The Faithful Enemy

Bastar didn't rest long, too antsy and uncomfortable. He walked down a staircase back into the main antechamber wearing a black and silver, knee-length cloak with a large hood. Taking a moment, he observed Briél and Escaylin talking in hand signs on a couch.

It hurt him to even look at the younger girl; she unintentionally exuded such a powerful Light. Her curved yet somewhat flat-nosed face, large ears, and scales denoted she was likely a shie and agoni hybrid. Then there were her eyes, piercing and eerily white. They had definition, but it was still a dead marker she was a Lucifer. Briél had long learned to hide this, but not for her safety's sake.

Escaylin sensed his gaze, and the moment she looked his way, he had already turned his eyes towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

He glanced at Briél, who stood from her fellow Lucifer to approach him.

He faced her, putting his hands in his pockets. "Gotta go straighten out what's goin' on in Meméria." He jutted a finger towards the door. "I'll be quick; teleport there and back."

She frowned. "Is it so important to go there?"

"Yeah." His expression slightly fell. "The Memérine are our allies. If something is wrong, not only do I need to know in Atr'Belvon's stead, but it's a matter of allegiance."

Her shoulders lowered, but she nodded. "And it has to be you?"

Briefly, he looked at Khante, who stood as he watched them from the other side of the room. "Yeah...unfortunately." He twirled a long black lock, then gathered it to tie it into a long tail. To Khante, he said, "You're her guardian until I return. Don't disappoint me."

The young knight stood at attention and gave a solemn nod. "Understood, Bastar'Qal."

Lightening up, Bastar smirked. "See ya."

He teleported from Dorlant, through the one-way barrier protecting the village, and flew over the land by pulling on the dimension of the Vesper Realm. His body slightly smarted from passing through the barrier, but he dealt with it. Once out of it, however, he felt considerably better. It was like inhaling cleaner air, though it was nowhere near as clear as air suffused with Darkness.

His upper lip twitched at the reminder, and he licked his lips, yearning deep within himself for more of that bliss.

Mood officially spoiled, he exhaled heatedly through his nose and went faster. He could just see the city over the horizon.

"Thoughts getting to you, mien?"

Scoffing at the familiar voice, he glanced to his left to see the telltale, tall black figure of Alucsen. He merely hovered over the ground, keeping up with Bastar's pace with uncanny ease. "Well, damn. It's been, what, a month since I last saw you?" Bastar looked forward. The city was fully visible. "I thought you'd finally gone away."

"I'm hurt."

"Whatever, old man."

He landed on the grass to walk the rest of the way into the cityscape. Slipping his hands back into his pockets, he paused to look around and scout with his antennae, invisible tendrils of Darkness that emerged from his body. Other than Alucsen, he didn't sense anyone near. Behind him, the hamlet Dorlant was impossible to see over the horizon. Turning forward, he began the moderately short walk.

It was a nice day, all things considered. The star Reon was high in the blue sky, and all seemed well on this side of the aster. Hopefully it would stay that way.

After a short while of silence, Alucsen came to his side. "You're not as well as you seem," he said, his whispery voice sounding almost sly.

Eyes slanted, unamused, Bastar glanced up at his oldest friend. "Naw, really? Thanks for the heads-up."

"You think of your mate."

"Always." He looked forward again. There was no point in denying it, and he sighed, turning his head up to gaze at the sky. "It's...truthfully hard to believe that just some hours ago, we were escaping Alvareon. It's so fresh. Hard to believe it even happened. This place is so peaceful..."

"So it seems."

He nodded, keeping his head focused forward while glancing at Alucsen. Something in his friend's voice was oddly mischievous. Rolling his eyes, he evened his head to look ahead.

"Comes with the duty, bein' a knight and all."

"Yes, it does."

He sighed to himself. Alucsen was a reflection of himself, and it was painfully evident he was trying to cheer himself up despite feeling angry and helpless. It was easy to suppress due to his training, but he regardless held the emotions somewhere in his heart.

