Task v. Lorenor

[Taskmienster]

The world around me slowed its sudden chanting, the minute finally done ticking. The clockwork was back to its slow rhythm, a comforting tone. It was not to last as my solace and console. The manic cackling of the ghoul beneath me started to rise through my arena, making my skin crawl and forcing me to look over the edge of the small beam I balanced on. I could see the deep sockets of the devious opponent below me. His head was turned to mine, but I wasn’t sure if he was looking at me or through me. The mad laughter became a ravenous growl, and the beast began to climb the chain that I had so easily used as a means to take a higher vantage point.

Cold steel called for blood, each dagger feeling empty and useless without the edge used to kill. I leaned as much as I could to look over the side, trying to find a point to attack. Networks of dehalr and titanium bars were in the way of my easy kill. If I threw the dagger it would be like a fly caught in a spider’s web, what was on the other side was hidden by the elaborate shield. I had to wait, and watch. My opening for the dagger to come to use showed as suddenly as the foe did. My arm flew forward, the dagger was released, but the snarling monster was not going to be so easily deterred.

As if my ability to use a dagger for precise kills was on par with the newest would-be thief, the blade went wild. I could see it flash in the dull blue light that filtered through the massive clock face, just over Lorenor’s shoulder and off into the distance. No time was left for me to pull more weapons for a counter-offensive; no room was present to dodge to either side. Instead of any movement away from the bar, my instincts suddenly took over.

The claws slashed across my faux-leather jacket, the thin material no match for the sharp weapons. Even with my momentum pushing away from my opponent, it was not enough to escape. Blood blossomed across my chest as the cleanly cut wounds opened. The three lines were as perfectly opened as if with razors, my body slowly realizing it was open before the blood began to bloom. My hands came to my torso and I could feel the opened white shirt that was visible through the unzipped jacket. I took another lung backwards when my opponent struck again, just enough to dodge the attack.

My momentum suddenly stopped as I felt my back clash into one of the many support beams that created the infrastructure. I barely stopped my head from following through with the movement of my body and clashing with the titanium. It would have been the end through a blunder made in my own designed arena. Instead of letting the thing get closer and without any means of escape to elude another dagger clawed strike, I took a much bigger step… or leap more appropriately.

From the second story beam of dehlar I fell to the floor below. Any other person would have probably destroyed the bones in their legs; their knees would buckle and crack if they remained straight legged, shatter in half if they bent them. Neither terrible fate would come to me though, because I had multiple codes that were constantly in place. Strength, speed, and constitution were all nearly doubled on my body; the fall would be nothing but a small step.

Two daggers fell to either hand and I turned as soon as my converses touched the solid floor. My eyes caught sight of the beast that waited above me, and I hoped that by dropping I had not given him an advantage. He was above me now, and the height was significant should he have any ranged magic’s at his command. I doubted it though, since he had used none in the battle. All I needed to do was wait for him to fall and launch a dagger or two when he was on his way down. Well placed weapons were going to finish what the Knights of Dawn and the treacherous Ai’Bron had forced upon me.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Unexpectedly, or perhaps with greater skill than he would have thought, Lorenor cut the handsome boy. Blood streaked everywhere. He could feel the substance flowing down his hand and forearm as the chest was split open. The injury he'd inflicted upon his opponent was a serious one, and the youth was able to take the injury rather well. Lorenor admired the skill and potential that the youth possessed. He was prepared to press the attack when once again, the handsome boy moved with his advanced reflexes and made a leap away from the mutant.

Lorenor saw that and turned to look at the general direction that his opponent moved to. Gears turned in the clock-tower for all eternity. The mutant took a moment to analyze his surroundings quite carefully. He saw the giant gears turning for a second or two, staring at the gear whilst he caught his breath. His lungs and heart pumped acid through his vessel. Lorenor looked at his opponent and immediately suspected some sort of a trap.

