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the night was thick with fog as varadha and his fellow assassins crept through the underbrush, their black cloaks melding seamlessly with the darkness. the moon, shrouded by heavy clouds, offered no solace. their target was a remote castle on the western frontier, rumoured to be the hideout of a powerful criminal. this was no ordinary evildoer, but someone with strong connections to the empire's politicians, a puppet master who pulled strings from the shadows and thrived on corruption. their mission was clear: rid the earth of scum like him.
as they drew closer, the air became stifling, heavy with an unnatural silence that prickled the back of varadha’s neck. every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs seemed amplified in the oppressive quiet. he signalled to his comrades, a tight-knit group of three: liora, the quick and silent blade; rian, the brute with strength like a bear; and aksel, the nimble scout. they paused, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger.
“we're close,” varadha whispered, his voice barely audible. “stay alert.”
as they moved forward, the castle loomed ahead, an imposing silhouette against the starless sky. the towering walls were crowned with jagged battlements, and the faint light from torches flickered ominously through the dense fog. they had just reached the outer wall when aksel, who was leading, suddenly stopped and crouched low, raising his hand in warning. varadha dropped to a knee beside him, squinting through the gloom.
“guards,” aksel murmured. “more than usual.”
varadha frowned. their intelligence hadn't mentioned increased security. something was off. he motioned for the group to retreat, but it was too late. a flare of torchlight erupted around them, illuminating a ring of armed guards emerging from the shadows.
“ambush!" rian roared, drawing his massive broadsword with a metallic hiss. but before he could strike, a crossbow bolt whistled through the air, embedding itself in his shoulder. rian staggered, dropping to one knee with a grunt of pain.
liora and varadha leaped into action, their blades flashing in the torchlight. liora moved with the grace of a dancer, her twin daggers weaving deadly arcs, but the guards were well-prepared, their movements coordinated and precise. within moments, liora was disarmed and pinned to the ground, a boot pressing into her back, and varadha found himself surrounded, his sword knocked from his grasp.
a tall, imposing figure stepped forward, the captain of the guard. his face was stern and unyielding, his eyes cold. “surrender, or die,” he commanded, his voice like iron.
varadha glanced at his fallen comrades, then back at the captain. there was no way out. reluctantly, he raised his hands in surrender. the guards moved swiftly, binding their hands and hauling them to their feet.
suddenly, varadha caught sight of a swift movement from the corner of his eye. he turned his head slightly and saw aksel, still hidden in the shadows, a silent ghost in the night. aksel's eyes met varadha's, filled with a fierce determination to help.
but varadha quickly shook his head, a subtle but urgent gesture. he signalled aksel to stop, to run away. aksel hesitated, his muscles tensing as if ready to spring into action. a look of defiance crossed his face, a warrior’s instinct to protect his comrades.
for a moment, aksel’s eyes were a battlefield of emotions— determination, anger, and a deep, abiding loyalty. but then, he closed his eyes as if in pain, forcing himself to obey the unspoken command with visible effort. when he opened them again, the fire had dimmed, replaced by a steely resolve.
aksel slipped back into the shadows, his footsteps silent as he disappeared into the fog. varadha breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that at least one of them had escaped. he turned his attention back to the guards, who seemed oblivious to the silent exchange and the escape of their nimble scout.
the captain of the guard barked more orders, oblivious to the thin thread of hope that still tied varadha to his comrades. “take them to the princess,” he commanded.
varadha's heart sank as the reality of their situation pressed down on him, the weight of iron shackles a bitter reminder of their capture. the journey to the castle's inner keep was a blur of pain and exhaustion, but the memory of aksel's escape provided a flicker of hope in the encroaching darkness.
varadha had a faint suspicion about the identity of this princess, and he was certainly not eager to have his fears confirmed.
the western princess, illyana, was infamous for her cruelty. few who entered her presence left with their sanity intact and many simply vanished, never to be seen again, at least not in any identifiable way.
the rough hands of the guards shoved them forward through narrow, winding corridors lit by flickering torches. the air was thick with the scent of damp stone and mildew. by the time they were dragged into the throne room, varadha's head was spinning, and his vision blurred. the room was lavishly decorated, with tapestries of deep crimson and gold, but it felt as cold as a crypt.
princess illyana sat upon a high-backed throne, her slender form draped in silks and furs that shimmered in the firelight. her eyes, a chilling shade of icy blue, regarded the captives with a detached curiosity. she was beautiful, but there was something unsettling about her beauty— a sense of danger that lurked beneath the surface, like a predator waiting to strike.
