The pair of defenders raced towards the gates of the city, only to dash in differing directions as the mangled steel and crumbling brick exploded towards them, and the demons began to break through the entrance. While both the Lord Redmont and King Akilara had known the capital couldn't be held forever, they had both wanted a bit more time to ensure the evacuations went smoothly. "Maxim! We need to buy the guards some time, so they can escape!" Verial growled as he rejoined the slayer, who was already notching an arrow and aiming. Maxim rarely employed archery, as it wasn't his strongest skill -- but it worked nevertheless, and one monstrous creature of metal and shadows crumpled with a shrill cry. "We need a diversion then, Verial," Maxim replied, notching another arrow which inevitably missed, prompting a scowl from the youthful Redmont. Verial paused for a moment, then grinned slightly.

"I've got an idea, Maxim. Hold the lines, just long enough for me to get into position," Verial shouted as he turned away, breaking into a full sprint towards the castle once more. There was no further exchange between the two warriors -- though raised in different eras by different families, they were two of a kind and had become trusting friends after only a short time. Maxim notched the last arrow, and it struck another creature in the neck, which allowed a limping guard to crush it with a massive, spiked mace. The Redmont dropped the oak bow and drew forth the sleek, Muramasa-styled saber that was an heirloom for the nobility of his family; he charged forward to join the rest of the guards, who were unaware of who he was save for the fact that Verial himself had invited him.

Blood quickly soaked the whitened overcoat and silver armor, though the crest of the Redmont Dynasty displayed upon the back of that garment was miraculously untouched, throughout the conflict. With each slash and parry, more of the monstrous abominations fell, severed limbs and gore left behind even as the guards and their Redmont ally were slowly forced back past the gates, at last.

Maxim shook his head after a moment; the city was lost, and though Verial had made it clear that the kingdom could not be saved, he had hoped for a lucky mistake on the part of their foes. His mother's words of chastising wisdom echoed in the back of his mind at that moment, as a bitter reminder, 'If you wait for your enemy to make a mistake, then you've already made one of your own.' Another sentry next to him was struck down by no fault of his own -- three of the entities had surrounded him, and used the numbers to their advantage. Maxim could already see two of the man's friends sprinting towards them, intent on revenge -- and so the slayer moved ahead to distract the trio of shadowy terrors. "The three of you, against a single guard? How... honorless," he nearly shouted, taking a stance that portrayed quite a mocking feint. The abominations charged, but two were cut down before they had taken a second step, and the final was decapitated by Maxim's own blade.

It was then, that the defenders of Oneiro received their signal. There was an earth-shattering roar, one that caught the attention of every combatant on the battlefield that had once been peaceful city streets, and even the Redmont himself stared at the skies for a moment. A massive black dragon loomed in the clouds of smoke above the city, with the setting sun behind it -- it made an impressive sight, and it gave the knights, guards, and that lone slayer the chance they needed to deal a crushing blow to the forces that threatened to destroy the capital on that very day. Together, Verial and Maxim bought enough time for the evacuations to wrap up smoothly, and the beauty of the image that King Akilara created on that day was one that ended up seen outside of Oneiro in paintings, and the like -- it was the material that legends were made of.

And it was something that the Redmont hadn't forgotten.



The familiar image that Verial cast against the full moon of the Alerisian sky was easily seen by the black-clad, armored vampire from where he stood, and a brief smile filtered across ashen features as wind swept through dark locks of hair. Fiery eyes of brilliant, luminous crimson narrowed slightly, and he began moving once more. Two days earlier, he had made the decision to leave the mountain fortress where he had relocated to, so that he could find Verial and ascertain what had happened to his friend after seven years had passed; in truth, Maxim wasn't certain how the shape-shifting former King of Oneiro would react to the sight of the undead former King Redmont. They had both changed -- but when Maxim had last seen Verial, they had parted as friends that were as close as brothers. And given that the former slayer counted very few people as friends, it meant something still to him.

He made no attempt to conceal himself as he approached, instead making his presence known with one simple statement, as Verial's familiar frame at last came into view. "It has been quite some time, old friend."

The stark, fiery shade of those crimson-colored eyes were what marked him as undead most visibly, but the brief smile that he offered in greetings also revealed the whitened surfaces of elongated fangs, leaving no room for error -- he was a prominent member of the vampiric species, having gone from a hunter of the undead to one of their most powerful examples. That blackened overcoat and armor seemed somehow much more sinister, and regal than the humble attire he had worn as that young, newly-married slayer that had left his family and bride to come assist Verial in the defense and evacuation of Oneiro -- but altogether fitting.

Neither warrior was who they'd once been, and the Redmont could see that Verial had changed just as much as he had over the past years. "Times have changed, and us with them -- but it's good to see you've survived as well, Verial. What brings you here, searching for me?" The signal had been unmistakable, and Verial had likely known that. Memories of days gone by in their youth hadn't faded for either of them, and he knew he would've been one of the few to recognize that specific image and ear-splitting roar. He eventually took up a position several feet across from Verial, his muscular back resting against the rough granite of the rocky surface behind him. The overcoat was left unbuttoned as per usual, which not only left his armored form visible -- with the modified crest of the united Redmont Bloodline displayed proudly upon the right shoulder of the garment -- but that elegant, large revolver and the sword he'd matched it with. All in all, he was far more deadly and experienced than the young slayer who had met with King Akilara of Oneiro several years ago...

If only Maxim had known that time changes everything...

Hope was but a fleeting moment.