Though he was eager to get this battle over with so that he might earn his freedom, the mutant wasn't trying to telegraph any mistakes. He turned to look back at the chains that he'd just climbed a few moments earlier, and decided to err on the side of caution. Grabbing the chain, he could feel the metallic texture against the palm of his real hand. His hand gripped the chain tightly and he pulled himself against the object, quickly climbing down with his enhanced reflexes and speed.

As the time wore on, his regeneration process began to kick in. Older wounds started to heal naturally, but fresh wounds would take a longer amount of time to heal. He made it to the bottom level, on even footing with Ethan. Lorenor was slowly regaining his confidence as a warrior which would be a big factor in the rest of the match. He knew he was fighting for survival. His feet on solid ground, the mutant looked upon the general direction of Ethan. Once again, Ethan had the mysterious air about his person that showed up in the Antifirmanent. Seeing the bizarre hallucination, the mutant was unable to tell the code apart from physical reality. Shaking his head, he tried to focus on the match.

He covered his distance between his last position and Ethan's current position. "This will soon be over for ill or well." Lorenor said out loud to nobody in particular. He was within earshot distance of Ethan by that time. The mutant moved further and was soon in front of the other boy after a moment longer. Lorenor clutched at the injury in his arm, it would be a while before that injury regenerated. Despite it being a minor injury. Lorenor stared at his opponent for a long moment. "Your move Ethan."

[Taskmienster]

“Is this some sort of chess game with live pawns? I didn’t realize I was on a chessboard, playing as the queen with my opponent a lone king. It’s an unfair advantage, but at least I have it.” I looked at the man when his booted feet touched the solid ground, my thoughts keeping time with my body’s movement. I was at a standstill. Though I could move freely across this mechanical board, I could not seem to trap the man in a corner long enough. He was a well versed foe, his ability in battle was probably much better than my own. His weapons were base, feral, and wickedly well adapted to close combat. Mine were ranged weapons, despite their diminutive size and normally close proximity uses, and I had nothing to back myself up.

“That it will.” My response was short, no time or concern with thinking about some intelligent bantering shot back at Lorenor. I was in no mood to talk, barely took notice of my foe talking except for the fact that it was a low growl amidst a world of sharp clicks and taps. In the cacophony of precise timing Lorenor’s voice was a dissimilar tone that would catch even the most focused of warriors.

Inches were the only thing I had when it came to either throwing the blades or if I gained the distance quickly there was only three inches beyond my reach to score the blow. I quickly wished I had something more useful than the spells, or code hacks as I knew them. Another few seconds passed as I watched the silent man, his words still ringing in the back of my head. My fingers milked the twin daggers; I had lost count of how many I had used and how many I had left. There was a decision to make, either commit fully or back down and let him attempt to take an advantage. I did not want the former of the two options.

My options were limited, but I had to go with the bland and probably expected tactics that I knew best. I took aim at either shoulder and let loose both daggers together. The movement made me cringe even as the daggers were being released. The wound across my chest would not close like they would for most characters with regenerative capabilities. I was forced to deal with the pain. My heart raced, allowing more blood to spill from the three long gashes. My chest was rising and falling quickly, my lungs burning with the pain that was but an inch away from the weak organs within.

I did not let another dagger fall to my hands, hoping that the man would close after the daggers were dealt with. My back was to the grand milk-white clockface, probably a mere yard away from it. I wasn’t sure exactly how close I was, but I was certain it was behind me. That was enough for me to take comfort in. I tried to slow my breath, breath through my nose and exhale through my mouth. Those cigarettes I was so used to smoking were affecting my pixilated body far more than they ever had before. It was worrisome, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

After his brisk walk towards Ethan, the mutant was prepared for whatever fate might come his way. Ethan was in charged of Lorenor's future, the mutant understood that fact well. However, he wasn't about to let the youth simply steal away all of his bravado. He still had to at least act the part of a veteran warrior. For all intents and purposes, the match was over before it had even begun. His long and epic struggle against the Knights of Dawn was coming to a close, and he would have peace.

