Lore of Dread- Finale

Finale

This is the finale of Lore of Dread. Dread’s epic saga is coming to an end.

The arrow that was fired at Dread slammed into a tree next to him and fell to the cold ground.

Dread turned to the direction the arrow came from, only to find a hooded figure coming at him, metal knife in hand. Dread moved swiftly to the side.

Under his hood Dread could barely make out a scar that stretched across his face. This was Phrix’s signature.

The scar that could only belong to Phrix represented one ominous Hallow who chose to fight back. Phrix fired more arrows into at Dread, but somehow he maintained the ability of dodging them.

That Hallow…was Dread. Many years ago, the two met, and fought, and were equal in strength. The unsettled feud the two had was seemingly everlasting, and evergreen. With no end, no resolution, except one would live to kill, the other would live in fear. That is why Dread could not bear the thought of his two mortal enemies, Erebus and Phrix, working together.

Albeit many years had passed without fighting, Dread could still kill.

He fired a single arrow at Phrix. He collapsed to the ground struggling to stand up and fight back, or so it appeared.

Phrix used his remaining energy to charge himself at Dread. He heard him mutter the words, “You could never escape me. All Hallows fall, in due time.”

But this did not anger Dread, it motivated him. Dread’s growing passion to end his old quarrels and prove himself as a Hallow was released with a single motion of a knife. Dread moved out-of-the-way of Phrix’s knife and thrust the arrow Dread held into Phrix’s chest.

Phrix fell to the ground, struggling to stand up and fight back. Dread ran to Estrid, choosing not to watch Phrix’s inevitable demise.

Though what Dread saw not only shocked him, but left every part of him pulsing with hatred.

She had been hit by Phrix’s arrow. Her side was pierced by the sharp metal spike.

To Dread’s surprise, and dismay, because he cared too much about Estrid staying safe, she stood up.

“Keep running Dread,” she murmured softly. “I can make my way back to the cabin. I will be safe. And I will tell every one of your plight, so your actions tonight are not forgotten, no matter what happens.”

It sounded to Dread like she expected something to go awfully wrong.

“The Spires are at the end of the clearing. Go and stop Erebus.”

Dread was beginning to wish he took Erebus’ admonition against stopping him as Estrid gradually but somehow gracefully made her way back to the cabin, ignoring Phrix’s motionless body. If he did Estrid would be unharmed, he would not be a murderer, his life wouldn’t be in danger

Or would it? Would Estrid still be harmed?

At the end of the forest Dread could see the Spires, and he could make out a figure that appeared to belong to Erebus. He stood next to many large stone pillars. Each of the remarkable pieces of architecture had an assortment of undistinguishable designs carved into them.

The Spires were lined up a strange formation, but appeared to be in the shape of something like a circle, with seemingly unnecessary spires located in seemingly random places. At the centre of the formation was a patch of concrete, cracking and overgrown by vegetation.

Dread launched one of his remaining arrows at Erebus. To Dread’s astonishment he deflected it by the single motion of moving his sword.

The sword of Creed.

Dread attacked Erebus with all his strength in hopes of smiting him with his own bare hands.

Then, through channeling the enigmatic energy he wielded as a Hallow, he struck the sword. Energy radiated from his hand.

But Dread failed to realize what Erebus was doing at that moment. Maybe it was his anger, or maybe he was just unlucky, but Erebus work had already begun.

The shards of the sword flew around him.

A light flashed, blinding Dread’s vision. When Dread opened his eyes again he saw a dull gray mist surround him.

Dread knew what had happened. He just made the mistake that cost him his life.

The sword acted as a gateway between the worlds. When the sword was damaged during the process, they could not travel any further, or back to where they began. It was like getting a broken key lodged in a keyhole. And anything the sword came in contact with was stuck.

The collision of the strength Dread and the word exuded caused a rift in the realms.

Now Dread was stuck between worlds there. Trapped between two worlds.

Dread tried to turn his head but it felt like he was pushing against clay. He saw the shadow of the oak trees in The Forest of Zoticus.

As he turned his head the other way he saw silhouettes of children laughing outside of houses. They were enjoying their Earthly life.

He saw some contorted version of Erebus next to him. Trapped as well.

He heard Estrid’s plea for Dread. She must have returned for him. Or maybe it was a cry so powerful it was audible from her cabin.

He heard her voice echo around him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to find relaxation in the caring voice of his friend.

Dread was confined here. Confined in a place where it felt like all that is dark was concealing him. The horror of this purgatory between worlds overpowered him.  He was neither living nor dead. Was he nonexistent?

Well, at least he stopped Erebus. The Hallows were likely extinct now without him. He fulfilled his duty, and saved both worlds…

That was the duty of any Hallow. To protect your land, and the people you love. Dread was now in the ranks of Creed… and the malice of darkness was vanquished.

That is the end of Lore of Dread. Remember to let me know what you thought of the story, and what you would like to see in next. Expect many more stories coming soon.

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