The Dawn of Malice
Chapter 27

Echoes of Innocence

Maniacal laughter. Reverberating more than the sound of a gunshot.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Caerus’s ears rang from the deafening gunshot that echoed in Erasmus’s chambers. Everything around him blurred into a chaotic frenzy, but his eyes remained fixed on Ryker’s face. Shock and desperation were etched on his friend’s features as he witnessed the tragedy unfold.

Caspian, the fierce and loyal friend who had stood by Caerus’s side through countless trials, fell to the floor with a gasp of pain. His hand clutched at his chest, where a dark stain began to spread across his clothing. Wisps of smoke escaped from the barrel of the assailant’s gun, lingering in the air like a ghostly specter.

“No!” Caerus shouted, his voice a raw mixture of disbelief and anguish. He tried to move, to rush to Caspian’s side, but his body felt heavy and sluggish amidst the turmoil in the room. It was as if time itself conspired against him, dragging him down in this moment of crisis.

The billhook clattered to the floor – its significance was forgotten in the face of the immediate danger. Erasmus, despite his age, rushed forward, weaving intricate spellwork in a desperate attempt to heal Caspian’s wound. The scent of burning flesh, was all that Caerus could smell as Erasmus tried frantically to stop the bleeding, cauterizing the wound with the intensity of a small ball of light. Caerus could only watch helplessly as the old wizard’s magic swirled around them, a cloud of golden sparks dissipating into the air.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Caerus’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing like a distant drum. He felt a surge of rage and despair, a fierce need to protect his friend and make the assailant pay for the pain they had inflicted.

The male Laresian that had previously laid on the floor now stood, taking advantage of the growing chaos, he ran to Erasmus’s desk, grabbed the crimson book, and using his Laresian ability, slammed himself against the stained glass window of Marseille’s chambers. The Laresian plummeted down the side of the tower but somehow managed to dig his nails into the stone brick and disappear as he reached the cobblestone streets below.

Ryker’s face contorted with fury – his jaw set in determination. Despite the chaos, he refused to stand idle. In one swift motion, he lunged forward, closing the distance between himself and the assailant. He pulled the woman up by her neck pinning her against the wall, still laughing maniacally.

The room seemed to narrow into a tunnel of hazy shadows, the sounds around Caerus fading into a distant hum. His focus was solely on Caspian, on his friend’s pain, and the life hanging precariously in the balance.

Erasmus’s spell work intensified, casting a warm glow around Caspian’s prone form. The old wizard’s hands trembled, but he fought with every ounce of strength he had left to save Caspian’s life.

Caerus finally managed to move, breaking free from the invisible bonds that held him back. He fell to his knees beside Caspian, his hands trembling as he gently cradled his friend’s head.

“Caspian, hang on,” Caerus whispered urgently, his voice barely above a breath. “You’re going to be okay.”

But even as he spoke the words, doubt crept into his heart. The wound was grave, and time was of the essence. Caerus could feel the precious seconds slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

When the woman’s laughter subsided, she quickly realized that she was at the mercy of Ryker who held her against the wall. Ryker grappled with the assailant, determined to be set free from the artificer’s grasp. The woman fought tooth and nail, kicking, and screaming, eyes a glow with crimson fury, her veins bulging beneath her skin. Caerus knew that Ryker was not one to be underestimated, but the assailant was formidable, and the struggle seemed never-ending.

As the seconds ticked by, a cacophony of emotions flooded Caerus’s mind. He refused to accept defeat, he refused to accept a reality where he would lose his friend. Caerus felt the bond he shared with Caspian. He felt the memories of their adventures and the laughter they had shared cascade around him, like a curtain falling from its hooks.

And then, as if time had finally relented, the world rushed back to its normal speed. The chaos of the room resumed, and Caerus felt the weight of reality crashing down upon him.

Ryker’s relentless determination paid off, and he managed to overpower the assailant, locking her head between his arms, but her strength far exceeded his. And he could feel her slip from his grasp. The danger was neutralized, but not for long.

Erasmus slumped to the floor, drained from his efforts. Caerus could see the exhaustion etched on the old wizard’s face, but also despair. The healing magic had not done its work, and Caspian’s wound continued to bleed out, it took mere moments for the light in his eyes to fade, a husk of a man remained, forever lifeless, forever gone.

Caerus’s eyes flooded with tears, and a weak voice escaped his lips as he saw Caspian’s head slump to the floor.

Caerus and Ryker felt a wave of grief wash over them. The battle was over, but they had lost a friend.

Caerus’s heart pounded in his chest – his vision blurred by rage. The loss of his dear friend had ignited a fury within him that he had never known before. Caerus deftly picked up the billhook from the floor. The weapon felt heavy in his hand, its sharp edge gleaming under the dim light of the chamber.

As he took a step closer to the captive Laresian, his hair seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, and his eyes burned with a crimson intensity. Caerus was consumed by an overwhelming desire for vengeance, to make the person responsible for Caspian’s death pay for their actions.

But just as he was about to strike, a firm grip closed around his wrist, halting his deadly intent. It was Erasmus, looking at him with stern eyes that held both concern and wisdom. The old wizard’s voice was calm but firm as he spoke, “Caerus, violence will not bring Caspian back. Seek justice, not revenge.”

Caerus’s anger threatened to overcome him, but Erasmus’s words pierced through the haze of fury. He realized that Erasmus was right – killing the Laresian would not change what had happened, and it would only lead to more pain and suffering. But he knew his desire to destroy this living piece of filth would end the cycle of pain.