Hearing his own words travel across the void, Lorenor felt the backdrop symphony of the gears more than he heard it. It made him want to grind his teeth and a migraine headache from all the noise was developing. This place of machinery and technology represented a sort of hell to the mutant. He knew that the Knights couldn't have pinned him against a worse opponent if they had tried. From what Lorenor had observed in his quick battle so far of the youth, the boy seemed focus on his throwing knives and ranged techniques.

Visualizing the next portion of the fight, the mutant tried to guess where his opponent would move next. One of the possibilities was the idea that his foe might once again attempt to throw a dagger at him. Lorenor had an analytical mind, but he kept his abilities in check. He learned quickly, but he enjoyed making mistakes to throw his opponents off. I know how to take hits with style. He thought to himself as he analyzed the situation. Though he preferred to react in battles, this time he had to take a proactive stance.

Seeing the subtle muscle movements even before his opponent made them, the mutant prepared for the worst. A part of him expected to see some new trick that Ethan was capable of. Some grand ace-in-the-hole. That was not meant to be the case. A dual set of daggers were suddenly tossed in his direction. The throws were somewhat ugly in nature, and the mutant knew that his opponent had better marksman skills than this.

Indeed, the blades were launched quickly for the mutant's shoulders. He saw them coming in, and even though they were in mid-air, he could sense the hungry metal coming his way. Reacting purely on instinct, the mutant decided to take yet another hit in order to obtain a strategic advantage. He turned on his heels quickly in the direction of the closer of the two daggers and suddenly lunged for one of the daggers in an attempt to pull the dagger out of the air. He was hoping to capture the dagger. If successful he had another move planned. The second blade scored an easy mark, to analysts observing the battler, the hit would have almost been pathetic.

Lorenor hissed in pain as the sharp blade struck him on his side. It penetrated his obliques sinking in deep. He ignored the dagger for now as he focused on capturing the other dagger that was coming at him. Where he had no weapons, he potentially stood to be armed and face the youth with more suitable gear. The mutant never removed his eyes from the youth's position.

Black blood trickled down the side of his body in rivulets. Lorenor was growing weaker. He was running out of time.

[Taskmienster]

I know it was lackluster, boring, and altogether expected of me to hurl daggers. I know that my opponent was probably expecting something better, something more befitting the quick pace of the cat and mouse conflict that had developed. More could not be brought to bear though. I was losing patience as quickly as a short fuse, and my frustration was about to be loosed like a small firecracker. Nothing more could be compared to what I had in store for Lorenor, nothing more than a miniscule explosion with little to no adverse affects to be displayed. Daggers were only so useful against something that never stopped approaching. I felt like a lion tamer with only a chair, hoping the four legs of my wooden barrier would be enough to hold back the malnourished and desperate king of beasts across the cage.

The blades flew straight, though with little power. Perhaps the clawed fingers that had raked my chest had impacted me in a way that I had not comprehended. My heightened constitution was wearing away quickly, from the tearing that should have removed my shoulder from its socket when I grabbed the chain to the fall I had purposely taken in order to escape the blows I would have received. I had never reached the limit in a battle against another, but it seemed that the codes could wear away and even return me to another simple and useless child with spiked hair and silly daggers.

The fact that my base of power was slipping slowly was expressed in the blades that flew. One impacted with Lorenor’s chest, the other was snatched from the air. I could hardly believe it had happened. The small blade was protruding slightly from his chest, not deep enough to puncture the lungs or bypass the rib-cage. The second that was caught; I cursed under my breath and watched him turn it around in his ugly hands. It was a delicate tool when in my hands, a beautiful blur of quicksilver when thrown. In the meaty grasp of my opponent it seemed to be a tool for a clumsy surgeon, as if it had become the cleanest scalpel at hand pulled from an old rusty toolbox.

