Chapter 33: The Struggle Within
Solskin
The inn became eerily silent, as if everyone could feet the oppressive mood exuding the counter. The clinking of beer mugs and plates became subdued, and nearly inaudible as I listened into Solskin's conversation with the barkeep.
"Erik was a good man. I'm sorry; I can't tell you any stories about him, he got transferred before I could fight with him at my side. I remember that he always said, 'Life is too short. Live it without fear or regret,'" the barkeeper said softly, conscious of the mood and fatherly gentleness blanketing his tone.
"Já… Já. He said that a lot." I remained quiet, my mind elsewhere.
Persephone was also staring at me with a sisterly concern. She reached out to pat my shoulder, but stopped just short. A brief look of frustration flashed across her face as she let her arm fall limp at her side. She leaned in, whispering in my ear, "He must be proud of you."
She got up, turning in for the night. I never realized how late it was, remaining there with the barkeeper until the sun rose the next day.
Mordred
I was sitting in my jail cell again. Through the mirror in the corner, I could see my new demonic body.
"This is not artistic at all," I pouted sarcastically, trying to keep up a good mood. "Red scales really don't go with fleshy pink."
"It's all shades of red, why does it matter?" The voice said. I snickered. The voice came from the other side of the cell. I didn't know who he was, but he was the only person who would hold a conversation with me. "Here, I managed to grab what you wanted."
From under the door slid a few pencils and a notebook.
"Thank you,"
"No problem, this place really is hell. Any comfort is needed."
"You don't seem like a guard. Who are you?"
The voice hardened. It was almost like he was in pain, spitting out his words with regret and self-loathing. "A sinner. A murder. What else do you need to know? I kill people."
"And?" I questioned plainly.
"What?"
"Well, I can't picture you as a cold-blooded murderer. You are too nice." I snorted. "If you hate killing so much, then why do you do it?"
"Because I have to! I can't just- stop," he spat before taking in a long shuddering breath, "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. I have my reasons."
"That is alright," I sighed. "Just be happy knowing that you are the only friend I have here."
The voice softened. "Thanks. That means a lot."
A long silence followed. I began sketching in the notebook, trying to recreate my battle with the bandits from memory on the paper.
The voice came drifting over again. "I was ordered to kill your friends."
My hand slipped, decapitating my unfinished head. I looked up at the wall where the voice stood behind. "What?" Silence. An uncomfortably long silence.
"Why did you tell me that?"
"Because I want you to know who to hate." There was deep sense of melancholy in the voice.
Persephone
The bird was dead, feathers stewn all about the road. Ophelia had found it and dragged me over to it.
"Bring it back to life," her voice was childishly demanding, like an kid who had already determined that you would do something.
"I can't," I responded sadly. "And death should be final. That's what Father always says."
"That is no good. What do the death clerics do if they don't bring things to life?"
"Bring death to those whose time has come."
"I don't want you to kill people! You can't be a cleric!" Ophelia said petulantly. She stomped her feet on the ground. I had already decided to follow my father and become a cleric of death. At first, Ophelia was proud of me. But now?
"You can't be a murderer!"
I was confused. "But, but, but… Death clerics aren't killers."
Ophelia marched off without hearing my voice. She stopped and turned around. On her face was a mischievous smile. "You can be a death cleric who stops time!"
I nodded wordlessly, chasing after her. Laughing, we ran throughout the town, pretending to stop other people's deaths. We felt like heroes saving the town. The time flew by despite our efforts and the sun set, forcing us to chat away the night in my room.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Infurno
Infurno We did a complete overhaul with all the chapters. If you want to, you can reread it. All the major plot points are the same. Also, I just realized that I messed up and forgot a chapter. the forgotten chapter is the ritual and the previous ritual was moved to the branding
Chapter 34: The General
Solskin
Saying we were summoned was putting it lightly. At the break of dawn, a small army marched into the inn, dressed in full armor. Through closed steel helmets, we were informed that we were summoned. Without a second to spare, we were escorted into an eerily secure wagon, complete with a barred window and a door that only opened from the outside. I felt like a prisoner on his execution day.
The trip wasn't much better. Outnumbered by the guards in the wagon two to one, the atmosphere quickly became suffocating. Not once did they tried to talk to us or let go of their hilts. I stared out of the window to the early morning city. The early morning sunlight blanketed everything in a white light. It felt surreal.
The wagon slowed to a stop. There was a brief conversation outside before I heard the rattle of chains. We had passed into the inner circle of the city: the palace. From the window, the tall white walls loomed over us, casting a formidable shadow over the gardens inside.
I stuck my head as close to the window as possible with childish glee. "We are in the palace. Odin's beard." I couldn't quite believe my eyes.
"I hope this will be quick," Xavier mumbled to himself.
Persephone looked up from her hands and turned towards me. "I wonder what this is about? I don't think we are that important for such treatment." Her voice was flat, but it was clear that she was unhappy with the situation. Her frosty aura was practically freezing the entire cabin.
