We had explored the Cathedral for some time before Or'do began to fade. It was as if the colour suffusing him bled into the stones, pooling in a basin of shadow around his feet. The strength left him then, and he crumpled to his knees; yet I saw even now, not a hint of fear on his angular face, not a wisp of terror in those deep crimson eyes. Having vanquished the lord of this domain, our bells had fallen silent, and it was with this thought, the fear of never again seeing my comrade, that I fell to my knees beside him, hands clutching at his cloak and passing through it with little more than a hushed whisper.

"Or'do!" I kept my voice muted, fearing the attention of whatever foes we had not yet slain.

"Do not fear for me. This realm is merely casting me back to my own world, my own plane among its infinity." He met my gaze, his eyes hard as steel yet warm and kind as the bonfires that sustained us. "I will find the next lamp, and with this bell call for you."

"What if I cannot find it?"

"I will wait for an eternity if I must." Or'do smiled as the void took him. "At you side is where I belong. In this foul world, or any other, I've nowhere else I would rather be."

"And you told me to not be dramatic" I muttered, turning away. "I know you were simply returning to your world; finding you again however, shall not be easy." I remembered then, the chalice that lay heavy and brimming with malice at my side. The key to a dungeon it was, an endless realm of battle wherein even I, the frailest of steel, could be tempered.

I felt then, a surge of darkness within my breast; a spark that was to the Cinder as a cloudless midday is to a starless midnight. Curious, I extended a mental finger to the murk within me, and instantly recoiled as a chill fierce as glacial tears passed through me. The Darkness was rooted as deeply as the Cinder; what this meant, I could not say, only that I felt my sanity begin to erode. Desperate, I strained and writhed, struggling against its indomitable grasp; trying without success to free myself, to snatch away the hand of my consciousness from the searing flame of its deep chill.

I crumpled to my knees, writhing and gasping, clawing at my chest as though I could physically tear the blasphemous heart from its perch. Steam rose from my fingertips, caressing my cheeks and burning my wide eyes; and with a sudden cry of agony, I wrenched my hands away, skin blistered and bone jutting through deep gashes.

Darkness stole my sight, and my muscles turned to warm, molten honey that flowed uselessly around my bones as I collapsed and lay motionless.

I woke to a bleak scene indeed: flagstones laden in moss that stretched off to a dark horizon where the darkened corridor shambled beyond my sight. Trembling, my fingers rasped against the filthy stone as I heaved myself upright, rising with the ominous slowness of a molten primordial dragging itself from the earthen depths.

Gasping, I sagged against the wall, slowly taking in the walls, the texture of stone beneath my fingers rough as a fighter's many times sundered bones. This was the Pthumerian labyrinth. Somehow, the madness had seized me, and cast my unwilling frame here. As surely as any who bows before the hangman's noose, I was sent here to perish. The Darkness loathed me, and the Flame knew of my betrayal. My only ally in all this had been severed, and I knew better than to hope for his miraculous return.

Clawing and scraping at my throat, a roar of fury burst from my lips, accompanied by a volcanic surge of heat. No, the Flame had not forsaken me. I was merely too far to feel its warmth; a shivering servant with hands outstretched toward his master's fire, thrust beyond its ring of light, bent and shuddering in the darkness. I screamed again, flame surging through my veins, glowing through my cloak. Fire rolled out from my soles, encircling my feet as with furious purpose I strode, crossing the corridor and with a fist of flame wreathed steel, shattered the bronze door, turning it into a shower of pale dust that bathed the surprised creatures beyond. Pale and emaciated, they nonetheless surged toward me with eyes that blazed and claws that shone. I was unimpressed.

Casually, a dealt a backhand that sundered their heads from their shoulders, and in the same instant ground their spines to sand. Ahead, stood a gate of wrought iron bracketed by two kneeling statues who bore lanterns alight with lavender flame. A puzzle of some sort, I was certain. My fist turned the gate into a cascade of rent metal like the jagged blood of an elemental of stone. Ahead, loomed the lord of this realm; a giant whose back bristled with candles that clung to the hilts of embedded daggers. His every thunderous step sent fresh tongues of blood eagerly licking along his protruding ribs, and each breath rasped with the hollow peal of agony. He raised arms that ended in scythes - which turned back along his forearms, their tips near his elbow and half a arms' span from his clawed hands - and bellowed in challenge. I stoked the Cinder, and matched his fury.

Without warning, it sprang: scythes fading into silvered crescents like the sliver moon bathed in solemn starlight. Too late I retreated, leaping back yet feeling the glacial fire of its blade curl across my abdomen. Anger's flame burned through me like molten steel coursing through my veins in time with the furious thunder of my heartbeat. Lunging, I brought him to his knees with a round from my pistol, then plunged my fist into the soft flesh of his neck, wrenching forth a pulsing chunk of his foul body.

He roared, slashing wildly and driving me back. The air howled and wailed like the keening of a thousand grief stricken souls as he stumbled forward, still on hands and knees, slashing madly. Floundering to his feet, he sank into a low stance, balancing precariously and swaying as his life streamed from the daggers adorning his back, and the ragged wound glistening upon the corded steel of his neck.

Without sparing thought nor breath for hesitation, I lunged, yet recognized at once that something was wrong, his eyes blazing with triumphant fire, his leaden arms rising as if with the strength of a thousand men. Instantly, he recovered: the weakness, the apparent and all consuming fraility had been little more than a feint for which I had clumsily fallen. I wrenched my body aside as his blade clanged against the floor, cleaving the air I had occupied; yet I had not the time to riposte, for he immediately pivoted, pursuing me with broad strokes that sundered air and tugged upon my cloak with a hundred curious hands. I fell to my knees, rolling in desperation as he slammed both weapons into the earth no more than a half pace behind; yet here was his final and damning mistake.

I leaped to my feet, my blade turning to a flash of honeyed light that sank its fangs of steel into his corded thigh, severing muscle with an audible twang like failing bowstrings. He crumpled, and no sooner had his knees met the stone, than my fist was passing through that soft patch behind his jaw, driving fingers of cold iron into the warm, squirming mass that dwelt within his skull. It twitched, convulsed beneath my hand, as if it were itself alive and terrified of the fate that loomed before it. I pivoted, using my entire body to wrench the monster's brain from its throne, and cast the foul tendrils across the stones. Steam coursed from its nostrils and gaping maw as still with an expression that spoke of profound shock etched upon its features, the monster collapsed and fell forever still. I had triumphed this day.

I realized that I had knelt, dragged to the earth by the leaden mantle of fading anger. Rising, I strode through the revealed door, and paused a moment on the threshold. How many foes awaited me? How would I escape this place? Defeat flooded through me, a sense of hopelessness that quenched even the Cinder's heat. Cold, afraid for the first time in my immortal life, I sank to the ground, unable to rally the will to move on.

"Pathetic!" I slammed an iron fist against the stones, growling in helpless fury. "You shall not keep me here!" I was not certain to whom I cried, yet my shouts went predictably unanswered. Sorrow filled me, and in its glacial wake crept the vile, repulsive tendrils of shame. "Why must I always be so helpless?" I whispered.

Because you choose to be. I jerked, surprised. Casting about, I nearly embarrassed myself by demanding the speaker's source, when I knew fully that it came from within my own skull. Rise, Ashen One. It was the Keeper's voice, and her words chilled me despite the warmth with which they were spoken.

"I am sorry" My voice broke pitifully, and I buried my face in my hands. "I murdered you!"

You did what you believed to be right. I sensed that she would weather no further argument on the matter. Now rise, Ashen One. Cowering neither suits nor is demanded of you. 

"What point is there?" I felt her eyes upon me, chastising in their judgemental silence."Alright, alright." I stood, brushing the dust from my calves and thighs. "I'll stop brooding and get on with it."

She remained silent, yet I had the impression that she was smiling.

My body seemed wrought of solid iron, each step weighing twice so much as the last. Using the Cinder had drained me, and to flare it again, I suspected, would slay me. As I shambled toward the lavender radiance of the wilting lamp, I heard again the Keeper's words: Have no fear, Ashen One. I shan't let you fall.

What she meant by that, I could not say, only that it gave me the strength I lacked. It was therefore, more her strength than mine that sent me stumbling down the dimly lit corridor, my stake-driver's rugged tip glimmering softly in the shivering torchlight.

Your foes grow close, Ashen One she whispered, and I felt her invisible hand upon my shoulder, steadying me. Strike quickly. We have not time to waste.

With this sentiment I agreed, nodding as I turned, raising my burdened right arm and with a gesture primed its keen edged spear. I was dying. The Flame and Shadow clashed inside my body, and their furious struggle would tear me asunder. Yet I swore all the same: if I was to perish, it would be at my comrade's side, not here, not in the filth and mire of this befouled place. It was this thought that frightened me, yet all the same lent steel to my trembling limbs, and calmed my labored heart.

Before me loomed the portcullis behind which this realm's lord lurked. I raised a weary hand, yet found it locked, immobile as the stones into which it was set. The Cinder had grown cold in my breast, no more roused by my touch than the statues might be stirred by vehement epithets, even the foulest of which seemed unable to capture my frustration.

You shan't avoid the dungeon this time. I glared to my left, where I presumed the Fire Keeper would stand.

"Couldn't have guessed that one." I muttered, turning on my heel and noticing for the first time, the circular pit carved into the earth. "Down there seems promising."

Wait, Ashen One. You need not carry on alone.

"I doubt you can hold a blade." I sensed a charmed smile, and a shaking of her head.

To your left, Ashen One.

Sighing, I turned, cocking my head in confusion at that which I beheld: a disk of mottled crimson light lay sheltered in the corner, a blade of pale scarlet jutting from it and tapering as it reached for the heavens, yet rose no farther than the crest of my scalp.

"Wha-? I felt the Keeper smile again.

The Bell, Ashen One.

I shook my head. "I guess I am more weary than I thought." Rough metal rasped beneath my trembling fingers as I withdrew the Old Hunter's Bell, an ancient relic of times long past, that had weathered them poorly. Its sepulchral tone rang forth, low and melancholy, yet all the same it beckoned to whatever waited on the far side of the rippling mire.  

