Chapter 8

Deeper Thoughts

Standing before him, still and motionless, Xiven held onto his dagger tight. His antagonist lunged forward, deforming and metamorphosing into a mass of blackness, stretching and reaching to devour Xiven in whole.
The mask wielder rolled out of harm's way as he lethargically pushed himself upright. He reached for his mask but could not find it, his dagger too, had disappeared. His enemy stood behind him motionless as ever.
This time, the black figure disappeared in a wink and reappeared in front of Xiven wielding the sword made of light so bright, Xiven had to use his forearms to shield his eyes. The blade came in a swept that was too fast to avoid, yet slow enough to be seen. Xiven screamed but no voice came out. He screamed again as the blade closed in to cut him into two.
He felt death reaching him
He screamed again but there was only silence.
It felt like fear.

Xiven sat up on his bed, perspiring. Touching his legs, he gave a sigh of relief that he was only dreaming. This was the third time he had this recurring nightmare. But each time it felt more realistic.
The pair had left the village town a few days back. Or at least, what was left of it. Traveling on trade routes, they stopped in a small inn at the edge of the forest lands in which marked the beginning of the desert lands.
Chron had retired for the night but Xiven was kept awake.
Not forgetting the swift movements of the cloaked figure, Xiven quickly realized that his current capabilities were far too limited. He needed a new power, a new mask.
Xiven got out of the bed, landing his feet softly on the wooden floor. There was a basin of water prepared by the inn on the table not far off from the bed. How thoughtful of them, he thought.
Xiven stood up and used the water to wash his face, and shaking off any excess water from his hair. He then reached for his belt containing his dagger with it's sheath and the wrapped package under the bed.
He opened up the package and smiled at his work. First there was his mask of the ogre's face which he quickly took and tug it onto his belt. Behind that was a white plate, a vault, which he used before to create his first mask.
The past few nights he had little sleep. Whether was it because he stayed up all night to complete the vault in secret or if it was the nightmares which perked him to waking, it did not matter.

From talking to passing traders and sometimes paying "knowledge allowances", Xiven mapped out that there were many troll encampments in the nearby vicinity.
Trolls were well known for their strength, speed as well as their shamanistic capabilities, though they were also well known for their hostility towards outsiders. However, raw power and aggressive instincts were exactly what Xiven thought he needed, and he would make a mask out of them. At the current moment Xiven cannot exactly tell what effects or results a mask from a troll would produce but if he had to kill an entire camp to find out, he will not hesitate.
The mask wielder shook his head. A corner of his mind could not believe that he even thought of murder just test his strength, but he reasoned himself with a flawed logic that trolls were not living humans.
His fury was consuming him but he could not be bothered by it.

The cedars at the forest edges were not as dense compared to those back at Oriyus. But long periods of existence in dry climate and sandstorms had not only made the trees more hardy, but also rougher and stronger. Xiven however, still moved with equal stealth.
There were many spots Xiven came across which possibly was a camp but thus far, all had been either abandoned in a rush or swept clean by flame.
It took Xiven several hours before he came to an actual camp. It will be daybreak in two hours time and without the cover of night, it will be troublesome for Xiven to move around in to seek out a target without killing it first. He needed his target to be alive after all.
Seemingly under heavy siege and low in resources, the camp was poorly guarded, allowing Xiven to slide pass the sentries with ease. The leader will be a nice first choice, he thought.
Locating where the leader would be was not difficult, all Xiven needed to do was to find the largest tentage, in this case was the only tent which was not made out of hastily cut logs and blinded together with vines.
The tent was built beside and supported by a cedar and Xiven made use of that to peek into the tent from above by making a gap wide enough for his face. He was right. This was the leader's tent as in it not only was huge carpet, a bonfire but also a largely built troll seated on the edge of the tent. He was fowling while a smaller looking troll, seemingly the adviser was jumping and speaking in gibberish, as if panicking. The leader waved the adviser away, obviously bothered and annoyed. This was the chance Xiven needed.
Once he was certain that the adviser was well clear of the tent, he leaped into the tent like an angel descend onto the bonfire but landed softly like a phantom. He had no idea why he chose a grand entrance.
Before the leader could react, Xiven spoke from behind his usual mask, the one which he wore to conceal he own face.
"Greetings to your my lord." Xiven said while giving a half bow. "I see that you are troubled." The leader grunted angrily as Xiven carried on. "I too, have troubles of my own and for that I need your... I need you, to aid me."
The leader was not bothered with Xiven's speech, instead he grabbed a pair of throwing ax from his sides and hurl them towards Xiven.
Xiven rolled out of harm's way and unsheathed his dagger but kept it concealed by his side.
"I see trolls are not into courtesy but I really have no wish to waste our time here." The troll leader seems angered but by the time the Xiven noticed, he was already charging towards the mask wielder with a pair of sharpened blades on his arms.
Xiven sighed as he poised for the inevitable.
And there was a loud crash. Following the crash was a shock wave which knocked over most of the stands in the tentage. The shock wave could easily had sent both troll and man to the ground if they were caught unexpectedly.
The troll was stopped in his tracks and his expression took a drastic change to that of horror. It seems that which had been troubling him had just arrived.
Xiven too felt danger approaching, a familiar danger, but he must have what he came for; His new mask.
Without wasting time, the mask wielder lunged towards the troll, with the white disc in his hands and fixed his eye onto the panicked expression of the troll.

