A/N: All rights to the original content are reserved by the respective copyright owner.
Comment and vote to show your support, thanks!
---
Alphen stood at the edge of the training ground, his gaze fixed upon the scene before him with an intensity that matched the gravity of his thoughts. The man he had pledged to serve, the one prophesied by his queen, Idrila, seemed a paradox personified. In Y/N, there was a tangible thirst for power, an insatiable longing that stirred unease within Alphen's chest. It was a feeling he struggled to articulate, something beyond mere suspicion—it was a sense of foreboding.
The knight's protective instincts were amplified when his eyes settled on Sandra and Igris. Sandra's youthful exuberance, her unguarded interest in the sparring match, and Igris' unwavering dedication to Y/N—all served to deepen the chasm of his apprehension. Alphen couldn't shake the image of Y/N's eyes when they first met: abyssal, fathomless, and filled with a burgeoning might that threatened to eclipse the glory of their queen herself.
A week had passed since that first encounter, yet the memory of Y/N's gaze remained etched in Alphen's mind, a relentless shiver that danced upon his spine. The power that lay within Y/N's eyes spoke of depths untold, a reservoir of strength that Alphen feared could one day overflow and drown them all in its dark tide.
As he watched Y/N and Igris spar, the black energy that Y/N wielded with increasing finesse was a testament to the rapid ascension of his might. Alphen could not deny the potential for greatness, for Y/N's burgeoning abilities hinted at a future where their queen's visions of glory could be surpassed.
Yet, with the potential came an ever-present shadow of doubt. Alphen's loyalty was torn, caught between the oath he had sworn and the instinctive fear that Y/N's quest for power could lead them down a perilous path. It was a division he bore silently, a weight upon his shoulders that none but he could feel.
Despite the tumult of his inner turmoil, Alphen recognized the need to extend the olive branch of trust. Sandra and Igris, whose interactions with Y/N were marked by genuine affection and respect, provided a counterpoint to his fears. Their ease with Y/N suggested layers to the man that Alphen had yet to witness, facets of a leader that could inspire rather than intimidate.
In a silent vow to himself, Alphen decided to give Y/N the chance to prove his worthiness of the title bestowed upon him. He would serve, he would observe, and he would hope—to see in Y/N a leader who could guide them to salvation, a beacon to dispel the darkness that threatened their realm.
The chance would not be without its challenges, for the lingering fear was a ghost that whispered doubts into his ear. But Alphen was a knight of the realm, and his resolve was as much a part of him as the sword at his side.
With this newfound determination, Alphen continued his silent vigil, his eyes never straying from the spectacle of power on display. He would watch, and he would wait—for in the dance of light and shadow, in the clashing of wills and the testing of steel, the truth of Y/N's soul would surely reveal itself. And Alphen would be there to see it unfold, come what may.
---
Sandra watched Y/N from a distance, her heart heavy with an emotion she struggled to name. Two weeks had passed since the harrowing encounter with the Great Ones, and the change in Y/N was as clear as the bright moon in a starless sky. The man who had once stood tall with the confidence of the sun now seemed to carry the weight of shadows. His training was relentless, an unspoken fury driving his every move, his eyes often narrowed in focus or frustration.
She couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that clung to her whenever she observed him. It was the aura that surrounded him during those solitary moments—trails of shadowy essence and tendrils of black miasma that seemed almost alive. These wisps of darkness danced around him, a stark reminder of the power that was growing within him—a power that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Yet, paradoxically, Sandra found a measure of joy in this transformation. Y/N was indeed growing stronger, a fact that both Igris and Alphen confirmed with a mix of admiration and concern. His strength burgeoned at a pace that seemed to defy the natural order, a testament to the potential they all knew he possessed.