Tomb Prospector Olek stood before me, a faint smile on his lips as he bowed, then gestured for me to lead on. Wearily, I complied: half falling half climbing down the ladder; my limbs heavy and yet at the same time brittle as the weathered rungs beneath me. Immediately, a ghoul lunged toward me, its pale skin gleaming as if shrouded in oil, its bared teeth reflecting the torchlight like sabers of glass. Clumsily, I ducked beneath its slashing talons, and stepped inside its reach, my blade crunching diagonally through its solar plexus, and stilling the foul heart beyond.

As Olek joined me in the disk shaped chamber, I stumbled onward, straining against invisible chains that bound my feet to the earth all the more forcefully with each stride. I passed beneath a low, moss laden ceiling, and staggered into a much larger clearing: a dark cavern whose walls were shrouded in shadow and whose dark canopy was held aloft by broad, ancient pillars.

Sibilant, a cry steeped in primordial fury alerted me moments before the monster was upon me; its segmented armor glinting like plates of steel, its razor edged tail slashing forth, edge weeping vile, emerald green tears. Its face was little more than a tapering barb, its chest contorted by fang filled jaws that widened, trembling in eager anticipation. I ducked beneath the slashing tail, and was met by a gout of flame from its slavering mandibles. My vision was devoured in a blinding light, and my numb, heavy body was bathed in horrible pain. No cry was wrung from me, for the blast robbed me of breath and voice, stealing my strength and leaving me limp upon the charred, steaming flagstones.

Then, it was turning from me, its slate grey jaws open wide in a shriek of agony as Olek's blade punched through a chink in its armour, spraying a geyser of foul ichor that stained the stones and clung to the sleek lines of his sword. Rising unsteadily, I raised the stake-driver and thrust it against the monster's unguarded flank as it turned to menace my ally. A hiss, and a sickening crunch rang out as the barbed stake punched through chitin and crushed the organs beneath. The beast staggered, its many legs twitching uselessly, then collapsed, its elongated neck crumpling limp to the stone. White flame flared from within, and the slain beast dissolved.

Roll to your left, Ashen One! I dared not question her, and no sooner had I complied, than a cannonball was slamming into the space I had abandoned, spraying me with shards of shattered earth. Through a curtain of seething, jaundiced afterimage, I noticed a lever, and with gloved hands seized it, using my weight rather than my waning strength to pull it back, ancient gears squealing in porcine fury. Before me, a cylindrical cage slammed against the earth, and without prompting, I leaped into it, recognizing the lift for what it was.

Grinding and screeching, the cage halted alongside a stone outcropping, and with more energy than I thought my weary body capable I sprang out of that rickety contraption that seemed more deadly than anything waiting beyond. I turned left, and charged through a dark corridor lined with the same squat pillars that crouched below, my keen eyes alit with what remained of the Cinder's waning strength. Fire rolled through my veins as I discerned the gaunt creature who manned the cannon, and surging forward, I shouted a warning to my comrade below.

He glanced up, and his eyes widened in shock; then his face was crushed beneath an orb of beaten iron, tearing his head from his shoulders and shattering his spine. I knew nothing of Olek, knew his name only by virtue of the Keeper, knew his past only through guesswork, yet I felt a sharp pain roll through me, felt the dying fire in my blood swell and writhe; a tidal wave trapped inside my body, smashing furiously through my weary veins. I saw not Olek, but Or'do in that crumpled form, heard his voice when the Hunter cried out in agony, saw Or'do's blood stain the flagstones. I roared in furious challenge, and surged forth.

My blade crunched through the monster's armpit, and with a hydraulic bellow, the stake exploded from its opposite shoulder, hurling the beast from its perch and slamming its limp body against the ground far below, where it burst apart like an overripe melon flung from great height. The tolling or anger's thunderous bell echoed inside me as I turned on my heel, eyes that glowed with hate fixing upon the black clad woman whose bell conjured these foul beasts.

Again, that inhuman roar thrust clawed hands up my throat, and hauled itself from my gaping jaws. I sprang, unconsciously stoking the Cinder, flaring it to a blinding crescendo as my blade arched through the air in a silvered scythe, cleaving through cloth and passing through flesh with similar ease, smashing her head from its mount and casting both nearly three meters away. Flame seethed from my flesh, smoke burned from my jaws, and with a furious cry, I loped along the wall-less corridor behind her, smashing through the bronze door without pause, my form leaving its edges wilting and molten.

Surprise clear on its fat laden face, an obese creature turned upon short legs and leveled its blunderbuss, clearly thinking itself immune to my wrath. It fired, the volley striking my molten flesh and punching through with a sickening crunch, yet I was not slowed, much less halted. I sank my blade into the fleshy jowls that hid his neck, and fired the jagged stake through his skull. Before his obese frame had slumped to the earth, I had already surged past, grasping the lever he guarded, and with its movement unlocking the gate to this realm's Lord.

I recalled not how I had arrived, yet I now stood before the iron portcullis, my trembling hands easily raising it. Olek stood again at my side, seemingly unaffected by his recent death, and with hammer brandished eagerly, he lead the way, pausing before the door of fog and glancing back toward me.

"How does he stand again by my side?" I asked, slurring badly in my exhaustion.

In your delirium you summoned him again. Remember, Ashen One, he is no more a member of this realm than those you called through glyphs. 

 I nodded, shambling to Olek's side and laying a weary palm upon the rippling curtain, feeling its solidity and resting a moment upon it. The Cinder within my breast had quieted again, my blood cold as the mist against which I leaned. Darkness flared, and I stiffened, my veins aflame with an inferno that sliced through me like blades of frost. I collapsed, passing through the curtain as I did, and without concern, Olek bounded in after me.

Before us loomed a titanic hound, its body twice so long as I stood, and perhaps four times so broad. Its flesh was wrought of fire, and its eyes twin pools of hate locked within its obsidian skull. Flame rolled out beneath its paws as it advanced, growling in excitement as much as challenge.

Olek surged on, fearless in spite of our immense foe. Even as it lowered its head, and opened wide its slavering jaws in a cry of challenge, his hammer was already swinging, crashing against the monster's cheek with a thunderous peal.

Ashen One! The Keeper's words stirred me, rousing me from the stupor into which I had fallen. My heart beat slowly, an ominous thrum within my undead veins that slowed ever more as I staggered in after him. Hissing, my stake-driver's slate grey blade jutted forth, its ominous cry echoing in the silence between my haggard footsteps.

Either it did not yet notice me, or it knew of my frailty, sensed that I would pose neither the challenge nor the entertainment it sought. Whirling, it snapped at Olek, whose hasty retreat left the fringe of his white cloak weeping tears of flame and soot, and alit with cinder still, it snapped around him as he rolled, evading its massive paw as it struck the ground with such force that even at my great distance, I was still thrown to my knees.

Defiant, Olek rolled again, coming up behind the monster and bringing his hammer in a wide arc; its cudgel head becoming a silvered streak that turned to a geyser of magma as it struck the beast's flank, toppling it. At once, I was upon it, feeling that perhaps it was the Keeper not I who guided my hand as I thrust an armoured fist into the soft patch behind its jaw, and ripped free a handful of whatever foulness lurked beyond.

It wailed, thrashing and squealing as it crumpled, yet all the same it floundered to its feet before I could strike again. With eyes that smouldered in fury, it lunged: teeth like swords of red hot steel clamping around a leg I could not retract fast enough. With formidable, impossible strength, it hurled me across the chamber, slamming me against the far wall and extinguishing my vision as my spine shattered and burst from my chest in a spray of vile green-black like tar fouled with crushed leaves. Olek cried out, pained despite knowing me only as his conjurer, and struck once more as it gathered itself to spring upon my prone form and drink the life that gushed from my torn body.

Staggered yet not toppled, it slashed with claws of cracked glass, slicing only air as he leaped back, yet this time it lunged: fluid as liquid iron its paw swept out, catching his side and nearly splitting him in two. He hadn't time to cry out before it was closing jaws of fire around his frail, frail body.

Once more my weakness had cost me an ally. I made it only to my knees before with a sickening crack, his body shattered as if made of ancient clay. Anger and sorrow swelled within me, and I fell forward, catching myself with trembling hands braced upon the cold stones. Tears of fury burned along my jaw, and shuddering breaths wracked my body.

I saw not Olek in that beast's jaws, but Or'do. I watched the light fade from my dearest comrade's eyes, as the monster bore him into that most perfect darkness that lies beyond life, and bitterly I wept. Hate burned through me, banishing the frost of exhaustion, and swaying with weariness I felt no longer, I rose.

Ashen One, you haven't the strength to-

"I never will." I growled, thrusting one arm to the side, my weapon's notched spike jolting forth with a harsh clang. "No mere hallucination that was. A promise, from the Darkness itself: Or'do will fall. I cannot, shall not let that happen!" Fire rolled through my chest as with agonizing fury the Cinder blazed to life. "They shall not take him from me!"

Sagging forward still, I slogged onward, my blade carving a thin line in the earth at my back, sparks grinding from its ragged yet dangerously keen edge. The hound regarded me curiously, perhaps unsure what to make of my sudden revival.

My jaws snapped open, and from my parched throat burst a deafening cry. I lunged, my fist catching it beneath the chin, clacking its flaming teeth together and driving the monster to its knees. No sooner had its body slammed heavily against the earth, than my fingers of iron were crunching through its chest, ripping forth a quivering mass of the foulness that lay beyond. Now, it roared, yet this time it was not in challenge, but in equal parts fear and agony.

It retreated, yet I had not a dreg of mercy left in my drained soul. Dust rasped beneath my sole as I pivoted around it, keeping its flanks before me and its muzzle hopelessly far. My iron fist crashed against its hip, once more toppling the beast, rolling it onto its back and baring its soft belly. Its eyes widened in shock as I vaulted atop its thrashing form, and battered by its slashing paws, rocked by the quaking of its body, I knelt, stake-driver poised over the bloodied flesh where its heart lurked. This time, my strike was true, blasting through its body with such force that the stones beneath shattered, and its blood gushed like a sundered dike.