When he was close enough, sights of industrialization became clearly visible by the sight of metal poles and reflected light. He teleported from the beginning of the city and atop the nearest pole within the bounds of the cityscape. He looked around, getting a feel of his location.

The height of the buildings in the immediate area, being so close to the feral lands, were considerably smaller than the ones in the central city. Turning to face the direction of said buildings, a wide smirk of excitement formed on his face along with a spark of violet in his eyes.

First, he had to, as Meheade had done, scope out and get a feel of Meméria. Licking his lips at the distant taste of Darkness, he teleported to the ground. He startled a few people, but no one was truly surprised to see him appear. They went back to their business, and so did he. Ensuring his cloak was up, he followed the smell of Darkness. He was sure it would lead him to something or somewhere foul.

His lips slightly curled at the thought.

In truth, Meméria was beautiful. He admired it as he strolled leisurely. The silvery-green metals with decorations etched into them were so different from the city Dajett of Hilikhkzia's surface or the Light-infested underground cities throughout Alvareon. However, with a grimace, he could also feel an abundance of Light that overwhelmed the Darkness.

He teleported high atop an even taller building, arms crossed. The yorne species, native to Memereon, were unfortunately deeply aligned with Light despite their normal disposition—snappy, blunt, dangerous. Much to his dismay, they could be comprised of up to 77% of Light, something no other sapient species had to the knowledge of their system's scholars.

The Darkness he sensed stemmed from the direction where he knew a floating city was located. It was not visible even from his distance as anything more than a miniscule dot in the light sky. It wouldn't have been visible at all if only it wasn't so massive itself. That city, the heart of Meméria called Nanoth, was where he was needed. The quickest and most effective method to get there was by transportation.

He looked up. Above and mingled between buildings, aircrafts and hovercrafts flew in various directions. They seemed to move at random, no true set trajectory. Humming thoughtfully, he considered. Which ones were traveling to Nanoth?

He caught one going into the general direction he wanted and gently teleported under it. He stayed beneath it, defying gravity, and sat down to keep an eye out for vehicles on the same course.

He didn't have to make many jumps to other vehicles. The ride was uneventful, but enjoyable. Yet, the smell of Darkness grew ever stronger, and the sight of Nanoth came ever closer.

It wasn't long before the massive structure of Nanoth was completely visible. His eyes narrowed as he stood underneath another vehicle. From here on out, he would have to be careful, clandestine. That would be easy with his many abilities.

Like several structures in the city of Meméria, Nanoth had slender buildings shaped like pointy towers. Enormous statues nearly as tall as the buildings carved as creatures from yorne and shie lore stood on all four directions of Nanoth. All he knew was that the creatures were sacred to the yorne. They appeared almost insectoid, bearing large, featureless eyes and wide wings.

Glancing below Nanoth, he hummed with aesthetic appreciation at the enormous patch of grassland with just enough trees interspersed within. Rather, it was a patch in comparison to how much of the metal cityscape surrounded it.

Eyes darting around as his ride began to turn past the structure, he spotted a flying creature exit from the eyes of a statue that didn't pour water from its eye. Watching with interest, he considered teleporting to it, but he noticed the creature stayed within a certain radius. A barrier, perhaps, one powerful enough that even an animal would know not to approach. Sure, he could break through or even teleport through the barrier, but where would he land?

Hmm...

He dropped down from the vehicle and onto another heading directly towards the structure. He had an idea what he should expect: A full-body scan of cargo before entry into the city.

Yet, something felt off.

The Darkness had grown stronger, its scent and the coldness of it intensifying as he came closer. His eyes glanced to the vehicle below him. Something was inside it, something considerably unnatural. He closed his eyes, lowering into a crouch. His nostrils twitched, and his antennae searched for anything unusual within the craft. He then made a sound of interest.

There was a being within that was like Khante, a marked one.

Alarming.

It could mean one of two things. Either a Noctifer was somewhere on the aster, likely within Meméria or Nanoth, or the being within the craft had been marked off-world. Either way, it was reason to be even more cautious. The last thing he wanted was to be spotted by an enemy.

