Rage. He felt the same flames burn which compelled many of his ancestors to race the vast, primordial forests of foolish beasts who have taken their whelps. Terrianis thought nothing, but seen the terror in the eyes which cried never before, and plunged his hand into the back of the first ruffian. Back then Terrianis did not notice how he tore into the protruding, ridged draconic spine of a kindred of his and tore it out with ease. Their anger turned to confusion, then to dread as they realized a children achieved such grizzly feat, and released Umbreniel at once.

  Yet her release brought no soothe upon the flames of his anger. The remaining two took flight, though reached not far, as they both sunk knee deep into the marble, their screams muffled as skin melted over their mouths. Terrianis’s right hand tightened into a fist, held within the spark of his hatred, incinerating both from within. Their eyes melted, dribbled across their cheeks, their teeth blackened before wafted away by the wind, and their heads twisted, facing him as they chuckled emptily. Both crawled out from the ground, charged as ravenous beasts, and held him down, grasped his head, stretched his lids as wide as he could whilst he whimpered, forced to glare at the two holes filled by interminable blackness.

  “Please…no….” His own voice grew high-pitched, lost its noble qualities as they lifted their daggers, its sharp point gleaming tenebrous nearing towards his throat. From the sides, he seen Umbreniel chuckle emptily, as power surged back into his arms and wrenched himself free. His hand reached for the throat of the pallid merkiin, pushed him as the anger took hold over him again. This time, blood splurged forth the fishy lips, and felt unseen hands wrap around his forearms, a faint voice graced his ears. “Father…”

  “Kill him brother. As you killed hundreds of our children.” The Shadow in the guise of his sister goaded him, He lifted his right foot and felt a surge of thrill as he envisioned the head burst like a watermelon.

  “Forgive me father.” Terrianis heard the words pour from the orkh’s pale green lips before his fist pummeled into his left cheek, hurling him across the empty alley, the sound of wood crashing echoed through the cheers of the crowd, the laughter of the children. Blood trickled down from his dragonesque, chiseled snout, remained relatively unharmed thanks to the sturdy bones of his winged ancestors.

  He was uncertain whether it was the first time he saw his blood radiating with prismatic iridescence, ripples nor whether he enjoyed the pain this much, the thrill of battle as the orkh with gaunt, faintly simian looks raised his fists instead of the dagger on his belt.

  “Come, awake my Elhyrissiar. It is merely a world of lie.” Terrianis slowly arose, calming his excited nerves.

  Once more he was no child, but stood tall, his hands covered in scales. No more the clothes irritated his unblemished skin, instead caressed him tenderly cold as the silk tautened over his figure, adorned with a light plate of many colors mingled into one. Each revealed as he adjusted his position in the alley, where the shadows gathered about Umbrenial, still cackling emptily.

  “Useless.” She said. “They shall all perish by your folly.” Both ruffians leapt at him, missed their marks as he eloquently danced out of their way.

  He focused himself, called upon the simulacrum of the blade that once tasted the blood of Twilight. He cleaved across the orkh’s torsos, expectant of a blood shower, Terrianis moved his body backwards relying upon a spatial cantrip. Though neither his blade tasted blood nor flesh, neither did blood splattered upon the cold, shadow draped marble. In the place of orkh’s wounds, a long creak segmented diagonally his torso, not to dissimilar from a crack incurred upon a precious vase. A crack which slowly expanded into a chasm, where fungoid flesh twisted and distorted within a river of blackness leaking upon his garbs and skin. Slowly it enveloped its his legs, sprawled upon the marble.

  “Awaken!” He heard Albrion’s voice, whilst received a slap from the merkiin, whose webbed, pale hand and blackened fingers wrapped about his neck, beneath the well-groomed beard of his.

  “Accept the truth, my dear Elhyrissiar.” Umbreniel loomed over him, her mouth agape into a monstrous smile cleaving the supple flesh, within a whirlpool of blackness alighted by the brilliance of Dawn. On the swirling walls, feelers, crooked arms of simians and dragons crawled towards egress, towards his face, parting open his own lips, tearing the flesh of his cheeks. Yet no pain accompanied the snapping of his broken jaw, his stretching sinew and tendon. Peace and clarity accompanied them instead.

