In the dying of the light

A Story by Magellan Dissa

A man who has lost everything goes forth to meet his death not knowing the inner darkness he will awaken within his own soul.

Artorias gasped as he took in a sharp intake of the crisp winter air, he let his weary eyes take in the snow covered forest around him. It was quiet, almost death like, only the sound of a small trickling stream perpetrated the blanket of silence as the water flowed slowly downhill. The silver glow of the moonlight silhouetted the Anulii Mountains in the distance casting long shadows across the mountainous land.

Artorias looked down to find himself dressed in a tunic. Yet he was not cold. It was the middle of winter, the trees and the ground covered in a blanket of snow and ice. Artorias spotted a small stream nearby, feeling the need to drink he dropped out his knees beside the stream, scooping up great handfuls of the cold water in his mouth.

He stopped as he felt a presence behind him. The hairs on his neck stood on end as the presences gaze wandered over him. His heart began to pump furiously in his chest as he readied himself for the possibility of violence, his fists clenched, and muscles taut. Artorias spun round, quickly getting to his feet. As he saw her face he fell back down again, he felt the anger and fear quickly ebb from his body.

She stood mere feet away, dressed in a white silk dress that flowed from her shoulders to waist .The dress highlighting her slim elegant body, her cold marble white skin perfectly contrasting her flowing black hair. Artorias felt his heart lurch as her emerald eyes met his in the glow of the moonlight. She smiled at him, filling Artorias’s body with warmth that he had not felt in some time. Her gaze lingered on him as he instinctively moved towards her, his body yearning to stay within her radiant aura. Each foot step felt like an eternity as he slowly approached her, the women’s smile broadened as he drew near.

As Artorias reached the crest of the bank he saw tears form in her eyes, the tears falling like rain drops from her face. Her eyes turning from a look of joy to that of pity as her smile slowly began to fade. Artorias reached out desperately for her but she pulled back suddenly. She shook her head fervently as more tears streamed down her face, her mouth muttering silently to herself. Artorias stood frozen, shocked by her rejection, “I tried” he felt himself cry, “I never meant for this to happen” his own words feeling hollow in his mind. The continued to woman back away, stumbling in the deep snow.

A young boy appeared behind the women, his face lighting up as he saw Artorias. He reached out for him but the women held him back despite the boys silent pleas. Artorias hesitantly moved towards them, he found himself desperate to be near them, seeing them together somehow felt familiar. He continued his approach but the women backed away suddenly, her smile turning form one of joy to one of fear. The women’s eyes bored in Artorias’s own, begging him not to continue but he found himself inexorably drawn towards her. “I’m so sorry” he cried out, tears now running freely from his own eyes.

The women in white let out a wordless cry as her face grew wide in terror, a large crimson patch blossoming in her abdomen. The blood staining the silk dress a deep red as it poured freely from the unseen wound. The boy fell back, pain spreading through his body like wildfire. A large red gash appeared around the boy’s throat, he tried to call out but found himself gasping for air as blood pumped furiously from the wound. He dropped to his knees desperately clutching his throat as the blood spilled out the large ragged tear in the boy’s throat. The blood turning the white snow a crimson red.

The boys eyes locked on to Artorias’s own, forcing him to watch as he slowly bled to death, alone and afraid. Artorias clamped his hands over his ears trying to stem the surge of the boys dying screams as they tore at his heart like daggers. The woman collapsed to the ground, clutching her stomach desperately trying to stem the blood flow, it seeped between her fingers staining her dress.

Artorias's eyes fixed on the women’s as the last of her blood seeped in to the ground. You betrayed us she mouthed as her body went limp. Artorias let out a cry of anguish, slamming his fists in to the ground violently; “In the dying of the light, you will find me” whispered a voice inside Artorias’s head. He stopped suddenly and stared at the two lifeless bodies in front of him, anger and loss threatening to consume him in a raging wave of raw emotion. “In the dying of the light, you will find me…

Artorias woke suddenly. His heart racing. His mind still racing with visions of death and pain. He looked down to see his hand bloodied, he dropped the dagger in his hand, the blade having cut a deep gash in his palm. Artorias let out a sigh and took in his surroundings as his body relaxed. His eyes wandered over the large circular tent that sheltered him, lanterns hung from the central pole that dominated the middle of the tent. The scent of incense clung to the air like a thick mist.

