He paused outside the door that would take him to his goal. He shuddered as he thought about what awaited him on the other side of the wooden door, but gathered his composure, checked his gear, his sword, even checking the blue shining stone of The Goddess who had brought him to this world. Seeing it shine brightly off of his platinum armor helped mustered up his resolve. He threw the door open, took a step into the large room at the uppermost tower of the castle and stopped in his tracks.
The room had no windows, but there was plenty of light illuminating the grisly scene. Every inch of every wall was covered in the same shining Sigil of The Goddess he currently wore, the blue aquamarine glow leaving no detail hidden. In the center of the room was a ritual circle carved into the stone, filled with still fresh, glowing, red blood. Brightly enough to contrast with the Sigils, giving the floor a slight purple aura. At the other end of the room was the man he had come to battle, the one who The Goddess had charged him to destroy.
“You’ve done well to come this far.” The Villain spoke without emotion. The Villain, as it was clear he was with his spiked, dark black armor, his already drawn sword covered in dried red blood, and the menacing aura coming from his very being, then put himself into a fighting stance and stared at the young man before him.
The young man, a boy really, took a long deep breath before drawing his sword and charging forward. The Hero, as it was clear from his shining armor, His sword that glistens beautifully in the unnatural light, and The Sigil of The Goddess that marked him as her chosen, said nothing as he charged.
“Your swordsmanship is far better than expected.” The Villain said with an earnest smile to the young lad after a few exchanges. Still the young lad, The Hero, said nothing. He instead gave a few quick thrusts, easily parried by The Villain, before coming down with a heavy chop. The Villain’s smile vanished as he side-stepped the attack and came forward with a thrust of his own. The Villain did not look pleased when he felt his sword hit and puncture the hero's armor. He felt no satisfaction as the hero fell to his knees a moment later in a strained cry and then to the floor silently. The villain looked to his blood-stained sword, knowing it had found the young lads heart.
He frowned at his sword, then the young lad, and finally the ground where his blood was pooling with the rest. Another innocents blood joined the circle and would help complete the ritual. He watched the light from The Hero’s Sigil fade slightly and whispered to it. Knowing she could hear him.
"You should have come for me personally. Instead you manipulate children, tell them they are the chosen ones, and send them to their death… You should have stopped... after me."
There was no response, there never was. The light just faded to a mote of aquamarine. It mattered little. Even if he had been defeated his own blood would have collected in the ritual circle and it would have begun. One way or another, he was going to win. The villain walked to the middle of his throne room and began the final stages of the ritual. There would be no one to stop him now. There wouldn’t be time.
As the last words of the spell were spoken he revealed his own Sigil of The Goddess. The original. The blood of so many of the Goddesses chosen, the innocent, flew up in dark red tendrils from the circle below The Villain. From the source they slowly became black as they wrapped around the villain, engulfing him from torso down, lifting him from the ground. Power, leftover from the Goddess infused in their life force and in the Sigils hanging all around, began to flow through his Sigil and into him. He laughed as it propelled him higher, and he knew he could finally reach his goal.
He did not need her to come to him. He had finally amassed the power to bring the fight to her.
As the whirling vortex of blood and energy decimated the ceiling and shot him towards the heavens he grinned at the fight ahead. For the sake of those after him, and those who could come later… He would not lose. He was the first and he would be the last.
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