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  They are impalpable. She is not here; this is not real. They are the ones who speak truth. Once all those limbs broke into him, Terrianis felt not the taste of gangrenous flesh, nor any other sensation. “Begone beast.” He screamed at the distorted mask.

  “All the world a stage, and all the men and women merely players! They have their exits and their entrances…” Myriad hollow voices filled his mind, faded before he could hear the end as Terrianis finally found himself back in his office. Staring at Drussaev’s pupils slowly vanishing under the folds of his epicanthic eyes. His mouth agape, gasping for air as his grip remained mighty before release came. On the sides, a daughter and a son of his laid with glassy eyes, sliced diagonally across their torsos, the rest stood behind Angura and Sussuovar. Both drenched in sweat and blood, their bodies and robes blemished by nearly a thousand small cuts healing slow by themselves.

  “We have returned.” Terrianis spoke with a calm tone. He turned towards Albrion, hearing him arise from the wreckage that once was his desk, moments ago. Blood dried upon his lips, his onyx black hair disheveled, his breath measured, no longer ragged. His hands pressed against his sides cracked by an invisible force responsible for his and the desk’s present state.

  “It seems, we may have underestimated the enemy.” Sussuovar whispered, quivering as he strained his wiry legs to keep him standing.

  Terrianis shook his head, his palms glowing in golden and azure as he mended the cracked bones in Drussaev’s throat. Then the rest it spread with a snap of his fingers, their little wounds healed, and even his collapsed table reassembled itself into its polished state. “There is no denying we made a little blunder, though I was assailed before, but never outside the throne. We hope, this incident remains within these walls.” They all nodded faintly.

  “Should we hasten Uncle Augermil?” Angura asked.

  “No. They would be of little help. We may even put them in greater danger than what awaits them on their journey.” Terrianis lingered over his desk, hit by a wave of sudden weakness. “Not until we vanished this evil. This sly and arrogant servant… no, an ally of the Night.” Revelation seared in his many-hued eyes.

  “Do you believe it is not a servant?” Drussaev inquired, free from physical strain upon his throat, less so from mental. “My Elhyrissiar.” He added quickly.

  “No, we are certain of the latter.” Terrianis answered after pondering, sensing the being different from an Aydvroegh nor were it an Infaerni. He turned towards Albrion, recalling the reports of Augermil’s subsidiary. “Your subordinate, Nawfal we believe is on the right track in his beliefs.”

  “What makes you believe his words, his speculations are right regarding the nature of the enemy?” Albrion approached fearless after the abrupt events. Though still felt the throbbing of his knuckled after they tasted the right cheek of his father, his Elhyrissiar.

  Terrianis sighed as he ruminated on the words. “The Youngest Oracle, we beseeched to tell what she, what He may know of the Shadow.” He recoiled, recalling the sensations transmitted by the words he could not repeat whilst etched into his memory. “It is a blight upon the dream of the Almodo as all Its kin, the last challenger upon our claim as were told long centuries ago by Anessarion, The First when he ascended, bestowed a vision himself by the Almodo. Regrettably, my own fear blinded my reason, formed the walls of my own doubts, but now I stared into its true essence, saw its tendrils, claws wrap about the brilliance of Dawn.”

  He relapsed into silence, none within the office dared to broke it. His eyes closed and he drew a breath, tasting the air of the office tainted by death, and of the throne room pleasant yet evil lurking in its fibers. “We now know the face of the enemy, awakened before all stirred from their slumber, a beast of timeless ages borne from the unknowable mind of the Almodo, so brace yourself my children, it shall be a fight greater than the war which taken our old realms.”

  They all stiffened, beaten their fists against their chests where their hearts drummed the notes of fear and thrill. “Angura, our dear son, it matters not what may it cost us, but the time to waken the Talos Legion has come. Prepare them to be ready for the games.” Angura nodded and vanished in haste.

  Then he turned towards Albrion. “My son, go aid Nawfal’s quest, though if you feel it may take too long or lead nowhere, return home. I shall have need of you, by her side.” Albrion bowed and after the rest received their meager commands compared to the two, he departed with Drussaev, turning back just as Terrianis vanished.

  A hollow hymn out of the eons echoed through the halls, when Night fell upon the city of Dawn.