The wind howled through the monastery's high arches, carrying with it the scent of something unnatural. Elwin's boots thundered against the floor as he sprinted down the dim corridor, heart pounding in his chest. Screams echoed from the main hall—real, human screams—followed by a roar that didn't belong in this world.
He turned sharply, nearly slipping on the stone tiles, and reached Aymelle's room.
The door was open.
"Aymelle!" he called.
No response.
Her candle still flickered on the table, casting a pool of trembling light across the room—but she was gone.
Then the wall behind him exploded.
A monstrous figure stepped through the smoke and rubble, twice Elwin's size, wearing blackened armor etched with red runes. The stench of rot and iron hit him like a wave. Its skeletal face twisted with malice as it raised a jagged, rusted blade.
One of the Revenants.
Elwin drew his sword just in time to deflect the first blow. Sparks flew. The impact sent him stumbling backward. The creature advanced with relentless force, slashing with brutal speed.
He dodged left, then countered with a desperate swing. His blade scraped along the Revenant's side but barely slowed it. Another strike sent Elwin flying into the corridor wall.
Pain flared through his ribs. He coughed, but still rose.
He had to rise.
For Aymelle.
The Revenant charged again—but this time, a flash of holy light tore through the corridor.
"Sanctum Radiance!"
Remulus stood behind the creature, staff glowing with divine magic. A white circle bloomed under the Revenant's feet, and a column of light engulfed it. The creature shrieked, staggering back.
Remulus stepped forward. "Elwin, go! Find her!"
Elwin didn't wait. He ran past the smoldering corpse, down the burning halls of what once had been his home.
---
The monastery had become a battlefield. Fires crackled in every direction. Clerics fought desperately against the invaders—ghastly armored revenants, dark hounds, and things Elwin didn't have names for.
He pushed through broken doorways and shattered walls, calling Aymelle's name.
He found her in the chapel's rear wing—cornered, her staff raised, surrounded by two Revenants.
"Aymelle!"
She looked at him, eyes wide. "Elwin!"
One of the Revenants turned to him and lunged.
Elwin didn't stop. He ducked the swing and drove his sword upward into its gut. It screeched and collapsed in a heap of smoke and bone.
But the second Revenant struck Aymelle, knocking her down.
"Get away from her!" Elwin shouted, charging again.
This time, he tackled the creature head-on, wrestling it to the ground before slashing across its throat. It convulsed—then went still.
Elwin turned to her. "Are you alright?"
"I—yes," she whispered. "But Elwin, they're not here by chance. They're looking for something. The Prophet's blood…"
Before either of them could speak further, the chapel doors exploded inward.
A tall figure strode through the flames—armor like onyx, helm of silver, and crimson eyes burning with cruel intelligence. Unlike the other Revenants, this one moved like a man.
The leader.
He raised his hand. A pulse of shadow magic hurled Elwin across the chapel.
Aymelle cried out, running to him—but the figure was already upon her.
"You are the key, priestess," it said. "Your blood shall open the Gate."
"No!" Elwin struggled to rise, but pain pinned him down.
Aymelle gritted her teeth, hands trembling as she pressed them to the floor. A circle of sacred light ignited beneath her.
She whispered one last prayer.
"In the name of the Goddess, I reject thee!"
Light exploded through the chapel like a sunburst. The armored figure screamed and vanished in a blaze of white flame.
And when the light faded—
Aymelle was gone.
Only her staff remained, resting on the shattered stone.
---
Elwin awoke to cold air and silence.
Dawn had come. Smoke drifted through the ruins. The monastery—his home—was broken.
Mael found him sitting in the rubble, Aymelle's staff in his hands.
"She's gone, isn't she?" Mael asked quietly.
Elwin didn't answer.
He looked out at the horizon, his expression carved from stone.
"She was taken," he said. "By the Bloodbound."
Mael said nothing. What could he say?
Elwin stood.
"I'm going to find her," he said.
His voice held no doubt. Only resolve.
No matter how far. No matter how long.
He would bring her back.
Even if he had to walk through hell itself.