I pried my eyes from the ghoul’s hand and my beloved blade and let them focus as much as I could through slightly watering eyes on his body. Blood dripped from his weak, walking carcass and I could do nothing more than cringe for the umpteenth time. His smell drifted through the still air, making the metallic tinge that seeped from my own chest pale in comparison. I had rummaged through the relatively clean sewers of Raiaera, the feted mire beneath Radasanth, and even been within arm’s reach of an undead necromancer… yet none of them could compare to my foe’s stench at even a proximity as large as we had.

“For fucks sake!” I cried out, winded and nearly whining. The man had eluded death, despite the condition that the underhanded Ai’Bron had allowed him to come in. He had followed after me every turn I took in order to gain an advantageous position. Finally, as if to toss salt across an open wound, he had pulled my own weapon from the air and turned it against me. I took a step back and let one arm clutch at my chest, the other fall to my side almost limply. “You don’t fucking die do you? You want this Warrior position so bad? I’ve had enough of this constant fighting, unnecessary violence and stupid fuckin’ games. If I had any idea of how this place and the ones running it worked, I’d guess they need our blood spilling on the ground in order to power this shitty ass illusion.

Let’s get it over with. This battle’s gone on for-ev-er.”

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Suddenly taken aback by the youth's remark, Lorenor blinked in surprise. Knowing that there was a reason for everything, the mutant knew why the Knights of Dawn hunted him. He knew why the hierarchy of the Dajas Pagoda despised him. He knew. There were reasons, there were always reasons. Lorenor shook his head. He's giving up? Why? He has me beat! Deciding on his next course of action very carefully, Lorenor understood what this was all about. For the mutant cared very little about the Warrior position. He would spit in the Hierarchy's face if he could. He'd shit on the Dajas Pagoda given a chance. Then why? Why was the mutant fighting so hard.

And the thoughts came immediately. He thinks I want the Warrior position that badly. This isn't about that. This is about my freedom! At first, Ethan liked the boy and respected the handsome youth's cunning. Now though, seeing the youth cowering like a rodent, Lorenor felt disgust in his stomach. He spat blood on the ground even while he was feeling his injuries regenerating. His powers, slowly returning to his command.

Visions passed through his mind as he thought about the pain he'd suffered at the hands of the Knights of Dawn. In their Interrogation Chambers, Lorenor V'Halkulus had suffered unspeakable atrocities. All in the name of the Empire. All in an attempt to get the mutant to betray some intelligence about the Red Hand. Lorenor would have none of it. So he prayed to N'Jal for strength during the dark times. He struggled with his sanity. Struggled with the pain. Scars were visible upon his vessel as an testament to the suffering he'd undergone. Whereas the scars regenerated of their own volition, the mutant knew that they would never fully heal.

Holding the dagger in his hand Lorenor understood that Ethan deserved at least a partial explanation. This was about his war with the Knights of Dawn. His hated enemy. Those bastards, are self righteous and followers of the All-Thayne. They now follow Draconus. Warrior-Paladins. They abhor the Living Dark. But we shall emerge victorious. "You think I care about the Warrior Position?" Lorenor began. "We have begun to know one another rather intimately through bloodshed. I must say I would have taken you for a much brighter young man than what you have shown me. The Warrior Position?! HAH! The Hierarchy can feast on rotten swine. I am not here for the Warrior Position. I am here for my freedom! The Knights have promised me freedom should I emerge victorious from this encounter. I chose you for a reason Ethan. You are the one who can set me free from the bonds of eternal punishment. Death is not something to be feared, death is a release from the turmoil and petty wars in the Firmanent." Lorenor still held the dagger in his hand.