A soft hand touched his back, Artorias spun round, fist raised, but he immediately relaxed as he saw the face beside him. Her soft touch soothing the flames of violence in his breast; Evelynn raised herself from the bed so that she was sat upright. Artorias turned away; he felt her eyes bore in to him, her gaze full of pity and concern. Evelynn laid a hand on Artorias’s shoulder, her fingers tracing the long jagged scars running down his back. She felt the long scar that ran along her cheek, a stark reminder of the lives they both led…

“I felt your presence” said Artorias, a hint of anger creeping in to his voice. Evelynn sighed and stood up from the bed. She threw on a robe, Artorias watched as she clothed herself; the sunlight that streamed in from the tent opening silhouetting her slender form. Evelynn turned to look at Artorias, “how did you Know” her voice calm and steady? Artorias grunted before standing, “I’ve felt the touch of a sorceress before” he growled defensively. “Did you not think I would notice as powerful presence as yours”, Evelynn steeled herself for what she was about to come.

“Artorias there is something that deeply concerns me; it is powerful, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Artorias turned away and strode to the far end of the tent. “I told you never to scry my mind” he said angrily, the thought of another inside his dreams and thoughts gnawing away at him. Evelynn walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm, “It’s leaching on to your soul and it’s getting stronger”. Artorias shrugged off her hand, “It can’t be a coincidence that your nightmares are getting worse; you have to let go of the past otherwise it’ll destroy you”. Artorias turned on her, his fists clenched in rage; “how can I move on when her blood is on my hands. What would you have me do, forget? Evelynn eyes fell to the floor, she looked in to her eyes her death was not your fault, the longer you hold on to it the more it will erode your soul away”.

Artorias turned his head towards the entrance of the tent as a rabble of voices could be heard outside, “well after today hopefully that won’t matter”…

Artorias picked up an ornate breastplate that rested against the large chests in the middle of the tent. He began to fasten it around his chest, feeling the thick scars on the leather armour around his chest. “I accepted the King’s challenge “he muttered quietly; Evelynn clenched her fists angrily “and this is what you do to escape your pain” she spat. She lurched forward and grabbed Artorias by the shoulders. He stood there and stared in to her copper eyes. “I have yet to pay for my crimes” he said softly, there was a sharp stinging sensation as Evelynn’s hand connected with his face. Artorias stumbled backwards from the force of the blow.

“You would throw your life away so casually! All so you can repent for events that you had no control over”! Artorias reached down and picked Evelynn laid a hand on his chest, “please stop this, you don’t have to do this”. Artorias looked down at her, his hand brushing her hair off her face. “My life is consumed with fire and rage, which is all I have left. Whether it is tomorrow or the next day I will fall with my blade in my hand. He reached down to pick up his great sword from the ground and fastened it to his back. “Please don’t do this” implored Evelynn, tears of anger and sorrow both cascading form her copper eyes. He met her gaze once more, “when we met, I warned you getting attached was dangerous. You seek refuge from your own demons in me. You sought to save me from my fate in order achieve redemption form your own sins. I can be the man you need me to be, I am a dead man walking”. With that Artorias left the tent…

The throne room seemed to stretch on forever. Marble columns soared hundreds of metres in the air, light streamed in from large stain glass windows at the far end of the room. The coloured light displaying a myriad of colours across the blank canvas of the white marble floor. Artorias approached the centre of the chamber, his body calm and composed as it always was before battle. Through his many years of conflict, the voice of fear within his mind had been dulled to a mere whisper. Something was different this time. Before he had always been confident of his own abilities to see him through, but this time he knew he was outmatched. The calibre of his opponent was far beyond anything he’d ever come up against.

The thought of willingly walking in to the cold embrace of his death was a weird if not unsettling experience. “Another man who wishes to claim my head steps forth” bellowed a deep voice from the other end of the chamber. King Janus stood from his throne; he strode towards Artorias, his body tall and muscular for his old age. He wore a marble white robe that clung to his body. Artorias noted the familiar shape of a dagger concealed beneath the folds of his robe as he approached. King Janus stopped a few feet away, Artorias bowed respectfully whilst carefully maintaining eye contact. “Ah a man of courtesy” laughed Janus, “ at least you have more grace than those fools” he said as he gestured to a pile of mangled bodies in the corner of the room. Their blood merely minutes old, flies had already begun to swarm around them like hungry vultures around a dead carcass.