It seem like he was just inches away from his target until something darted into the room which collide into him. Xiven with the projectile flew across the room as one before landing on the far edge.
It took Xiven a while to realise it was a body of a troll which crashed unto him. It was in fact, the body of the adviser which he saw earlier on. He was badly beaten, and hardly alive. On its body were many burn marks, not normal burn marks as they formed straight lines and curves. It was as if a gigantic hand was holding to it and burning it earlier on.
The smell of smothering flesh troubled Xiven and the smoke made it hard for him to see clearly. But he was sure he saw something, or someone dashing into the tent.
One of the fire stands by the side rolled towards and lit up the linen of the tent. The dry wood and linen made the fire spread quickly and within moments, the whole room was engulfed in flames.
Xiven lifted the burnt troll from him as he stared hard at the source of the trouble, which he quickly noticed had became his as well. Clearing up, he narrowed his eyes. It was that same robed figure which attacked him back in Oryius.
Yet he was safe for now as the black figure was not interested in Xiven. The assassin held up the troll leader by its throat, which he did with ease despite being shorter.
The leader struggled and muttered gibberish as he held onto the last remaining moments of his life. The robed assassin managed to look nonchalant even with a mask on. He muttered a few words which Xiven could not hear and a blade made out of light shot up from his forearm which pierced through the troll leader's throat.
The creature stopped struggling as his eyes flipped showing its white and its whole body became engulfed in the same white light. The light was burning through the dead creature.
The blade from the assassin's forearm had not stopped after it pierced the troll's neck, it carried on toward the burning linen far behind and tore through it. The robed figure tossed the corpse aside at the same time cutting down most of the tent. Now behind him was the forest in which most had either been burnt or were still burning in the same light, as if a thousand fireflies swarmed the area. Normally the sight of this number of fireflies would be majestic to look on but not this time Xiven thought.
The assailant's blade dispersed from his arm and light particles diffused out like fireflies. He turned his focus onto Xiven whom quickly prepared to fight back. No one moved.
Even though both men stared at each other with masks on, Xiven could tell of the rampaging emotions in the assassin's eyes. One which he could not had felt himself.
The robed assassin turned away and left as night gave way to day, disappearing as quickly as he came.
Xiven got up. He was partly puzzled by the sorrow in the assassin's eyes, but he too felt anger. He did not get what he came for, and never would. He walked out to the forest, leaving behind a trail of blood as the very first spears of sunlight embraced the savaged lands. The power of his opponent was indeed vast.
Xiven look out to the lands and wondered. Could he really be that powerful to do all of this? Xiven felt uneasy at the thought of the answer.
Over from a distance, a misshaped ax shot towards the mask wielder. Had he been slow enough, the projectile would cut him into two, but fortunately for Xiven, he got away with a cut on his right arm. The cut was not fatal was it was deep enough to incapacitate his right arm.
The mask wielder moaned in pain. He recognized the ax from the unearthly material and size. The Bone devils.
Xiven felt force knocking him down from behind and something pinning him down. From above, a red bone devil landed in front of Xiven, presumably the leader of the pack. The demon retrieved his ax and smiled at Xiven.
"Greetings human." The red devil snorted as he started plucking his stubble. " I had came here to finish what I started and honestly, I'm surprised at the damage you done here."
Xiven's eyes widened. He was reminded of the tragic back at Oryius.
"We... Dislike unfinished business. We had burnt your homes, killed your spouses, poisoned your pets, massacred your town and will peel your skin if not for some unforeseen circumtances. The only way out for you was that we never find you." The Red devil smiled, as if proud. "But we already found you."
The mask wielder had no idea what was going on, but he struggled to get free. His effort were in vain, his will, tattered.
"Xiven get out of there!" A voice called out. Voice of someone he knew so well. It was Chron.
Chron leaped from behind onto the devil which was pinning on Xiven and punched his sword into the devil. The force was not great enough to pierce through but nonetheless it left behind a deep gap when Chron pulled out his sword. The wizen warrior followed up by a shot of flame into the wound and the demon screamed in pain.
Xiven did not let this chance go by and pushed himself clear before Chron struck. He was slightly ambidextrous, though was not adept at powerful left hand strikes, had managed to parry from an incoming ax from the red bone devil. The dagger took most of the damage.
The Red demon, seemingly unimpressed, raised its skeletal fingers and waved towards the sky.
The troll corpses around Xiven exploded, and hordes of bone devil tore out from troll remains.
Xiven dropped damaged dagger and released a spare one from it sheath as he turned in circle on the spot. He was surrounded and soon, Chron was back to back with him.
"So whats the plan Chron?" Xiven said, almost jokingly, hiding from Chron the tremendous amount of truth he witnessed this day.
"Funny, I was about to ask you."
"Hey I know this isn't the best time to ask, but where did you learn a trick like that?"
"I... I didn't know, it just came to me. I surprised myself that I could even feel comfortable with a sword."