And seeing his opponent's weakness revealed, he rotated the weapon quickly. Showing a tremendous burst of aggression and speed, Lorenor lashed out at Ethan. He held the weapon in his hand with incredible skill, his hand lashed out like a whip. Focusing on one distinct purpose, Lorenor sought to bring this battle to a close so he could be free of the bastard Knights forever. It was a win-win situation. Lorenor would free Ethan of his suffering, and Lorenor would free himself of his suffering. Aiming at the boy's throat, Lorenor waited to see what would happen next. With his strength returning, the mutant would be able to fight the injured youth on more even footing.

[Taskmienster]

My words were shot with a venomous tone, his were returned with the tone of madness. I could hear the sanity cracking and shattering through his response, and yet felt nothing for him. This battle was a mockery of the Pagoda’s institution from beginning to end. It was sanctioned by the Ai’Bron, forced upon both of us by the Knights of Dawn – however they were, I had no true knowledge of them. The words that were spoken told me something far different though. As if the entire bout between me and the disgusting aberration of a human was set up before hand, certain pieces were removed from the board to give him an already losing side to attempt his checkmate with. I, on the other hand, was offered only a single queen to challenge the man with.

“Bloodshed is no way to try and get to know another person. I don’t fight people and kill them to make friends, I do it to get money and pass the time. If I kill you, Lorenor, I want nothing to do with you after this battle. If you kill me, and I lose this position, I want nothing to do with the Pagoda again either. In neither situation is the ‘intimate knowledge’ that we have gained of each other through fighting gonna mean jack shit to me…”

His words made my mind race, though nothing of what he said sparked a particularly intelligent light-bulb. More or less I was arguing with myself when he was talking, since internal dialogue meant nothing to my opponent despite how much I wanted to bicker aloud what I was thinking. Starting a back and forth monologue at the end of the battle would do little more than slow the pacing down, and I wanted to keep it moving as much as possible. The slower it went, the less I was going to have the advantage.

One last ace up my sleeve came to mind when his ‘fearless of death’ rant finally came to an end. I did not fear death, since the world of Althanas was nothing more than an easily manipulated game. The pixilated body that I was seen in, the punk with the piercing from another world, could be recreated in the case of a permanent death. What caught my attention though was that despite the fact that we were in the Pagoda and would be revived… yet another opponent had decided to give a rant about not fearing death. Death in the Pagoda and Citadel was like losing a game; you just loaded your last save and continued on without repercussions anyway.

He moved with an unnatural speed that could have potentially rivaled my own. I did not take the time to see if he was as quick as I was, I didn’t give a fuck about it. My attention span for battles and immortal foes had already ended and the fuse was about to hit the powder. I waited for the last second to move. The dagger sliced at my throat and I ducked and shoved my feet against the cold wooden floor. It missed easily, as if my opponent did not have knowledge of close combat enough to know that anything above the neck was the most difficult place to aim a killing blow. My back brushed the outside of his leg and I spun my body with the momentum.

Before Lorenor could turn I clapped my hands together and let my code for peace-shattering waves of sound free. They pulsed from my point forward, towards the back of my opponent. Such a small distance between us could make the usefulness of the code dangerous. A popped eardrum and loss of equilibrium would be enough to allow me the final advantage that I needed to finish the battle. However, my opponent was not the only one that was affected by the air-splitting crash. Behind him the clocktower’s face cracked, quaked, and exploded. The milk-white glass spilling deviously shaped glass forward slightly before being hurled into the open air.

I watched the glass instead of my opponent, seeing the massive black hands fall with the frosted glass. I had added large shards of glass to the soft flecks of snow that continuously fell on the world outside the metallic coffin. My body surged forward in an attempt to use both my increased speed and strength to grapple the ghoul and take his body with mine through the newly created opening. If I was going to die and give the man his freedom, and possibly my rank as Warrior, I wanted to be sure that he was going to do the same. There would be no easy choice to make by either the Pagoda Ai’Bron or the Knights of Dawn at the end of the fight.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

And something happened when Lorenor went to stab his foe. Just when it seemed that Ethan had all but given up, the mutant missed! He actually missed with the blade in his hand! Lorenor felt furious at such a development.