“ I hear my brother has offered you a reward of ten thousand rupels if you are able to provide proof of my death. That b*****d has no claim to my kingdom”, Janus spat at the ground in disgust. As if on cue a tall resplendent warrior strode out from a hidden a entrance. Artorias turned to look at him, his body encased in gleaming bronze covered armour. The rays of the sun bouncing of him to create an aura of golden radiance around him as he walked. The shadows themselves seemed to retreat as he elegantly moved across the room. “My champion Ingavar” announced Janus proudly as he bowed before Janus and then Artorias. Janus slowly backed off as Ingavar took his position in the centre of the chamber.

He drew a large two handed war hammer that was strapped to his back. Artorias drew his own sword, the black steel making a rasping sound as it left its sheath . He took the hilt in both hands and adopted a defensive stance .His eyed up his opponent, watching Ingavar slowly circle the chamber with Artorias doing the same. He stood at least seven feet tall, his towering frame completely dwarfing Artorias even though he himself was considered tall amongst other men. Ingavar risked a quick glance at Janus who simply nodded for them to begin…

Artorias barely saw the first blow coming, the head of the war hammer coming directly at his head, Artorias rolled instinctively barely avoiding having his skull crushed. As Artorias rolled to his feet he immediately swung his blade low forcing Ingavar to jump back. The two warriors began to circle one another, their eyes fixed on one another’s searching for any the faintest hint of movement. Artorias sprung forward suddenly bringing his blade down in two handed slash, Ingavar deflected the blow with the shaft of his war hammer redirecting the force of the blow to the ground. A less experienced warrior may have stumbled but Artorias knew better and rolled forward avoiding Ingavar’s immediate counter. He thrust upwards immediately, his blade glancing of Ingvar’s shoulder pauldron , the bronze armour shrieking as if in agony as the blade bit in to it.

Ingavar spun on his heel delivering a powerful kick to Artorias side sending him sprawling across the room. The familiar coppery taste of blood filled Artorias’s mouth as he got to his feet. His ribs burned like hellfire though he was grateful that nothing was broken. Artorias steadied himself as Ingavar slowly approached, his war hammer held across his chest. Artorias tightened the grip on his sword, his heart pounded in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Artorias sprung forward , throwing himself aside as the war hammer crashed down beside him. The marble flagstones exploding form the sheer force of the blow. Artorias slashed down, his blade flashed through the air as he struck out at Ingavar’s abdomen. The blade bit in to Ingavar’s flesh as it tore open his armour. Ingavar let out a grunt as he swung his war hammer round in a wide arc. Artorias quickly deflected the blow with a two handed guard but felt himself stumble backwards from the sheer strength of the strike.

There was a sharp crack as Ingavar’s fist crashed in to the side of Artorias’s face. Another blow connected with his chest, causing Artorias to double over in pain. Ingavar roared triumphantly! He threw his war hammer aside and drew a long blade from a sheath at his waist. Artorias barely saw it coming. He side stepped just in time so that the blade glanced of his shoulder and not his throat. The pain was horrendous as it exploded throughout his body. Artorias clutched at the deep gash in his shoulder.

Slaughter him… The voice was barely a whisper but he could feel the malice behind them. , Artorias shook his head fervently trying to ignore the voice Ingavar seeing his opponent’s brief lapse in concentration lunged forward. Artorias rolled aside, barely avoiding being impaled by Ingavar. The whispering soon began to grow. The voice getting louder and louder until it was a cacophony of screaming. The words clawing away at his conscious mind. He could feel it, the rage building up inside him. Its raw energy flowing in to every cell within his body. Artorias let out a cry and charged…

The pain was gone, its fiery claws receeding . Artorias felt new energy flood back in to his limbs. Ingavar tried to dodge the incoming blow but he was too slow, he had over extended himself. Artorias’s blade bit deep in to his shoulder, he let out a gasp as the blade’s keen edge tore through ligaments and tendons. Ingavar twisted his body forcing Artorias to withdraw his blade. Where had this man’s sudden surge of strength come from he thought to himself as he parried another blow aside? Artorias kept up the pace, his blade darting through the air, being parried or deflected by Ingavar’s own blade. Artorias felt his mind race as another blow connected with Ingavar, his blade cutting open his cheek. He could smell the blood in the air, it’s coppery aroma filling his nostrils and driving his bloodlust in to even more of a frenzy.

