ATLANTION - LAYLA BOOK1

Part 69 Farrar

Farrar had seen the dark masters who tapped into death and life. One wrong step and this power would drain his soul and humanity. Would it be so bad? He asked himself and sighed. His sharp teeth bit into his lip, and blood poured over his chin. He laughed, his white teeth stained with red and orange.

The blacksmith chanted, his velvety voice flowing like a dark river until the sound that came out of his chest and mouth was more like an echo of the underworld than a human voice. A chant he learned in the dark temple under the Dark Guild, a place where soulless and shadows danced hand in hand.

Farrar knew the chant well because he was born and raised in the Dark Guild. Memories were so strange and far away, hidden in a dirty corner of his mind that sometimes he thought they were just a dream or figment of imagination. And when he finished his chant, more blood seeped out of his bloody red eyes.

The dungeon around him started to get animated. The squealing of small creatures huddled in the crevices and dark corners filled the air, along with red beads of liquid that floated in the air like liquid metal. The metallic smell filled the air, and the iron chains around his arms fell with a vicious clang against the bare rocks.

Farrar stood tall, listening to the soft footsteps that approached him, ready to test his rage on the guard who walked casually towards his cell. The crimson beads melted together, forming a dozen hands that glided along the metallic door, probing every single crack, every single weakness until they ripped into the metal door like a can opener. The metal screeched, and his voice rumbled so low, the metal around him was crying.

"What the hell?" whispered the man behind the door.

The guard opened his mouth and tried to scream, but a flood of red blood pushed him against the wall, knocking him out.

Farrar tapped into the man's mind, seeking the best route to get out of this filthy place. He ran along the cold, barren corridors and wondered if he was too late.

It took him a while to reach the surface, following the sound of the stampeding guests. To his surprise, they did not walk towards the grand temple of Atlantion but ran away from it, some screaming. "Demon, demon... He is going to kill us all..."

The words were not addressed to him, but still, they bothered him somehow. Farrar cleaned the blood from his face as best he could, and absorbed it into his pores, it filled him with the energy and power he craved so much. The hoard of panicked guests ran like rats from a boat, and more screams erupted when they started to see the splashes of blood that covered their pristine outfits as they flopped into the blood pool that followed him from the open dungeon doors.

"If this is a sin to feel so free, then shall I be a sinner?" thought Farrar and stepped forward.

It was a madness he somehow enjoyed, and it made him wonder if his mind was more twisted than he thought it was. He hoped the dark wizard thing was not going to take over him before he would save Layla.

Would she even want to be saved by one like him? Would she touch his filthy flesh after learning who he was?

He entered the grand temple of Atlantion and watched with incredulous eyes the crystal tree burning. No, it did not burn, it was just filled with bubbling lava.

It was far more impressive than when it was filled with glowing blue water, peaceful and cold.

A vein pulsated in his temple when he spotted Layla in a circle of fire with Torture. He was somehow different, taller, stronger. He emanated an incredible power. A power he never felt before.

He was the one that lit the tree up. Farrar gritted his teeth. So he was an offspring of the Mad Fire King. Who would have guessed one of them survived after the witch hunt Nimiane worked for all these years?

And there, in front of the fire circle, stood the Dark Duke, his petty glamour wearing out and...

And the Fire King himself. Farrar could not believe his eyes. The immortal fire elemental stood there right in front of them. A shadow of a legend walking between the living.

The metal around him melted, and the Dark Duke scurried away from him.

A dark shadow hung above him, dark chains protruded from his chest, and black smoking snakes twisted around his arms and body.

He was cursed, bound by a force so dark Farrar could not even fathom.

So the Fire King was alive, but barely a shadow of his former self, sucked dry by the curse enveloping him. Thought Farrar watching the incredible sight in front of him.

The curse had drained the elemental of his power and vitality, leaving him a mere shadow of his former self. The oppressive force surrounding him was so dark and malevolent that Farrar shuddered just being near it.

"May this place collapse over your filthy souls." Katon sneered at them before disappearing through a dark portal that appeared beneath his feet. The ground shook as he vanished, leaving a burnt patch where he had been standing.

Farrar gaped at the burned floor. The stone was smoldering with heat and radiating it to the floor around him, making him step cautiously on the hot, cracking stone.

Layla's eyes meet his and it warmed him inside to see her smile in relief.

At that moment he could see hope blossoming on her face and he sighed wondering if the beast near her might harm her.

"Let me go. I do not pose any threat to your power. I do not need this cursed city or prince's crown."

Layla took the crystal crown from her hair and threw it at Torrture's feet. The glass shattered into a million sparkling pieces that now crunched under his boots and they both held their breath.

The madman narrowed his eyes, and his powerful fist clenched at his sides, he looked at Farrar and smiled. At that moment Farrar wondered if the bastard would arm her just to make him suffer watching it.

Torture walked slowly towards Layla, and Farrar assessed nervously the ring of fire that torched the White Queen.

The ring was not even made of fire; it was pure energy that would torch even a fire elemental, so that's why the Fire King stood outside it. It protected the tree for generations, so nobody other than the true king or queen could take hold of it. The irony of fate was that the Fire King himself stood helpless outside of it.

"Let her go. You have nothing to gain from killing her," said Farrar looking at Torture with his jaw clenched.

"Kill her? What made you think I would kill her? I just married her. How could I kill her if we did not enjoy our marriage yet?"

Farrar's stomach churned at the implication, and he could see Layla's expression shift from fear to disgust.