The joy she found was also personal—Y/N's care for her was unwavering. His gestures of comfort, the head pats and the embraces, were a balm to her spirit. In those moments, she was transported back to the days of her mother's gentle touch, a memory that soothed her loneliness. Yet, even as he held her close, there was an undercurrent of sorrow in him, a fear that she might slip away like a dream upon waking. His hugs lingered, sometimes a shade too desperate, but she allowed them, understanding the unspoken need behind them.
But with every passing day, Sandra felt a growing sense of helplessness. She was a princess, not a warrior like the others, and her role in their quest seemed to diminish with each of Y/N's advancements. She yearned to contribute, to be more than a silent observer, but Y/N's protective instincts always barred her way. His refusals were gentle, yet firm—always underlined with the insistence that she stay safe. It was an act of care, no doubt, but it left her feeling sidelined, a pawn rather than a player in the game of fates.
The concern for Y/N was not hers alone to bear. Igris and Alphen shared her worries, their discussions often turning to their liege's well-being. They watched over him with the vigilance of sentinels, their eyes often meeting in silent conversation over Y/N's hunched figure.
Determined to find a way to aid Y/N, Sandra resolved to seek out answers. She couldn't continue to be the damsel in distress; she needed to be a part of the solution. With a newfound resolve, she approached Igris and Alphen, her voice steady, her gaze unwavering.
---
Igris and Alphen, the guardians of twilight, found solace under the celestial canvas as stars flickered into existence, painting the night with whispers of ancient light. The peace that cradled them was a rare commodity, a momentary reprieve from the relentless march of their quest.
Igris, cloaked in the dignity of his role, allowed his gaze to drift towards Alphen, whose silhouette was as much a part of the night as the shadows they served. The blessings of their Queen lingered on them, a gift that rendered the need for sustenance null—a boon for soldiers bound to the eternal battlefield.
Yet, it was the rare pang of longing for the simple pleasure of a meal that reminded Igris of his lingering humanity. The occasional craving was a ghost of a life once lived, a life where he was not just a Marshal but a man.
Alphen's voice, a resonant baritone, cut through Igris' nostalgia. "Sir Igris," he began, his posture unyielding as if at the brink of combat. There was admiration in his tone, a respect forged in the fires of battle.
Igris, heeding Y/N's earlier counsel, sought to bridge the gap of rank that separated them. "Alphen, how often must I remind you? Between us, titles are unnecessary. We are comrades, bound by more than mere duty," he insisted, a warmth in his voice that sought to dispel the formality of their station.
Alphen hesitated, his disciplined nature at odds with the informal address. "Apologies, Igris," he corrected himself, though the discomfort was evident in his voice, a testament to years of martial decorum.
A sigh escaped Igris, a mirror to Y/N's own frustrations. Yet, the pressing matter at hand called for a direct approach. "Alphen, what is your measure of our liege, Y/N?" he asked, his curiosity genuine, seeking a comrade's unvarnished perspective.
Alphen's reaction was a tremor of unease, unexpected and revealing. He settled onto a tree stump, his posture that of a man bracing for a long recount. "Lord Y/N? His aura of power was unmistakable at our first meeting. Yet, there's a coldness to him, an aloofness," Alphen admitted, choosing his words with care.
Igris countered with his own recollection, "When I first encountered him, he was a guardian to lady Sandra, his aura undeniable. But he also bore an inquisitive spirit, a desire for understanding. Can you fault a man thrust into a realm unknown for seeking clarity?"
Alphen conceded with a nod, yet his thoughts ran deeper. "True, but it's the monstrous pursuit of power that chills me. If not for the tenderness he shows lady Sandra, I would've doubted our oath," he confessed, his fears laid bare.
Igris's retort was swift, a surge of indignation at the notion of a broken oath. "Alphen, dispel such thoughts! If our liege walks with darkness, trust there is reason behind his actions. Our faith must be steadfast," he argued, his loyalty unshaken.
Alphen's justification was equally passionate, "But the cloak of the Great Ones enfolds him! Recall how he vanished before us, a harbinger of their influence."
