Fan Fiction ❯ Interitus ❯ Elite Fighters and a Child ( Chapter 10 )

Innouva was shaken. All he could do was stare at the shattered crystal ball that had exploded right after he had seen Himinarth kill his warrior with his magic sword. But it was not the sword that concerned him; he had already calculated the possibility that the Solaris paladin could obtain one. What bothered him was that he could have sworn that he had sensed some spiritual being, some person within the attack. But who? Who could it possibly be? He knew he had carefully accounted for every possible situation and event that could happen within his game, but somehow this, this thing had snuck in somehow. And now Innouva was left to deal with it, but how?

The sound of a door opening and something being thrust inside reached Innouva's sensitive ears. Casually he turned around, already knowing who, or what the visitor would be.

Before him knelt the sole survivor of the mountain attack on the Illuminati. Innouva's eyes narrowed in disgust. The humanoid Shinma was on its hands and knees; sniveling and whimpering like the pathetic animal it was deep inside. The sorcerer walked towards the revolting demon, his footsteps echoing loudly throughout the dark room. The Shinma cringed at the sounds of his master's approach.

"Tell me slave, how many soldiers did your leader send to attack the Illuminati?" Innouva asked calmly.

The Shinma trembled all over in fear. Shakily it answered: "A-about five hundred demons, m-my l-lord."

"And how many Illuminati did I send your army to kill?"

"T-two, dyad Luna I b-believe, my l-lord."

"And what, pray tell happened on the mountain?"

The Shinma wished that its master would stop asking it questions. Even though it was humanoid and therefore given the ability to speak, it found these questions difficult to comprehend. However, the demon was too wise to object to its master's questions. Finally it opened its corrosive mouth and answered the question. "D-dead. All the soldiers are dead, my lord."

"And your leader?"

"G-gone."

"I see." Innouva walked away and stood once more before the shattered crystal ball. His strongest army was gone, so was his general. The sorcerer frowned and fingered the cord on his pouch. Things were getting more difficult than he had planned. He sighed and lifted a white, clawed hand. The hand flashed purple. Slowly, the shards of the crystal ball rose into the air. Eerie, purple auras surrounded the ball, restoring it to its original state. The restored ball floated in the air for a moment, before drifting down and resting on the obsidian, clawed stand.

Innouva's face creased into a deep frown and one of his hands clenched into a fist, his sudden anger radiated from his body, causing the Shinma to whimper once more. It was afraid; tales of its master's unspeakable rage was a story that could unsettle even the hardiest of soldiers. For all the Shinma knew that the only thing this terrible rage brought was death.

For the time being Innouva had forgotten about the Shinma that still knelt on the floor. But not for long, as the Shinma crawled to its mater's side, sniveling and whimpering like the wretched and pathetic beast it was. Carefully, it pawed Innouva's white robes.

"P-please, my lord, f-forgive me, have mercy!"

Innouva exclaimed his utmost disgust by flinging the Shinma back with a powerful wave of brilliant purple. The Shinma gasped and struggled to regain its place on its hands and knees. Fearfully, it lifted its head. Innouva stood before him, his eyes glowed purple, and his robes billowed in some, unfelt wind. Grinning evilly, he clenched a clawed, white hand. A whirring sound filled the room. A vibrant, violet fire conjured up, surrounding his hand. The Shinma tried one, last, desperate action to plead for his life.

"P-please! Mercy! MERCY!"

Like lightning, a crackling, amethyst purple, spiraling stream shot out from Innouva's hand, burrowing itself into the trembling demon, killing it instantly. Dark, almost black bloods pooled out of the collapsed demon, spreading across the dark floor, like tortured hands seeking revenge. The sorcerer snapped his fingers and immediately, a crystal cup appeared. Carefully, using his magic, Innouva scooped up some of the spilt blood. He watched the thick liquid move sluggishly in the glass.

Blood had always fascinated him since he was a child. The way it welled up from wounds and ran through fingers. Blood was the only thing that seemed to calm the chaos that stirred in his mind. The chaos that haunted his slumber and gave him horrifying nightmares, the chaos that torment his heart, hardening it against all kinds of joyous things, the chaos that reminded him of the horrors of his lonely life.

His past came now in only shadowy fragments. His lust to kill had blurred his memory, making it hard to remember the life he led. What he did remember was very little. All he knew was that all his life, he had killed. He had killed many people and things, loving the feeling of blood on his hands, and the thought of innocent blood being shed. The only other thing he knew was that throughout his life, everything he had was taken away, except for one thing…

While Innouva was dwelling on memories, a figure appeared in the shadows behind him. Quietly, the being approached the unsuspecting sorcerer. White, sensitive ears pricked open at the faint sound of a boot stepping in the blood behind him. Innouva tensed visibly for a moment, but the light footsteps continued to approach him and he relaxed. Grinning, he turned around to face his new visitor. Standing before him was a young man. This man resembled the sorcerer in many ways. His eyes were silver and gold like Innouva, and his skin was white as well. His hands carried the trademark of claws. And his ears were keen and sensitive. However, unlike Innouva, the young man had hair of palest blonde. And just recently, he had grown a thin streak of brilliantly colored hair. This streak unsettled Innouva and reminded him of something, but he just could not remember what. The two men remained silent for a moment, until finally the visitor spoke.

"I thought you would want to see me. Was I correct, Father?"

Innouva grinned outwardly but inwardly marveled at the precision of his son's empathic sense. He replied quickly so his son would not notice.

"You are correct as always, Allamar."

Allamar turned and looked down at the remains of the destroyed Shinma. Despite the horrendous smell, the young man remained expressionless. Another silence commenced. And it was Innouva who broke it.

"It is amazing how useless a creature can be." He looked at the dead Shinma with a strong sense of loathing. Allamar nodded his head in silent agreement as Innouva continued. "These demons are nothing but filth. They are wretched, pathetic creatures that are rarely successful unless in large numbers. They are cocky beasts and are always overconfident about their strength and power. Their civilization is grown off of nothing but fighting, cheating, and treachery. Not only that, but they have also never intimidated anyone through their strength and power. Their intimidation reputation has only come from their filthy appearance. Not to mention that only one species of their kind can speak and that they have no intelligence whatsoever!" Innouva took a moment to regain his breath. While he did so, Allamar thought over what his father had said and spoke.

"I take it you have grown to regret allying yourself with this race."

"Why else would I be complaining about them? They don't even grow in relatively the same appearance, their only indications that they are indeed Shinma is that all of them have fiery eyes and they are completely black." Innouva sighed and frowned greatly frustrated. Allamar broke the silence suddenly by speaking once more.

"Perhaps you are criticizing them a little harshly. After all, your former general had described them as elite fighters-"

"Elite fighters, Ha!" Innouva shouted with distaste. "These things bleed, and that shows weakness! An elite fighter has no weakness!" His very own words stunned himself into silence as an idea formulated in his mind. His thoughtful face cracked into an evil grin. "That's it! Of course! It's so simple, why didn't I think of it before?" He snickered as he began to calculate mentally. If Himinarth did have the aide of some divine spirit, his idea would be put to good use. But, in the mean time…

Innouva turned around to face Allamar. He pointed at him and spoke again, smiling as he did so.

"My son, I have a small task for you to fulfill."