When Aymelle Weeps – Chapter 2: The Night of Fire
The wind howled through the monastery's high arches, carrying with it the scent of something unnatural. Elwin's boots thundered against the floor as he sprinted down the dim corridor, heart pounding in his chest. Screams echoed from the main hall—real, human screams—followed by a roar that didn't belong in this world.
He turned sharply, nearly slipping on the stone tiles, and reached Aymelle's room.
The door was open.
"Aymelle!" he called.
No response.
Her candle still flickered on the table, casting a pool of trembling light across the room—but she was gone.
Then the wall behind him exploded.
A monstrous figure stepped through the smoke and rubble, twice Elwin's size, wearing blackened armor etched with red runes. The stench of rot and iron hit him like a wave. Its skeletal face twisted with malice as it raised a jagged, rusted blade.
One of the Revenants.
Elwin drew his sword just in time to deflect the first blow. Sparks flew. The impact sent him stumbling backward. The creature advanced with relentless force, slashing with brutal speed.
He dodged left, then countered with a desperate swing. His blade scraped along the Revenant's side but barely slowed it. Another strike sent Elwin flying into the corridor wall.
Pain flared through his ribs. He coughed, but still rose.
He had to rise.
For Aymelle.
The Revenant charged again—but this time, a flash of holy light tore through the corridor.
"Sanctum Radiance!"
Remulus stood behind the creature, staff glowing with divine magic. A white circle bloomed under the Revenant's feet, and a column of light engulfed it. The creature shrieked, staggering back.
Remulus stepped forward. "Elwin, go! Find her!"
Elwin didn't wait. He ran past the smoldering corpse, down the burning halls of what once had been his home.
---
The monastery had become a battlefield. Fires crackled in every direction. Clerics fought desperately against the invaders—ghastly armored revenants, dark hounds, and things Elwin didn't have names for.
He pushed through broken doorways and shattered walls, calling Aymelle's name.
He found her in the chapel's rear wing—cornered, her staff raised, surrounded by two Revenants.
"Aymelle!"
She looked at him, eyes wide. "Elwin!"
One of the Revenants turned to him and lunged.
Elwin didn't stop. He ducked the swing and drove his sword upward into its gut. It screeched and collapsed in a heap of smoke and bone.
But the second Revenant struck Aymelle, knocking her down.
"Get away from her!" Elwin shouted, charging again.
This time, he tackled the creature head-on, wrestling it to the ground before slashing across its throat. It convulsed—then went still.
Elwin turned to her. "Are you alright?"
"I—yes," she whispered. "But Elwin, they're not here by chance. They're looking for something. The Prophet's blood…"
Before either of them could speak further, the chapel doors exploded inward.
A tall figure strode through the flames—armor like onyx, helm of silver, and crimson eyes burning with cruel intelligence. Unlike the other Revenants, this one moved like a man.
The leader.
He raised his hand. A pulse of shadow magic hurled Elwin across the chapel.
Aymelle cried out, running to him—but the figure was already upon her.
"You are the key, priestess," it said. "Your blood shall open the Gate."
"No!" Elwin struggled to rise, but pain pinned him down.
Aymelle gritted her teeth, hands trembling as she pressed them to the floor. A circle of sacred light ignited beneath her.
She whispered one last prayer.
"In the name of the Goddess, I reject thee!"
Light exploded through the chapel like a sunburst. The armored figure screamed and vanished in a blaze of white flame.
And when the light faded—
Aymelle was gone.
Only her staff remained, resting on the shattered stone.
---
Elwin awoke to cold air and silence.
Dawn had come. Smoke drifted through the ruins. The monastery—his home—was broken.
Mael found him sitting in the rubble, Aymelle's staff in his hands.
"She's gone, isn't she?" Mael asked quietly.
Elwin didn't answer.
He looked out at the horizon, his expression carved from stone.
"She was taken," he said. "By the Bloodbound."
Mael said nothing. What could he say?
Elwin stood.
"I'm going to find her," he said.
His voice held no doubt. Only resolve.
No matter how far. No matter how long.
He would bring her back.
Even if he had to walk through hell itself.