Igris's affirmation was a declaration of his belief. "I do. And I stand by my trust in him. He's mastering the darkness, not succumbing to it."
Their debate was abruptly interrupted by the crash of a branch and the thud of an unexpected eavesdropper's descent. Lady Sandra lay on the ground, her inadvertent arrival halting the knights' discourse.
Rising with a wince, Sandra brushed off her attire, her youthful resilience shining through. "Ouch... that's going to leave a mark," she muttered, still clutching her head.
The knights were at her side in an instant, their concern tangible. "Lady Sandra, are you harmed?" Igris inquired, his hands carefully searching for any sign of injury.
With a reassuring nod, Sandra dismissed their worries, her language befitting of royalty. "I'm well, but your argument unsettles me. Why do such thoughts plague you?"
Alphen and Igris exchanged a glance, their disagreement laid bare before their charge. It was Sandra's turn to speak, her childlike innocence belying a wisdom beyond her years.
"Both of you care deeply for Y/N, as do I," she began, her voice steady, "but where there is concern, there must also be understanding. Y/N is not just our liege; he's a person, fighting a battle we can scarcely comprehend."
Alphen listened, his stance softening. "But how can we stand by him when his path veers towards destruction?"
Sandra's reply was gentle yet firm. "By remembering the man beneath the power. The one who cares, who fears, who loves. The one who is more than the sum of his aura."
Igris nodded, his resolve strengthening with Sandra's words. "She's right. We've seen him in moments of tenderness, moments that reveal his true nature."
"And those moments are what we must cherish and protect," Sandra continued, her conviction clear. "We must be the anchors that tether him to the light, lest the darkness consume him."
Alphen, moved by the purity of her sentiment, found his own doubts waning. "Perhaps you're right, my lady. Perhaps it's time I give our liege a second chance, to see him through your eyes."
Sandra smiled, her mission clear. "Together, we can guide him back. Together, we can heal the scars left by those who are evil."
---
"Why do you ignore me, so? How long will you ignore me, love?" The voice slithered into Y/N's thoughts like a serpent, an unwelcome intruder in his sanctuary of solitude. Oedon's seductive tendrils of influence wrapped around his consciousness, a persistent reminder of the Great One's haunting presence.
Y/N loathed the voice, its sickly sweet tones a stark contrast to the anger that burned within him. He had naively hoped that the encounter with Oedon would be the last, yet the Great One's whispers were a relentless storm, each word a drop of poison threatening to drown him in its depths.
In his dreams, during training, the taunting echoes surrounded him, a dark chorus that reverberated against the walls of his soul. But Y/N was no stranger to adversity; he forged his wrath into a weapon, a source of motivation to fuel his relentless pursuit of strength. He despised the interruptions, the constant reminders of his vulnerability amidst beings of unfathomable power.
His fingers found the shadow pearl pendant at his neck, a talisman that had become a part of his ritual to find calm amidst the chaos. The cool surface of the gem was a balm, a focal point to center his spiraling thoughts.
"Why fight for power? You have me, I can protect you as long as you're in the clutches of my dimension. Drop your quest and take me. Y/N~" The voice cooed, a viper's hiss wrapped in velvet.
The rune, a morbid sigil that seemed to pulsate with a life of its own, marked the back of Y/N's hand—a constant reminder of the Great One's mark. It was a shape he recognized from the darkest corners of his nightmares - a rune with three vertical lines, the center longest, crossed at the top by a horizontal line, all under the watchful gaze of three crimson dots - a design he had tried to conceal from his allies, though he suspected they could sense its malignant aura.
"Think of happy thoughts, Y/N. If you can survive in Xianzhou, then you can also survive here," he whispered to himself, a mantra to ward off the darkness that clawed at the edges of his mind. But Oedon's laughter, a sound laced with sadistic amusement, pierced through his defenses. "Your friends are not here. I have taken a look at your memory bubbles—oh! Your production is so cute~"
A twitch of anger coursed through Y/N, Oedon's violation of his memories a line crossed. "I have more friends now, in the form of outerworld alliances and Aeons," he retorted, a small victory against the Great One's taunts, even as her giggles echoed around him.