Lorenor prepared to do something else, when the air suddenly exploded. With a mysterious thunderclap conjured by the boy, Lorenor's head felt like it was about to explode. To make matters worse, his sensory grid went black for a moment thanks to the intense sound conjured up by the boy. I can't sense anything! Fuck! Lorenor yelled to himself and all notion of detection went out of the window. As the sound dissipated, Lorenor's senses came back to normal a split second later. Lorenor had no ears, he needed them not.

However, his enhanced sensory array picked up various external phenomenon with a higher degree of acuteness. Blood trickled from the sides of the mutant's lips. Also, the slits where a nose should be bled freely as well. Lorenor's eyes were darkened with the pain and fury he felt. The mutant attempted to react but that split-second had given his opponent an almost unneeded advantage. The fucker cheated! Damn him! He didn't know if he should be hating Ethan at the moment, or admire the boy's craftiness. Either way it went, Lorenor was in trouble.

Helter skelter came coming through after that. Glass broke everywhere, some of the gears stopped turning cause of the sonic boom, and other resonating effects happened to take place. Lorenor felt the youth suddenly make a grabbing attempt. On instinct, and on pure instinct alone, Lorenor asserted his muscle control and tightened his calves and hamstrings. He was moved maybe a pace or two to in the direction that Ethan was attempting to push him in, but Lorenor weighed two hundred pounds. Yes, he was injured. Yes, he was stressed out and tired. But Ethan weighed a mere one hundred and fifty five pounds compared to the small package that Lorenor was.

The mutant had uncovered his advantage. He could use his superior weight and smaller size advantage to adequate purpose. As Ethan came in close to attempt to tackle him backwards, the mutant felt the man grab him. It was like trying to move a brick wall. Whereas Lorenor's Endurance was not the greatest on the planet, it was enough to give him a slight edge. He stood his ground, he was not pushed any further than those couple of paces.

Once Lorenor regained his balance, it was back to work. Lorenor had the experience advantage on Ethan. Somehow, he'd managed to keep his hold on the dagger. With Ethan's back exposed to the mutant, Lorenor stabbed downward at a forty-five degree angle to the bottom spinal column area of the youth. If successful, Lorenor would then attempt to rip the youth's spine right out of its housing. Lorenor was that furious at the moment. He yelled in anger as he proceeded with his counter. Ethan had surprised him, but he would not make that same mistake again.

[Taskmienster]

The last ditch effort of mine was barely noticeable; no matter what I threw it seemed that my opponent was too strong. My clash that tore through the air did to my opponent’s senses the same as it did to the glass tower face. He was visually hindered for the slightest of moments, and his body was obviously affected. The blood that poured from his nose and lips was just another crimson smear across an already battered frame. As I rushed him I almost felt pity, as if I was sending wave after wave of rocks at an already shattered bastion. There was something more to this fortress though that I had not seen before sending in the frontline troops, something that took its turn to show as soon as I clashed with defenses.

Lorenor was stout and packed with muscle, enough so that the difference between strength was nearly unfelt. I hit him, hard. My arms wrapped around his rancid form, and the fact that I was not taking him with me into the chilling winter air came second to the sudden realization that the stench on him would take forever to remove. I could feel it rub off on my clothes, on my jacket, and on my skin. A resolution to the conflict took a backseat to the screaming that roared through my mind.

Together we slid slightly, his boots gripping the wooden floors whereas my trackless black converse could not grip to continue the push through. My head throbbed when I struck his, an instant headache that accompanied the stench that made my eyes tear up. I slowly stopped pushing, my mind taking over my thoughts and screaming to tell me to force myself to get away. The momentum barely stopped before the cold steel dagger pushed through my jacket, my skin, and tapped the spin before shoving through.

