It was perfect, almost impossible to believe. Exallius watched from afar as the Academy succumbed to the unnatural darkness, shadows of impossible black spiraling around grand towers, quickly spreading and seeping its way into every little nook and cranny until only a single orb of pure darkness remained.

  Then, suddenly, the earth shook with mighty vigor, not quite splitting, but certainly threatening to. From somewhere off in the distance, Exallius heard the sound of a gasalian crash, like a forest of trees all felled in synchronicity.

  Exallius ducked low to the ground, waiting and listening for a signal that he’d been discovered, but all he could hear was the keen whistle of the wind sweeping through the valleys. Probably best he finished his business there quickly.

  Exallius shifted his weight to his right foot, taking another step forward towards the peak of the cliff upon which he stood, stowing the small pyramidal transporter safely within his deep pocket, pulling out the slip of paper he’d been given for the mission in the same motion. Most everything was complete already, just a little left and he’d be free to report the good news back to the Bloody.

  -IMPORTANT-

  The following transcript contains confidential information regarding operation No Name. Only his excellence the Bloody, Dorovan, and Exallius are permitted to the contents herein

  Dorovan, you are to take the transporter crafted by Ten and Four and use it to summon a calamity level creature from west of the Nuvarian, a being I’ve dubbed Nonus. It alone holds the ability to supersede Era’s vision, and itself is remarkably dangerous. Under no circumstance should you approach the entity or touch any of its shadows. Aid the endeavor from afar however most you see fit, but do not directly engage. Reports suggest a “groundskeeper” roams the premises. Little is known of him, but he is suspected to be of prowess similar to that of Walibeld, Era, and Rema. If you are detected at any time, retreat and ensure the transporter is protected. Your survival and the protection of the transporter is of prime importance.

  Good luck and godspeed

  Exallius neatly folded the paper and tucked it back into his waist. He could leave, theoretically. The beast was supposed to be capable of handling the engagement on its own, but he knew better than to allow his arrogance the throne. He lifted his right hand into the air, a small, dense mote of light blue energy encircling a single water droplet sitting gently upon his palm.

  -Zenith Cast: Heart of Tr…

  “I wouldn’t recommend that.”

  Exallius’s heart leapt in his chest. Instantly, he dropped his hand, severing the thread of magic, and turning on the source of the voice, exalted blue blade already drawn.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Sitting hunched over on an upwards pitched rock, head tilted slightly to the left, eyelids drooping low, and arms–bandaged tightly from fingertip to shoulder–laid loosely upon his knees, was a messy black haired man. He wore a loose black cloak drenched in foul blood of some variety. It draped about his shoulders in such a way as to cover most of his body, a single silver clasp shaped like a 3 pointed crescent moon tilted on its side to face downwards, the middle spike notably longer than the other two.

  Slowly, he picked up his arms, languidly picking up a loose end of bandage hanging off of one of his fingertips and winding it back around until it was fully contiguous, absently gazing, first, down at his handiwork, and then up at Exallius. Not once did he even attempt to make a move towards a weapon of any kind, of which he seemed to have none. In fact, he almost looked bored, not even the slightest hint of aggression anywhere in his body. But as Exallius thought of how best to strike, he hesitated, not because of his orders, but of a disquieting gut feeling building in his chest.

  By all accounts, it made no sense. Exallius couldn’t sense a drop of presence within the man’s body, nor any identifiable source of magic or aspect. But something about the man’s lax form just irked him in a way he couldn’t quite place, that pervasive aura of death the man exuded calling forth goosebumps to the surface of Exallius’s skin. He shifted slightly back, involuntarily placing more distance between himself and the man, blade levied between the two, droplets of sweat sinking into cracks between the stone crags as his heart picked up two tempos. What was this feeling? What was this…fear? Could the man truly hope to kill him? Could Exallius truly hope to live?

  “I’ve orders to follow. Leave and I’ll take no arms against you,” Exallius spoke, barely managing to keep his voice steady.

  The man tilted his head the other way, eyes looking up into the sky, a single finger placed gently under his chin, “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend fighting me, either. I’ve also orders…but I’ll have to disobey them if you force my hand. I was hoping to avoid bloodshed today,” he looked down, “...more bloodshed. The monsters in this area are so…volatile.

  “Orders from who?”

  “East…he told me to help the kids, but…” the man looked over at the Academy, “...I wonder if it’d kill me. My minds never been the strongest.”

  East. He was right, this man was not to be engaged. That name could only refer to one man, especially in this part of the world, the Demon of the East. And although Exallius wasn’t familiar with East’s power structure, he knew better than to tussle with one of his elites. He rebalanced on his feet, side eyeing the enshrouded complex to the side while gritting his teeth. He needed to get the man to leave, somehow.

  “Under order of the Bloody, I demand you leave here at once. That beast consuming the Academy is under my command, and I won’t hesitate-”

  “No it’s not.”

  Exallius hesitated, mouth still ajar. The man was right, it wasn’t. He did summon it, but its orders came from higher up in the chain. He had no way of bringing it here, let alone demanding it aid him. But how could he know that?

  “A creature like that would never listen to you…East tells me all the time…the only way to subjugate a monster is through strength alone. But I guess the same works for man, doesn’t it?” The man said.

  “Who are you?”

  “Such an irritating question…why is it people always demand to know who I am? My name holds no meaning, and I wouldn’t think it beyond myself, anyway…but if you insist…what did East say? Names are…no that’s right…names hold more power than man ever could…something like that,” the man glanced up at Exallius, eyes widening slightly. “I have no name, I was not given one upon birth, but another was granted to me by East. ‘Death, he was called; a curse, he was told; but so too a blessing, was one certain. Thus, a false name he was given, more title than appellation, but, alone, boon to encapsulate the whole of his being, the whole of his grief, the whole of his suffering–Necrose,’ I think I read that in a book, somewhere.

  Necrose? But that would mean…and for the first time in a long, long time, Exallius was filled with a feeling he’d hoped never to know again–fear.