Aria bit back a harsh word, tasting blood as her teeth dug into her cheek. She gave a quick yank on the chain by kicking out her leg, but the stupid Oaf attached to the other end didn’t seem to notice.
She had watched with great horror as the Daemonifer with the small head had been shackled to her before they set off, and the slight smirk on the Night Lord’s face as it happened was not missed.
Very funny, you bastard.
Normally she wouldn’t let such things get to her, but it was insulting in its simplicity, and maddening in its brilliance. The oversized-brute needed to be controlled just as she, and with a Dark-infused-chain she could not break attached to her, she was well and truly going nowhere but where they wanted her to.
“Keep up, you!” Karlock snarled, smacking it on its dumb head.
It grunted, still yet without words as it moved its large feet…
Slowly. Very, very slowly.
They had a long trip ahead of them.
“What’s its name, anyhow?” she asked Karlock as the party began its advance once more.
They would be a terrifying sight once they arrived at their destination. Dozens of varying Daemonifers being led by the Night Lord himself, who traveled well ahead on a dark horse alongside a trusted High Legate and Justicar.
Karlock made a noise as if she were an idiot for asking. “Gorathim earn their names.”
“By seeing who can count the highest?”
His large head turned in her direction, his predator glare seeming to amplify with his anger. “You look down on me, Princess, but I am not the one in chains, and I will take great pleasure in watching what comes next.” His deep voice trailed off into a manic chuckle, and Aria looked away with clenched fists.
A weight settled deep within her stomach. Surrounded by so much familiar evil and dreadful sights and sounds, it was easy to forget what was coming next.
She brushed it from mind, looking around at the changing scenery. The darklands were as they sounded— dead, rocky, and void of anything that wasn’t scorched of color. Yet the further they walked through its haze, the more trees— albeit, burned— appeared upon the land.
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She wasn’t certain where the darklands were— no one outside knew— but there was still a great amount of disappointment in discovering that it smelled just as off-putting as the Castle itself. An acrid mix of blood with a sweet undertone of decay. She hadn’t been one for flowers even as a young girl, but after so many years of foul smells invading her nostrils, she could swim in a field of them and die happy.
The smoke that seemed to linger over the land thinned, and further beyond was a hypnotic sight.
The circle was the brightest red Aria had ever seen; deep crimson, shining bright enough to burn into her eyes were she to look elsewhere.
The Night Lord sat upon his horse, right at the edge of the Crimson Circle. He lifted his chin, looking as if to speak to his army, yet his dark eyes focused onto her.
“Through this Gate, we shall reach the Lightlands.”
Gasps, snarls, and laughs of evil delight broke out across his small force. Daemonifers and Dark Wielders alike nearly dancing at the thought.
The Night Lord continued, his eyes seeming to redden as he spoke, “Where I shall finally reintroduce myself to Amor’s beloved humans.”
The cries from the Army grew stronger, and the burn of bile crawled up Aria’s throat as she stood still.
“Tonight, my children, you will feast upon the flesh of his creations. You will drink and eat until you are full, and then, shall spill and tear simply for the thrill. We will unleash terror upon this small, sleepy village, and what few we let live will run and tell the Kingdoms that the Night Lord cometh, and with him… Only darkness.”
The Army cheered— a mix of ugly, guttural sounds or high-shrieks with cackles. Surrounding her were bloodthirsty Daemonifers— massive Gorathim holding war-axes and hammers, Handlers with chained Dracolisks, Thraxes with their mutilated faces and six arms. There were even traitors to humanity amongst them— students of the Dark who turned away from the Light to serve the Night Lord, and high above flew the Skarathys— which could pick a grown man off the ground and devour him midair.
The hair on her arms stood as the reality of her life, its true terror, settled within her. She had become desensitized to the sight of such monstrosities, but she had never seen them in action…
Now I will know.
Immense guilt flooded her as they followed the Dark Lord through the Gate. The Army ran forward, and she was relieved to see her fellow captive-in-chains was in no greater hurry than she.
The Army parted around her as if she had the plague. No one would dare touch a hair on her head, and she stood alone watching them disappear one by one.
Karlock waited for her, his eyes glowing red. He pointed a large and clawed finger towards the Gate. “Don’t give me an excuse to use force,” he ordered.
One day, I’ll rip your horn off and shove it up your—
Her thought was interrupted by the motivated charge of the small-headed Gorathim, and she quickly joined his sprint so as not to be dragged by the foot.
“Pea-Nog!” she shouted angrily at his back. “Your name is Pea-Nog!”
They disappeared through the Gate.
