CHAPTER 24: PREDATORS AND PREYS (1)

The endless forest of Calquin had been filled with an air of tranquility, so much so that the tall green blades of grass seemed like a blessing as they swayed in the gentle breeze. With the appearance of the man in the sky the entire first floor of the tower became filled with animosity.

Nothing had changed after the trial had started, it was just a few seconds of cold silence. The swaying grass stopped and the world ceased existing, there was only a void of nothingness that existed for a few seconds.

And just like that it all vanished like mist in thin air, there was an explosion of noise in the once quiet world. A pandemonium erupted, there were sounds of the tearing of flesh, the squelching of guts being spilled on the floor and the sounds of bones snapping as if they had been torn of from the very limbs.

There were cries, many distorted, horrific screams. All sounding at once, enough to give one nightmares. It would start with grunts, then the sound of blades clashing and bouncing off each other but would end the same— with a blade going through the other party.

There were also sounds of pleasing, then muffled screams like they had been drowned in a pool of their own making.

But perhaps what made the scene more horrific was the massive change to the atmosphere and scenery. The once green beautiful world was now being dyed red. The floor was becoming sticky with the viscous red liquid of life. The digits depicted on the floating panel on the sky dropped rapidly, and was currently reading:

[3857 CROSSERS REMAINING]

Aerith frozen in horror, his mind unraveling to the point where he doubted sanity itself existed. He wondered what was more horrific, the fact that people were butchering and slaughtering others like livestock or the truth that he could not do anything but clutch tight to his companion.

Since he was forced into the tower he had continuously experienced the most bizarre if circumstances, he did not care what the tower was or why he was there. But he was afraid, of course he was afraid for his companions but his fear outgrew that. He was more afraid for himself, his life and mind. His thoughts tangled into nonsense. His breath came in short, ragged gasps.

He could smell something faintly, and it made his heart soar. It was death mixed in blood and anguish. What could he hope for in a world where the concept of life was nothing but a ploy to be exploited by some more powerful force.

Just as he was descending into a madness of his own making, a voice broke his reverie. "I thought you were stronger, it’s no wonder you comrades are in such a sorry state." The white prince was still seated cross-legged on the huge boulder, the look he gave Aerith was no longer one of amusement but dead rage. In the ensuring chaos, his hair his clothes and everything about him seemed to exude a strange aura. It was scary to even look at. However there was one little but powerful difference about him, in his hand was a long silver rapier that reflected light off it. "So you’re one of those types of people."

Aerith’s eyes widened in fear as a horrid thought slipped into his mind. "Shit, he’s going to kill me." And there was nothing he could do against that if it were to happen.

"Don’t touch my brother", came a soft familiar voice from behind.

He turned back to see Emilia already on her feet, her face still pale but looking more energised, he wondered how she could look full of energy all of a sudden. "Emil-"

She gave him a smile that warmed his heart, "I’m fine, the ground here reeks of blood. It’s been healing me."

Aerith looked shocked by what she had just said, "Are you trying to tell me she’s been healing herself on the blood of the dead? What does that make her?" His thoughts shocked him even more than he cared to admit.

The thought that they were in a graveyard was sickening in itself but not as much as the thought that all life on the first floor was bred from past conflicts. He could imagine the entire region being a wasteland where the bodies of the dead became nourishment for the vegetation to grow, if so that would explain why everything was so green and fresh.

A swift wind brushed his face...

"You’re always in your head, it sickens me." He heard Hizan’s voice, but it did not come from the top of the boulder because he was no longer there. The words came a few inches from his very ears, his eyes widened and his whole body froze in shock.

"How did he get next to me?" His thoughts rang.

Hizan was standing right next to him with a cool demeanour that seemed to command the very air around him to bend, up close Aerith could make out how he looked clearly. If he had looked like an angel from such a short distance, up close his look more than confirmed it. Aerith expected death to take him any second from now but it never came, Emilia tried to attack him but for some reason her powers did not work on him.

She charged at him throwing her small form in his direction but he simply drove his kick into her side, sending her crashing into the ground with heavy impact. Her ear-piercing scream jolted Aerith who was still holding unto Nasha’s body.

Enraged, he laid her body on the grass and climbed to his feet. Standing right before the white prince he could tell he was a few inches taller, but was he stronger.

He threw a blow right for the white prince as best as he could and hit thin air, a second later the white prince was by his side...

He barely saw Hizan move.

There was blur, then a rush of air and the world tilted sideways. Pain exploded across his jaw before his brain could even process the strike. His teeth clattered together with a wet snap as the ground rushed up to meet him. For a brief second, he wasn’t sure if he was still alive or already floating somewhere in-between.

His vision pulsed in white streaks and limbs refused to obey him. The grass beneath him felt soft— too soft, like the world itself had decided to cradle him before it spat him back into pain.

Before he could process what had happened he heard the faint clink of metal. The sound of the rapier tip dragging through the dirt.

Then it stopped, right above his heart.

Aerith’s breath hitched. His lungs locked. He couldn’t even look away. In that moment it dawned on him the truth of his existence.

He wasn’t just weak, he was irrelevant.

Hizan’s shadow loomed over him, calm and detached, as though the act of ending a life was nothing more than a formality.

Aerith’s thoughts fractured into one last, desperate plea:

"So this is what it feels like... to be prey."

Then the white prince lifted his rapier— no hesitation, no mercy.

The motion was swift and deliberate.

A hand at one end.

Flesh at the other.

Then the world went silent.