He winced at the thought.

Yet, it would also work to his advantage.

Locking onto the marked soul, he seeped into their being his will. He looked through their eyes. The interior of the vehicle was not foreign to him, rather standard. He spoke through the soul, telling the pilot to open the back ramp. Naturally, the pilot was confused, but the order was obeyed. The soul was addressed as "general". Interesting.

He moved his body from the top of the craft and entered through the opening provided by the lowered ramp. He then gave the order for the ramp to be raised through the marked soul.

As it closed, he blended in with the darkness in the corners of the ship, staying low on the ceiling. He then moved along in a crouch to and entered the cargo compartment. There, he remained, looking through the eyes of the soul to make sure they were indeed intending to enter Nanoth. As he thought, they were.

He closed his eyes, remaining partially inside the darkness, partially inside an artery of Darkness. There was no harm in taking precautions.

He stayed clear of the marked soul's memories. He didn't want to be bothered by someone else's life, though he could have wormed his way around in her heart, mind and soul if he wanted to. Sometimes, his abilities as a Noctifer scared him.

The moment the ship paused through security, he sensed him.

Another Noctifer.

Unless he was such a novice at his own abilities as a Noctifer that he didn't know how to hide his presence, it seemed all Noctifers knew when another was near.

Using the marked soul, he glanced out a window to get a sense of where he was. They were passing through Nanoth itself, traveling at a rather fast speed, and traffic wasn't congested in the slightest. The major difference between Nanoth and Meméria was that he knew the many individuals moving about were guards, soldiers and other members of the Meméria military, their families, guests, and royalty. To know there were enough to make up a city was astonishing but not unreasonable with the size of Meméria.

The city resided within a domed structure that Nanoth was comprised of with tall, grandiose open windows. The ceiling itself was open, bringing in the bright light of Reon. He glanced through the soul's eyes. While there were vehicles about, there was also a sizeable gap of empty space from the ceiling to where they flew. Unfortunately, there weren't any shadowy corners.

Regardless, he let his hold on the soul disperse and teleported from the cargo to crouch atop one of the Nanoth windows; they didn't reach the ceiling. Now, he had a clearer view of the city. It was magnificent, colored pinkish orange and constructed with less metals than Meméria. It was magnificent...and Light was everywhere. Despite this, the Darkness was originated from the castle at the far end of the city. He rested for a moment to conjure a plan.

He hoped, of course, to keep his infiltration quiet, but he would use force if there was no other way. Personally, he liked it when it came to the "force" part of his job. He set one of his guns to stun. His sword—well, he vowed to only cut limbs. With a Noctifer near, there was no telling how many other souls were marked. That would complicate things and likely cause a commotion in any case.

Observing the ship he came from, it settled in a courtyard of the city central. He had expected it to go in further, closer to the castle. Watching it, he saw the ramp lower and the bearer of the marker as they exited. She was an adult female kindren, or perhaps a mixed breed. She, of course, acted naturally, as he made sure he would be unaware of his controlling her. She wore the clothes of a general, as the pilot hinted was her status.

He teleported into her shadow. Fortunately, the daylight provided many a shadow for him to latch onto.

She was talking to a yorne, a high-ranking soldier by looking at his uniform. "...soon, yes. Perhaps another few months, if that." She beckoned for the soldier to follow her.

"Yes, general," said the soldier. "What shall we do until tonight?"

"Move our forces out. It will be messy by then."

"As you command." The soldier bowed his head, then returned to a contingent of other soldiers that were nearby.

The general began a leisurely walk towards the castle. Bastar wasn't in the mood to wait, but he considered. This was perhaps the easiest way to make it into the castle without having to harm anyone.

He wasn't there to cause a commotion, anyway.

It took some time in-between stops to talk and observe, but eventually, the general reached the castle. After walking up a series of steps, she entered, passing heavily armed guards. They bowed their heads as she passed, but she didn't acknowledge them.