As soon as the ebony dragon had gone up into the sky, silhouetted against the glowing sun, fate had changed its hand for Oneiro in more ways than one. The mere presence and strength in Verial's form was one that ultimately gave the survivors of Oneiro a chance to escape. Citizens followed palace guards, fighting their way through the nightmare creatures one by one. If monsters began to outnumber the refugees on their path of escape, Verial was there to quickly fling the enemies aside and even out the numbers. Many were saved, much more than Verial had assumed could be saved at first. Nevertheless, no matter how many foes were crushed with the recently forged Oneiro and Redmont army, the attackers kept returning.

Pale dragons soared in the skies, haunting the war zone that was Oneiro. For days they had circled like lost ghosts around the city with no rhyme or reason, only singing occasionally and trying to reach out to an unknown force. When at last they saw the dark dragon moving towards them still pushing the army of shadowy beasts as far from people as possible, they made a move. In unison, the six white dragons turned towards Verial and sliced through the sky almost effortlessly. Verial's own flight was taken to a sudden halt, hovering in the sky for a brief moment before diving back down to the ash and blood covered grass below.

Verial's talons hit the ground landing a little ways outside the City of StarFae. He transformed back into his more human like form quickly, dark feathered wings stretching out from behind his back. His odd-colored eyes searched the scenery around him noticing that despite the destruction that had leveled the city, it had gone a lot quieter, which Verial hoped was due to that many people had survived and not died. Verial ran back in the direction of the city realizing that it was his time to get away. Ash drifted from the sky lazily like snow and ahead of him he could still see strong pillars of fire flickering from the tops of buildings. After he got to the city, it was just a matter of making sure everyone had gotten out, and that Maxim Redmont, a valiant friend, had escaped.

Stop him. He does not get away!

And as soon as Verial heard the commanding voice pulsating within his mind, he stopped just a few feet from the city gates. There, a few lingering soldiers waved him forward calling out and trying to get their King to move, only his legs would not go forward. Verial felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck and his lips parted as if he were trying to gasp for air. Had it been anyone else, they may not have heard the eerie song that floated in the air, but Verial heard and remembered it right away. A lullaby - one that his mother used to sing to him. As soon as the white dragons had used it to lull Verial into a sort of stupor, their song changed - screeching and piercing, like howling banshees. No matter how much he would have liked to, Verial could not place his hands over his ears, and with no cause of his own, he felt himself transform back into his dragon form.

He was not himself.

Angelus Psalm, his brother, saw the dragon while fighting off the remaining monsters in the Rotoria Desert. Sorvynia Dreamer, Verial's mother, watched the dragon from Snowside Mountains. Calamaya Everness, his love, gazed from the deck of an escaping ship and saw the dragon with fearful, knowing eyes. Maxim Redmont, where ever Verial's friend had been, saw the dragon and knew that it was not the same sign of hope that had previously loomed in the sky. And those remaining people in StarFae City saw the dragon as well and it was the last thing they had ever seen as the dark beast controlled by a song of wrath and malice stormed into the city and took everything that was left.

Hope had come, and hope had gone.



"It has been too long," Verial replied and in this sense of urgency, he could not have agreed more.

It was true that both of them had changed much over the years. Verial, who Maxim might have met several years ago with a more positive look in his eyes, now seemed drained of life instead. Where Maxim was once a youthful human, he had now joined the ranks of the ancient vampire race, a species which Verial used to carry in his own blood and cleansed himself of. Despite these differences, they still saw each other with the same respect - a king, a friend. But this was all about to change of course.

Verial stood up on the rock he was previously perched on and gracefully jumped down from it, his feathered wings shifting behind him. When Maxim had last seen Verial, it had been to watch the King of Oneiro destroy his own city, and yet the Kinslayer looked upon him as a friend and not a person who had taken the remaining and struggling lives of the Oneiro citizens. Verial found himself at a loss for words or actions. Though his goal was still clear - to bring Maxim to Lumine Ravenholm in exchange for his son's life - he could not find the courage to proceed.

Courage? What courage? There is no bravery in betraying a friend.

"To thank you," Verial finally answered. "When Oneiro had fallen, I had lost many people and though I was able to reunite with most of my family, I was unsure of your safety in all the chaos. I am glad to see you are doing well my... friend, but before I can properly thank you, I must ask you for another favor."

He paused, watching as the Redmont King waited leaning against the rocky terrain to hear what Verial had to say. While Maxim wore the crest of the Redmont Bloodline, evidence of his still thriving lineage, the only thing Verial had to remind him of his reign as a king was his sword. Though Verial had rejected his memories of ever being a king many times, he still wore the royal sword of Oneiro against his hip, ready to use it against Maxim should his request not go over too well.

"Lumine Ravenholm wishes to see you and I must bring you to him - alive or dead."

"We both have changed, but I believe you're still the same person I fought alongside years ago," Maxim murmured in quiet reply as he looked away, that overcoat barely ruffled by the sudden rise of a bitter, icy wind. Pale illumination from the full moon overhead cast an eerie light across the vampire's armored, muscular frame before he finally turned -- and in his other hand, was the revolver that he had acquired prior to the sudden migration to the Outlands. A single flick of his wrist, and the cylinder snapped out, letting the rounds fall into the snow, where they'd be left obscured.

"I don't believe you'd turn against me without reason, Verial. As it seems we have quite a journey ahead, to return to the Outlands, why don't you explain it to me?" the former slayer asked, unstrapping the belt that harbored the sword often brandished by the Kinslayer. