God of Nothing

Aleph downed his cup, appreciating the sweet taste of alcohol. It tasted much better than the swill Sleepy Joe served, that's for sure. He held out the empty cup, and a hand immediately shot out to refill it.

"I thought you were a lightweight," Vaynard said, amused, as he took a draught right out of the bottle. "but then again, this bottle is really good quality."

"Mmm." Aleph grunted, nursing his cup as he looked at the night sky. The pair was up a random balcony, sharing the drink that they stole from Iona. They snuck away with it before the squad could return from training, finding this quiet corner of the fortress somehow. They drank in almost complete silence, occasionally broken by the tinkling of glass. It could have been a relaxing, even pleasant night, if it werent for the massive shadow that ducked in and out of the clouds far above.

Vaynard followed his eyes, which immediately narrowed when he saw it. "That thing's been up there for weeks. It lobs jets of fire at the city whenever it thinks our guard is down." He sighed, leaving the half empty bottle on the floor as he got up and stretched.

"Should we retaliate?" Aleph asked, eyes unmoving at the massive serpent that bore down on them.

"I would love to strike it down, but whenever the bastard would swoop low enough to attack, I see the black knight on its back, eyes blazing in challenge." Vaynard complained. He said it lightly, but when Aleph looked, he could see that the young ruler was straining. His voice was a little too controlled, a little too measured. Aleph lauded the man. His rage at his father being taken had not led him to recklessness. Aleph had no doubt that if this man wasn't responsible for an entire country, he would have already been up there, clashing against the demon king. It was a situation where the shackles of the crown were literally all that was keeping him alive.

"The gift I gave you shall find its way to the enemy's heart soon enough, my friend." Aleph told him. Vaynard finally pulled his eyes away from the dragon above, meeting Aleph's eyes for a time. He clutched at something on his side, likely at the pocket where the little box that contained Aleph's present for him was in. Vaynard smiled, a little forced still, but somewhat appreciated all the same, before he picked the bottle back up and resumed their session.

"...Are you sure about this, Aleph?" He asked. His voice didn't exude any anger this time, more of a trepidation, a quiver of uncertainty. Aleph felt that he wasn't talking about the dragon anymore.

Wisps of fog escaped his mouth as he breathed out, sending wine smelling air out into the night. Aleph leaned back, still  relaxed but ever prepared, as he stared at the retreating shape of the dragon above.

"If they don't succeed, we stand no chance."

__________________________________

While getting away with their lives could be interpreted as a win, Lord Vaynard still craved a more tangible mark of besting their foes. With threats beginning to circle them like wolves harrying a flock of sheep, Rayse understood the need to break out of it somehow. What he didn't agree with was their target.

His brows furrowed as he tinkered with the dragon scales in his hand, applying a heated artifact in order to shape the metal. He lost practically all of it in that final attack that let them escape against Agony. He smirked at the memory. Sure it took him draining one artifact, almost completely depleting Sonia's heart as well as worsening the scarring on his body, but he knew he got him good. He'd been grinning through the hollow pain in his core since that day, just imagining the endless shower of blades upon his enemy. A corner of his mind hoped that the beast was dead, but even that same one knew it was a delusion. Still, it was an empowered version of the attack that pinned the demon lord down for a time. Even a herald wouldn't have gotten out unscathed.

Yes, he tried reveling through the pain, but what tempered it were the scenes that accompany it. A pair of graves, crushed in demonic wood, greedily devouring them in their sick pleasure…

"–Hey!" Brandon shouted in his ear, startling him from his musings. Shards of unfinished metal flopped to the floor, tumbling downwards in loud clatter.

"Dude, I'm busy!" he snapped, but Brandon just stared at him, unimpressed.

"I've been calling you for ages, man. Come outside, Carrack wants a word."

Still fuming, Rayse sighed and went outside, leaving his mess on the floor. He was already in a terrible mood, with nagging aches both physical and emotional. Whatever Carrack was about to say wouldn't help one bit.

"...Don't give me that look, boy." Carrack glowered upon seeing him. Rayse held his ground, meeting the officer's angry stare with one of his own. They stayed that way for a while, as the soldiers all around gave them a wide berth. Rayse didn't really care at this point, he just wanted to vent. 

"I know you'd rather beat up that tree, but thanks to you and your little friends, more heralds have converged upon it. We cannot muster a force to march that far out, lest we leave the fortress unprepared for the other godforsaken monstrosities that are coming after us. Come on, hero. You're a bright kid, you should know this much." He spat out this last bit, showing just how highly he thought of it. Rayse's eyes stayed even, openly challenging the former captain. Even though Carrack had command in this operation, his current status as the herald slayer would be considered beyond even his.

So he let Carrack's statement hang in the air, refusing to respond. He knew he was being petulant, but he didn't care at the moment. That so-called tree ate his parents.

"So. Why did you call?" He finally asked, not even bothering to mask his dismay. His irritation climbed by the moment, along with his uncertainty. What am I doing?

