"The barrier is... faltering? But that's impossible," The Val'Thyren is powered by the Worldheart." My jaw fell.
A soft hum sang through the air as the streaks of golden light forked across the sky like a spider web.
My brows furrowed. "How could The Great Veil drain the largest Etherium crystal to ever exist in mere decades?"
"DECADES?" Cayden basically screamed.
But interrupting him, a scrawny redheaded girl rushed towards us. Tripping over the uneven floorboards and colliding with Cayden.
"Oh, sorry, Cayden, I didn't mean to-"
"It's fine!" he interjected.
With a curt nod, the small girl reached out with frail, trembling hands, holding an ornate vine-covered bow, which Cayden accepted wordlessly.
"Everett," Cayden's tone lowered, his gaze sharp.
"What do you mean, decades?"
Silence hung in the air as my confusion only grew.
"The Val'Thyren was created five hundred years ago!" he said.
My throat went dry.
Even the low hum of the barrier seemed to fade as his words sank in. There was no reason for Cayden to lie, and as much as I couldn't possibly believe what he was saying, the finality in his voice told me it was true.
"Eve..."
But how is that possible? The books I've read all my life, there's no way they were written five centuries ago. My vision blurred.
"Evere..."
The Aureline wrote them during the Great War, but their pages looked new. My fingers weaved through my hair.
I know I've only just arrived here, but how could my sense of time be off by almost five centuries?
"EVERETT," Cayden's voice tore through my spiraling thoughts as he shook my shoulder.
My eyes began to focus once more as I gazed up to see Cayden pointing to something far across the valley.
As soon as I saw it, a thick, putrid aura began to ooze through the air, making even breathing feel difficult.
Tracing Cayden's outstretched arm, I watched as a dark, blurry shadow rapidly devoured the distant forest, flooding the valley in a slimy surge.
"DRAW," Cayden bellowed, as several dozen men and women beside us drew their crude, homemade bows from atop the wall.
The slamming of footsteps and screams from below had ceased, and all that remained was the cold, eerie chill left behind in the twilight sky.
Everyone held their breath, whether out of fear or simply to enjoy their last minute of peace before the battle, I wasn't sure.
But time seemed to freeze as Cayden's arm rose to the sky.
All our eyes were locked on the shadow-like manifestation of death on the horizon.
The grey wilted grasslands fell still, not even the colorless grain dared to sway as the venomous aura sank the valley beneath a rising sea of black.
The closer it crept, the more suffocating its presence became, and in truth, the more familiar it felt.
And that's when it clicked.
A plague-like sickness clinging to the air. The grey, withered landscape that followed... "It's just like the books said," I realised.
Beings of pure malice, powerful enough to drive all of Ravaryn to war.
"The Abaddon!" My voice trembled as Cayden's arm swung forward.
And just like that, the blissful silence came to a crashing end.
Gangly black limbs clawed out from the shadowy mass, ripping at the ashen farmland as a barrage of arrows soared through the sky.
"Charge!" Cayden roared.
The grand brick gateway swung open, and a flood of villagers, men, women, and even children rushed onto the battlefield, charging straight at the obsidian mass.
The once farmers drew their blades. Some bore a bright, silvery sheen like the one Cayden had given me, but most were rusted and worn.
A few even charged forward with pitchforks held like lances, as they disappeared into the swirling black mist.
My mind began to spiral once again. But this time it wasn't out of shock or fear. All that remained was the result of years of training, hardening my mind into a relentless, cold precision.
I no longer questioned why the Abaddon had returned, nor did I dwell on the fact that 500 years had supposedly passed since the battle of Lumeria.
But the truth was simple yet unimaginable.
The Val'Thyren is faltering.
And the Abaddon are back!
I watched as the ten or so archers atop the wall drew swords instead, before descending into the battle below.
I assumed their arrows were simply ineffective against the onyx fog, but an explosion of pure white energy proved me wrong as it arced through the sky, piercing the black surge.
My jaw fell as Cayden drew his bow for a second time. Within seconds, another blazing white arrow coalesced in his hand.
I could barely believe my eyes. Even an Aureline our age would struggle to channel that much ether, not to mention a farm boy, wielding it as if it were second nature. A chill shot up my spine as I realised Cayden's strength.
His bow twisted and curved like a living branch, its surface covered in bark and ivory leaves.
But what was most intriguing was the top arm of his bow, as it curved forward instead and was adorned with a series of delicate, harp-like threads.
"A Fallen Remnant," my eyes sparked with intrigue.
I continued to watch as he struck a soft, melodic chord on its musical strings before releasing the deadly coalesced arrow, sending it crackling through the valley in a fiery blaze.
Unlike the last shot, however, it didn't explode; rather, its dense white energy sank into the onyx fog before devouring it like a rabid animal, burning through its mucky flesh.
"If you call this the withering, then what the hell do you call that?" The words practically rolled from my lips as I pointed to the ashen, dry ground and then at the rampaging white flame in the distance.
Instead of replying, Cayden fell to one knee, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession.
It wasn't surprising. If anything, I was oddly relieved to see him so fatigued after unleashing such a powerful weave.
"They won't... l-last much longer," Cayden whispered.
His voice was so quiet, I could barely hear him over the clash of steel and the shrieking of the Abaddon.
But he was right.
For a while, the black mass had halted, pushed back by the farmers. But the more I watched, the further the plague-like fog oozed across the battlefield.
My mind steadied as I gazed down at Cayden's sharp, exhausted face.
"Rest up, farm boy. I'll take it from here," I said, slinging his sword over my shoulder with a wide grin.
Cayden nodded, his eyes heavy and his arms limp.
Amethyst blood splattered across my face, stinging my eyes.
Forcing the tremor in my hands still, I didn't flinch.
My gaze cut through the thick onyx fog, cold and calculating.
The further I descended into the valley, the denser the fog became, until the air reeked of blood and iron.
Overhead, the night sky was barely visible in fractured streaks of purple and yellow
The slimy fog swallowed everything else.
All my senses were on edge, ready for the Abaddon to lurch at me from the shadows. But the single thought of erasing the onyx haze had stolen my focus.
"If we could just get rid of this damned fog," I bellowed as a long, shadowy claw hurtled through the darkness, gnashing at my throat.
My body spun as instinct took over, leaving my mind out of sync with my movements. Pivoting through the dry mud, I slashed upwards, severing the creature's limb in one clean slice.
As my mind finally caught up, my father's blurred face rose in an abstract memory.
I always hated the years of dreadful training he put me through. Not just because of my pathetic body and its lack of ability to channel Etherium.
But honestly, I just never really wanted to become a fighter like he was.
It's kind of funny, really. Soldiers of the great nations and Reapers alike are the reason Ravaryn still exists, and I'm thankful for it.
But learning how to carve people up with a blade was never my calling.
And yet, now it's the only thing keeping me alive.
With a sneer, I dismissed the idea that my father might be right as I plunged my sword into the dark.
Catching the slightest flicker of movement, I slashed downwards, causing a blood-curdling shriek to rip through the air like hot steel.
Without looking back, I lifted my left arm, dragging the short blade along my elbow as thick purple blood sludged across my sleeve, proof of another kill.
"So these are the Abaddon."