Artorias side stepped a horizontal slash and buried his great sword deep in to Ingavar’s hip. The giant of a man let out a cry as he fell to one knee, his sword bloodied and broken at his side . Artorias slid his weapon free and raised it high ready to deliver the killing blow. Ingavar raised his head, the shouts and cries of his king were distant in his ear. The words inaudible through the thudding sound of his own heart beat within his ears. He met Artorias’s gaze, he felt the icy hands of death creep down his spine as he stared in the bottomless black pits that were Artorias’s eyes.

Artorias pulled back his sword, savouring the moment to come. Ingavar closed his eyes as he accepted his defeat. He never felt the blow. He looked up confused, his heart still thudding in his chest. Artorias stood frozen .His muscles locked up. His bodyas rigid as stone. Ingavar stared at him, at the blade that was mere inches from his neck. He almost wanted to laugh. This sheer stroke of fate was almost impossible to comprehend. He slumped backwards. Groaning as his injuries flared up . Artorias did not move. Ingavar peered closely at Artorias, the man’s eyes searching for any kind of movement. Mere moments ago this man had moved with inhuman speed and strength .Even managing to break the guard of a giant such as himself.

Ingavar rolled back his head and let out a bellow of laughter. Artorias’s eyes followed Ingavar as he slowly got to his feet. One moment he had been filled with such energy and power. The next his muscles had seized up. He tried to move but found that his muscles would not respond. From his finger to his arms he couldn’t move any of them. He could only stand there and watch. Ingavar grinned devilishly, his eyes lighting up as he realised his own victory was at hand.

The blow sent Artorias flying through the air. He crashed in to a wall feel multiple ribs break under the impact. Artorias felt life flood back in to his body. Searing hot pain flooded his body as he tried to stop himself from falling unconscious, he spat out a mouthful of blood. Ingavar slowly limped over to him before delivering a kick to face. Artorias felt his jaw shatter. Artorias tried to push himself to his feet but found that arm was broken. A blood stained bone protruding from the ruined mess that was his right arm. Ingavar grunted as he knelt down to face Artorias. “I have enjoyed this fight” hissed Ingavar, “ I will take great pleasure in killing you my friend. This time there will be no second chances”…

Ingavar kicked his body to the ground before mercilessly striking Artorias with a vicious flurry of punches and kicks. Artorias felt the bones in his face crack and break as his face was turned in to a bloody pulp. He could no longer see through the swelling on his face. He could feel his body desperately clinging to the last vestigial of life. Ingavar looked down at the bloody pulp that lay on the ground. He curled his fists in rage as he saw the man’s chest rise weakly. Artorias closed his eyes, the faces of his wife and child appearing before him. Their eyes filled with anguish. His son looked so much like him with his dark brown hair and blue eyes. He missed the touch of his wife’s kind and gentle heart. The feeling of her long black hair between his fingers. He frowned why were they so sad? He would be joining them soon…

He finally understood, he had spent so many years trying to find an honourable death. To escape the pain and guilt of his losing his family; their memories constantly torturing his soul as he refused to acknowledge their death. His wife’s last words before he had left for battle that fateful day “take care”. He had failed them both by giving in to his grief, he couldn’t let himself fail them one more time… “I can’t die here. I won’t die here” he hissed in a weak voice. “ Say the words” commanded a voice in his mind… Ingavar drew back his fist to deliver the final blow. “I surrender my soul” mouthed Artorias before he blacked out…

Ingavar retreated immediately as the light in the room faded. The shadows seemed to explode outwards like a dark miasma of pure darkness. The once radiant light that illuminated the room being greedily engulfed by the darkness as it spread across the room. “ Finish him” cried King Janus from the other side of the chamber, Ingavar moved forwards in to the dark shroud, his eyes searching desperately for the body of Artorias. He could feel the cruel jaws of fear gnaw away at him.