Carrack wasn't having it, though. The newly reinstated general of the mage corps stepped up to him, his massive frame too imposing for even Rayse, who towered over most of the regular soldiers. Rayse stood his ground, though. In fact, he bumped chests with the man. Carrack was pushed back, but he immediately retaliated, butting his head against Rayse.

"You used to be so cute, quaking in your too big shoes when you'd come face me. Where has that kid gone?"

"Dead and buried, with the soldiers you abandoned in Kyrios."

"Rayse!" Lacey shouted from the side. She pulled him away just as he cocked his fist back. When did she get here? "That's enough!"

"Captain, this isn't like you." Chimed Brandon, doing the same to Carrack. It seemed that his friends followed him all the way here. He hardly noticed. He felt his irritation mounting even now, directed at his friends… The shock at that emotion gave him a moment of clarity, making him snap out of it for a moment. The voice in his head felt stronger now, more insistent. What the hell am I doing!?

He looked around, sensing the air for the telltale signs of an illusion. It was then that he noticed it: the ash colored wisps that stuck to him, rioting his senses. They looked like tiny black snowflakes, like floating little dots of soot that had just managed to escape a campfire.

Lacey was still by his side, her hand gripping him so tightly, as if afraid of what he might do. Rayse didn't care, though. He had just discovered that they were under attack. He scanned the area wildly, looking for the source.

"Rayse!? What are you–"

Her voice fell away as his focus surged. Mana or no, his senses had been much more attuned to things like this since defeating Deceit. They were at a cliff face, a little camp where their group had settled in for a while before scaling the mountain where their target was reported to be. He finally noticed some of the soldiers were having the same little signs that he recognized. From Innocuous disagreements that were ready to come into blows, to old settled grudges being dragged back into light. Some had even started to unsheath their weapons, as if the ash had been beckoning them into murder. They were blanketed with the stuff, but Rayse noticed that it had been pouring over from somewhere. He scanned the cliff, hoping to catch the source of this chaos before anyone was seriously hurt.

There. What he found was that, high above the steep mountain cliff, there was a hole where the ash was falling from, dropping all over their camp.

"Lacey! Wind!" He commanded, as he stretched out his hand. His shield came zooming out of his tent and into his hands, already expanded into the massive siege form.

"W-what?" She asked, startled as, from the looks of it, Rayse was preparing for a fight.

"You…" It seems that Carrack took it the same way, as wisps of white mana steamed off his body like little fireflies. Brandon struggled to hold on, but he too was incredulous at him, Because why would his friend draw arms against a general?

"Dammit, we don't have time for this!" Rayse panicked. Lacey and Brandon were still looking at him crazy, so he took action without them.

"Scale storm!" He shouted. The little scales he managed to repair swirled around the camp, quickly picking up speed. He pumped more energy into the spell to compensate for their numbers. The ash were dislodged from them all and were rounded up, as were the ones that were falling from above. The commotion stunned the whole camp, including Carrack, who was just looking at him in confusion.

"Shield charge!" He threw the shield off his arm and into the opening on the cliff. It smashed into the opening, serving as a lid to keep it from dropping any more of the mysterious ash. 

The effects were near instant. The soldiers all around began to lay down their arms, scratching their heads at whatever evil thoughts they were experiencing. Rayse himself was still breathing heavily. He sat down on the ground, catching his breath from the successive exertions he had to do. 

Lord Carrack was the same. He had already relaxed his stance, staring up at the cliff face. His face had returned to its stoic manner, muttering to himself as he analyzed the recent madness that took hold over the camp.

"This is a tricky one." He said eventually. "Our scouts reported the herald to still be ways off."

Carrack walked up to Rayse, who was sitting down being attended to by his friends. An understanding passed between them, and they exchanged nods. This man is a bit rough, but without the influence of the ash, even Rayse knows that he is exceedingly competent.

"Good work." Was all he said, before going over to check on the others. The camp was in disarray, and some of the soldiers were nursing minor injuries. Eventually Brandon and Lacey followed the commander, providing healing to those that needed it. Rayse stayed rooted in place as confusion, curiosity and exhaustion were vying for his attention. Tiny wisps of ash stuck to trees, ground, and even the mountain before them, the aftermath of his efforts. Exhausted, he held out his hand towards one such wisp, tentatively drawing it into him similar to the way he took in Lost's shadows back at the capital.

His heart began to race as his mana heart throbbed in response. It didn't hurt. On the contrary, it felt kind of pleasant, like placing a cool damp piece of cloth over aching muscles. He drew in more of the fell substance, taking its energy for his own. He may have limited use for mana, but its effects on his physique was still very much evident. His heartbeat thumped ever louder in his chest, until eventually the comfort he felt turned to suffocate him. Surprised, he immediately stopped absorbing the ash, scattering the rest of them away from the camp.

"Haah, haah, haah."

His breathing turned ragged, and sweat began to pour out of him. He flopped down to the ground to catch his breath.

"This is gonna be a pain." He sighed.