“well, well,” she purred, her voice like silk over steel, resonating through the room. “what have we here?”
the captain stepped forward, bowing low. “your highness, these assassins were caught attempting to infiltrate the castle. they are highly skilled and well-armed. i suspect they could be from the night phantom.”
illyana's gaze flickered over each of them, lingering on varadha. “is that so? the night phantom has been a thorn in the empire’s side for over a decade now. to think this is what you have been reduced to. oh, how the mighty have fallen.” she rose from her throne, gliding down the steps with a predatory grace that made varadha's blood run cold. “tell me, who sent you?”
varadha kept his mouth shut, meeting her gaze with defiance. illyana smiled, a chilling expression that sent a shiver down his spine. she reached out and lightly traced a finger along his jawline, her touch as cold as ice.
“brave,” she said softly, almost to herself. “but foolish. very foolish indeed”
the smile that crept upon her face was something straight out of a nightmare.
in an instant, there was a sound like a whispering breeze. for a moment, everything felt surreal, like a fragment of a dark, twisted dream. varadha turned, confusion clouding his mind, but the scene that met his eyes shattered the illusion, the gruesome reality sinking into his very bones.
rian's terror-filled gaze locked with his, and then varadha saw it— liora's cleanly severed head, detached from her body in a grotesque slow motion horror, as it landed with a sickening thud to the ground, the clean slice such a stark contrast to the spraying of crimson all around them. the head rolled to a stop at his feet, the lifeless eyes staring up at him, the stunned expression an eerie testament to the brutal reality of the moment.
varadha choked, a raw sob catching in his throat as the weight of the moment crushed him. he had lost yet another dear friend.
memories flashed through his mind— precious moments spent with liora, the silent yet deadly girl who had always been so kind at heart, kinder than anyone he had ever known, a gentle light in the cruel darkness of their world. and now that light was gone.
he remembered her timid smiles, her hushed laughers, her gentle touch, the way she always looked out for the group when no one was looking. each memory was a precious gem, shining with her firm loyalty, her unspoken kindness, her bravery.
the harsh reality settled over him like a suffocating blanket, and varadha's knees buckled under the weight of his grief. the cold stone floor bit into his skin, but he barely felt it, his mind consumed by the unbearable loss. liora was gone, and with her, a part of him had died as well.
rian was a raging beast behind him, his roars of anguish and rage filling the air like thunder. swearing and thrashing against his captors, he fought with a primal fury, his grief manifesting as a storm of violence. but varadha was so lost in his own thoughts, so consumed by the gaping void left by liora's absence, that he barely registered rian's turmoil.
the world around him seemed to blur, the sounds of the castle fading into a distant, muffled haze. all he could see was liora's lifeless eyes, haunting him with their silent accusation. guilt gnawed at his insides, twisting like a dagger in his heart. he should have done more to protect her, to save her from this fate.
but now it was too late, and the weight of that finality pressed down on him like a leaden shroud. he felt as if he was drowning in a sea of sorrow, each breath a struggle against the suffocating tide of grief. and amidst it all, rian's cries for vengeance echoed like a distant storm, a reminder of the brutal reality they faced.
varadha could not bring himself to move, to fight back against their captors, or even to acknowledge rian's anguish. he was frozen in place, trapped in a prison of his own despair, unable to escape the crushing weight of loss that threatened to consume him whole.
illyana simply watched it all unfold before her with disinterest and turned to the captain, pointing at varadha. “bring him to the interrogation chamber. take the beast to the dungeon, i may have use for him later. and as for that corpse…”
she paused, her eyes narrowing in thought as she studied liora’s decapitated form in scrutiny, igniting a fiery rage in varadha’s veins. “feed it to my boys. oh... and the assassin might have an arcane on her. i want it.”
varadha struggled as the guards began dragging him away, his heart pounding in his chest. the cold stone floor scraped against his feet, the sound echoing in the unnatural stillness of the room.