Her paces increased significantly after she entered. The foyer was a large circular space with several staircases leading to other hallways, Bastar guessed. Darkness was everywhere. It wasn't normal yet was...hiding, in a way. If he wasn't a Noctifer, he probably never would have noticed it.

"Welcome, mien." A figure appeared in the center of the foyer.

Bastar almost gave himself away by speaking, but instead he settled on rolling his eyes with an internal sigh. Alucsen was unusually active today.

The general walked down an upper-left corridor and Alucsen walked nearly in step with her. Bastar huffed to himself. Why couldn't his subconscious be a little more considerate of his concentration or his damn nerves?

Guards were only stationed every many halls, and it was difficult for Bastar to figure out where the general was going. But he remained patient; he would have his answers, eventually.

Finally, the atmosphere made a sudden change and even the general felt it. She placed a hand behind herself to grasp her sword, looking around in a ready stance.

Bastar sensed it and immediately teleported to the high ceiling, but the blast of Dark magic hit her hard, sending her flying to the nearest wall. However, he took immediately notice that barrier erected, preventing her from making contact with the wall.

A muffler, he realized.

He hid in the smallest shadow on the ceiling, watching a young boy walk down the hall where the blast had come from, and he realized the general was suspiciously unconscious. Bastar's eyes, however, widened. The boy was also a marked soul.

The boy approached the general and took her head to break her neck. But not just break it.

He tore her head off almost effortlessly, violently.

Not a moment after, Bastar was looking into murky violet eyes. The boy's hands gathered Dark magic to them, and he went into a familiar pose. Bastar had only seen a certain type of person go into such a stance, two fingers raised on each finger and crossed before them in a near crouch.

A spellcaster. The boy was a fucking master-level spellcaster.

Bastar fell to the ground on his feet, a hand on his non-lethal gun. The boy rushed at him with remarkable speed, and Bastar raised his sword in time to clash with a long dagger imbued with Dark magic. But it wasn't just an ordinary weapon.

It bore the crest of the Memérine, yorne royalty.

Bastar's eyes narrowed. "I really don't want to hurt you, kid. I could get in serious trouble."

The boy's expression didn't change, eyes determined and face scrunched in a frown.

Easily, Bastar kicked the child away before grabbing him in the air and smacking the knife out of his hand, then used his power to prevent the dagger from clattering onto the hard floor. Holding the boy by his tunic, he Bastar pinned him against the wall behind him, just paces away from where the general's body laid. The boy struggled hard, holding onto Bastar's wrists, snapping and growling, kicking futilely.

Again, Bastar didn't bother talking, but he did try to poke at his soul.

Immediately, he slammed back against the opposite wall, making a loud noise that echoed in the hall. With a grimace, he realized the Noctifer that controlled the boy was too powerful for him.

Fuck.

"Kill him."

Lip curling, Bastar turned a malicious gaze on Alucsen. "Thanks for being so helpful. Not that I mind taking someone's life, this kid—"

He dodged in time to evade fire from a guard, then realized the boy had disappeared. He turned in time to see the boy jumped at the guards.

"Master Cy—!"

The first guard went first, obliterated by a Dark attack that caused him to explode. Blood and flesh splattered the walls and floor, and Bastar watched, stupefied as the same attack was repeated on the other guards. This wasn't the boy. This power was whatever Noctifer was controlling him.

Bastar rushed after the boy, ignoring the sound of the alarm blaring in the halls. No doubt at least one of the guards did that. But the more that came, more would be killed.

He caught up to the child easily, and as yet another guard exploded, he grabbed the boy from behind to restrain him. He immediately felt the attempt to cause his own body to explode, but he fended it off with ease that even surprised him. The body in his grasp thrashed with loud, juvenile growls, but he threw the boy into another dimension and went after him.

The second he entered, he missed an assault, dodging away. His young adversary was relentless, almost feral, and had procured another dagger. Teleporting in front of him, Bastar once more held him up.