No more did its wails assail me, for its breath had erupted from its shattered form. Mute, it looked upon me with plaintive eyes that dimmed even as I met their confused stare. I knelt, resting my bloodied hand upon its brow, and there I remained, holding the beast's gaze until Death took it mercifully in his dark arms.

Flame turned cold in my veins, and I collapsed. My memories blurred, brief traces of striding through that labyrinth, of my blade lashing out, of foes crumpling with blood tracing a crescent fan from torn throat, or a black geyser from sundered chest. I stood before the portcullis without recalling how I had arrived.

"What point is there?" I rasped, resting my hands upon my trembling knees. "I'll never escape this place."

Your comrade needs you, Aleorn.

"I know!" Anger flared in my veins, yet quickly faded back into the frost of my dying flesh. "But how?" My voice broke, and I fell to my knees. "How?"

I do not know, Ashen One. She sounded as lost and desolate as I; her words hollowed by an aching, profound emptiness that jarred me. What I do know, Ashen One, is that whether you meant to or not, you have beckoned Darkness into the realms once more. Long has it lurked, long has it awaited this moment, the cataclysmic Return. If you do not succeed here, your comrade and all of creation, will fall.

I gritted my teeth, trembling and straining with muscles that quickly became bands of fire, hands of ice that clawed at my haggard body with furious, relentless abandon. Perhaps halfway, I rose, then I collapsed once more, my breath fleeing in an ashen gust.

"I haven't the strength." I gasped.

Then we are truly without hope.

Or'do sighed, leaning heavily against the braided iron lamp, which he had long ago discovered. He cast about, taking in the towering bonfire below, and the dark clad figures tending to it, or knelt in various postures of reverence around it.

"Where is he?" Referring to Aleorn, he spoke this softly, fearing that the horde lurking below his outcropping would take notice. "I pray he is alright." A distant peal of thunder drew his attention to the bleak, yet cloudless horizon. Before he could so much as inhale in shock, the sky had turned black, the stars becoming bloodied streaks that wept across the heavens and struck the earth with solemn, hollow notes.

Leaping to his feet, Or'do drew his blade, closing fingers of steel around his rugged pommel and pivoting as he rose, bringing it into diagonal guard. Around him, the earth seethed, fissures of blackness blazing through the flagstones, and from their stygian depths crawled unspeakable horrors; bodies of men twisted and fouled, arms sprouting like grotesque wings from hunched backs, bleeding coils lashing and curling around hidden legs, eyes of deep scarlet blazing as heads misshapen, craggy and ruined as the stones, turned toward him.

Too many horrors had he seen for such things to trouble him, at least in appearance, yet when Or'do felt their eyes upon him, he knew that these were not creatures he could fight. The nearest among them lunged, and instantly the memory of Vicar Amelia flashed through his mind, her crumpled form etched in tones of ash and flame. Startled, he barely managed to deflect its twisted hand, yet all the same its foul aura washed over him, and within his breast the Cinder shivered. He lunged away, sprinting across that pitted field, toward the fortress upon its peak, where the Which of Hemwick Charnel Lane waited. She was formidable, yet those at his back, were far more than he could possibly vanquish. If he was right, they like most, could not traverse the gate of fog. Death closed from all sides now, yet he had faith.

"Come on, Aleorn. I know you're there, waiting for some dramatic entrance." He grunted, ducking as a withered arm lashed overhead. "Help me, Aleorn. Come back to my side before its too late." Glancing skyward, he murmured: "For us all."

You need to unlock it. The Keeper said gently as I dragged a forlorn hand across the firmly resolute portcullis, as if my touch alone would soften its columns or persuade its lock.

"I cannot walk, much less fight my way through this labyrinth."

All the same, you cannot very well smash through it. She chided, her soft words neither infuriating no comforting me, merely deepening the grim darkness that gathered inside, swallowing my soul and quenching the fires behind my eyes. Then, a vison: Or'do falling to the the ground, which seethed and writhed like a beast in pain. Creatures twisted and foul, blighted in ways neither words nor mind could possibly capture, slashed with claws like rust plagued iron, battering him and driving him to his knees. The scene diminished slightly, retreating until I could see clearly that he had indeed found the Lantern, and proceeded in his boredom, well beyond it. The home of the Witch of Hemlock Charnel Lane, lay sundered and afire around him, great rugged slabs of stone jutting from a sea of roiling shadow.

This is but a glimpse of that which is yet to come. I sensed again the clawing sadness, that fathomless sorrow that swelled from deep within, and rose like the ravenous tides to devour her, body and soul. The Darkness has waited long from its return, has lingered in the shadows on reality's fringe and watched us. Now, at last, it swells from the deep to seize our realm once more.

"Surely it cannot all pour forth!" I said this more in denial than hope, yet her response nonetheless heartened me.

Indeed. When I said this was but a glimpse, it was not merely my penchant for poetry. The Darkness' garrisons still lurk hidden and baleful; their first legion this is, a mere scouting party behind which the siege shall follow. 

"Then we have time still." I gritted my teeth, and locking fingers of steel around the portcullis, hauled myself to my feet. Swaying, standing on legs that burned and cried out in silent voices, clawing beneath my skin with desperate hands, I all the same drew back my iron fist. "He shan't give up. Not now, and not ever." Flame seethed within me, and upon my breast the Cinder shone: a broadening disk of mottled light that flared and blazed, turning my undead flesh into a lantern lit with undying flame. "And neither shall I!" My fist crashed against the gate, and beneath my power it crumbled. I felt the Dark within me, that blighted Cinder that coveted my warmth. It loathed me, hated me for that which I represented. Good. Let it try to stop me.

Or'do stumbled, his blade slaking its thirst upon the stones, driving itself up to the hilt in mired soil. The Dark surged on around him, and within his blood, the Cinder had grown cold. Breath misted from his jaws, curling around his hands and weaving a thin veil around his face as it rose. Another beast lunged toward him, and with impossible speed he wrenched the blade from its tomb and slashed from heel to shoulder, its blade a silvered arc that passed through the monster's twisted wrist, shattering bone and scattering beads of its foul blood across the heaving stone.

Like a jagged crack in its pitted face, the monster's jaws opened wide in a low, keening wail that reeked of agony, yet did not give him pause. One foot shifted forward, and in same moment, he was striking again: kneeling and pushing off his back foot, driving the radiant tip of his blade through its lashing tongue, and spearing its head with a horrid, resounding crunch! He twisted away, ripping the blade free and spraying his back with its coarse, steaming fluids. In the single breath he had spent slaying this beast, another score had risen.

Pain tore through him as a clawed hand snagged his trailing leg, laying bare his calf as it tore cloth and flesh with equal, terrible ease. He collapsed, folding his hands atop the pommel of Ludwig's Holy Blade as he drove it between the cracked stones, and leaned heavily upon it. He drew back his parched lips in a grimace, coughing the ashes of a crumbling world from his lungs. Now they fell upon him with ruthless abandon, their claws turning his cloak to ribbons, their fangs rending his flesh. Darkness rippled across his vision like vines of pitch poured over his wide, bloodshot eyes, and suddenly weak, he collapsed.

We sat at the hem of a Bonfire's soothing warmth, the night cold and dark at our backs. Aleorn leaned forward, his eyes bright with merriment. 

"No foe too mighty, eh?!" He gestured toward the distant lair of Aldritch, who lay fallen in his foul cavern, bleeding his last into the mire he called home.

"Indeed!" Or'do laughed softly. "But we haven't won yet."

Confused, Aleorn cocked his head by way of reply. 

"We've yet to slay the Soul. Again."

"Ah that. A matter for later!" He waved a hand dismissively. "We've for eternity served the Flame, slogged through countless planes and slain countless Souls. A thousand years we have lived, yet now is the first time I have felt alive. Let us revel in it, if only briefly."

Or'do smiled.  "I feel the same way."

The beast before me was some twisted fusion of man and wolf; a bipedal creature whose long, crooked fingers ended in crescent claws, and whose torso was consumed in coarse fur that gave way along its dark neck, only to swarm with renewed fervor around its vulpine face. Jaws lined in sloping, glistening fangs, gaped wide as it howled in feral challenge, and crouching low, spread its long arms wide as if to embrace me.

Without warning or preamble, it lunged: flame swelling in the palms of his foul hands. I ducked low, avoiding a wide swing that seared the air, and bathed the wall beyond in a river of fire. Rolling forward, I passed between its wide set legs, coming up behind and raking my blade of slate along its back of obsidian, carving a long, deep gash. Perhaps it was weariness, or merely ignorance born of overconfidence, for I did not predict its reaction: without so much as a cry of fury or agony, it turned on bare heel, and slammed an iron fist against my face, staggering my. Its next blow hammered against my stomach, then snapping its claws out, it pierced my flesh, lifting me easily over its head, as if I were no more than a child, and perhaps to it, one so ancient and long steeped in darkness, I was.

It slammed my haggard, beleaguered form against the stones, shattering rock and bone, shrouding the battlefield in a cyclone of sundered rock and swirling dust. Growling, I flared the Cinder, rising to my feet and immediately throwing myself upon it once more. Blade raised level with my shoulder, I paused a moment, gathering my strength, then thrust with all my power, yet it merely deflected the ragged, stained stake upon its leathery wrist, and turning its hand, closed fingers of steel around my forearm. I lunged forward, surprising it; and pivoting, I used momentum as much as my fading strength to drive an armoured fist against its ribs.

Now it was the beast's turn to stagger, to fall to its knees in surprise and pain. I shook my weapon arm, the stake-driver sliding free and clattering to the earth with a resonant, mournful clang. I sank into a pugilist's stance: low with feet spread wide, turned slightly toward my foe, fists raised before me. The beast fixed me with radiant eyes of deep scarlet, then smiled -a sickening expression upon its twisted face - and with sibilant, rough voice spoke.

