The Purging of Light

[Zinerva]

The fight was definitely not going in their favor, the two Darkness Sedi had fallen immediately struck down by their own elements. Only the grace of an inch had allowed her to keep her own neck intact during the first wave of the assault when she had called upon her powers to strike down the Undead who had suddenly turned ravenously on them. The fact that they were so far from the Arc of Death made them little more than mindless feeding machines, their attacks lacked coordination, but were tireless and wearing. Thankfully the efforts of the 5 Death Sedian Elites had managed to take control of a small division of the Undead, and used them to do most of the fighting, and dying against their brethren.

But despite it all it was a delay of the inevitable. Elements were failing one by one, the Fire Sedi were unable to channel even enough to light torches for them anymore, and the Life Sedi's powers were either weakening or she was pushing herself beyond her limit constantly healing them against the unending waves of attacks.

Even as she braced herself for the next push of the undead, there was a break in their line. One of the Fire Sedi had fallen, clutching desperately at a vicious wound in his neck that spouted blood like a geyser. The sight of the blood inflamed the undead more and they pushed harder breaking the line. It was a free for all and the living and controlled dead were greatly out numbered. With grace She sliced and parried fighting in the way all Sedi fought, fearless in the face of death, but with an insane and unconquerable will too live. But in her heart she knew she was only prolonging her death.

The Detonation of Light that suddenly interrupted the fight took her by surprise, she slipped on the blood of a fallen comrade and hit the ground hard. The last thing she saw before blacking out was Sitherack's form standing over her with an absurd blade of Light in one hand of all things and the Arc of Darkness in the other.

[Sitherack's Soul]

Her eyes slowly opened from the dreamless rest and the first urge she had was to touch her face, she couldn't tell if her eyes were really open or not, there simply was no light at all to see by, trying to sit up she found she couldn't move. Panic started to rise in her chest, but she stilled it down, her soul touched the Darkness around her tentatively, cautiously after the Darkness going insane she wasn't about to just pull it around her and embrace it.

Everything seemed quite normal, so she embraced a hair of the Darkness, pulling it around her dress like armor, and she felt air rushing around her. It was then she realized she had been suspended in a cocoon of magical darkness to accelerate the recovery of her powers. She caught herself as she fell just in time landing gracefully on her feet. Shock filled her features as she looked around at the darkened landscape. She had expected to be back in Tarthia, either the citadel or perhaps at least the outskirts of the city in a field camp where her wounds would ave been tended.

This was not at all the case, she stood in north end of a massive vaulted chamber. Small balls of pure white light were spaced periodically around the inside perimeter of the room. The light was there, but it was subdued, and it didn't take her long to figure out why. In the very center of the room was a massive black marble well. The liquid that rippled softly as though alive was darker anything she had ever seen before. On the south side of the Well was a large stair case, it descended into the liquid, and nothing could be seen of it once it penetrated the surface.

Nothing like this existed in the Citadel, nothing like this existed anywhere as far as she was aware. The Darkness Well called to her, her eyes couldn't look away from it, it was as though all the darkness that ever existed was there in front of her, like she could drink it all in, till it obliterated her, and never even scratch the surface.

“Fascinating isn't it?” Sitherack's voice from behind her made her nearly jump out of her skin. She spun and saw him, or at least who she thought was him, the figure was completely unrecognizable. The armor he wore was unlike anything she had ever before seen, it ate light like a starving man, pulling all light around him till darkness overwhelmed and conquered even the shadows around his body. The Darkness swum around him like a cloak, here and there, soft shimmers of silver runes on the metal armor were visible, but the shimmering too was eaten by the darkness A helm of obsidian night rested on his head, it hid his features in darkness completely, no light penetrated, only a faint white burning light in his eyes was visible through the helm, though no shadows were cast from it.