With great effort, Caerus pulled his wrists from Erasmus’s. The crimson light in his eyes glowed brighter, and Erasmus was forced to take a step back, trying to put some sense into Caerus, but to no avail. He could feel Ryker’s fearful gaze upon him, and it pained him to see his friend so frightened.

“Let her go... I can’t forgive her for what she did,” Caerus whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Look away, Ryker.”

Ryker nodded understandingly. “I know, Caerus. But there are other ways to seek justice. We can bring this woman to the authorities, and let them decide her fate.”

Caerus took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He looked at the captive Laresian, who was now cowering in fear. The sight of the woman filled him with anger, but he knew that he couldn’t let her go free.

“You’re right, Ryker,” Caerus said, his voice steadier now. “But I won’t let this monster go. The authorities can do nothing, and she’ll escape to come after me. And she could potentially hurt more people if we let her go.”

“I am nothing to the Laresian empire, just another pawn at their chess game!” the woman protested. “If you let me go, I promise not to pursue you.”

Caerus faltered for only a moment. And in that moment the woman struck, she managed to squirm her arm free and pulled another pistol from her robes, aiming precisely at Caerus’s head. But Caerus was faster, he knocked the weapon away with the curved blade of the billhook. The assassin sent for him looked at all three men in the room, knowing her time had come.

“Now do you understand?” Caerus spoke, his voice as hollow as the cavernous and empty feeling he had inside. Ryker nodded mournfully and Erasmus simply looked away. The artificer let the woman go and Caerus descended upon her, stomping her chest down with his boot. The Laresian assailant squirmed and pushed but to no avail as Caerus plunged the billhook slowly, deliberately, through his opponent’s chest.

As Caerus turned to be with his friend Caspian, Erasmus caught a glimpse of his eyes, red as the blood that trickled from the billhook but filled with anger, despair, and satisfaction. Erasmus mourned the abyssal nature of Caerus’s eyes. Eyes that have lost hope in the world. The eyes of a cynic. The eyes that enjoyed a singular moment of cruelty. Erasmus also knew that Caerus hesitated before ending the woman’s life, though it did not do much to ease his uneasiness toward the young lad, but it was enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Caerus handed the billhook to Ryker, who took it with trembling hands. As he sat beside Caspian’s body, he could no longer hold in the grief he kept, he lost his best friend. And now the world seemed to be much darker than it already was.

A few lonely days had come and gone since Caspian’s passing and the winter’s early morning brought with it a bitter chill that matched the heaviness in Ryker’s heart. Days had passed since the incident at the Civic Athenaeum, and the pain of losing Caspian still felt fresh and raw. Erasmus had managed to clear Caerus’s name, but the burden of guilt and sorrow seemed to be dragging him further into darkness.

Ryker continued his daily visits to Caerus, hoping to offer some comfort, but each time he saw his friend, he could see the toll that grief was taking on him. Caerus had locked himself in a small bedroom that Erasmus had provided, shutting himself off from the outside world.

As the morning sun rose, the sound of solemn footsteps echoed through the Civic Athenaeum. Today marked the funeral of Caspian, and the air was heavy with sadness and loss. The pyre, made of white ash wood, stood tall as a symbol of Caspian’s heroism and courage. He had been a true friend, and Ryker couldn’t help but feel a deep ache in his heart at the thought of saying goodbye.

Ryker’s heart ached as he looked at Caerus, standing apart from the mourners with tears streaming down his face. He could see the pain etched in his friend’s eyes, and it tore at his soul to witness his suffering. He knew that no words could ease the grief that Caerus was feeling, but he wanted to be there for him, to offer support in any way he could.

With a heavy heart, Ryker approached Caerus and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Caerus looked up, and their eyes met, both filled with sorrow. As the funeral procession began, Ryker stayed by Caerus’s side, offering a silent presence of solidarity. The sound of crackling flames filled the air as the pyre was lit. Ryker watched as the white ash wood burned, a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the impermanence of all things.

“Caerus,” Ryker said softly, placing a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m here for you, my friend. Lean on me if you need to.”

Caerus looked up, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He seemed lost as if he were adrift in a sea of sorrow and despair. For a moment, he said nothing, and Ryker simply stood by his side, offering his presence as a silent form of support.

Then, without warning, Caerus broke down. He clung to Ryker, his body trembling with grief, and Ryker held him tight, offering a sturdy shoulder to lean on. The weight of Caspian’s death was too much for Caerus to bear alone, and Ryker vowed to be there for him through this difficult time.

A moment passed, and Caerus was able to compose himself, they stood together, shoulder to shoulder, amidst the sea of strangers who mourned and celebrated the life of a brave soldier. The flames of the funeral pyre danced in the distance.

As the funeral procession came to an end, and the last embers of the pyre glowed, Ryker knew that Caspian’s memory would live on in their hearts forever. Caerus’s body trembled with grief, when the logs fell, and ember sparks lifted with the air. Ryker watched his friend closely, Caerus looked ever-so fragile as if the wind could knock him down. Still, they stood there together, their tears mingling with the falling snow.

“Come on, Caerus,” Ryker said gently, looking into his friend’s tearful eyes. “Let’s remember Caspian for the hero he was and replace strength in his memory.”

Caerus nodded, his gaze still clouded with sorrow, but a flicker of determination shone through. Together, they walked away from the funeral site, knowing that their journey was far from over. They had lost a dear friend, but they had each other, and that would be enough to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the land, Ryker and Caerus walked side by side, leaning on each other for support, and replaceing solace in the bond of friendship that had been forged in the fires of grief and loss. They knew that Caspian would always be with them, guiding them on their path, and they would honor his memory by facing the future without him.