric disappeared in a flash, and the shadows coalesced into a jagged broadsword. Steel clashed, sparks flying.

"You're weak, Wynnie," Cedric hissed. "Just like your idiot father."

Arwyn's scar burned. 

5,000 poules.

'Use them.'

He feinted left, then sketched a flash grenade mid-swing. 

Whoosh!

The explosion blinded Cedric, his shadows recoiling. Arwyn's katana pierced his shoulder–

"ENOUGH!"

The Ring of Nyx detonated, a shockwave of purple darkness hurling them across the hall. He slammed into a pillar, sketchbook skidding away.

"Fuck… The ring…"

But Nathaniel stood up, wiping the dust off his shoulders, though he winced. "I've seen worse, kid. Get up."

"All I need anyway, is that ring."

Cedric chuckled. He stood in the middle of the debris, gently pulling out his ring. "The Ring of Nyx. The ring of death, they said." 

He walked, passing Arwyn, then stopped at Nathaniel. 

"Then it's yours."

He pressed the ring into Nathaniel's hand, then turned to the stage. "But that painting's mine."

Nathaniel clutched the ring, his form stabilizing as its aura pulsed through him. "Wait… what?"

Cedric smirked, yanking Crimson in Morning Light from the wall. "You wanted the ring, sketch. I wanted the key." He raised the painting, and the Ring of Nyx, still faintly connected to him, flared one last time. A rift tore open in the air, a swirling void of pitch-black ink and shadow, whispering with distant screams. 

"Terra Incognita awaits. We meet there, nephew, where our fight awaits, when you're ready to fight me. The Satsumas, and the Delacroix."

Arwyn lunged, katana slashing. "You're… not getting away!"

But Cedric stepped through the rift, painting in hand. The void snapped shut, leaving silence and wreckage.

"Shit!" Arwyn dropped to his knees, panting, scar throbbing. "He's gone…"

Nathaniel twirled the Ring of Nyx between his fingers, edges sharp again. "Not for long, kid. We've got this now." He smirked, holding it up. "And you're still breathing. That's round one to us."

Steps came clacking down the hallway.

Nathaniel whispered. "It's them. Hide your sword."

Without a word, he slid the katana under a seat. Reachable, but barely anyone could see it. Then–

Bang!

The door burst open. It was Ria. She breathed deep, clothes damp with sweat, though her hair remained smooth as it was before.

"Arwyn!"

She ran past Nathaniel, stopping in front of Arwyn. He was covered in bruises, but not enough to think he was fighting an all-powerful Erasurer. "My goodness… We need to go. Now."

Her eyes darted around the wrecked hall. Shattered chandelier, splintered stage, ink smears staining the floor. "Did the invasion hit this place too?"

"Yeah," Arwyn muttered, rubbing his neck, forcing his smirk down. "Got messy. I, uh, tripped when everyone started running." He shot Nathaniel at a quick glance.

'Keep it cool.'

Nathaniel nodded subtly, pocketing the Ring of Nyx. "Kid's clumsy. I tried dragging him out, but he's stubborn as a mule." His tone was light, thinking what Arwyn was thinking.

Ria narrowed her eyes, scanning Arwyn's bruises. "Tripped, huh? You look like you fell down ten flights of stairs." She huffed, brushing dust off her sleeve. "Whatever… Just move it. Marco's outside, freaking out. We're leaving before the looters show up."

Arwyn grabbed his sketchbook from the floor, tucking it under his arm. The weight of it steadied him, even as his ribs ached. "Fine. Let's go." 

He limped toward the door, keeping the katana's hiding spot in his peripheral vision. Can't leave that behind.

Nathaniel fell into step beside him, voice low. "Nice cover. She's got no clue." He smirked, twirling the ring in his pocket.

Arwyn's scar tingled, a faint echo of the fight. "Cedric's got the painting..."

Ria glanced over her shoulder, impatient. "Quit mumbling, you two! Marco's gonna have a heart attack if we don't hustle." She shoved the door wider, revealing the chaos outside. Smoke curled in the air, distant shouts, glass crunching underfoot.

Arwyn stepped out, the cool wind of the night biting his bruised skin. He kept his expression neutral, burying the adrenaline still pumping through him. 

Ria couldn't know. Not about the sketches, not about Cedric, not about Terra Incognita. Never.

Nathaniel flanked him, playing the loyal housekeeper, but his eyes glinted with something sharper. "We'll grab that sword later," he muttered. "For now, act normal."

"Normal's overrated," Arwyn shot back under his breath, limping after Ria. Marco's silhouette loomed ahead, pacing by the car, hands tearing at his already rumpled hair.

"What the hell, Arwyn?!" Marco's voice cracked as they approached. "Tell me you didn't get caught up in that mess! God… and you have those bruises all over!"

Arwyn shrugged, wincing. "Just bad timing, Dad. Got knocked around when the crowd bolted. Sorry about the painting..."

"Just... fuck the painting. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll live," Arwyn said, forcing a grin. "Tough night, huh?"

Ria laughed, despite her worries. "Just get in."

They piled into the car. Arwyn slumped in the back beside Nathaniel. The engine revved up, tires crushing the gravel. Marco muttered curses about auctions and thieves, oblivious to the real stakes.

Arwyn kept his tone low. "So, you got all four rings now, huh?"

"Yeah."

He smiled weakly. "So… You're going home."

Nathaniel laughed quietly as Marco and Ria continued their banter. As he put the final ring in his velvet box, his face softened. He was going home.

But, he also had plans. "You're coming."

Arwyn's brows arched. "Huh? What do you mean I'm coming–"

"Erasures, Arwyn. They'll come after you, from the other world." He reached in his pocket, bringing out a small piece of paper. It was slowly ripping. "This is the Wall Paper. It shows the conditions of the barrier between this Earth and Terra Incognita."

His breathing deepened, hands clenching. "You mean…" and he realized. "No man… I can't leave Dad like this."

"No choice kid. Either watch your whole family die as the barrier breaks, or you win, stronger than ever."