just a little a more, need to gather my strength just a little more, he winced, willing his mind to concentrate, then i can—
the door to the throne room swung open with a heavy creak, and in walked deva, his presence undeniably commanding, filling the already cold room with an aura of authority and power, like a looming shadow cast by an unseen force. with every step, his demeanour exuded a quiet confidence, his movements deliberate and purposeful, as if he were accustomed to bending the very fabric of reality to his will.
varadha's surprise was palpable, his concentration shattered momentarily by deva's unexpected appearance.
as deva approached illyana, his expression was like a tempest contained within a calm exterior, a force waiting to be unleashed. his piercing gaze swept over varadha's form, registering every detail of his dishevelled state, the shock etched on his face, and the chains that bound him— chains that seemed to evoke a flicker of desire in deva's eyes, a desire reserved for him alone.
those depthless obsidian eyes flickered to catch varadha’s gaze and softened, seeming to burn with an emotion so tangible, varadha couldn’t help the shiver those enigmatic eyes evoked. but as quickly as it had appeared, the moment passed as deva shifted his attention back to illyana, his expression hardening and demeanour poised and unyielding as ever.
despite the unsettling intensity of deva's presence, illyana refused to let it rattle her. she met his gaze with a cool, calculated air, a facade of strength masking the flicker of uncertainty within.
when deva spoke, his voice carried an undeniable authority, a command that brooked no opposition. he asked Illyana to release varadha, his words a challenge veiled beneath a veneer of calm. yet, even as deva exerted his influence, illyana stood her ground, her resolve unyielding.
“it's my loss if i let him go," she replied evenly, her tone betraying none of the turmoil within. if anything, it seemed as though she was trying to play a game here. “i won't get anything out of it.”
she paused, tilting her head slyly to the side and looking straight into deva’s eyes through hooded lids, “but I am willing to let him go... if you give me something in return.”
deva's gaze hardened at her words, his expression unreadable as he asked, “what is it?”
illyana, feeling braver, walked up to deva, trailing a finger down the hard planes of his chest. “i have heard that the empire’s strongest has never taken a woman to bed before. anyone, for that matter.”
“and?” deva squinted at the woman in front of her, his stomach recoiling in disgust as the meaning wasn’t lost on him.
“devaratha raisaar, i want you to sleep with me!” illyana proclaimed, a proud grin forming on her lips at the thought of finally having something she has desired for since she first laid her eyes on the man. “i will make it the best—”
varadha's fists clenched in a white-knuckled grip, his muscles tensing with fury. he could feel the heat of rage coursing through his veins, threatening to consume him whole. he could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing but this blinding rage, this hunger to consume, to destroy, to incinerate this filthy creature who wished to lay her hands upon what was his.
in the future, varadha would look upon this scene in absolute horror, to think he would feel such emotions, feel so strongly for someone that he would be willing to burn the whole world for him. especially since that person was his sworn enemy. but right now, in this moment, he just wanted to unleash the storm brewing within him
and with that a blinding blue light erupted from where his right hand lay, casting harsh shadows across the room.
in the midst of the chaos, deva's gaze snapped to varadha, his expression a mask of surprise mingled with a flicker of concern. but before he could react, varadha was no longer bound by chains, his form moving with a speed that defied comprehension.
in the blink of an eye, varadha stood on the other side of the room, his right hand wrapped around illyana's throat with a grip as tight as a vice. the room fell silent, the air thick with tension as varadha's eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality.
deva's expression darkened, a storm brewing in the depths of his obsidian eyes as he watched the scene unfold. there was a moment of hesitation, before deva's voice cut through the silence like a blade.