"Child of the Light, slave of Cinder, you shall not escape this place."

"Oh hell no!" Or'do's voice rang through my skull. "That bastard can't stop you, Aleorn. Not now, not ever. No foe is too mighty, nor are we ever too frail. It is our right to change this world, mine and yours."
 
"Neither," I grinned despite my agony. "Shall you."

Like a whirlwind of razor shards, a scream of fury and pain tore from Or'do's throat. He slammed the ornate blade of his greatsword into the earth, and heaved himself to his feet. Again, he roared, both arms spread wide, head tilted back.

For the longest time, I was alone. Or'do thought, yet never had I thought myself in need of company save for that of my blade.

Aleorn had turned his gaze skyward, studying the stars with softly radiant eyes. "How many worlds must we conquer?" He asked, his voice hollow once more.

"As many as there are." Or'do said. "The pair of us, are unstoppable."

Or'do bellowed, twisting his entire body as he ripped the blade free, and brandished it against the forces of darkness. Flame swelled in his breast, rippling along his body, transfiguring his undead flesh to a patchwork of glowing ember and black char. He roared again, sweeping the blade in a broad arc, crashing through the horde before him with the radiant fury of a fallen star. One step he took, his pulse an ominous thunder in his ears.

"We are unstoppable." Or'do lunged, lowering his shoulder and battering the nearest monster with his entire weight, toppling the mangled creature and in the same fluid motion whipping his blade through its thrashing body.

"I never thought I would have a reason." Aleorn confessed. "A purpose in this eternal life."

"Neither did I." Or'do murmured. And now that I do, I will let nothing take it from me.

With the frenzied force of a raging hurricane he fell upon the siege of shadow, their claws raking his body, their swords rending his flesh, yet he waded on all the same. Slogging through a mire of silt and blood, he slashed with furious abandon, caring not when a gap in his guard let foul talons slice his ribs, noticing not when his life's warmth turned cold on the stones around him, felt not the glacial pain rolling through him like a frigid tide.

I will let nothing take it from me.

Its claws scoured the flat of my blade, grinding against the ornate molding, and spraying my face with sparks. I pivoted, launching a diagonal slash that pealed against its ragged claw, rebounding as surely as if it were a wall of mortar and stone I had struck. I staggered back, my blade weaving a network of silvered lines through the air as I parried its flurry of blows, which rang upon me like a hailstorm of iron.

Another pace I was driven back, another. My blade thrashed in my grasp, cowering beneath the force of my foe's blows, trembling as if it were itself a thing alive and shivering in fright. Cracks formed, widened, spread like rivers of pitch, as grinning, the monster intensified its assault. Both hands came in from above, crashing against my trick weapon with such force that the driver was split in two, shattering apart and leaving my arm bare save for ribbons of flesh and vines of dark blood that crept fearfully toward my shoulder.

The next swipe caught me across the face, casting me across the stones like a child's plaything tempestuously abandoned. Pain wracked my body, a thousand burning needles barbed and edged in cruel hooks that tore me apart from within. I coughed and gasped, floundering to my feet in time to be smote down again.

I shuddered, fell to my knees, and felt the Cinder falter within my breast. It advanced, triumphant, its eyes radiant with merciless flame. The Beast raised a bloodied hand, fist clenched and wreathed in flame that cast flickering light over half its twisted face, the orb convulsing ever more wildly as he drew back to strike.

Or'do reached down, proffering a gloved hand. "Get off your ass, Aleorn. We've work to do." Even my imagination thought him blunt, it would seem. All the same, I felt fire surge through me, igniting my cold veins with fresh life.

As its fist descended like a star smote from heaven's vault, I backhanded it aside, and lunged to my feet; my body ablaze with fury and agony. Like cold chains binding me to the earth, pain dragged me down, slowed my movements, clogged my throat like solidifying tar. All the same, I struck: my fist moving as if through honey, smashing against its chest with incredible force. It stumbled back, shock clear even on its most foul features. I gave it not time to reconsider, retreat, or worse strike me down, I ducked low and surged in behind the staggering blow, driving my fist against its jaw, snapping the creature's head back with an audible clack of teeth on teeth, and the deep, wet crunch of splitting vertebra. Again I struck, again, again! Fury devoured my sanity, rendering my fists light as wind, my blows heavy as crumbling mountains. It reached out, snagging my hand with its own, and with impossible strength, it lifted me to peer into its eyes. Like molten emerald, those hateful almonds bored into me, then widened in shock as I reached in past its long arm, plunging fingers of cold, hard iron into its soft flesh, and ripping free one of its ribs.

Limp, it folded to the earth, then burst apart in a brilliant flare. Once more, I had cleansed the dark, and once more, I had succumbed to it. The madness lingered still, an irrepressible urge to crush, to smash, to destroy whatever I could. I knew not how long I could resist its allure.

"Why did this not vanish with the rest of its body?" I asked, expecting the Keeper's voice yet still startled when it came.

For the same reason that bullets or vials do not.

"Keeper..."

I do not know. She confessed, imparting an image of her with arms spread in a prolonged shrug. Only that it was from such bones that the First Flame was kindled.

"The Flame," I mused. Gently, I tucked the dark, mottled bone into a crease in my armour, wearing it diagonally as one would mount a sheathed blade or brimming quiver.

Surely you do not mean to-

"I do." I interjected, following her logic swiftly, for it was in a way, also mine. She knew that I intended to build again the First Flame, construct it here in the heart of Darkness. "It was not hate for the Flame that gave me cause to murder you." My voice still pitifully broke at the memory. "But of the Cycle it perpetuated."

You are dying already; blighted as you are by the Darkness, I doubt you can survive the Flame's flare.

"But if I do, I can save this realm." I had already begun striding toward the chamber's far side, where an elevator waited recessed in the stone and lost to shadow; a predator's maw gaping wide and eager. "And that is enough for me."

Or'do smashed an armored fist against the nearest foe, feeling only a burst of icy pain in his shoulder, and a slight tug on his arm as if by hesitant, supplicant hands, as his arm passed through the monster's roiling flesh, spraying its comrades with the foulness that inhabited its veins. The Cinder within him, was fading, and despite his anger, there was nothing more he could do to kindle it. Around him a thousand lay in the crumpled, ignoble postures that death merrily arranged, yet scores still writhed from the earth, or came in chariots of stone and fire from the heavens themselves.

Or'do placed a fond hand on Aleorn's shoulder, both laughing, elated as they stood over the Soul's limp frame.

Again, he lunged, the Cinder cold in his breast, yet his limbs still moving, still laying about with hammer blows.

"I cherished his company." Or'do thought. "He was more than I thought possible in this bleak world; another like me. Someone to drive away the loneliness of this sordid place."

"I've been meaning to ask you for some time." Aleorn gestured widely, capturing Or'do's entire body with a sweep of his gloved hand. "Why do you appear as I do?"

Or'do shrugged. "No reason." He grimaced beneath Aleorn's stare. "Alright, alright!" Or'do laughed, raising his hands palm outward in mock surrender. "Before I came to your world, I had conquered mine. When I slew the Soul, I gained something, the first trace of the Cinder we now bear. I saw you, Aleorn. Struggling, fighting with all your might to resist that which was inevitable, much as I once did."

"So you stole my look?" 

"Not exactly," Or'do laughed again. "I was selfish, unkind, even cruel. I cared not for you, in fact I was merely amused at your piteous struggle. At the helplessness in your eyes, the fury that could find no release. Then, I strode off again, to face once more the Soul. Yet this time, something was different. With flame of white and eyes of shadow, he matched me blow for blow. He smote me down, tore the frail Cinder from my chest, and left me there, bleeding and frail."

"The Soul?" Aleorn asked, almost hesitant to interject, fearing perhaps that Or'do would once more withdraw into that taciturn ally who neither smiled nor laughed, neither spoke nor cheered, whose eyes never wept nor glittered with that characteristic merriment. 

"Aye. The Darkness had taken him, as I." He paused, uncertain. "Took you."

Aleorn stared on in shock. "You what?!"

"I was fortunate, when my life faded, I remembered you, recalled vividly your struggle, and felt you fall. I stole your body, Aleorn. I became your twin when you reformed. When I saw you, I could not speak, could not find the words to capture my sorrow: I had exploited you as I had so many others, yet this time, I felt different, I felt guilty. I thought you would never forgive me, Aleorn. That once and forevermore, I would be alone."

"That will never happen." Aleorn promised. "No matter how you came to my side, I'll let nothing tear you from it."

"I really did care for him." Or'do thought. "And now, I will throw it all away." He fell to his knees once more, brought low by their ceaseless onslaught. He closed his mental hand around the shadow that lurked beside the light, the Dark that dwelt were Cinder had glowed. From within swelled a horrible cold, a frigid flame that welled from the deepest part of his heart, where only the bleakest sorrow lay. "DAMN YOU!" He screamed, tears burning from the corners of his eyes as he touched the darkness, and let it flood through him. His vision faltered, turned ashen, and faded. "I'm sorry, Aleorn." He whispered. "But I guess I still am that selfish coward who stole your corpse." One last tear streamed along his cheek. "Forgive me."

"No!" I beheld Or'do's struggle, and his surrender, through a vision bestowed by the Keeper.

You cannot save him, Ashen One. She said this not unkindly, yet I bristled all the same.

"Why?!" I fell to my knees, fists of iron slamming against the flagstones as tears burned like liquid glass from my eyes. "Why did you show me that?!"

Because you needed to see it.

I roared in fury, and throwing the bone to the earth, I bellowed a wordless challenge. Not Or'do, not him. The Fates had stolen everything from me, yet he was one thing they would never take. Again, I screamed, yet this time in pain, as I thrust a hand inside my own body, and tore my own rib free.

Ashen One! The Keeper's invisible hand grasped my wrist, yet I jerked my arm free, throwing the bloody splinter atop the rib of my fallen foe.

