The Storm Tower | Vol.4, The Eldenarian Artifacts ✓

18.

When Sebastian opened his eyes, he knew he was dreaming.

That didn't make what he saw any less real.

He stood in the eye of a raging battle. Smoke, ash, and death hung in the air, the scent thick and putrid, its scalding fingers tightening around the magician's neck with a vise-like grip. He staggered through the crowd, forced to inhale the metallic smell of blood and magic exploding around him.

Bodies were everywhere. Some donned Shade robes, others covered in the silver uniforms of the Eldai. It didn't matter what they wore, though. They all met the same fate. Dead, slain by their own kind.

Sebastian's head was spinning. Everything around him was either blurry, covered by fog, or so grotesque he couldn't bear to look at it. He heard dragons screeching overhead, blasts of fire pouring from the sky. Had he not known any better, he would've thought it was the apocalypse. But with what was causing the destruction, it might as well have been.

He wiped the sweat dripping down his soot-covered face with a trembling hand. Eldai and battlemages from House Brynjir raced past him, heading for the massive beast rampaging through the cobblestone road they stood on. A few bodies flew backward, sailing past him like comets.

He couldn't move even if he wanted to. His eyes were wide, muscles stiff with terror. He'd never seen anything like this before.

This fight, this battle... The prophecy foretold this. He'd been dreading what it would look like for weeks. House Brynjir's artifact had given him a glimpse of the future back in Hodvekt, but never did he think it would turn out like this. This was madness.

As he stood in the eye of the hurricane of death and destruction, a deep, sinister laugh echoed around him. It started in his ears before spreading around him like vibrations emanating from the earth's core. Soon, the booming voice was all around him, taunting and teasing him. Tears welled in his dark eyes.

"This is your fault," the voice told him.

He didn't want to believe it. All those lives lost, all this chaos... It couldn't be his fault. But then he thought back to Hodvekt and Thania. Two of the world's most prominent and powerful casters were snuffed out like flames in a blizzard. He brough the Order of the Black Lotus right to their doorsteps and they, along with countless others, died fighting for him. They died protecting him.

They gave their lives for him.

He couldn't help but feel he didn't deserve it. Their sacrifice, their valor. Never in a million years would he ever be able to repay them.

A million dark thoughts plagued his mind. He bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. It was the only way to keep himself from hyperventilating. He pressed his hands to his ears, sunk to his knees, and closed his eyes.

"No...no, this isn't happening. This is just a nightmare."

"A nightmare, yes. But real all the same."

He tried blocking out the voice, but his efforts were futile. He couldn't even hear the fires burning around him or the screams piercing the thick, hazy air. All he knew was the voice. That evil, wretched voice. There was no body, no mouth, but he knew who it belonged to.

The god of chaos. The herald of death. The ruler of the underworld.

Mauvorin.

"The Order will rip you apart."

Sebastian's entire body quaked.

"Darkness will swallow you. Soon, you will return to me."