The Chronicles of Onyx: Book 2

Chapter Eleven

"Onyx!" Rok cried out his voice strained with concern. He pushed himself up, ignoring the protests of his aching body. Rok's eyes fixated on Onyx, her form standing tall despite the arrow piercing through her side. His heart pounded at the sight of her wounded, bleeding form.

He stumbled forward through the remnants of the once-devouring fire, his boots crunching on the scorched snow. The acrid smell of smoke lingered in the air, burning his eyes, choking his lungs. Still his protective gaze never left Onyx.

"Onyx!" Rok cried out again, voice cracked with urgency as he reached her side. He could see the pain etched across her face, her hand pressed against the wound, trying to contain the bleeding. "I need to get you out of here."

Onyx's gaze met his, a mixture of pain and resilience reflected in her golden eyes. "No, Sith is still out there" She paused briefly, seemingly fighting a grimace in pain, "And I can still fight," she insisted, but the strain in her voice only proved to Rok, the toll the injury was taking on her.

"No Onyx, I will" came another voice that was not Onyx's nor Rok's. Dezenym stepped through the lingering smoke, his golden eyes smoldering with an otherworldly intensity. "Rok, take her back to what's left, and keep a good eye on her" he ordered with a spiteful tone, one Rok didn't recognize as Dezenym's usual polite tone.

With a nod he put his arms caringly behind Onyx and plucked her up off the frozen ground, carrying her back to one of the few, standing buildings, that had survived the fire.

-ooooo-

With determined strides, Dezenym approached Sith, his intense glare cutting through the air with simmering anger. Rage consumed him, propelling him forward. However, it wasn't Sith that fueled his hate, nor was it Onyx. It was, however, reflected at himself, by his own guilt for what he had allowed Onyx to become.

Before long he found himself standing in the way of this 'Sith' fellow. By first glance he seemed to be nothing more than a thieving pirate, with a singular golden tusk protruding from his mouth. But perhaps was caught his gaze the most was the black abyss of his eyes. Cold and dark, unreadable. Unpredictable. They made him question rather this Orc even had a soul.

"I am going to strongly propose that you leave and never return," Dezenym spat out like venom, his golden irises unyielding.

However this only made Sith smirk, a sly smile painted on his scared face, "Do you really think I am going to listen to the likes of you?"

"I advise that you do" was the only reply.

"That's a laugh, golden eyes" Sith said, in doing so his hand darted for his sword. Whipping it out as fast as a snake could strike.

"Impressive, but that won't save you"

Before Sith could even question this taunt, Dezenym flared his hands, causing a nearby tree to come to life. It latched onto Sith's hand, wrapping itself around and tightening its grasp. With a shuttered cry of agony, Sith dropped his sword, watching in complete horror as it fell to the snow.

The tree seemed to obey Dezenym's unspoken commands, its branches entwining around Sith, binding him in a firm grip. Sith struggled against the natural restraints, his dark eyes reflecting both pain and fury. The once-confident sneer on his face had twisted into a mask of desperation.

Dezenym approached, his golden gaze unwavering, a silent storm brewing within. The snow-covered ground crunched beneath his boots as he closed the distance, the bitter cold air filled with tension. His golden eyes bore into Sith, the intensity of his gaze reflecting both anger and a hint of regret.

"You've greatly underestimated me," Dezenym stated, his voice a low growl. "And now I will make sure you will never harm my daughter."

Sith gritted his teeth, attempting to break free from the living vice that constricted around his body. The tree, obeying Dezenym's will, responded by tightening its hold, causing Sith to wince in intensified pain.

"You see, Sith," Dezenym spoke with a measured tone, "There are powers in this world far older and mightier than your ambitions. You would do well to remember that."

"I'll make sure you leave this place, and you won't return," Dezenym declared, his voice carrying a weight that echoed through the wintry silence.

"I gave you a chance to leave," Dezenym spoke with a measured calmness, though a burning intensity lingered in his tone. "Now, you'll face the consequences. It is time for you to answer for the chaos you've sown," Dezenym declared, his eyes narrowing as he garbed hold of Sith shoulders, glaring into his abyss-like eyes with the intensity of the sun.

"You will leave and never return, you will go back to the hell you've crawled out of with no memory of this nor Onyx. You will not know whom she is, and you will go back without the notion of where you came from." Dezenym's voice reverberated through Sith's mind, his words taking over. Consuming Sith's mind.

"Now go," he whispered into his ear before letting go. As he did, so did the tree, the branches resuming their original form.

With weary eyes Dezenym watched as Sith turned East, his Black eyes blank and emotionless.