"By the bone of my body," I felt the rib regenerate, yet simple tore it out once more, piling it upon the others. "By the blood in my veins," Again, again, again! I ground my bones to tinder, and set other glistening ribs upon them. "By the cold of my sorrow," I fell on hands and knees, one hand on either side of the small, damp pile. "By the fire of my soul," I reached to my breast, nearly toppling as I did so, and dug my steel fingers into the flesh beneath which the Cinder lay. "I swear," My fingers brushed against searing heat, and pinching off part of the pulsing mass, I plunged my hand into the makeshift kindling, igniting with a blinding flare the bones of Dark and Light. "I SHALL NOT LET YOU WIN!"

Darkness. Or'do was lost, alone, devoured in shadow. Yet he felt all the same his body moving, striking down those before him.

His fist of iron smashed against sallow flesh, crunched against pitted bone, grated against steel and burst on through. Again they struck, yet this time, he parried their blows upon nothing more than an upraised arm. He was a whirlwind of shadow and light, his fists silvered meteors that with celestial force smote the twisted kin of Darkness.

Long, wordless, wracked with pain and sorrow, his voice rang out as like a dervish of black steel, he surged across the field of battle, his slender frame splattered in blood, his legs slogging through a mire of blood and torn flesh, yet still he did not slow. Vines of blackness erupted from his forearms, slashing through the foes encircling him with little more than a gentle tug, as if it were damp paper through which he passed. Anger drove him on, gave strength to his fading arms, gave power to his once frail limbs.

Their shrieks became a horrid, dissonant melody; a thrumming knell that told of his despair in its sordid notes. His breath misted in black tendrils that veiled his angular features, turning his once kind eyes into pools of molten scarlet whose pale radiance was only intensified by the darkness on which they were cast. He waded onward, slashing wildly, great wings of blackness erupting from his back; knobbed bones across which thin membrane hung, and lashing these, he launched himself into the sky.

Dark fire poured from his jaws, washing over the battlefield as he came down once more, smashing into the sea of limbs and bodies like a stone from space set alight by the force of its entry. Like war-hammers his fists crashed home, tearing flesh and sundering bone into dust. He lunged, his trailing foot vomiting a tidal swell of black fire that devoured those behind him, and with another howl of desperate anger, he slammed into the wall of adversaries.

As if the sun itself were stained black and thrust to the earth, a great orb of fire swelled out from his impact, devouring his foes and leaving nothing but rugged, pitted, forever befouled ruin in its wake. He sagged, crumpling to the earth like a marionette with severed strings, his strength gone alongside his consciousness, yet the Dark had not mercy for him. The chime of bells rang out, and the red moon turned scarlet. From it came a mass of twisted limbs: the One Reborn came forth in a spray of foul liquid, its many limbs thrashing with eagerness and lust.

"Could not you have simply reformed?" This, Aleorn had asked, when Or'do told him of his thievery. 

"No." He shook his head sadly. "When the Dark Cinder struck me down, it severed my connection to the Flame. It was you that saved me from oblivion, and for that I shall forever be in your debt."

Or'do wept bitterly, lost in a darkness that deepened with each breath. He felt his life fading, and knew that the Dark had won, had claimed his body as plague claims flesh. No choice had he but to succumb, for his strength was already gone, and before him loomed a creature more than capable of dispatching him. With the frost of sorrow thick and heavy upon his heart, he closed his mental hand around the darkness, and prepared to draw upon it. Then, a light: pale, yet insistent; an anchor of gossamer to which he desperately clung. Faint words drifted through his stupor:  "Not like this!"

"Aleorn?" He murmured. "Aleorn!" He released the Dark, and the inexplicable light intensified, dragging him back to the world he had abandoned.

I stood over him, panting and gasping, my flesh the patchwork of char and flame that defines a Lord of Cinder. My eyes burned with light, with hate as I turned from him to the Old One Reborn. I felt more than saw him wake beneath me, yet I held him back with an outstretched hand.

"You've fought hard, Or'do. Rest now, my friend." Fire burst from my fists, curling up past my elbows like curious serpents. "They will pay for what they have done." I stalked forward, my steps leaving the stone molten and charred, my singed breath hissing from flaming lips.

The Old One seemed hesitant, recoiling upon its thousand limbs, eyeing me from afar with palpable trepidation. I lunged, crossing the meters between us as if it were mere paces, my fist of flame and steel crashing against its tangled body, heaving the monster to the earth. I charged along its body, striding to the grey, pallid torso that jutted from its tomb of writhing limbs and twisted flesh. Hate filled me, washed away my agony, as I charged over that span, its countless hands clawing at me in desperation, yet their fingers melted as they drew near, and the flesh beneath me turned brittle and black. My legs were engulfed in flame as I leaped, slamming my conflagrant hand into its jaw, spraying the monster across its immense body as a shower of ash. It fell limp beneath me, and burst apart in a radiant flare.

I felt weakness then, my limbs that had long yearned for collapse at last surrendering. I crumpled, and lay still, cold, nigh lifeless upon the stones. My vision turned ashen, then dark as a starless night, yet I met oblivion with a comrade's embrace, for at last, my friend was safe, and live or perish, I had at last repaid him for those merry nights that lived eternal inside me.

"How am I alive?" I mused, directing the question more to Fate than my comrade.

"I do not know." Or'do spread his hands, shrugging, yet something about it did not convince me. I decided not to press the matter, for he would tell me in due course, and as he not I saw fit.

"The Nightmare deepens, and no longer have we the luxury of endless retries." I grimaced, a sudden flare of pain bursting from my weary heart and spreading to the edges of my smouldering skin.

"I'm alright," I said unconvincingly. "We've greater concerns."

"Like how you became a Lord of Cinder in a land without Flame." His words brought the redness of embarrassment to my cheeks, a memory of screaming in hate, of tearing my own ribs and setting them alight.

"I-" My voice faltered and failed me, a sudden, profound sorrow surging from within like a font of glacial ichor. "I thought I had lost you, and in my blind fury, I tore my own bones from my body, and ripped free a shard of my own Cinder."

"Or'do!" I screamed in fury, thrusting my flame wreathed hand deeper into the pile of damp bones. Lightning flashed through me, and with a blinding surge, the Flame flared to life, flooding me with impossible strength, intensifying my weary body's agony, yet giving me the strength to stand all the same. I stood with hands fisted and trembling at my sides, flame rolling from my body as if eager to be rid of me. 

"Damn you!" I spoke to the Dark itself, shouting in almighty rage. My Flame swelled, curling around me, devouring my sight. When I woke, it was upon the field where my dearest friend had fallen.

"Damn!" Or'do seemed at a loss. "Just damn! You ripped out your own cinder?!"

I nodded wearily. "I have built the first Flame here in the heart of Darkness, planted the seed of a cancer that shall forever spread. The Ashen Ones can now flood to this realm, can now realize what we did." Another flash of searing pain, my vision turned grey as the Ash itself.

"Aleorn!" Or'do's words startled me. I shivered, realizing that I had fallen, and now lay prone upon the earth.

"I was the Heir, yet now I am the Lord." I managed, trying without success to rise. "The Flame exacts a great toll."

"You don't say." He said, gently lifting me back into a siting posture, setting me against a spur of rock as if I had no life of my own; a child's doll set in dramatic pose.

"We cannot tarry here." I indicated the bleak heavens. "The Dark will return."

"Alright then, my damsel." Or'do scooped me into his arms. "Let us away."

"Damn it Or'do" I muttered, yet relief as much as merriment pulled a smile across my lips.

"Damn it, Aleorn!" Or'do knelt at Aleorn's side, his powerful hands fisted and trembling at his sides; a symbol of his helplessness as clear as the burning tears upon his cheek. "Aleorn!"

There was no response from his friend, whose flesh had chilled, the flames dying alongside his weak, frail heart. Where that valiant heart had pealed thunder through Aleorn's veins in life, so to was its silence equally profound. The clash of Dark and Light inside him, had torn Aleorn apart, yet it was Or'do who felt the agony of a heart torn asunder.

"Why?!" He slammed an iron fist into the pitted stone. "Why?!" Sorrow again swelled from that cold, bleak heart, and once more he felt that bitter hopelessness wash over him.

"Frail Cinder, if any strength you yet have, if any Flame I still shelter, I beg you: leave me, bring back my comrade!" He wept, yet this time, not for himself. "Fate, take it all, I'll sacrifice everything I have!" Fists of iron once more crunched against stone. "Take my life if that be the toll, take my vitality and make it his!"

Flame swirled from his once barren Cinder, encircling his hands and surging like pouncing vipers into Aleorn's flesh. Or'do's vision wavered, and he pulled back his flaming hands before darkness stole his sight. All the same, Aleorn gasped, spasming and thrashing as if besieged from within. He rolled on to his side, gasping and retching, ash streaming between his parched lips as fire once more glowed among the ridges and vales of his craggy, ashen skin.

"Gods, Aleorn! I thought you were dead!" Or'do cried, embracing his comrade with a ferocity and desperation that startled even him.

"I think I was." Aleorn managed. "Why did I not reform?"

Because the pair of you have lost your connection to the Flame. The Keeper's voice reached both Or'do and Aleorn, ringing through their heads as if it was from there that it had come.

"But I just created another Flame!" Aleorn protested, then grinning in spite of himself as Or'do cocked an eyebrow, offered only "I'll explain later".

And in so doing lost your connection to the Other. You have begun the process of claiming this world, yet the new Flame is not yet strong enough to restore you.

"Meaning that if we perish..." Aleorn trailed off, neither needing nor wanting to finish the thought.

It will indeed be the end of you.

"Wait here, my fragile maiden." Or'do set me beneath the lavender glow of a wilting lantern. We - or he, rather - crouched behind a jutting shelf of rock, which upon cursory examination was revealed to be protruding skulls with jaws opened wide in shock or terror. Above and several meters beyond loomed a massive fortress, its windows lit from within by a soft sapphire glow that washed over the jutting spires like pale moonlight. Or'do and I knew well the falsehood of its tranquility; a mere stride into its light, and the window would immediately flare harsh orange, and cast madness upon us.