"That does not stop me from intruding within you. However, I do loathe your closeness with the swordswoman," Oedon sneered, her contempt for Jingliu palpable in her tone.
Y/N's eyes blazed, a darkness enveloping his vision as shadows coalesced around him, fueling him with a wrathful energy that seemed to set the very air ablaze. "You dare mention her while I am here!?" he roared, his voice a thunderous boom that startled the members of his group. "Oedon! I will destroy you if you even touch a hair of her!" His declaration was a war cry, the black miasma emanating from him with such force that it obliterated the surrounding trees.
Silence fell, a heavy cloak that smothered the whispers. Y/N felt the Great One's presence recede, a slow torturous retreat from his mind, but not without leaving behind a cryptic parting message that stoked the fires of his rage even higher.
"Thank you."
And with that, she was gone, her presence a chilling absence in his mind.
Y/N stood amidst the destruction, his chest heaving with exertion, his mind a whirlwind of fury and confusion. The cryptic gratitude of Oedon was a puzzle, a riddle wrapped in enigma that left him with more questions than answers.
His sudden explosion of power had left an undeniable mark on the world around him and the comrades by his side, the retreating darkness from his eyes a visual echo of the shadows that had just raged from him. His comrades were still reeling from the outburst—their stances a tableau of shock and readiness.
Sandra's wide, frightened eyes tugged at Y/N's conscience, her childlike innocence a stark contrast to the fury he had just unleashed. Igris, ever the protector, had conjured a shield before her, while Alphen, the knight of stoic resolve, had drawn his long sword, its silver blade with red accents gleaming in the chaos.
The environment around them bore the scars of Y/N's fury, the shattered tranquility a testament to the power he so desperately sought to control. A tongue click of annoyance and regret escaped him—an annoyance for the Great One's provocations, and regret for his momentary loss of control.
"At ease, everyone. I... there's a lot to talk about," Y/N said, his voice a mix of command and calm, seeking to soothe his companions as much as himself. He had yet to disclose the full scope of his encounter with the Great One, a truth that now weighed heavily upon him.
Igris responded first, the magical shield dissipating into the air as trust replaced vigilance. Alphen followed suit, albeit with a lingering hesitation, his sword returning to its sheath but his gaze never leaving Y/N. The knight's wariness was not lost on Y/N; despite his efforts to bridge the gap between them, it seemed Alphen's trust would be hard-won.
Y/N knew the time for secrets had passed. He took a deep breath, straightening his posture as if to brace against the vulnerability of confession. "To begin, I must say that I am sorry," he began, bowing deeply before them—a gesture of sincerity that widened the eyes of Igris, Sandra, and even Alphen. Y/N's humility was unexpected, a crack in the facade of the steadfast leader they knew.
As he straightened up, Y/N met their gazes, the air felt charged with anticipation. "When I ventured through my portal, I did not find the reunion you anticipated. Instead, I was drawn into a forest of graves and decay. A name uncovered on a tombstone, a name engraved, 'Yharnam'," he explained, recounting his journey into the realm tainted by the Great One's touch.
Sandra's reaction to the name 'Yharnam' was a silent shiver, a piece of the puzzle that Y/N stored away for later consideration. Igris and Alphen listened intently, their confusion evident even behind the armor that concealed their expressions.
"The labyrinth that followed was a prison of sorts, from which a Great One emerged. I will not speak her name aloud," Y/N continued, his tone grave, an implicit warning of the power such names could wield. "But it is she who stirred my rage."
The knights exchanged a look of dawning realization. Igris spoke up, his voice reflecting the depth of his knowledge. "It is known that this Great One has no physical form, existing in a higher plane. If it manifested physically before you, it must have taken a vessel."