In fact the only thing that seemed to hold its ground against the voracious dark energy around him was that brilliant blade of light, shining even through the sheathe it rested in at his side. The Darkness did not try to eat that Light. He rose slowly and she took a step back partially in respect, partially in fear. She noted that the metal armor seemed to move out of his way of its own accord, bending and flexing in ways that metal could not possibly... she wondered if if could be that the Armor was some sort of Darkness made manifest... such mastery of the element was completely beyond her comprehension, and she was certain was beyond Sitherack's as well otherwise all their followers would be outfitted in such gear.

“You may go Zinerva, Our followers are all dead, eaten alive by the ravenous Undead, condemned by the Sage's of Shadow and Light. Salvage what you can if you will, but I have things that must be attended to and not time to watch over you anymore.”

The finality in his tone, the cold unfeeling fact of it made it unquestionable. It was not possible, and yet she accepted it as she rose to her feet. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the Sage of Darkness hurt beyond comprehension at rejection from all she had accepted as her own since she woke up. It was more than she could bear and she turned and fled from the structure out into the restored night of the North Eastern Land of Eternal Night.

He watched dispassionately as she ran from the Temple, a lot had happened to him in the time since he had rescued her from the ravenous undead of the Tarthian Gates. He had fled, with what little power he had left as far as his energy would take him, and ended up not too far from this place. The place he had been taken as a child, a place all but forgotten to him, where the power of the Sage of Darkness had entered his infant body and imbued him with its will for all years to follow, through life and death.

It was remarkable that when all he had worked for came crashing down that he would end up back at the beginning. Slowly he removed the Arc of Darkness from his back, and Dark energy responded with eagerness. It flowed over his body, in through his soul and back to the well, suffusing the Arc with even greater energy than it produced naturally. He smiled as he listened to the Essence of Darkness inside of him. It spoke to him, but not in words, rather in images and emotions. It had a plan things it needed accomplished, and he was more than willing to become its instrument. Especially since the Death of the Lightning Childe and Sage of Shadows were part of its goals.

He focused the will of the Sage of the Dark directly into the Arc, and it consumed the light of the room, the small globes of light winked out immediately, even the Arc of Light seemed subdued compared to the oppressing presence of Darkness that hung over the room. Raising the Arc of Darkness into the air he cast it down into the well. The audible splash as the Axe entered the liquid darkness was the only sound to be heard.

He listened watching images inside his mind, his luminescent eyes unfocused left hand clasped around the grip of the Arc of Light. The black armor snaked up the blade as he pulled it from the sheathe, as though trying to consume it, but the blade flared anew, its brilliance singlehandedly lighting the temple with the shining golden glow of noonday. The Armor shrank back off his arm to the elbow from the blinding power of the Arc of Light. Still he smiled grimly.

His steps echoed in the empty room as he moved to stairs and began to descend into the liquid Darkness. His Armor surged again, flowing back up his arm, and the Arc of Light flashed in protest, If it were alive it would have been screaming in terror. Still down he strode, chest deep in the darkness, as the Arc flared even brighter, sending out a single insane pulse of Light like the death of a star, a supernova of light that illuminated the land for thousands of miles around, and then suddenly winked out, as he thrust the blade beneath the Darkness, and continued downward.

Soon his entire form had vanished beneath the dark liquid leaving not a ripple. Time passed, minutes, hours even but he did not rise from the darkness. Finally a full day later, his helm broke the surface of the darkness. He strode out with purpose, Darkness swirling around him like some small black hole. Lastly he pulled the Arc of Light out of the well. As he did corrupted purplish dim light erupted from the surface of the Well and plunged through the ceiling of the Temple skyward. It hit the sky with an impact, ripping outwards, and slowly cycling. Darkness spread outward from the impact point, slowly, but ever expanding it could be seen from miles off as of now.

The Arc of Light itself was changed as well, the hilt, and blade was made of the same material as the Arc of Darkness, of the Arc of Darkness there was no sign. But the blade still shined, if with purple energetic light that seemed to crave darkness rather than scatter it. His armor also pulsed with this errie light, which seemed immune to the ever hungry darkness that flowed around his form.

“Time to hunt.”