Chaosbound: Elarith Chronicles

Lord Aric's eyelids fluttered open, his breath shallow as the faint echo of a voice pulled him back from the haze that had gripped his mind. His vision blurred, the dim light casting uneven shadows across his surroundings. A figure loomed before him, a face emerging from the haze.

For a fleeting moment, his heart stirred with familiarity. Ron? The thought came unbidden, sharp yet oddly comforting. His son's face seemed to manifest before him, waking him as though it were just another morning in the Eastern Territory. His lips parted, his voice hoarse and frail. "Ron... is it morning already?"

Aurel froze, the words cutting through him like shards of glass. Confusion flickered across his expression, quickly replaced by concern. "Lord Aric," he said quietly, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "Wake up, please. It's me."

But to Aric, the face before him still appeared as his son's. The features were hauntingly familiar—the shape of the jaw, the eyes, the subtle expression. It was as though Ron himself stood before him, calling him back from oblivion. Aric's lips trembled as emotion welled up, spilling out in weak whispers. "My son... how I missed you so much..."

The words hung heavy in the air, wrapping Aurel in a moment of poignant silence. His hands trembled slightly, torn between the flood of emotions that swirled within him and the reality of the situation. He thinks I'm Ron... Aurel thought, his chest tightening. Why?

As the seconds ticked by, a flicker of clarity began to surface in Lord Aric's eyes. His gaze sharpened slightly, his mind clawing back fragments of lucidity. Slowly, the face before him shifted—not his son, but something eerily close. The familiarity of the features pulled at him in a different way, sparking recognition deeper than the haze of emotion.

"You!" Aric's voice cracked as he struggled to lift himself. His weak yet resolute eyes locked onto Aurel's face, narrowing with disbelief. "You are not Ron... Who are you?" His tone hardened, suspicion creeping into his words. He scanned the figure before him once more, the features uncomfortably familiar—not just to his son, but to someone else.

"You... you do have some features of Ron," Aric said hesitantly, his voice dipping into uncertainty, "but also of... his friend. Markus? No... it can't be you. Who are you?" His body stiffened slightly, though the chains and his weakened state held him firmly in place.

Aurel remained silent, his expression caught between anguish and determination, unsure whether to reveal his identity outright. The words hung heavy in his throat, threatening to break loose, but he held them back for now. Instead, he shifted closer, his presence steady yet restrained.

"Who is this tall one? It looks human..." Aric's voice was a ragged whisper, meant to be just loud enough for Aurel to catch. His mind, still clouded, feigned a struggle to process his surroundings, the faint, lingering chaos field a convenient excuse. "Captured... Interrogated..." He let the words hang, fragments piecing together slowly, as if for the first time. "A group interrogating me... that one they called Nephra."

A subtle shudder ran through him, a feigned visceral response to the name. He tightened his lips, as if recalling the monstrous power Nephra had wielded. Then, with a flicker of vulnerability, he looked at Aurel. "But who is this man in front of me?" His gaze lingered on Aurel's face, a carefully constructed bewilderment in his eyes. "And why do his features stir memories I thought were long buried...?" The question hung in the air, a silent invitation for Aurel to reveal more.

A Desperate Sanctuary

The air hung heavy with the remnants of the chaos field, faint energy rippling in the aftermath of the battle. Aurel's gaze flicked between the unconscious captives restrained in Rindel's grasp and the weakened form of Lord Aric, resting precariously on the makeshift cot. Aurel's thoughts churned as he wrestled with his next move. He wanted—needed—answers from Lord Aric, but the man's current state left little room for interrogation. A decision had to be made, but trust and caution weighed heavily on his mind.

Aurel's first thought turned to the Dusk Kingdom. "No," he decided almost immediately, his jaw tightening. "I don't trust them. Not after what we've uncovered." The shadow of the slain false king loomed over his judgment, the Luminaries' manipulations staining the land's leadership. He couldn't risk exposing Lord Aric to more danger by sending him there.

The idea of the Royal Vanguard was next. Perhaps they could provide sanctuary, resources, and protection. But a new pang of doubt gripped him. What if it's a mistake? What if Lord Aric's situation implicates the Vanguard in a way that jeopardizes everything? "No—this wasn't a decision to make lightly." He needed clarity before choosing a course of action.

