Chaosbound: Elarith Chronicles

Shadows on the Horizon

The morning sun bathed the rolling hills in golden light, its warmth promising a peaceful day ahead. As the caravan moved steadily along the dirt road, the rhythmic creak of wooden wheels blending with the soft chatter of soldiers and attendants. At the procession's heart rode Prince Altheris, son of King Vareth, his royal carriage adorned with the crest of the Dusk Kingdom—a proud emblem of shadow and resilience.

The prince leaned back in his seat, gazing out at the serene landscape. His escorts, a dozen seasoned soldiers clad in polished armor, flanked the caravan, their vigilance unwavering. Merchants and attendants followed closely behind, their wagons laden with goods and gifts from neighboring territories. Indeed, it was a scene of calm, a momentary reprieve from the kingdom's growing troubles.

However, this peace was short-lived.

Without warning, as the caravan rounded a bend, two figures emerged from the shadows of the forest ahead. They stood in the middle of the road, unmoving, their forms unsettlingly human yet undeniably monstrous. The taller one, a hulking figure with a single horn protruding from his forehead, smiled faintly, as if amused by the sight before him. Beside him, a smaller, wiry figure twitched with barely contained energy, his cracked mask-like face glowing faintly.

The caravan halted abruptly. Soldiers shifted into defensive positions, their hands gripping weapons tightly. One grizzled veteran stepped forward, his voice firm but wary. "Who are you? You're blocking the path of the royal caravan. Do you know who we are escorting? Show some respect and move aside!"

The taller figure, Toro, tilted his head, his smile widening as if the soldier's words were a personal affront. The smaller figure let out a guttural laugh, his voice sharp and unhinged. "Respect? Respect?" Toro chuckled, "They don't understand, do they, Rask?" The now-named Rask turned to Toro, his movements erratic, like a rabid animal barely restrained. "These people... I want to eat all their malice. I'm sure they'll taste delicious."

Before anyone could react, Rask leapt into the air, his body propelled impossibly high. The soldiers looked up, their faces pale with fear as his shadow loomed over them. "Ready for battle!" the veteran shouted, his voice trembling as the soldiers raised their weapons.

But it was already too late.

Rask descended like a predator, his tentacle-like weapons erupting from his back and impaling the nearest soldiers with brutal precision. Screams filled the air as, simultaneously, Toro charged forward, his massive frame ramming into the defensive line, sending soldiers flying like ragdolls. Chaos energy balls flew from his hands, exploding with devastating force and tearing through the caravan's formation.

The scene was carnage. Wagons splintered, goods scattered, and the once-proud soldiers lay broken and lifeless. Amid the destruction, Rask approached the royal carriage, his glowing tentacles retracting as he reached for the trembling prince.

Prince Altheris fell to his knees, his voice shaking as he begged for mercy. "I am the prince of the Dusk Kingdom! Please, let me go! I'll give you whatever you want—gold, land, anything!"

Rask crouched down, his cracked mask-like face inches from the prince's. "I don't want your gold," he hissed, his voice dripping with malice. "I only want your fear. Show me more of it. Delicious fear."

The prince's eyes widened in terror as Rask's face seemed to shimmer, the cracks glowing brighter. Then, without warning, an invisible force began to pull at the prince's very essence, his life draining away as Rask absorbed his energy. The prince's eyes turned black, his body frozen and lifeless, like a petrified statue.

Rask stood, holding the lifeless prince in his grasp. "Yummy," he muttered, tossing the body aside like a discarded toy. Toro joined him, his smile unbroken as he surveyed the devastation. Together, the two Malus disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind a scene of ruin and despair.

The Weight of Shadows

The throne room was silent, its air heavy with anticipation. The soldier burst through the grand doors, his breath ragged, sweat dripping from his brow. His armor clinked as he hurried forward, kneeling before King Vareth. The king, seated on his imposing ebony throne, looked down at the trembling soldier, his heart already bracing for the worst.

"My lord... your majesty..." The soldier's voice quivered, his eyes refusing to meet the king's. "I bring grave news. I... I fear the Prince—Prince Altheris—was brutally killed."

The words struck King Vareth like a blade to the heart. His breath caught, his eyes widened, and he staggered forward, clutching his chest. Slowly, his knees buckled, and he sank to the marble floor, his regal form crumbling under the weight of the news. Tears filled his eyes as sorrow etched deep lines across his face.

"No... not my son..." Vareth's voice cracked, broken and raw. "Not Altheris..."

Dame Kaelisia, her armor gleaming faintly in the dim light, stepped forward and placed a steady hand on the king's shoulder. Her face was stoic, yet her tone carried a somber edge. "My lord, it is them again—the monsters that haunt our lands. This time, they took the prince..."

