The Oracle's eyes flickered with unease, knowing the danger that hung between these men and the girl they fought over.
Shadows peeled from the Veil like living smoke behind them, twisting into forms that should not exist, half-human, half-nightmare, eyes glowing red as the Blood Moon fed them. They hissed, jerking forward with clawed hands reaching for flesh.
Rhiannon's flame flared instinctively, silver and alive, coiling around her palms. The creatures recoiled, yet the fire also drew them like moths to flame.
Beside her, Valerius's body shifted, the scent of iron and storm thickening the air. His bones strained beneath his skin as if a beast clawed to escape.
"Stay behind me," he growled.
Rhiannon snapped her gaze to him. "I do not stand behind anyone."
The first creature lunged. Silver fire and Fangs collided in a ballet of destruction. Shadows hissed, blood sprayed, and the tide seemed endless.
Rhiannon realized, with a rush of truth, that they could not survive apart.
Another shriek ripped through the night — the first creature lunged.
Rhiannon moved first, her flame arcing in a sharp sweep. The fire sliced through shadow-flesh, splitting it into ash and smoke. But two more replaced it instantly, reaching with clawed hands. One seized her arm — and seared instantly, the flame burning it into nothing.
She almost smiled. Almost.
Until she saw the tide.
Dozens of them. Maybe more. Crawling, slithering, forming from mist and shadows. They were not here for death alone. They were here for her.
Valerius struck then. with his moon-fire blade he ripped through the first wave, his movements fast, brutal, efficient. His presence was violence incarnate, but there was a strange grace beneath the savagery, like the rhythm of a predator that had killed a thousand times before.
Blood sprayed. Shadows howled. And still, more came.
Rhiannon's chest burned — from the fear, and the brutal scene she saw as Valerius swept through the hoards of shadow creatures.
Her voice cut across the chaos. "We cannot fight them apart."
Valerius tore through another creature, his golden gaze flashing toward her. "And why should I listen a flame sworn to destroy me?"
She lifted her hands, fire wreathing her in silver. "Because prophecy or not — if we fall here, there will be nothing left for either of us."
The words hung between them, heavy, undeniable.
Another wave surged forward. Rhiannon and Valerius turned — back to back now, shadows closing in. His blade gleamed. Her flame burned hotter.
For a breath, the world seemed to still — two enemies bound by necessity, caught in the center of a storm written in the blood of the moon.
"Then so be it," Valerius snarled.
Rhiannon's lips curved, firelight kissing her face. "A pact, then."
Caspian seeing the endless swarm that still kept on coming, stood his ground beside the Oracle.
They each fought side by side against the hoard of creatures that kept flooding in from the Veil.
Valerius took on his Original form.
The air trembled as he shed the fragile human guise, skin paling further into a ghostly hue, veins glowing faintly with ancient power. Muscles coiled and lengthened beneath taut flesh, bones stretching with a silent, terrifying grace. His eyes flared golden, then red, reflecting the Blood Moon's fire, twin beacons of predatory hunger. Teeth elongated into glinting fangs, sharper than any mortal steel, and nails thickened into deadly talons that scraped sparks from stone.
Shadows themselves seemed to recoil, curling around him in fearful respect, as his cloak of darkness fell away to reveal the vampire in its primal, original glory — towering, fangs and exquisitely lethal. His hair, once tamed crimson, flowed like midnight currents, and the scent of iron and ancient blood surrounded him like a storm. Every breath exhaled a heat that scorched the night, every movement radiated centuries of perfected combat, predation, and cruelty.
Then, with a single, coiled step, he unfurled into the battlefield. Muscles rippled in unnatural perfection, wings of shadow flickered at his back, and the ground seemed to acknowledge his presence. The enemies before him faltered, sensing instinctively the predator that had returned — not merely a warrior, but the original form of terror, beauty, and death incarnate.
He moved, and the night obeyed. Like instinct the shadow creatures stood still in their tracks. They recognized the power, the sole person who had kept them at bay for countless eons in the veil.
"Rrr-kkthh… Vrrnn-thrrk! Kthhh-zhrrr… Brraaaak-rrr! Zhrrk-kkthh… Tsshh-vrrn!" The shadows' trill struck the air like falling meteors. Each vibration tore across the void, echoing a single, undeniable message: 'I challenge you, Crimson Demon.'
Seeing Valerius take on his original form and ready to take the challenge, Caspian took the chance to flee as everyone else was poised in awe, fear at the brutality and pure rage raved the battleground.
Just as everyone was watching the onslaught happen.
The temple's statues started glowing once more, and in that pulled Rhiannon into yet another vision. A vision not of her own making but this time she saw Valerius in his original form fighting in the veil.
Time had no meaning in the Veil. Centuries stretched like black rivers, each moment bleeding into the next, punctuated only by the endless screams of the damned.
Valerius ran through the obsidian plains in his vampire form, muscles rippling beneath dark cloak, eyes blazing golden like molten gold. His blade tearing into shadows that writhed and hissed, their forms ever-shifting — sometimes human, sometimes monstrous, always impossible, always hungry.
Each creature that lunged was an echo of his torment, born from the Veil's malice and the memory of betrayal. He tore through them, fangs snapping, fire coursing faintly along his spine, a primal power feeding off the Blood Moon that never set inside the Veil.
Yet for every shadow he destroyed, two more emerged, crawling from the mist, slithering from the fissures in the ground, whispering curses older than kingdoms.
Krraaa-thhh-zhhhh...Tsshhh-krrth-vrrn....!!
Pain and exhaustion were meaningless here, his body healed as quickly as it was torn, his mind sharpened by relentless combat. Every strike was instinct and memory intertwined — centuries of hunting, killing, surviving alone.
The oracle standing behind Rhiannon noticed her standing stiff and still.
placing her hand on Rhiannon's back she sensed that she was in a trance.
" Eamon, head priest, take Rhiannon and the rest of the order and leave the temple," she said as she handed Rhiannon over to the head priest, " I shall remain here and see to it none of the monsters leave this temple."