Alphen nodded, his contribution laced with the caution of a man who knew the danger they faced. "A being without a physical body, yes. Our records are limited, but this much we know. To think it would seek you out..."
Y/N thanked them for their insights, feeling the weight of the situation pressing upon them all. "Thank you," he said, "but there is more. This Great One... desires me," he confessed, his tone implying the gravity of the implications.
Sandra's face was a mask of confusion, while Igris' expression hardened with anger. Alphen, however, appeared lost, his confusion broke through his discipline. "My liege, are you implying that she—" But Igris's swift reprimand, a bonk atop Alphen's helmet, silenced him.
Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected humor, grateful for the momentary lightness amidst the gravity of their discussion. He composed himself, wanting to wrap up his account. "Afterwards, I was aided by an Aeon to escape. And that's how I came to meet you, Alphen," he said, addressing the knight directly. "For the impression I've given you... I apologize."
Alphen, now understanding the depth of Y/N's struggles, felt his previous judgments crumble. He knelt before Y/N, repledging his allegiance with newfound respect and humility.
As Y/N's smile broke through the gloom of the past weeks, Sandra approached him, her steps tentative. The fear that had gripped her heart was fading, replaced by an understanding of the man before her—a man struggling against forces beyond their ken but holding fast to his humanity.
In a voice tinged with self-reproach, Sandra spoke. "I've felt so useless, pushed to the sidelines. I wanted to help, to ease your burden, and I thought I had failed."
Y/N knelt before her, his gaze soft. "You are far from useless, Sandra. You are the light that guides us, our beacon of hope. Your presence alone lifts our spirits."
Sandra's tears, a mix of relief and joy, were met with Y/N's comforting embrace, his hands softly patting her back. The group, once fraught with tension, now stood united by the bonds of trust and understanding.
Igris observed the tender scene, his heart lightened by the mending of their fellowship. Alphen, too, was moved, his earlier stoicism giving way to an emotional release behind the safety of his helm. Igris shook his head at Alphen's emotional display.
"You're crying," Igris noted, the observation clear in his tone.
"These are manly tears, Igris!" Alphen insisted, the vulnerability in his voice belying his attempt at bravado.
---
In the quietude of the evening, a newfound camaraderie settled upon the group like the gentle descent of night. The revelations shared by Y/N had woven a tapestry of trust and understanding among them, mending the frayed edges of suspicion and doubt, especially for Alphen. The knight now viewed Y/N's candor as a bridge to a stronger bond—a foundation upon which to build their unified front.
Y/N found solace in the quiet of the night, the soft sounds of his comrades' steady breathing a symphony of peace. The events of the day had lifted a weight from his shoulders, the act of revealing his inner turmoil bringing an unexpected solace. He had always been a man of action, preferring the clarity of battle to the ambiguity of words. Yet, in this realm, he had learned the value of vulnerability, the strength found in sharing one's fears.
"How have they been, I wonder? And how long has it been since I've not met them?" he whispered, his voice barely a breath against the stillness of the world. The questions were a silent plea to the universe, an offering of his yearning to the stars that had guided him since his youth.
A sigh escaped him, the sound a mere ripple in the ocean of tranquility that the space provided. Yet, he continued to speak, a catharsis for the emotions that had been his constant companions these past weeks.
"Dan Feng and Ying Xing better not be fighting against each other for something stupid," he chided in jest, envisioning the High Elder and the Master Artisan locked in their good-natured, yet relentless, contest of wills.
His thoughts drifted to Jing Yuan, his student. "Jing Yuan, my hope is that you've risen to the ranks of a General by now. You need something to rouse you from those naps of yours," Y/N mused, his heart swelling with a mentor's pride mixed with a touch of concern for his protégé's well-known lethargy.
