The Lost ( A Sequel To The Forgotten )

D Is For Danger

I spot a pool of water, maybe 10 yards in each direction, but realize I have no way of bringing the water back with me. Plus, I don't know if the water is clean or dirty. Maybe something like the screaming mushroom lives in there! Sighing in defeat, I turn around. Man, fate just hates me today! I look up, not wanting to run into a tree, and come to a terrible realization. I'm lost. The trees all look the same, and anything I might remember seems to have vanished.
"Guys?" I call out. "Tarna? Person? Ray- er, not Ray. How about Cassie?" No answer. "If you can hear me, say something!" Silence rules the forest. Oh boy. I'm lost. What do I do? Stay put? Move around? I decide that staying put will just keep me lost, so I risk walking in the direction I think is a right. I did come from this way, right?
"Having trouble, Tacking?" asks a voice. I whirl around, but no one is there.
"Oh, come now. Did I... trick... you?" I know that voice. I know that terrible voice. I whirl around again, shadows ready. No one.
"I heard you were having trouble. Someone got hit with a tree?" I close my eyes and let darkness be my eyes. He's... there. I throw a shadow, eyes still closed. I hear a grunt and something hits the ground. I pull out Mareth and point her, eyes closed. I slowly open them to see a murderer. A traitor. An enemy. Allen.
Allen grins up at me. I immediately notice his black clothing, including a cape and a robe. His helmet, as usual, is on, and his eyes change constantly. They grow slightly brighter, then darker, and once or twice even flicker back to the blue eyes of my friend.
"You're looking well." notes Allen, starting to get up. I extend Mareth to almost touch Allen's neck. He laughs and shoves my sword away.
"Oh, please. What ate you going to do with that? Kill me?" By now, he's standing.
"I should." I say, voice trembling with anger. "You killed Shiran." Allen once again laughs.
"I did do that, didn't I? Well, what's done is done." In anger, I swing Mareth, nearly cutting Allen. He looks at me curiously.
"So you do have it in you to fight an old friend. That'll make this more interesting." He brushes himself off, preparing for battle.
"You don't even have a sword." I remind him. He laughs.
"Of course I do. I just lent it to you." With that, he explodes into smoke. I wave it away, but Allen is gone. I growl in frustration, but my anger quickly turns to surprise as a solid kick to my back sends me to the ground. I spit out the dirt in my mouth and look up to see Allen smirking.
"Even with no weapons, I'm too powerful for you? Oh, come now. That's no fun." Allen shrugs and reaches down to his gloved hand. I hadn't noticed the gloves. They're white, and make him look like a magician. He slips the glove off of his hand, and I see his plan. I scramble, on my back, backwards. Allen laughs.
"You figured it out! That's right, Wrive. One touch... and you say bye-bye to life. This time, forever." He laughs again and walks casually at me. I quickly get on my knees and sweep Mareth at Allen's legs, forcing him to back up. Regaining my footing, I keep my distance and swipe at Allen. He dodges and fakes, but gets no closer. He growls in frustration.
"I'm done playing games, Tacking! Do not mess with a Dusk Walker!" With the, he once again vanishes. This time, I'm prepared. I turn slowly, not letting Allen get on my back. He doesn't have to. A sudden shock hits my head, and I scream. No scars or bruises are to my head, but the pain is terrible. The shock starts to fade, and I look up. Allen is sitting in a tree with a staff of some sort. It's tall and has a red sphere on top.
"No more games, Tacking." He raises his staff and I dive to the left. It makes no difference, and a beam of glowing red energy zaps my head. I once again scream, and Allen once again laughs. His eyes turn the darkest I've seen them. The terrible beam lifts me slowly into the air, but I'm too busy screaming to care. Once I'm only a few feet in front of him, Allen moves the beam down, off my head. It travels slowly down my mouth, which makes screaming hurt but I can't stop. The beam goes onto my neck, and I realize his plan. He wants to get the beam to my heart-machine! The thing keeping me alive. Although I'm still in agonizing pain, I shove as much darkness out of me as I can. The pain lessens greatly, and a tiny block of shadows stands between me and Allen's beam. With the pain gone, I can focus on the dark. I push and push and push. My little dark-beam grows slowly, until the staff and I are equal. Gritting my teeth, I grasp at the shadows inside of me until there aren't any more. I now have three fourths of the space between us covered in a dark beam. Allen is frowning. I grab at the emptiness where my used-up energy is and keep pushing. Somehow, I gradually extend my darkness closer to Allen. He's panicking now. That gives me the last big shove of strength I need, and I give one final heave of energy. Allen drops out of the tree just in time to avoid the massive beam of darkness. Well, most of it. His staff also explodes, which must hurt at least a little bit. A little darkness follows him, and it attacks. Allen is only bothered by this, but I know it has a purpose. I drop out of the air ( speaking of, I just realized; I was flying! Well, hovering. ) and land flat on my stomach, gasping for air. The darkness bothering Allen returns to me, giving me a tiny spark of energy. I look up, and Allen looks furious.
"You have no idea of what is coming, Tacking. You celebrate over the defeat of one tiny speck! I will grant you no mercy, boy." Allen turns and disappears into smoke, leaving me to collapse. I need rest. My ability needs rest. I welcome the nothingness of being unconscious.