"Do I have a choice?" I managed through gritted teeth.

"Well if you're feeling exceptionally vital you could writhe after me." Or'do said this offhandedly enough, yet a tremor in his tone betrayed his concern. He lingered there, staring down at me, perhaps afraid that it his eyes left my fragile body, it would dissolve as city of sand before the rising surf.

"Go on then." I gestured weakly. "We've more than a few battles before us."

He nodded, and drawing his ornate greatsword, the blade that Ludwig himself wielded, Or'do strode valiantly toward the cliff far to our left. I sighed, collapsing now that his stare no longer held me aloft. Every muscle burned like sifting embers, every breath was a fresh burst of agony. The Dark and Light clashed with each heartbeat. I knew my time here grew short.

"Damn it." I clawed at the ground beneath me. "Damn it!" I strained, my bicep bulging and trembling as I lifted myself into a half sitting position, then to a crouch. "Damn it all!" I surged to my feet, standing unsteadily, swaying and weak, yet standing no less. If these days were to be my last, then I would not lose the chance to be a part of them.

"Damn it, Aleorn!" Or'do caught me as - not for the first time - I staggered, nearly collapsing. "Being impetuous is my job!" His mirth was cold as my slowing heart, and just so perilously close to lifelessness. We had managed to reach the gate of fog behind which Micolash, Host of Nightmares waited, yet at the threshold, with hand raised to cross, I had doubled over instead, blood and ash streaming from my lips and curling around the edges of my wide eyes.

"You can't fight like that!" Or'do protested as I raised my hand once more. Is this my fault? He wondered. Did my selfish desire damn him to a bleak life of misery and anguish?

Forcibly, I straightened. Flame surged along my weary limbs like coals stirred to life by soft, affectionate breeze. My legs trembled, my heart pealed its arrhythmic thunder through my cold veins, yet I forced myself to stand all the same.

"Our last battle draws near. I cannot let you face it alone."

"Micolash? Surely he isn't our last foe!"

"No, but quite near it. Beyond him looms the final adversary before we can at last face the purest form of Darkness to inhabit this realm." I coughed, a ragged mire of ash and blood rising in my throat, and burning fiercely as I forced it back down. Inside me, the Dark and Cinder flared, warring in their silent way, and ravaging the battlefield that was my body. Once more, I pressed my hand against the gate of fog.

"You've nothing to prove, Aleorn!"

"Not to you perhaps." I strode through its frigid depths, and passed into the candlelit home of Micolash. "Yet to myself, much still remains."

Micolash lay at our feet, his birdcage helm dented and battered, his body sundered by a thousand blows from Or'do's furious fist. I had chased him, pursued the insane man into Or'do's reach, where the life was torn from Micolash's veins, and sprayed across the stones. His madness was at an end, and now, only a few of the Dark's soldiers lay between our blades, and Mergo's Wet Nurse. Yet I felt as if I could no longer move these haggard bones across the flagstones, as if one step would shatter me like glass.

"Please, these are mere slaves of Darkness, I can handle them." Or'do looked upon me with radiant, plaintive eyes.

"I trust you." I fell to my knees, then to my back,  staring at the arched ceiling. "But all the same, call to me before you dare challenge the Nurse."

"As you wish." He bowed at the waist, then hurried out of the room; perhaps fearing that I might reconsider my surrender. Watching him leave, I had a terrible feeling that I would never see him again.

Or'do stooped slightly, his cloak stained crimson with the feces laden blood of a maneater boar. Crouched as he was, it was upon a plane of square flagstones that he beheld its two hulking brethren. The stones quaked like ancient towns besieged by the riotous earth, as with rumbling bellows, the many eyed creatures hurled themselves toward him with impossible speed.

Like stones from falling battlements they fell upon him, paws wringing plumes of dust from the long untouched stones, jaws lined with foul teeth and fetid breath yawning wide in challenge and hunger; yet he was unmoved. Or'do rolled headlong, passing between the beasts and slashing at their meaty flanks, connecting twice before they had maneuvered their bulk toward him once more.

The first found its chin smashed by his iron fist, its entire head twisted to the side, slamming its body against that of its comrade and tipping both like listing freighters. Their bloated forms writhed uselessly upon the ground, their skulls bursting apart in the fashion of overripe melons beneath his unforgiving fists and equally merciless stone.

He strode on, his breath coming in calm, even bursts that belied the chaos of his troubled heart. Aleorn. Has my greed once more been the torment of those I cherish? Have I once more destroyed that which I sought only to save? These tormented him, abandoning him only when the terrible joy of combat washed away his sanity. The Dark took him in those moments, yet it also sheltered him from his pain. Its promise was too tantalizing, too intoxicating it seemed. He surrendered without question.

"Mrraaaah!" Or'do smashed through the last of his foes; a slender figure draped in grey and wielding a now forcefully discarded scimitar. It lay sundered beneath him, its blood gleaming like spilled pitch in the waning light, its blade an arc of mercury upon the stones. Without hesitation, Or'do strode into the elevator beyond, shifting his weight impatiently as it ascended. When he realized that what lay beyond was another gate of fog, nearly the last of their evermore rapidly dwindling foes, he paused.
Aleorn. Fingers of iron clenched at his sides, the sharp pain of cartilage sifting in his wrists, quenching the flame of bloodlust from his eyes. If accompany me you do, perish you shall. The thought chilled him more than he would ever admit.

If I take you with me, then the last I shall ever see of you, is your body thrown upon the stones. The last I will hear of your merry voice, is the shattered tones Death wrings from your throat. Dust swelled beneath his soles, flaring out with each step as if it were water through which he strode. I will finish this quickly, my friend. Rest well, Aleorn. 

Anger blazed through him, filling his veins like rivers of fire. They dared hurt you. They dared strike you down. They dared try to take you from me! Metal screamed in its shrill voice as he clenched his gauntleted fists, shattering the metal that clung to his fingers. They shall learn the depth of their mistake! He paused, a hand resting upon the veil of mist, and turned; expecting Aleorn to come staggering after him any moment.

Aleorn. You were the brother I never had, and the comrade I cannot lose. He shook his head slowly. I cannot bring you into this, knowing that you will only die. Forgive me, for I must defy you. A slashed hand bore him through that frail curtain, and into the dark chamber beyond.

***

Before Or'do's blazing eyes lay nothing more threatening than a baby's carriage, from which soft, puling cries issued. Confused, he strode toward it, head cocked in bewilderment. Overhead, the rush of displaced air alerted him moments before an immense figure clad in feathers of shimmering black, slammed to the earth before him. She crouched protectively over the carriage, then slowly raised a deeply cowled face, hidden eyes regarding him balefully. Hissing in ominous chorus, four slender blades slid from their sheaths. 

Or'do drew a sharp breath, recoiling as the monster advanced, churning the air with a frenzied swarm of blades; four swords that seemed to become a thousand in her swift, dexterous grasp. The air before her seemed a whirlwind of steel; a thunderous tempest that bore steadily upon him even as he retreated. She advanced slowly, either supremely confident, or merely incapable of swifter strides, yet all the same, the formidable reach of her slender swords left him capable of little more than surrendering ground, and analyzing her patterns, seeking a moment however brief when he could strike.

***

"Or'do!" I growled, slamming an iron fist against the earth. He had forgotten it seemed about the clairvoyance the new Flame lent me; or perhaps he merely did not care. The damn fool had challenged one of the Dark's last acolytes without me! I knew well that he meant not to spite nor belittle me, merely to protect me as I wished to protect him; yet all the same, frustration tightened my jaw and drove my fingers into the cracks between plates of stone as I tried without success to rise.

He did not wish to slight you, Ashen One.

"I know." I flailed about, looking to all the world like a morbidly obese fish gasping and flopping upon the shore. "But I cannot let him do this alone."

Why not? 

"Because without me, he will die." As the words crossed my lips, I knew them to be true. The Dark feared us, and while it did covet our place in the light, did indeed with furious envy gaze into the realm they were denied, they dared not challenge us both. Whether fear or respect stayed their hand, neither would protect Or'do. They had descended upon him once, testing him with their weakest, perhaps hoping to instill a deadly confidence in us by the ease with which their soldiers fell. Only stronger beasts lurked beyond that fraying veil, and without me at his side, I knew that they would abide no further delay.

***

The clash of steel on steel came ringing forth as Or'do struck back. His blade became a silvered crescent that smashed against his foe's foremost blade, jarring the Nurse out of her rhythmic stride. All the louder did metal wail as he lunged onward, his sword scouring flecks of metal and radiant sparks from hers. He whipped his blade up and to the left, jarring her once more and scoring a light gash upon her bicep, then another equally shallow slash to her calf as he surged past, pivoting on his trailing heel to face her once more.

Ponderous and mute, she advanced upon him in that slow, ominous gait, her four blades lashing out to all sides, driving him back and filling the air with roused wind's indignant howl. Over steel and beneath cloak, the displaced air crept, shivering her dark robes and accentuating her silent stillness. As if stone she had become, she stood like a monument carved in testament to days long past, her hidden eyes perhaps closed, or perhaps watching intently, eager to discern his next move.

Then, the darkness deepened and congealed, clinging to her emaciated arms, her broad all obscuring cloak, and pressing its immaterial hands tightly against Or'do's eyes. He jolted and cast about, yet she had vanished, lost among the unnatural night, vanished like a stone swallowed by benighted sea. Fled she had not, nor had she any intent to surrender: a blade raked across his side, throwing him back and igniting the darkness with the scarlet gleam of blood on steel. Again she struck, her weapon crashing into his arm where it met his shoulder, hurling him to his knees where he had not time to finish his pained exhale before all four blades were carving an X across his chest; the first pair scoring his armour, the second biting deep into his flesh. As he tipped backward into the lightless depths, a single, attenuated cry was torn from his crushed lungs, then the gregarious Or'do fell silent and motionless as the stones upon which he lay.

Or'do cried out, and something inside me cracked.