The wagon made a sharp turn, jarring its passengers back into silence. We turned away from the gardens. The green scenery was quickly replaced by stone buildings, soldiers hustling about their morning tasks. There was a constant thudding that cut through the busy camp. It was the sound of metal biting into leather. It wasn't hard to tell we had arrived at the barracks.
We finally stepped out into a barren courtyard. Surrounding the perimeter were more guards. Standing at attention, they were like statues. Lieutenant Savah was there, dressed in a ceremonial uniform. Dipping his head in greeting, he beckoned us to follow. We marched down hallways and corridors until he arrived in front an unassuming door and stopped. On it was embossed General Nightrider.
Xavier hesitated at the door. For a brief moment, I swore to Odin that there was a flash of nervousness and fear across his eyes. He hesitated to open the door. Before I could do anything, Lieutenant Savah barged in front of us and opened the door. The room inside was quite spacious, books lining the walls and a large table in the center. There were two people seated facing us.
I was jolted back into the present. Looking inside, I noticed the man sitting directly in front of us. He looked exactly like Xavier, except for the fact that he was missing the scars running down the side of his face. The resemblance was uncanny. Countless medals adorned his breast and on his chair leaned a massive axe. When we entered, he stood up with his arms outstretched. "Greetings." The voice was overly friendly, his gaze focused on Xavier.
The man next to him looked like he wanted to sink into the depths of his chair and never be seen again. He looked human, if one overlooked the massive red wings and scales that covered every inch of his body. He tapped his fingers against a large tome in front of him.
The standing man continued. "The reports of your death were as exaggerated as I thought."
"Hello, Carolinus." Xavier's words were crisp and icy cold.
"Now, is that the way to treat your brother?"
There was a brief pause. Xavier looked like he wanted to get away from it all, his eyes kept shifting around the room, searching for any possible escape routes. Much to his disappointment, he was quickly pushed into the room by the guards and barred from leaving.
"I doubted you were dead since the beginning. You have always been a stubborn bastard. And besides, Epoch is a terrible, terrible, liar." Carolinus shot a teasing glance at Epoch.
The dragonborn was visibly uncomfortable, his face almost as red as his scales. He whispered guiltily, "Sorry, Xavier. He wouldn't stop hounding me about it."
There was a friendly atmosphere being built. Until Xavier killed it immediately with ice cold words. "What do you want with me?"
The room grew tense. "You have changed." Epoch and Carolinus both seemed shocked by this. Carolinus quickly recovered, bringing back a lighthearted atmosphere. "Well, straight to the point. I want you to come back to the army. Epoch has already agreed to serve again."
"I was blackmailed into it. Blackmailed, I say," Epoch muttered dejectedly.
Carolinus continued. "I managed to get permission to create a new force. There have been some foreboding rumors and I fear demons. You two are the only two in the country that can deal with them."
"Can I join?" I leaned in, staring intently at Carolinus. This was my chance to achieve my dreams.
He was taken aback by this. "This one is eager," he stated amusedly. "Are you willing to command men once more?" He once again returned his pointed gaze at Xavier.
"Never. Again." The words were like dagger, stabbing into the ears of everyone present. He slammed his hands against the table, and the wood cracked under his palms. He glared at them with hateful yellow eyes. I was shocked, fear rooting me to the ground.
Carolinus rose to the challenge, slamming against the table with equal force. "WHY THE HELL NOT?! Stop wallowing in grief. It's pathetic! You were the best commander in the kingdom. IT IS YOUR DUTY, DAMNIT! What would Bloody First want you to do? They trusted you."
My head spun. Was Xavier a survivor from the Bloody First? Was he their commander? I didn't believe what I was hearing.
"AND I LEAD THEM TO THEIR DEATHS! ALL OF THEM."
"WHERE IS THE CONFIDENT XAVIER I ONCE KNEW?"
"DEAD! With the rest of them," Xavier spat out. An emotion I had never heard from him before colored his voice, making it tremble with what seemed like rage mixed with sorrow.
The room went silent, tension crackling in the air. I wanted to retreat out of the room, hiding away from the two colliding iron walls of will. Both were gripped their weapons tightly. The guards outside, shocked from the sudden explosion of voices, were unsure on what to do. They stood at the threshold of the doorway, hands on their weapons, staring blankly at the current situation.
At this point, Epoch stood up, his tome glowing. "Calm down," he demanded, his voice firm and resolute.
The tension in the room was sucked out as I felt a wave of tranquility wash over me. Hands fell back to their sides limply, and everyone sat down.
"What exactly happened all those years ago?"
Xavier looked downcast, memories clouding his vision. He was no longer with us, but in some distant memory. "I don't what to talk about."
Carolinus was slightly irritated. "Why?"
"Because I just don't want to talk about it."
"That is not a reason," Carolinus snorted. He crossed his arms over chest and began tapping his finger against his arm. He stopped and abruptly stood up again. Walking to the wall of books, he pulled out a old tome. It was small, red book with golden writing across the top. Carefully setting it down, he began flipping through the pages. He stopped at one page. He slid the book across the table, coming to stop in front of us. The book was old, the page yellowed and ink faded. Torn slightly at the edges, it described a thing. The king of the shadows. The king of nightmares. The torturer of the night. Kalakrath.
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