His eyes softened as they settled on Lord Aric, the man who had once stood as a pillar of strength in his life. Now, reduced to this fragile state, he looked far removed from the mighty warrior Aurel once admired. A flicker of emotion rose in Aurel's chest—gratitude, grief, and a lingering hope—before he suppressed it with practiced discipline.

"Rindel," Aurel finally said, his voice quiet yet firm. The anima turned its masked gaze to him, waiting silently for instructions. "Follow me. We need to move them somewhere safe." He gestured briefly toward the captives, still tightly restrained by chaos energy vines. "Ensure they don't stir."

Turning his attention to Lord Aric, Aurel knelt beside him, his movements gentle as he slipped an arm under the man's shoulders. "Lord Aric," he said softly, "please trust me. I'll find a safe place where we can talk." There was urgency in his tone, but also reassurance. Despite the unfamiliar features of his face, he willed the man to sense the loyalty and care buried beneath them.

Aurel lifted Lord Aric carefully, cradling his frail frame as though the weight were nothing. His movements were deliberate, protective. Behind him, Rindel followed, holding the two captives with mechanical precision, their unconscious forms dangling like marionettes.

Without a word, the trio moved. Aurel and Rindel leapt from the ravine, chaos energy dissipating as they pushed deeper into the wilderness. Shadows danced in the fading light as Aurel's mind raced, his focus divided between the slightly unconscious man in his arms and the decisions that awaited him.

He vowed silently—whatever the cost—he would find answers. But first, he needed to ensure they were safe.

The Mountain Cave

The mountain cave loomed quietly, its opening perched high above the ground with jagged stone walls offering natural protection. The air was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of moss and earth. Aurel surveyed the space carefully before turning to Rindel. The anima stood motionless, awaiting orders, its presence imposing against the faint glow of the cave's interior.

"Guard the entrance," Aurel instructed, his voice low but firm. "Do not let anyone in. Stay vigilant." Rindel nodded in silent agreement and moved without hesitation, leaping effortlessly onto the rock wall outside. Its lithe form blended into the shadows of the mountain, attaching itself securely while its chaos-attuned senses scanned the surroundings for any sign of intrusion.

Inside the cave, Aurel worked swiftly and efficiently. He fashioned a makeshift bed for Lord Aric, using large leaves layered on the flattest section of the cave floor. Though crude, the arrangement was surprisingly comfortable, enough to provide the weakened man some much-needed rest. Gently, Aurel lowered Lord Aric onto the bed, his movements precise and careful, ensuring the older man's frail frame was supported.

The two Umbrafang captives lay nearby, wrapped tightly in chaos vines that pulsed faintly with suppressed energy. Aurel's sharp eyes lingered on them for a moment as he considered his next steps. Their restrained forms radiated no immediate threat, but he knew better than to underestimate divinant-level eclipseborne.

I only need one to talk, he thought, his brow furrowing. Perhaps interrogating them separately will reveal inconsistencies. The idea settled firmly in his mind, and he decided to divide the captives before proceeding. Their knowledge—particularly about the Luminaries—could be invaluable, but only if he handled this carefully.

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Satisfied with the current level of control, Aurel turned his attention back to Lord Aric. The man's breathing had evened out somewhat, his body finally allowed the rest it so desperately needed. Aurel placed a small portion of food and water near the bed, along with some clean clothing he'd retrieved from the Umbrafang hideout. Though simple, these small comforts might aid in Aric's recovery.

"Rest," Aurel murmured quietly, more to himself than to the sleeping man. His gaze softened for a brief moment before he straightened, his resolve hardening once more. There was still much to do, and the answers he sought lay within the layers of danger that surrounded them.

Interrogation Begins

Rhenis stirred as a stinging slap jolt-ed him awake. His eyelids fluttered open to reveal the dim light of the cavern, the oppressive weight of chaos vines wrapping around his frame. Confusion gripped him first, then fear, as his gaze landed on the imposing figure of Aurel standing before him, his expression cold and calculating.