The dark shroud continued to grow. It almost took up the entire throne room with only a handful of small light sources resisting the touch of the encroaching darkness. Ingavar heart raced in his chest as realised that Artorias’s body was gone. The man’s body had been beaten and broken. There was simply no way he could… Ingavar’s thoughts were interrupted by a deep guttural growl that seemed to come from all around him. He shuddered. The room had become almost deathly cold. He could see his own breath in the air.

The growl intensified. Ingavar heard the heavy sound of footsteps, and a loud scraping noise as something sharp was dragged along the floor. “Where are you” he cried out in terror, the fear finally taking over his body? There was another growl that caused the hairs on Ingavar’s neck to stand up. Ingavar squinted as the shroud of darkness parted in front of him. The creature was tall, taller than him even. It was at least seven foot tall, its body covered in layers upon layers of thick black carapace. Sharp black spines erupted from its back and forearms. Its thick muscular build caused it to hunch over slightly as it approached Ingavar.

It’s cold black eyes locked on to Ingavar’s own. It’s face broke in to what appeared to be a snarl, Ingavar stumbled backwards as he the creature bared its many rows of long fangs at him. The creature charged. The roar the creature made as it moved was deafening, the sounds sending Ingavar’s ears ringing. The creature was on him before he even had a chance to react, its thick talons tearing through Ingavar’s breast plate like shredding the tender flesh beneath. Ingavar screamed as he tried to scramble away desperately clutching the wound in his chest as his blood pumped out on to the floor in a great crimson pool.

Ingavar could no longer hear the screams and pleas of his King. He slumped to the ground and stared up in to the soulless eyes of the creature that stood before him. He felt his body grow cold as death’s hands clutched at him. Ingavar fell back, one of the creatures talons tearing out his throat as he did so. Life finally leaving his body. The creature roared in triumph before punching its hand through his chest and tearing out his heart.

Janus looked around desperately for any sign of his champion, the screams emanating from within the dark mist had set him on edge. A cold bead of sweat trickled down his face as there was a sickening crunching sound. He cowered behind his throne, desperately hoping that Ingavar would appear at any moment. But he never came… The creature casually strode out form amongst the concealing veil of the mist. Janus scrambled backwards against the far wall. He felt himself loose his bladder as it’d dark hulking body towered over him. The smell of death clung to it . The creature reached down and picked Janus up in one fell swoop, lifting him off the ground. He struggled to breath in its vice like grip, the creature squeezed harder, smiling as it did so, clearly enjoying the great deal of pain that Janus was in.

It leaned in close to Janus face, “ I have come for your soul” growled the creature in a bestial voice. Janus had to hold back the urge to retch as the smell of blood and gore filled his nostrils. The creature ran one of its talons down Janus’s face, opening a long deep gash down Janus’s cheek. Janus squirmed as the creature relished in his discomfort. The creature dropped Janus to the ground. His body landing heavily against the cold marble slabs. “ Please have mer”- Janus’s life was cut short as the creature plunged both of its claws in to Janus’s chest before tearing open his chest. It howled in elation as it held Janus’s mangled body above its head and bathed in the fountain of blood that erupted out of the large gaping maw that was his chest. It threw the body to the ground as the last droplets of blood spilled out on to the floor. The creature bent down and began feasting on Janus’s flesh, its teeth ferociously tearing out large chunks as it greedily devoured its meal…

Artorias awoke to the sound of voices. His hands immediately reaching out for his sword, he immediately regretting the decision as a pounding headache caused him to lie back down. He tried to move his body but was met by agonising pain. He heard the voices around him stop talking as he groaned in pain. “He’s awake muttered a male voice behind him. Artorias’s eyes darted around looking for his sword, he saw it sheathed and strapped to the carriage that he was in. He tried again to reach for it but found himself too exhausted. His body feeling as if it had been drained of life entirely.