“varadha, stop,” he commanded, his tone firm but tinged with a hint of urgency. but varadha was beyond reason, his mind consumed by a primal fury that brooked no restraint.
with a swift, brutal motion, varadha forced his still glowing hand into illyana’s mouth and the sound of tearing flesh echoed through the room like a macabre symphony.
in the chilling silence that followed, everyone in the room were frozen in shock. they all stared at varadha with wide-eyed disbelief, their expressions a mixture of horror and astonishment. time seemed to stand still, the air heavy with the weight of the gruesome act that had just transpired.
deva's usually composed demeanour faltered for a fleeting moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he regained his composure, his gaze fixed firmly on varadha.
the guards, trained to withstand the horrors of war, found themselves rendered speechless by the sheer brutality of varadha's actions. they exchanged nervous glances amongst themselves, unsure of how to proceed in the face of such unbridled violence.
and amidst it all, varadha stood with bloodied hands and a gaze that burned with an intensity that bordered on madness. in that moment, they all understood why the night phantom was so thoroughly feared throughout their empire and beyond.
the legends had spoken of their ruthlessness, their unyielding determination, and their ability to strike from the shadows with deadly precision. but it was only now, faced with the raw savagery of varadha's actions, that they truly grasped the depths of their terror.
a chill settled over the room, a grim reminder of the power that lurked within the shadows. and as they looked upon varadha, standing amidst the carnage with a gaze that burned like coals in the darkness, they understood that the night phantom was not a group to be trifled with. they were a force to be reckoned with, a nightmare made flesh, and none were safe from their wrath.
suddenly, rian started laughing, a vicious sound cutting through the silence like a jagged blade slicing through the air. his laughter was guttural, primal, tinged with a hint of madness as he looked upon varadha with a mixture of awe and admiration.
“you've always been the wild one, varadha!” rian exclaimed, his voice filled with a strange mixture of amusement and reverence. “but this... this is something else entirely!”
his laughter echoed off the stone walls of the throne room, a stark contrast to the tension that still hung heavy in the air. the guards exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of how to react to rian's sudden outburst, while deva watched with a furrowed brow, his expression unreadable.
he stopped laughing, his face morphing into a macabre expression of pain, disgust and fury, “befitting end, wouldn’t you agree, varadha?” he glanced towards liora’s form still splayed on the ground in front of him, silent tears cascading down his cheeks even as a soft smile of resignation played on his lips.
varadha's gaze flickered to rian, a mixture of surprise and confusion crossing his features. he had not expected his comrade to find amusement in the bloodshed that had just unfolded. but as he watched rian's laughter continue, unabated and unchecked, even as those silent tears trickled down leisurely, he realised that perhaps there was more to their bond than he had ever imagined.
and as he glanced down, into the lifeless eyes of the western princess, taking in the feeble tongue still twitching, varadha knew that he had crossed a line from which there could be no return.
he had just ripped open the western princess by her mouth.
he was no longer just a skilled assassin, but a figure consumed by a darkness that seemed to emanate from the very depths of his soul.
but he didn’t seem to find it in himself to care about it. because this all reminded him of that fateful day, five years ago, when he had similarly slain an entire estate for daring to touch his family.
varadha tossed the corpse, or parts of the corpse, to the ground, his expression grim as he surveyed the aftermath of his fury and flexed his hands, the pale blue light on his right hand finally dimming to reveal a blue gauntlet.
the gauntlet was a marvel to behold, crafted from shimmering blue metal that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. intricate runes were etched into its surface, glowing softly with a faint azure hue. he was still taken aback by the sheer beauty of its craftmanship, even after owning it for years now. he could feel the power coursing through the gauntlet, a tangible manifestation of his own inner strength and resolve.
with a sense of satisfaction, varadha tightened his grip on the gauntlet, feeling its weight settle comfortably on his hand. it was a weapon forged in the fires of vengeance, a symbol of his unwavering determination to protect those he cared for and seek justice for those who had been wronged.
“nice arcane you got there, varadha,” deva strolled up to varadha, a playful glint in his obsidian eyes as he teasingly remarked, “jealous, were we?”
varadha scowled, his jaw tensing at the accusation. “i was just taking revenge for what that snake did to liora,” he retorted, his voice dripping with defiance, his expression turning into a scowl as deva snickered at the choice of his language. but then, as an afterthought, a faint smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “but yeah, she should not have desired to touch what's mine.”
deva blinked in surprise, his mouth falling open as the meaning behind the words registered in his mind.
but before he could get over his initial shock, varadha twirled his fingers in a dismissive wave, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished into the shadows, rian cradled in his arms. deva chuckled softly, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched them disappear.
“we will meet again, my little tiger,” he murmured to the empty air, a hint of amusement lingering in his tone.