Her words trailed off, the gravity of the situation sinking deeper into the room. The soldier remained kneeling, his hands trembling, while King Vareth bowed his head, grieving not only for his son but for the kingdom teetering on the edge of collapse.

Aurel's Journey

Meanwhile, under the radiant morning sun, far from the kingdom's grief, Aurel and his small team journeyed across sprawling hills and winding paths. Kirin, carrying a large map with both hands and squinting exaggeratedly at its markings, stumbled slightly as he glanced over the terrain. "Master, I think it's this way!" he declared, holding the map aloft like he'd solved a riddle, only to pause. "Actually... maybe it's upside down."

Aurel, walking steadily ahead with his usual composed demeanor, merely glanced at Kirin with faint amusement. "The Vanguard said the journey takes ten days," Kirin continued, stuffing the map haphazardly into his pocket. Then, with mock exasperation, he added, "But Master, why are we traveling by foot? You know we could have just borrowed a wagon or something with wheels. Wheels are amazing inventions, by the way."

Rindel, silent and stoic as always, trudged alongside them. Despite the lifeless look in their eyes, they instinctively turned toward Kirin whenever he spoke, nodding with rhythmic precision as if understanding every word. Their towering presence carried an air of quiet strength, and the massive bag strapped to Kirin's back had been reinforced with specially crafted gadgets by Sylas, tools that seemed far too advanced for the journey. Yet Kirin bore it all without complaint—well, almost.

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"This is part of your training," Aurel finally replied, his tone calm yet firm, gesturing to the weighted armbands and footbands strapped to Kirin. "Each step sharpens your resilience. Tomorrow, I will increase the bands' weight."

Kirin's jaw dropped, his comedic timing impeccable. "More weight?! Master, I feel like I'm turning into a walking packhorse here." He tugged at the bands, exaggerating his plight, but his strength belied his complaints. Carrying a bag that would crush an ordinary man, Kirin moved effortlessly, his auto-healing body adapting to the strain. Still, he grimaced dramatically, only for his stomach to betray him with a loud growl.

"I'm hungryyy!" he whined, clutching his belly like he was on the brink of collapse. Rindel nodded at him again, as if approving of the sentiment, while Aurel kept walking, unfazed by the antics. "Less talking. Focus," Aurel said, his tone unyielding.

Kirin sighed loudly but followed obediently, his complaints giving way to quiet resolve as he fell in step with his master.

The Ambush: A Misunderstanding Unfolds

The forest was quiet—a bit too quiet. Aurel sensed it before it happened: the shift in the air, the faint pulse of hostility. His instincts sharpened, yet before he could speak, a shadow lashed out from the treetops, aimed directly at him.

Dame Naevin, one of the Dusk Kingdom's most formidable Divinants, materialized with an aura of cold fury. The shadow blade glinted with dark energy, a swift arc meant to take Aurel by surprise. However, Aurel's blade met it mid-air, the clash reverberating through the stillness.

"So," Naevin hissed, his tone as sharp as his attack, "this is how you greet the Dusk Kingdom? Filthy Umbrafang, you'll pay for the prince's life."

Aurel's brow furrowed, his confusion evident even as he parried another strike. "What are you talking about? We didn't kill anyone!"

Kirin, alert now, darted to his master's side, fists ready. "Master, I think they're on to us. What do we do? Should we fight back?"

Aurel's gaze remained locked on Naevin. "Defend yourself," he said coolly. Then, with a glance at Rindel, Aurel added, "Don't kill. Let's get to the bottom of this."

Naevin pressed harder, his movements relentless, driven by raw emotion. His words dripped with venom. "Don't play innocent! That chaos being"—he gestured furiously toward Rindel—"proves you're one of them!"

Aurel sighed, deflecting another blow. His voice dropped into a low growl, laced with irritation. "If you won't listen, then we'll just have to make you."

The tension broke as Naevin shouted, "For the prince!" and the Dusk Kingdom soldiers charged from the shadows. Aurel exchanged a quick glance with Kirin and Rindel. "Feel free to attack," he ordered, his tone grim. "But don't kill. I don't think they're listening, so let's use force."

Kirin cracked his knuckles, his usual calm demeanor giving way to the barest trace of a grin. "Understood, Master." Rindel remained still but shifted into his battle stance, his sharp eyes scanning for threats.

Aurel turned back to Naevin, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "Well, if this is how you treat travelers, then we'll respond in kind."

With that declaration, Aurel activated his chaos field, covering the battlefield in an oppressive wave of energy.