Suddenly my body was cold, I was at peace mentally, but the hair across me stood on end. Stumbling away I reached towards my own traitorous blade, missing it twice before I gave up on removing it. I blinked a few times, hoping that I could get the tears to fall instead of blocking my vision. From a standpoint that was like looking down on my dying, computer simulated body, I watched my knees buckle and falter. There was nothing left to do but let my body fall.

The gears that created the inner workings of my arena shifted in unnatural ways, grinding and tearing at each other. The minute attempted to tick, but all that came was a gut-wrenching sound of mechanics wallowing in their sorrow. All of the noises were muted as my eyes closed and I let go of caring about the battle, the Pagoda and its monks, or the reason that Lorenor had been forced to fight. My position was up for grabs; it was going to be left to the Ai’Bron to decide who the victor was and would take or keep the Warrior position.

Great fight man, it was thoroughly enjoyable. This is my last post. I’m not going to request anything special for spoils, but I’ll make a note after you submit it for judging regarding what we discussed if you don’t want to… or just agree about the dagger and ending thing as we talked about. I’d like moderate commentary, perhaps we can go with a Workshop? It’d be interesting, but in the end it’s up to you.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

All bunnies cleared by Kyle. And dude, yeah it was an awesome match, good luck to you!

Blood spilled through the air, and Lorenor heard his opponent moan in pain. The mutant held the body for a moment even as he was ripping the spinal column out with the dagger and his own hand. A sickening noise traveled through the air and the clock-tower seemed to grow strangely quiet as the symphony of noise died down. There seemed to be a mourning in the air as the clock tower finally went dead paying homage to its master. Several screws and gears came loose in the tower. Finally unable to turn to the next second, the clock hands broke of their own volition with a hideous snap at the same time that Lorenor finished ripping the youth's spinal cord out.

Holding the spinal column in his hand, the mutant saw the extent of damage he had caused to the youth. Lorenor shook his head. What a fucking waste. The mutant thought to himself as he realized he'd just killed Ethan. Dropping the body on the ground, the mutant felt a infernal hunger rise up from the underbelly of his gut.

Like some fell beast, Lorenor knew the time to feed had come. The grotesque task at hand came next. His face mutated to that of feeding position, as muscles and bone stretched and popped. Lorenor knelt down to the body and began to gorge himself upon the youth's flesh. All of the edible portions of the boy were consumed, with the heart being consumed last as a whole. Drinking the blood of the youth and eating the flesh of the youth, many memories passed through the mutant's head. Memories that were not his own, but rather the boys'.

Lorenor ate his fill and soon there was only a carcass on the floor. The dark feast helped to rejuvenate the mutant's power. Wounds regenerated at a much quicker pace and his strength returned. Lorenor's face was covered in blood. He wiped himself on his arm and prepared to have a confrontation with the knights when the doors of the clock-tower swung loudly open.

"Lorenor!" Came the booming voice of the Knight Guard. A small squad of about five fully armored guards came into the room. The leader of the squad was furious, and a shadow crossed his face. They were all in full plate armor, material depended on rank-and-file. The sound of heavy boots crashing against the floor filled the large chamber as they walked towards Lorenors' person and Ethan's body. Lorenor took a step back. He still had the dagger in his hand, and reached on the ground for another dagger.

"Halt! Lorenor. Hold your position." The Guard commanded and approached the mutant. "We have come to report your sentence to you." The Guard said with a note of annoyance in his voice. "My sentence--!? Haven't you've already done enough to me?" Shaking his head the Guard continued. "As an enemy of Corone you are hereby sentenced to freedom. Freedom at the blade!" And before Lorenor could protest, the Guard's sword was unsheathed with a quick motion. Lorenor's senses went blank as his head was decapitated from its body and rolled slowly down to the floor, bouncing a few times. The body then fell down to its knees first, then upon the ground to accompany Ethan in death. "Sentence served. Enjoy your freedom." The Guard hissed and the squad left off into the night. A few moments later, the mutant's body burned up in a burst of mystical fire and became ash.

**The End**