It did not take long before the first bone devil struck. Xiven and Chron stood back to back, parrying slashes and slicing off demonic forearms as they turn. Clearly they were superior but the demons will easily triumph by sheer numbers.
By the time the first wave of bony minions died down, both Xiven and Chron were already exhausted.
The red demon devil positioned itself to be directly in front of the pair as it lunged the red ax into the ground for support. Several white bone devils around locked themselves in a formation with the red one, giving it extra stability and support. The whole structure looked like a fiendish hell cannon as the leader leaned forward with its mouth stretched out.
From within a red light charged up and before long blasted out a beam of blood red, disintegrating most on its line of path.
The pair easily dodged the beam. But the main point of the cannon was not to deal direct damage, but to split up the two.
With Xiven alone, all the bone devils quickly turned their focus from Chron, as if he was of no threat and start to pile up on Xiven. Chron was knocked aside and pinned down by several demons.
The mask wielder donned his mask underneath the pile of white bones but mist the horrors and demonic presence, the fury of the mask was much diluted. Nonetheless it granted the strength he needed to punch his way out of the pin. The exhausted Xiven dropped to his knees and when he looked up, a bony red tail swiped him across the ground, slamming onto a cedar. More white demons jumped on him to lock him in. In his last glimpse of light, the mask wielder pulled out the vault from his belt.
Chron watched helplessly as the same fate befell onto him.
In a grand flash of red, Chron shielded his eyes as Xiven burst out of the wasted pile with his dagger in hand. The red glow came from the mask on him, his new mask with a demonic look. Glowing with an eerie tinge of maroon, the light was not enough to light up the entire area but it was much brighter than the morning sun. The glow continued to spread across his entire head and wrapped Xiven entirely in its devouring aureole. It swirled onto his body, his limps. It took slightly longer for the glow to fully cover the dagger but when it did, the dagger resonated and looked anything more than what a dagger should be, surrounded by a nimbus of red hot light. When he moved, there seems to be several of him at once.
And move he did. Chron's reluctant eyes were barely able to follow as Xiven darted around the battlefield. There were only instances where Chron could clearly see his glowing friend's full figure was as he made sharp turns, stabbing the stomach of one enemy, standing next to a beheaded foe and slicing off several weaponed limps. All seem to happen so fast that blood did not spurt until Xiven was well off at several targets ahead.
And when Xiven did slow down, Chron recognized the mask as it took the look of the bone devils. Apparently this one gave him speed.
With each sharp turn, the mask wielder kicked up a substantiate amount of dust which only seem to make him harder to spot.
Within a few minutes there was but few demons left. Xiven stopped in his tracks. The remaining demons now were not closing into him or Chron, they were in fact inching away in fear from the masked Xiven. The red coat on Xiven seemingly had faded in contrast but as Xiven turned towards the red bone devil, the red light on him flared up again, signifying his anger.
Almost instantaneously the mask wielder charged towards, and through the demon, shattering it into pieces like brittle glass before it can even scream. The rest of the bone devils disintegrated into dust and gory remains.
He had won.
Xiven removed the mask from his face and proudly tucked it into his belt. He turned to face Chron, who seem impressed, but with the usual lost look on his face.
"Hey Chron, lets go back." Said Xiven in which he let out a hand to help Chron to his feet. Chron responded to the gesture and took his hand.
The two friends headed back and as they walked, Xiven glimpsed into the distant rising sun and thought to himself. Whatever he does or whenever he comes, the mask wielder will be ready.