The Chaos Field: Overpowering Resistance

As Aurel unleashed his chaos field, a ripple of dark energy spread across the battlefield, warping the air with an ominous hum. The soldiers, seasoned warriors of the Dusk Kingdom, faltered as the oppressive weight of the field settled over them. Their breaths grew labored, and their movements sluggish—yet not all succumbed so easily.

Naevin, one of the kingdom's strongest Divinants, gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his brow as he resisted the field's effects. His shadow magic lashed out in desperation, flickering and faltering under the chaos' suffocating grip. Aurel watched him with a calculated smirk, his confidence growing as he tightened his control.

Among the soldiers, a handful fought to remain upright, their bodies trembling under the strain. One raised a sword with trembling hands, only for Kirin to dart forward in a blur, delivering a precise strike to disarm him without taking his life. "Master," Kirin called out, his voice steady but tinged with concern. "Some of them are resisting. Do we need to strengthen the field?"

Aurel shook his head, his eyes glinting with restrained power. "No need. Let them feel their helplessness."

Meanwhile, Rindel stood silently at Aurel's side, his gaze locked on the scene before him. He shifted his weight slightly, his battle stance ready, but his blade remained sheathed. There was a dangerous stillness to him—a storm waiting to break. Yet he obeyed Aurel's command, his quiet form a stark contrast to Kirin's flurry of calculated blows.

Naevin, still defiant, lunged at Aurel with a desperate cry, his shadowy blade slicing through the air. Aurel caught the attack with ease, parrying it with a sharp clang that echoed through the chaos-laden battlefield. "You fight well," Aurel remarked, his voice dripping with mock approval. "But you're wasting your strength."

He sidestepped Naevin's next attack and delivered a brutal kick to his chest, sending the Divinant sprawling. Aurel's grin widened as he reached out with a gesture, summoning constructs of dark, dagger-like energy. They hovered menacingly before launching toward Naevin in a flurry, each precisely aimed to incapacitate without killing. The Divinant cried out as the constructs struck, forcing him to his knees.

As the chaos field began to dissipate, the remaining soldiers collapsed to the ground, their strength utterly spent. Kirin lowered his fists, exhaling deeply, and glanced at Aurel. "Master, I think we might've overdone it. Did you really have to go that hard on him?"

Aurel strode toward Naevin, his steps slow and deliberate, his expression one of grim satisfaction. "Now," he said, his voice low and commanding, "are you willing to listen? Or shall we continue this dance?"

The Revelation: Royal Vanguard

Naevin groaned as Aurel grabbed him by the collar, hefting him off the ground with ease and tossing him into a nearby chair as if he were a mere ragdoll. The chair creaked under the impact, and Naevin struggled to sit upright, his body trembling with exhaustion. Aurel loomed over him, his devilish grin replaced by a stern, commanding presence. He reached into his cloak and retrieved a small metal badge, its intricate insignia gleaming faintly in the fading light.

"Hi there," Aurel began, his tone dripping with mock politeness, though his piercing gaze left no room for argument. "My name is Aurel, and these are my companions. We're from the Royal Vanguard, investigating reports of chaos beings and their activities. We've heard rumors and were on our way to the Dusk Kingdom when you decided to greet us like this."

He held the badge closer to Naevin's face, almost forcing him to take it in. The insignia of the Royal Vanguard, a symbol of authority and valor, shimmered with unmistakable clarity. Over the past few months, the Royal Vanguard had garnered a reputation across the kingdoms for their victories against the Malifuge, rogue chaos entities, and other dark forces plaguing the land.

Naevin's eyes widened as recognition dawned, his earlier hostility replaced with a mix of realization and shame. Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself to his feet, coughing up blood but straightening his posture in an attempt to maintain his dignity. "My apologies," he rasped, his voice hoarse but steady. "It was my mistake to strike first. I thought... I thought you were one of them."

Aurel's brow furrowed slightly, his tone now sharper but carrying a hint of curiosity. "One of them? Who are you talking about?"

Naevin hesitated, casting a wary glance at Aurel and his companions. Rindel's silent, watchful stance, Kirin's bruised fists, and Aurel's commanding demeanor left him no room to deflect. "Please..." Naevin managed, his strength barely holding. "Come with me... to the Dusk Kingdom. I will escort you to our king."

Aurel crossed his arms, still wary of Naevin's intentions. After a brief pause, he nodded. "Fine. But let's get one thing straight—you were the one who attacked us. This is your last chance to prove you're willing to talk instead of fight."

Kirin stepped forward, offering Naevin an arm to steady himself, though his voice remained light with a touch of sarcasm. "You're lucky, really. Master tends to go harder on people who interrupt his travels."

Naevin managed a weak chuckle, though the pain in his ribs made him wince. "Consider me... properly warned."

Aurel glanced at Rindel, who gave a silent nod, then turned his attention back to the path ahead. "Let's move."