"Kill him."

Bastar's face twisted. Was that what he wanted to do? Kill the boy? It was true; he didn't have the power to dispel whatever Dark being influenced the child, and the poor thing would likely continue until he lost all stamina or—

His eyes widened, and he nearly let the boy go as the wild violet eyes began to cry blood. It took him a moment, but Bastar realized the power controlling the boy was either too great or the puppet master was forcibly hurting the small body.

"Kill him, Bastar." Alucsen came to his side. "Spare him this torture."

And Bastar wanted to. This situation was so foreign to him.

What was he supposed to do with this?

"It will be easy and swift," Alucsen continued.

At the almost pleading tone, Bastar's eyes narrowed. In the same moment after, he caught the arm that began to swing at him with the dagger, breaking the boy's wrist. A pained scream rang in his ears as the dagger fell, and he winced. He had to try again.

He once more poked at the boy's soul.

And once more, he was sent flying across the dimension, this time in pain. He went into a crouch, looked up, and grabbed the boy by his neck as he was lunged at again.

In a single motion, he slammed the boy down head-first.

And he heard the horrible crack.

The boy went perfectly limp.

Immediately, Bastar was on his feet and jumping back. He stared at the small body as if expecting it to jump up and lunge for him again.

But the body remained deathly still.

Exhaling deeply, Bastar lowered his head.

Pulling them out of the dimension, they appeared in the same hall. It wasn't yet occupied by living bodies; the time in the pocket dimension was different than in the real world.

"It had to be done."

He twitched at Alucsen's words, looking at the young prince's body.

Was that so?

He lowered to close the boy's eyes. He stared for a moment, then stood and left the hall.

Reappearing on the ceiling of a different corridor, he watched the guards race to the hall he just left. He observed from a miniscule shadow feeling...surprisingly fine, considering what he did. He looked at his hands.

Maybe he was too nonchalant.

Killing always did come naturally.

A soft, almost sighing sound escaped him, and he lowered his hands. There wasn't time to focus on that. Sad as it was that a child of the Memérine was killed, what did this mean for the king and queen?

He moved from his hiding spot, traveling stealthily along the high ceiling. A pungent, terrible odor that was jarringly familiar caught in his nose, and he scowled. Well, that may answer his question, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

The smell led him to the throne room, where it became horribly stronger.

Entering, he went still and lowered his head, his eyes briefly closing.

Bodies were scattered around the room, old and decaying. Flies swarmed and maggots fed on the dead flesh. He spotted high-level soldiers, the Memereon equivalents to knights, and, still sitting on their thrones were the dead bodies of the aster ruler, Xenodia, and his queen, Kurané. They had bled from their ears, mouths, nose, and probably their other orifices, if the old pools of blood around them indicating anything.

He abruptly jumped from the wall and skid on the floor to dodge a blast of Darkness. The spot he had been was singed by the attack, spreading along the ceiling like a virus. He never saw an attack like that before.

Spinning around and putting a hand on his sword, he faced the throne. Standing before it and facing him was another Noctifer. He was a yorne, but he bore glowing violet eyes.

"So," Bastar sighed while standing from his crouch, "you either used a spell on the inhabitants so they didn't notice, or you simply put up an elaborate illusion."

"A smart one," said the Noctifer, giving a small clap.

"Please, anyone could have figured that out."

Bastar glanced back at yet another Noctifer. This was the same man he had trapped in the pocket dimension.

Mildly impressed he escaped, Bastar focused on a more important matter. He looked between his adversaries. "I take it you found us."

"Yes, but no." The second Noctifer shrugged. "We've been using this place for a while now, if you must know."

"A few weeks."

"That is correct."

"I suppose I should ask you why you did this."

The first Noctifer slanted their eyes with a menacing, shrewd smirk. "Oh, you'll find out firsthand..." His glance turned into the direction of Alucsen's dark figure. "Ah. We wondered where you were."

The world came to a standstill as Bastar watched, for the first time in his forty-nine years, someone else interact with his oldest friend.