His mind's eye painted a constellation in the shape of a playful foxian, Baiheng, whose mischievous grin had always been a source of joy and exasperation. "Baiheng, you were the sister I never had. I'm certain mom would've loved you as her own," he murmured, the nostalgia for their shared antics a balm to his solitude. He could almost hear the echo of their laughter, ringing through the chambers of the past, a reminder of the chaos they'd conjured, much to the chagrin of the Marshal of Cloud Knights and Jingliu.
His thoughts then turned to Jingliu, her fiery spirit and her passionate heart. A smile briefly illuminated his face as he recalled their friendship. But the smile faded into the twilight as guilt crept in. "Jingliu, I can only imagine your worry, your anger," he murmured, the shadows of sadness and remorse for leaving her alone to face their shared burdens. "But we will see each other again. I promise this," he vowed, the stars bearing witness to his silent oath.
A familiar voice, soothing and maternal, interrupted his reverie. "Y/N?" it called, and Y/N's fingers twitched in recognition before he stilled them, knowing well the source.
"Mother? How have you been after that... fiasco? You must be tired," he asked, his heart lifting at the sound of Ena's voice.
"I am well, Y/N. I am more relieved that you have sorted your feelings out. This mother of yours is grateful for your work of independence," Ena replied, her pride in him a warm embrace that spanned the distance between them.
Y/N's contentment was tinged with a question that had burrowed into his thoughts. "Why didn't you help me during my troubles?" he asked, his query not an accusation but a search for understanding.
Ena's silence was contemplative before she revealed her intentions. "You needed to face those trials alone, to master your emotions, to lead. It was a lesson only experience could teach," she imparted, her words resonating with the wisdom of her years.
Y/N absorbed her explanation, recognizing the value in the hardships he had endured. "It was a lesson well-received," he conceded, his voice steady with newfound understanding.
"I spoke of Order, yes? And now, my son, it is time to embrace balance. The cycle calls for it, and he awaits you," Ena continued, and Y/N felt the stars realigning, a cosmic shift that heralded a new phase in his journey.
With a suddenness that took his breath away, Y/N found himself transported to a sacred chamber, the space around him charged with an energy that was both ancient and alive.
The temple stood resplendent, an edifice of serenity amidst the chaos of the world. As Y/N's eyes fluttered open, he found himself in its hallowed halls, the weight of his recent revelation still pressing upon his soul. The evening had brought a closeness within their group, one that he had not anticipated, and it was with a lighter heart that he had surrendered to sleep. But now, transported to this unknown place, he found a different kind of peace—one that was as profound as it was unsettling.
The temple's architecture was a testament to the ages, with soaring columns that brushed the heavens and stained glass that painted the floor with a mosaic of light. Petals of blue and whispers of wind danced through the air, and the silence was a sacred song, uninterrupted by the world outside.
At the temple's heart stood an entity of profound presence—an Aeon. The figure was both familiar and otherworldly, its form an embodiment of the human and the divine. Its central eye, a symbol of the eternal balance between Yin and Yang, held Y/N's gaze, commanding yet serene.
The Aeon's body was a tapestry of geometric precision, a harmonious blend of shapes and shades that spoke of its role as the arbiter of balance. It sat in meditation, its posture an ode to equilibrium, its arms open in receptivity to the dualities of the universe.
Colors radiated from its form, a spectrum that signified the active state of balance that it maintained. The entity was both emerging from and dissolving into the cosmos, a reminder of the transient nature of all things.
"I am Hooh, The Aeon of Equilibrium," it introduced itself, its voice a profound echo that reverberated through the temple. "I uphold the balance of all dichotomies, ensuring the harmony that is the foundation of existence."
The Aeon's gaze upon Y/N was an appraisal, a silent judgment that seemed to pierce through to his very soul. "I will teach you balance—the delicate dance of the Abyss. Prepare to learn from the oldest of Aeons," Hooh declared, and Y/N knew his journey towards understanding the very essence of balance had just begun.
End of Chapter