Artorias stared at the sky through his heavy eyelids, large grey clouds slowly moving past him. A cold winter breeze blew in causing him to shiver. A pale silver moon was high in the night sky. Its light illuminating the dirt road that the carriage and its passengers found themselves on. The thought of rest was so tempting like a beautiful seductress that beckoned him closer. But he knew he could not rest while he was so vulnerable.

He felt a hand raise his head, bringing a cup of fresh cold water to his lips. He greedily gulped it down realising just how thirsty he truly was. “Not so fast” whispered a familiar voice beside him as Artorias continued to gulp down the water at an astonishing rate. The words felt both calming and reassuring. “ Am I dead” groaned Artorias, the voice laughed, Evelynn moved in to view. Her face immediately turning in to one of concern. “You look like death” she whispered. Artorias groaned as a searing pain flared up in his chest. “Hush now” said Evelynn, she placed a hand on to Artorias’s chest. A dim golden hue emanated from her hand. Artorias felt the pain subside as quickly as it had come.

“Where are we” croaked Artorias, Evelynn took a deep breath , readying herself for what she had to tell him. “You’ve been unconscious for two weeks” Artorias made to protest but she placed a hand on his chest and he immediately laid back down. “Currently we’re travelling through the Solaris forest”. Artorias stared up at her, his face a mask of confusion. “I’ve been unconscious for two weeks he muttered to himself? Artorias peered down at his body, for the first time noticing the array of bandages that had been expertly tied around the majority of his chest and arms.

“ What happened to me” he whispered? Evelynn took his right arm and up turned it to reveal a small black mark burned in to his wrist. “ You fought against King Janus’s champion. Artorias went to say something but Evelynn shushed him with a finger to his mouth. “ I was worried after you didn’t emerge from the throne room”. Evelynn looked away for a moment, she steeled herself for what she was about to say. “I went in after you. What I saw”… Artorias gripped her hand tightly. He could see the fear evident in her eyes.

“ I found you in a pool of blood. Your body was badly beaten though by looking at the recent scars I found on your body, you seemed to have somehow miraculously recovered from some fatal injuries. I’ve had to use some magic to restore some broken bones and a few minor cuts but nothing compared to the healing that would be required to heal those wounds that caused the scars on your body”. Artorias winced as his skull started pounding. He screwed his eyes shut as he tried to remember . “ I don’t remember any of it” muttered Artorias’s shamefully. He could see how much pain he had caused Evelynn. The look of pity and anquish in her eyes cut deeper in to his heart than any knife.

“ Something happened in that throne room Artorias. Something dark. The bodies of the king and his champion had seemingly been mutilated by some rabid beast. Their body parts were strewn across the floor. Their innards, torn to ribbons”. Artorias winced again as brief images of violence and bloodshed shot across his mind. The anger. The rage. The emotions filling him for a brief second causing him to cry out, he clawed at his face and bandages. As if trying to rid himself of some unforeseen taint. “ Evelynn held his face in her hands, a tear falling from her cheek. The warmth of her hands against his skin caused Artorias to stop, “ I did something. Something terrible”…

“I know” whispered Evelynn, “ that mark that marks your wrist shows you are linked with the accursed. Creatures of the shadow realm. I cannot tell you why this creature has chosen you Artorias but you and it are now bonded. Your souls are one”.

Artorias looked away, his mind still trying to comprehend what Evelynn had just told him. “I let it in he whispered”, he clenched his fists angrily. “I felt its presence, there was a voice that kept driving me, I felt so powerful. I could feel myself giving in to my anger with every swing of my word, I let it consume me”.Evelynn simply nodded, she helped Artorias sit up. He took a brief moment to look at the surrounding woodlands, the grey pines covered in early winter snows.

“ I am no expert on the accursed but I do know of them. They are rare but exceptionally dangerous creatures who feed on the raw emotions of others. It is not unheard of them to grant temporary strength only for them to steal it away in a moment of weakness. This makes it easier for a person to surrender to their temptations”. Artorias threw his arms around Evelynn’s shoulders. Evelynn almost drew back, shocked by Artorias’s sudden outburst. She pulled him closer, taking him in to her embrace. “I don’t know what to do” said Artorias, his voice choked with emotion. “Evelynn drew back before looking him in the eye, she recited an old verse that she had once read. “ I will be your strength to fight the shadows. And your candle in the dark…