"Wakey, wakey," Aurel said with an almost mocking tone, his voice sharp enough to slice through the tension. "Are you comfortable? Did you sleep well?" He tilted his head slightly, feigning politeness that dripped with menace. "Pardon my lack of manners, but we have things to discuss."

Rhenis's breath hitched as he shifted weakly against the vines, the chaos energy draining his strength and leaving him powerless. He tried to summon the resolve to glare at his captor but faltered under Aurel's unyielding gaze.

"First, let me tell you something important," Aurel continued, his tone hardening. "Any resistance is futile. I guess by now you've realized there's something inside you—something that made it oh-so-easy for me to track you down. Do you understand? It's already over."

Aurel leaned closer, his presence suffocating. "It would be so easy for me to chop your head clean off your shoulders," he said coldly, his words deliberate and unwavering. "And I assure you, I wouldn't hesitate to do it if you decide not to cooperate. Now—nod twice if you agree to answer my questions."

Rhenis froze, his mind scrambling for options, for anything that might turn the situation in his favor. But Aurel didn't give him time to dwell. "Oh, and one more thing," he added with a faint smirk. "I destroyed your chaos-infused weapons. And I took care of that extra chaos energy you've been relying on. It seems it made you stronger than other divinants. Guess what? You're not so special anymore. Abandon any hope that you'll stand a chance against me."

Aurel straightened slightly, his eyes narrowing as he watched the flickers of panic ripple through Rhenis. "Now, now," he said, his voice smooth but razor-sharp. "You can start nodding now. Twice, if you understand."

The silence stretched as Aurel waited, his presence looming over the subdued Umbrafang. The faint hum of chaos vines filled the air, echoing Rhenis's spiraling desperation.

The Weight of Silence

The silence of the cave was sharp and unyielding, broken only by the faint crackle of chaos energy from the vines binding Rhenis. He squirmed against the restraints, the oppressive force sapping his strength with every movement. Aurel stood before him, an unwavering presence radiating both menace and authority. His eyes burned with an intensity that seemed to pierce through Rhenis's very soul.

Aurel tilted his head slightly, observing the captive with cold calculation. Though he said nothing at first, the air around him seemed to grow heavier, the pressure magnifying as he activated his chaos-divinant ability to read emotions. Rhenis froze, his panic barely suppressed. Lying won't work, he realized bitterly. This man—this chaos divinant—had already stripped him of his strength, his weapons, and now his ability to deceive.

"Who do you work for?" Aurel began, his voice sharp and deliberate, each word a blade slicing through the tension. "Who gave you those chaos-infused weapons? And let me guess—you seem to have had an altered ability as well, which is, by the way, gone now." His gaze hardened as he leaned closer. "I destroyed it." The statement carried no arrogance—just cold certainty.

"What are you planning to do with the Dusk Kingdom?" Aurel continued, his tone shifting slightly, the faintest edge of menace coloring his words. He stepped back, allowing Rhenis room to contemplate his dire situation. The chaos-divinant's presence loomed large, radiating an authority that left no room for negotiation—at least not yet.

Rhenis swallowed hard, his mind racing. He prided himself as one of the strongest eclipseborne divinants in the southern territory, a master of his abilities and formidable in combat. But this man in front of him—this chaos-wielding force—was something entirely different. Rhenis didn't know if Aurel was stronger than the Abyssals itself, but it hardly mattered now. What he did know for sure was that this man held power greater than his own, and perhaps even greater than his masters.

For a fleeting moment, Rhenis hesitated, debating whether he could muster the strength to resist or escape. But the thought withered quickly; the vines pulsing with chaos energy were as unyielding as their wielder. He realized, grimly, that he had no leverage.

Still, a flicker of resolve stirred within him. Perhaps I can negotiate, Rhenis thought, his pride sparking faintly amid his fear. He raised his head slightly, summoning what courage he could. "I will answer your questions," he began, his voice trembling but steady. "But you must ensure my safety—from the Abyssals." He paused, gauging Aurel's reaction. "Or release me after. I promise we won't retaliate."

Aurel's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Rhenis dared to hope that his plea might sway his captor. But then Aurel leaned in, his voice dropping into a chilling calm that shattered any notion of mercy.