He shook his head, taking a step back. "What? What? You can...see him?"

The second Noctifer laughed at him. "You weren't lying, old one! This one really thought you were imaginary!"

Glaring back at him, then turning the glare onto Alucsen, Bastar lowered his hand from his sword. "Alucsen! What the fuck's going on?"

The first Noctifer stepped down the dais, keeping the enigmatic smile on his face, and Alucsen took his place in front of the thrones.

Turning to face them, Alucsen calmly looked down at Bastar with his pitch-black eyes. "You've surpassed all my expectations, mien. All these years, and you never dismissed what you are. I am proud of you."

Unwanted, vile emotions grew within Bastar's very soul. He shook his head again, unable to believe what he was realizing.

He had been deceived.

His eyes darted to the second Noctifer who appeared beside the first some paces in front of Alucsen. They were watching him with equal, mocking smirks on his face.

Clenching his jaw, Bastar's body began to tremble against his will.

Scenes played before his eyes. He played with Alucsen. He smiled, laughed with him, believed with every iota of his being that this man was a part of his mind, his being, an eternal friend at his side. Even as he grew older and stopped believing in the idea of an imaginary friend, Alucsen was still there.

"You...All these decades, you've been whispering in my ear." He slowly raised his head to meet Alucsen's eyes. A wild, boiling anger rose within him. "You're a Noctifer."

"Naturally. I never lied to you, in that regard." Alucsen placed a hand over his chest and bowed his head. "We are kindred."

"I'm nothing like you," Bastar growled, taking a step forward. Darkness began to emit from his body as he lost his composure.

Painfully calm, Alucsen lowered his hand. "And yet, killing the child didn't bother you. I am aware of the reason why that is so, dear mien."

"Don't you fucking call me—"

"You didn't know the child, had no emotional ties to him."

Bastar shut his mouth with an audible snap. He closed his eyes, then looked towards the floor. Silence followed Alucsen's words, and after a moment, he softly chuckled without a shred of humor.

He raised his head, his body relaxing. Once more, he met Alucsen's eyes. "What do you want from me?"

Alucsen began a steady descent down the dais. "I want you, Bastar Traig, to keep your word to me."

Bastar narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Word...?"

Slowly, a memory surfaced to the front of his mind. It was a horrible memory in its context; it was the first time he ever became intoxicated.

Darkness gathered in the room, causing the lights to flicker. Breathing deeply, his eyes glowed violet. "Not in your fucking life."

"Why, Bastar." Alucsen appeared surprised. "You always keep your word."

The man's faux emotion only added to Bastar's anger. "I was fucking drunk!" he all but shouted. He shut his eyes at the memory, shaking his head. "I was twelve, only a fucking child! You took advantage of me! I thought I swore to myself, not an actual fucking being!"

The words hadn't even passed through the air when Alucsen appeared in front of him. His head snapped up in shock, eyes wide.

The dark gaze was unyielding. "Your word, Bastar. It was all you ever had."

Taken aback, Bastar's expression briefly flickered to one of hurt. A feral growl grew in his throat, and both his vision and eyes turned violet.

In the second it took for him to grasp his sword and begin conjuring a pocket dimension, it shattered. He cried out, moving both hands to clench his chest as it physically hurt him.

His body bent back, choking as Darkness assaulted him.

Lips parting, his eyes rolled into his head, and his mind went blank with immeasurable ecstasy. Body tingling, endorphins pumped through his system, and he began to drool.

Quaking, he gasped and moaned at the power that pulsed through his being.

Such power.

Such pleasure.

He wanted—needed more.

Abruptly, he was released of the assault. Choking, he fell back, delirious and overcome. The world was hazy, waning in and out, and the light—it hurt.

"Ah, looks like you overdid it."

"Perhaps."

He felt deeply intoxicated, and his vision finally began to dim rapidly. "Alucsen..."

"Rest, mien. I trust you."

He went still as everything disappeared, plummeting him into blissful darkness.