Grendilton: Rise of the Shadows

★Prologue★

"This..."

His comrades launched everything they had towards the stormy clouds of corruption. The roar of flood waters echoed in his ears, the smell of hot dirt from the blast of lighting and the metallic taste of defeat all invaded Balthazar's senses like a bad dream.

He looked on as Charchet drew three blades and each one slit the throat of a beast. He saw Tessera, who had no fighting experience, create mounds of dirt to rise and bury the creatures but none struck Ethelgard. Balthazar winced, watching Rijeo shutter in pain, limping away from a flock of shadow monsters before impaling them with metal rods that struck through the caverns of their chests.

"Give up," Ethelgard said grotesquely, gripping onto the lancet that Balthazar held. The blade began to cut his hand and the fire surrounding it charred what little skin that covered his fingers.

"Everything I want is on the other side of your fear."

The more Balthazar pushed, the more he felt darkness beginning to climb up his arm. It buried itself into his skin, entering his bloodstream and began to burrow into his magical lifestream. He leered over his shoulder and saw the complete hopelessness that surrounded him.

The ones he not only called comrades but family — they were all on the verge of becoming desecrated. The luscious lands he grew up on were now drowning in a madman's blackmagic.

And Balthazar himself began to feel a complete emptiness fuel his will to give up, unable to drive his lancet any further as Ethelgard himself pushed his body along it.

"Is this the end?"

What he thought was the end created a blinding light to flash before him. In Balthazar's mind, this was his own final song. But even Ethelgard noticed the flash, glaring over his shoulder in disgust.

"What is that?" he sneered, gritting his teeth hard against each other.

The light felt warm and pure against Balthazar's skin. It began to swim against the lingering darkness, making it fizzle into nothing but faded smoke. The horrid creatures that rose from this smoke shrieked in pain, being impaled by this benevolent ray of light that beamed down from the sky above.

This whole occurrence felt like a dream, to which Balthazar immediately questioned. Was this a blessing, or a curse? looking at the presence of both the sun and the moon in the dead night sky — a sight he hasn't seen since the beginning of this war.

"By the gods," Balthazar heard Terresa gasp, pointing at two celestial like beings that reigned down upon them. Such a sight made Ethelgard forget about Balthazar, summoning all his magic at once then sending it flying towards these two magnificent beings.

One of them — who glowed like the moon — held in their hands a staff. With one quick swoop, a furious rush of energy sent Ethelgard flying off into the distance, to which Balthazar had to brace himself for. Such power made him wince, questioning what magic that was as it felt like the gravity around him was altered.

"What is this!" yelled Ethelgard. "You shall not beat me!" Rising from the ashes beneath his feet was a dragon. One with scales as black as night and eyes that were a shade of purple and made the hairs on Balthazar's body stand in fear.

The dragon shrieked then bolted towards the two beings, sending shockwaves all across Castlefront.

The other being — who shone like hot pools of gold — held two blades in each hand. They hurdled them towards the dragon, creating a burst of energy to surround the area, making the temperature around Balthazar seem humid and unbearable. He watched the blades cut through the beast like it was nothing but cotton, with the aftermath being a light that blinded him for a millisecond before seeing these beings in a new light.