"Ahh," Aurel said, his tone laced with dark amusement. "So you're negotiating." He tilted his head, his eyes locking onto Rhenis like twin blades. "Let's see—I still have one of your friends bound on the other side. Why don't I just kill you now and interrogate him instead? Or better yet, I could kill you both. Doesn't matter. There are more of you out there, and I can wait."

The weight of his words pressed down on Rhenis, his earlier flicker of resolve snuffed out almost instantly. Aurel's smirk sharpened as he leaned closer, his voice dropping into an icy whisper. "Let me make your options easier. If you answer my questions honestly—no lies, no holding back—I'll let you leave unscathed but you will serve me." The offer lingered in the air, tantalizing yet laced with danger.

"Or," Aurel continued, his tone hardening, "I'll just kill you here and now." He straightened, the faint hum of chaos energy rippling around him as his presence became all-encompassing. "Now I'm the one negotiating."

The Other Captive

Aurel's gaze lingered on Rhenis, his expression unreadable as the faint hum of chaos energy pulsed in the air. The thought crossed his mind—perhaps I could invade his consciousness, use the power of chaos to pry the truth from him, even torture him if necessary. But the idea was fleeting, dismissed as quickly as it came. No, he decided, his lips curling into a faint smirk. We're already negotiating. I'll save that for the other one.

Straightening, Aurel stepped back, his presence still looming over the restrained Rhenis. "I'll give you some time to think," he said, his voice calm but laced with an edge of menace. "I'll go visit your friend out there and offer him the same... opportunity." His words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of the power he wielded over the situation.

Without waiting for a response, Aurel turned on his heel, his cloak sweeping behind him as he moved toward the other captive. The faint glow of chaos vines illuminated his path, casting long shadows across the cavern walls. Behind him, Rhenis remained silent, his mind racing as he weighed his options.

Velka stirred as the sharp sting of Aurel's slap jolt-ed him awake. His eyes snapped open, narrowing into a glare as he took in his surroundings—the dim cavern, the chaos vines binding him tightly, and the imposing figure of Aurel standing over him. The air was thick with tension, the faint hum of chaos energy amplifying the oppressive atmosphere.

"Velka?" Aurel's voice cut through the silence, sharp and mocking. "Are you awake yet? That's your name, right?" He tilted his head slightly, his tone dripping with disdain. "I'll tell you now—your friend over there is ready to submit to me and answer questions. But you? I think you're irrelevant."

Aurel leaned closer, his presence suffocating as his words grew colder. "I plan on killing you now," he said, his voice deliberate and cruel. "But why don't you beg for your life first? Make it good." He smirked, his tone shifting into mockery. "Or maybe I'll give you some weapons—let you try to fight back. What do you think? Isn't that better? Die fighting?"

Velka's glare didn't falter, though his mind raced to process the situation. He understood the gravity of his predicament—the chaos vines sapping his strength, the overwhelming power of the man before him. But his resolve didn't waver. Instead, he straightened slightly, his voice steady despite the restraints.

"My loyalty is to the Abyssals," Velka said firmly, his tone unwavering. "I did what I did to protect the southern territory. The Abyssals may be monsters, but they've been around for a long time. They've maintained the peace in this land." His eyes burned with conviction as he continued, "You, on the other hand, are nothing compared to them. Even if you kill me now, I'll be glad I served them. I won't regret a thing."

Aurel froze, his smirk fading as Velka's words sank in. He activated his chaos-divinant ability, reading the man's emotions with precision. What he found surprised him—there was no malice, no deceit. Velka's loyalty was pure, untainted by selfishness or cruelty. He truly believed in the Abyssals' role as protectors of the southern territory, fighting for what he thought was right.

For the first time, Aurel hesitated. The conviction in Velka's words, coupled with the absence of malice, stirred something unexpected within him. This man isn't just a sadistic fighter, Aurel thought, his gaze narrowing. He's loyal. He's fighting for a cause he believes in.

The realization unsettled Aurel, forcing him to confront the weight of his own actions. Killing Velka now—someone who fought for what he believed was right—felt disturbingly close to crossing a line Aurel wasn't sure he wanted to cross.