Or'do  gasped, and the rift deepened,

Or'do fell, and something inside me shattered.

Or'do fell, yet it was I who was torn asunder.

***

I slammed a fist against the earth again, watching through eyes that were not mine, as Or'do fell beneath the onslaught, crumpled and lay still upon the stones. Fury wrung a hoarse cry from my torn throat, and anger turned my cold veins to rivers of flame. On hands and knees I strained, yet again my legs defied me, fell limp and slack as my bloodied cloak, and folded beneath me.

"Damn it all!" My bloodied fist crashed against the stones, spraying my face with beads of darkness and flecks of sundered stone. I reached inward, probing with mental fingers toward the fading Cinder, yet something gave me pause. As if poised over the hilt of a familiar blade, my hand lingered over the fringe where Flame and Dark warred inside me, the tempestuous rift where mighty forces clashed.

Do not try it, Ashen One. The Keeper spoke in quick, urgent tones, certain as a mother watching her child stick its hand into the flame, that I was going to do something I would regret.

"Too late." I murmured, adjusting my crimson spectacles. "The Cinder fades, its power failing and spent warding off the Dark inside me." I reached closer, feeling the electric jolt as surely upon the imagined fingers of my mind, as in every nerve throughout my battered body. "If I am to save Or'do, the Cinder will not help me."

Neither will the Dark! I felt her desperate hands upon my shoulders, her timeless eyes peering into my own.

"Not willingly." I admitted. "Yet as a lodestone repels iron, so too does the Dark despise the Flame."

And you are the Flame's bearer! How kindly will it look upon you?

"As kindly as I upon it."  Those probing fingers brushed against the molten seam, sending a rush of power through my haggard frame. "Yet I seek not to harness the Dark." I pressed harder, my flesh beginning to smoulder as once again light glowed among those ridges of ash. "Nor serve the Light." Keenly, I felt that strange lightning curl around my hand, eager to flood through my veins. "But to stride the narrow line between, and wield both as my ally!"

In the darkness blazed an oval of flame, a gate through whose molten centre I strode. I looked upon my fallen comrade, and clenched my fists at my sides, lightning crackling between my fingers, flame seething around my feet as if I stood upon a font of ignited oil. Blackness to surrounded me, edging the corona of rippling fire in a sheath of shadow whose hem unfurled as I advanced, probing with fingerless hands that were strong and keen as any blade.

"Aleorn!" Or'do climbed to his knees, then gasping, collapsed. "Damn!" He whispered.

"Rest now, Or'do." I turned toward the wet nurse, and without hesitation, without preamble, I lunged. My fist rose parallel with my gritted teeth, black lightning braiding with crimson flame and streaking out behind me. She looked up, her deep cowl hiding her features, yet her sudden shift in stance, her blades orienting upon me, belied her surprise, revealed her fear.

My eyes burned the colour of blazing oil, my body writhed with serpents of dark and light, and as my fist smashed against her guarding blade, it flared with that same mixture, that same marriage of Dark and Flame. The two ages, the two halves of the cycle had become one within me, and their strength, honed to a razor edge by the whetstone of fury, many times tempered in the cold waters of my sorrow, drove my fist through her sword. Splinters of metal gleaming like slashes of mercury in the dark night, sprayed her face moments before my fist crashed home. She dropped her swords, raising emaciated fingers to claw at her now flaming cloak. I twisted past, the immaterial cloak of blackness that clung to me reaching out, stiffening into a crescent scythe in my wake, burning through her body as if it to were mere shadow. In two, she fell to the ground, and thereupon writhed as she was devoured.

"Come." I extended a hand to Or'do. "We've one last foe yet to slay."

He rose unsteadily, accepting the proffered hand. "How?"

"My power comes at great cost." I gestured with fingers that trailed ribbons of ash. Still I died, and my life shortened with each flare of the clashing forces within me. "Look not with envy upon my discovery, for pity is more fitting."

He shook his head. "There is no pity for you, Aleorn. You've attained heights no Ashen One could hope to reach; you are truly the heir to this world and all others, you will break the cycle, my friend." A moment he paused, gathering the will to press on. "And it is an honor to fight at your side."

"Oh come now! None of that!" I waved a hand before me, embarrassed by his reverence. "You showed me the way, Or'do, I merely strode it." Weakness surged through me, and my legs surrendered beneath me, depositing my limp frame in his arms once more.

"Come along, my frail maiden." He grinned. "We've a world to rule."

I returned to this realm's version of the Shrine, alone since it would not tolerate Or'do's presence. As the darkness faded, my eyes widened in shock: the two story dwelling, the pillars that reached for the heavens like supplicant hands frozen in stone, all were bathed in flame. Blighted tongues seethed over the lands, burning without consuming, gnawing without devouring. The doll looked upon me, through me, beyond me, to the blemished iron fence that spanned this place. Its gate yawned open, and within its metal maw loomed the seated figure of a man slumped in his wheelchair.

Looking upon him, I stiffened, his Darkness equivalent to staring into the Sun. Like a Cinder that flared with shadow in light's stead, he glowed with emptiness, a bottomless abyss into which I felt drawn. This, was my final foe; and he had lurked here the entire time. The Dark had taken great pleasure in culling itself, creating Hunters to eliminate its weakest, to leave only the mighty towering over their fallen, ruling this forsaken realm from a throne of their fellows' corpses. I glanced down, realizing only now that I had crossed the threshold, and before my feet lay the edge of his wheelchair. Twitching and recoiling in shock, I raised my eyes to his, searching that weathered face, seeing nothing but the Dark's eternal hunger. A thousand thousand of his own kin had he slain, and with their blood grown almighty.

"Bearer of the Darkness." I took a half step back, falling into a fighter's low stance. "You shall not leave this place alive."

"Then why," His voice was thunderous, resonant, the sound of stones falling and sundering upon the ground. "Have you already knelt?"

I felt an incredible weight press down upon me, driving me to my knees before him. He stood, apparently in no need of the wheelchair's service, perhaps employing it in langour or boredom. "Thou hath erred, Ashen One." Slowly, he raised his scythe, its edge shining like silver stained in hardening blood as it pressed against my neck. "Thou hath permitted thy hatred to consume thee. That, is to be expected." He drew back, the scythe hanging ominously above. "Thy weakness and the weakness of thy Flame, is thy undoing. Know this, and be consumed by it."

The scythe descends.
Agony twinning, branching through my neck in tendrils of fire.
My vision turns black.

"No!" Or'do scrambled forward, a point above his heart glowing faintly. He watched with eyes not his own as Aleorn knelt, as that ragged scythe's wicked, silver edge was pressed against his pale neck, and brought to bear with devastating force.

"Damn it, help him!" He addressed only the Keeper, yet her voice was not his to hear, and the only attention he drew was the caress of blighted warmth emanating from the foul inferno that clung to this realm's twisted, ruinous Shrine. The Doll, either mute or merely apathetic, spared him not even a glance, not a raise of her head as she slumped amid the flames, neither suffering their touch nor repelling them. "Help him." Or'do whispered, watching helpless as the scythe came swinging down. He slammed an iron palm against that molten patch above his heart. "Save him!" His fingers dug into the leather of his cloak, crunched through the flesh beneath.

He flared the Cinder, pouring all his strength into it, kindling inside himself, the blaze that would devour all darkness. The planes stretched near, and between them a rift blazed into being; an oval of blinding light that connecting realms of bleak darkness.The Flame heard his wish, yet at the last moment spurned him: he came surging through the portal in time only to catch Aleorn's body as it fell, the cold lifeless impact tipping both back into the void. He had failed, his greed, his lust for power had spurned the Flame, and now, when he needed it most, the Flame turned its back on him. The portal vanished with both still inside, ripping Aleorn from his arms, casting both across the planes.

Glacial fire swelled in his heart, stole his warmth, stole his mind, as Or'do looked upon the drifting corpse, watched helpless as it faded into the darkness, spat out upon some other plane like a distasteful morsel. He felt an incredible hate burning through him, a terrible inferno that swept through him like rivers of molten steel. It was at this moment, he turned his back on the Flame forevermore; it was here and now, that his path would forever change, it was here and now when the cruel Fate smiled, his foul plan set in motion that nothing would ever halt.

Or'do knelt at Aleorn's side, tears burning like drops of acid along his cheek, a cold fire roiling in his weary, battered heart. His chest still glowed faintly, the Cinder still aflame, if apathetic. Perhaps it took a vile pleasure in his sorrow, or perhaps it truly did care for him. The latter seemed unlikely, at least in the sorrow shrouded eyes of Or'do.

"What now?" He meant to scream this, yet found he hadn't the breath. It was as if his lungs had turned to stone, his heart to ice. Or'do roared in fury, slamming an iron fist into the ground next to his comrade, tears tracing rivers of glass along his angular features. Again, again again again! His knuckles crunched against the stone, his blood pooling with that of his comrade. With eyes that burned in almighty hate, he followed that dark pool to Aleorn's neck, realizing that he had in fact spared him the worst of the scythe's touch, its edge merely severing the left half, skittering across bone rather than shearing through it. It mattered not.

"My greed has struck you down." He slowly raised battered, bleeding fingers to his breast where the Cinder slept. "I never should have left you." Like blades of steel those cold fingers burrowed into his flesh. "You spent your strength saving me, and left none for yourself." Warmth pulsed against his fingertips, the Cinder roused from its slumber and flaring now in response to his undying, indomitable will.

Aleorn and Or'do sit at the side of a bonfire, lifting flagons to the heavens, smiling in a rare moment of true, untainted mirth.

 "You are my only friend in this cruel, cold, broken world." He grasped the Cinder in hands of iron, clenched tight with fingers like serpents of steel.

"Yeah!" Or'do pumped a fist in the air, standing astride the fallen form of Aldrich. Aleorn laughs, his lips tugged upward by a smile they had not known before Or'do, and would never again know since.

"Please, come back to me!" His blood spurted across the stones, its dark geyser painting his fingers, splattering the orb of light clasped between.

Darkness on the edges of his vision, devouring his sight, devouring his mind. Or'do collapsed atop his fallen comrade, the Cinder dropping from his grasp and settling upon Aleorn's breast, where it flared and blazed, an inferno that only all the brighter grew as tendrils of flesh rose to embrace it, to bear it into the darkness where its twin waited. Like all the hells man dared imagine, a blinding flare surged from Aleorn's chest, blades of light spearing toward the heavens, boneless limbs thrashing and convulsing in their primordial glee. Then, the light faded to black, and Aleorn took a sharp breath, his eyes snapping open. Aleorn gasped, rising halfway only to collapse back onto the stones.

"I died again didn't I."

"Gotta stop doing that." Or'do managed, pressing a hand against his chest, which now had healed, closing in mere seconds.

Aleorn stared at his hands, as if surprised to see them so smugly adorning his wrists. Flame curled around his fingers, then turned to wisps of vapor. "By the Gods, Or'do! You sacrificed your Cinder!" He closed his hands into fists, flame gushing like liquid iron between his fingers, spilling out as if he had scooped sand into his palm, its grains draining through the gaps between his knuckles. "What were you thinking?!"

"That it was my fault you fell." Or'do said calmly. "That I damned you once more."

"Once more?! You never damned me in the first place! I cannot-" Aleorn's voice broke. "I cannot understand why you would do this."

"Because you are more valuable than the flame."

"I do not deserve this."

"What would you do if I fell? If you knew that I was too weak, too unsteady to challenge even the frailest of the darkspawn, yet said nothing?" Now it was Or'do whose voice fractured. "What if it was I that you let perish?"

Aleorn sighed. "I'd stop at nothing to get you back."

Or'do clapped Aleorn's shoulder, a smile on his angular face. "Fret not, Aleorn. I gathered the Cinder once, I shall do it again."

Aleorn returned the smile, yet it was cold, hollow with sadness. "I'll never repay this debt."

"And I'll never collect on it." Or'do rose, extending a hand. "While you were challenging the Ancient Spawn, I discovered a chalice, the key to the labyrinth where the powerful dregs of shadow lay. Help me slay them all, Aleorn."

"Of course." Accepting the proffered hand, Aleorn rose. "It is our purpose is it not?"

Or'do had returned to his plane, yet I had no longer mine. This realm was not my own, rather it seemed that whatever Hunter once called this place home had already fallen. Forsaken Castle Cainhurst, that was where his unmarked grave lay; this was all I could glean from the Doll before she fell silent.

I turned to the row of parallel headstones that traced the hill's arch to my left; leading toward an empty doorway carved in the two story dwelling. Each embraced a stone tablet which was outlined in softly glowing candles; wicks seething with the blighted flame of this foul realm. I knelt before the nearest, setting the only chalice I had yet uncovered upon it.

"The Darkness has stolen everything from me." I murmured. "Purpose, joy, comrades." Anger flared in my heart, and the Cinder glowed in sympathy, burning like a pool of liquid iron beneath my skin. "Now, I will return the favor." The chalice blazed with darkness, a halo of shadow encircling my kneeling form. "Once, I erred and it cost my friend his Cinder. Trust that I shall never underestimate you again."

From his vantage beyond the fence of corroding iron, Gehrman  inclined his head. "As you will." He murmured. "As thou directs thy exultant gaze toward that triumphant future, I shall patiently await thy inexorable downfall."

Black lightning blazed in the murky torchlight, dark fire that rolled and seethed like tempestuous waters beneath bleak, lightless night. I burst from the stones, my eyes burning like twin pools of oil, my sclera dark as pitch, my pupils twin stars shining from my skull. I fell on hands and knees, a cloud of vapor leaking from my open mouth.

"Quite the entrance." Or'do  smiled, gesturing across the way to a portcullis braceted by two statues whose lanterns shone lavender, whose features seemed mocking, whose posture seemed contemptuous. "Therein lies the first of the Ancient Darkbeasts."

I nodded, rising slowly, calmly. "Then let us face him."

"Sure, the lever should be somewh-" Or'do trailed off as I surged past, one arm rising crooked and parallel to my chest, the other trailing behind me, fists clenched and leaking tendrils of flame. I slammed an iron forearm against the portcullis, spraying its sundered remains into the corridor beyond. Slinging the whirligig saw from his back, Or'do came charging after me as I careened into and passed through the solid bronze door that marked the Ancient's chambers.

Or'do kneeling at my side, tears burning in his eyes. I roared, blind fury driving my fist into the monster's face before I even recognized it: a mixture of wolf and man that stood upon hind legs, its abdomen left bare along the midline, covered in coarse fur toward the sides. It staggered back, conjuring orbs of fire in its hands, but then Or'do was there, the whirligig saw grinding against the monster's thighs, shredding its muscles and hurling it to its knees.

Or'do carrying me, his eyes cold as stone, his heart heavy as lead. I slammed an iron fist into the monster's chin, spraying its teeth through the air in a fan of shattered ivory.

Gehrman's scythe against my neck, Or'do catching me as I fall. My fist punched through its skull, passing through its chin and exploding from the crest of its scalp in a geyser of black and scarlet. It fell, then burst apart in a flare of pure, cleansing light.

We had descended deep into the foul womb of Darkness, yet despite the leagues we had painted in tones of black and crimson, my rage had not faded. Flame rolled along my forearms, pooling like coiled vipers perched atop my palms, captured in the cages of my trembling fists. Within, I felt the Dark and Flame clash, a thrumming like ten heartbeats slamming against my ribs, and with each step I drew upon it all the more. The hand of my mind had closed over the fringe between unstoppable forces, and their strength had become mine. Ash drifted from my shoulders, trailed like a nebulous cloak behind me, yet I felt pain no longer.

Gehrman laughing cruelly, his scythe biting into my neck. A flare of warmth that courses through my flesh, turning skin to iron, repelling his weapon moments before it grinds against my bones. 

My fists clenched tighter, leaking tendrils of flame like rivers of sand flowing between closing fingers.

Or'do weeping as he holds me, his weary heart cracking as we drift in the void.

I gritted my teeth, restraining a howl of fury that clawed at my chest, climbing with the desperation of a drowning man toward my lips.

The Keeper shivering, fading as my heart slows.

My hand passed through another door, shattering it like a pane of glass. Anger turned the inferno of pain that swelled along my arm into a tidal wave of something like ecstasy, yet several shades darker. The more agony I felt, the more powerful I became.
Gehrman would not survive this time.
And neither, would I.

He is going to burn himself to ash. Or'do looked on in trepidation as his comrade surged forth, gasping and stooped yet not slowing. They had descended two layers deeper into the shadows, and now stood before the Bloodletting Beast's lair, having smashed the portcullis rather than wasting time searching for its lever.

Or'do strode forward, placing a restraining hand on Aleorn's shoulder. "Rest a moment, Aleorn. You do not need to do this alone."

"I have you do I not?" Aleorn turned, confused.

"Not when you strike with such frenzy and madness. I may stand with you in this world, yet I can do nothing when you've abandoned me in favour of the realm inside your skull." He smiled, a shallow expression that was cold with sadness. "I know how you feel, Aleorn. You must think that my sacrifice was your fault. I too was haunted by the bitterness, pursued by demons of my own making. When I said that I forgave you, my words were neither false nor tainted by anger. I sacrificed my Cinder because I wished to, not because you demanded it."

"I did demand it." Aleorn refused to meet his comrade's eyes. "In my foolishness, my refusal to listen, I was struck down; that was as much a scream for you as my throat could ever produce."

"Aleorn-"

"No, I did not demand it of you, but that does not exonerate me."

"Neither does getting yourself killed again." Or'do spoke gently, yet his words stung all the same.

"What would you have me do?" Aleorn's voice shook, and he seemed on the verge of self pitying tears. "What would you have me do?!"

"Be again the man I remember. The powerful warrior who has a thousand times saved me. The one who showed me such kindness. The one who showed me that life does not need to be so empty and barren, that our purpose is what we define it to be."

"And if I can't?"

"Then I'll just have to find him." Or'do smiled warmly, his eyes shining with the cleansing flame he had sacrificed. "No matter what it takes."

I stood back, watching as Or'do passed through the gate of fog. Before him the Bloodletting Beast loomed, its immense bulk held aloft by two long, canine legs, and two disturbingly human arms. Its terrible visage was an unholy marriage of wolf and man, a human face with teeth like yellowed stalactites. With steps like thunder it advanced, a horrid grin upon its ruined features, wind from its movement rippling through its patchwork coat of coarse hair.

Or'do stood his ground, staring defiantly toward it as he slowly descended into a low, spearman's stance. He clasped his hands before him, then slowly drew them apart, black mist swirling and thrashing between his palm,s hardening into a shaft of shadow around which his steel fingers closed. When he looked into its eyes, it was the beast not he that knew sudden, primal fear. His sclera were black as starless night, his pupils radiant silver, and both burned with hateful fury. He had not given himself to the Dark, he had consumed it. I smiled now, understanding why he had not chastised me. I had given him the reason he needed to pursue greater heights of power as he longed to do.

"Strike hard and fast, Or'do." I thrust a fist into the air. "Let us end this!"

He grinned, and lunged. The monster raised a foul, taloned hand to ward him off, yet his spear pierced the center of its palm, and with a flash as dark as the sun was bright, one spear became a thousand, and the thousand shafts sprang out like arrows cascading from towering summit, their points grinding into the domed ceiling as they passed through the monster, turning its body to little more than scraps of meat hung upon their lengths.

Steam hissed from Or'do's jaws, and I knew the battle he must face inside, the madness that was clawing at his skull, pleading for release. Yet he denied it. His eyes became again those calm pools of blue on white, and the halo of shadow fled his body. Or'do was unstoppable, untouchable, the heir of Darkness just as I was the heir of flame. Together, we rivaled the might of hurricanes. Apart, we would devour ourselves. If that was the price of freedom, of an end to the cycle, so be it.

He was not afraid, and neither was I.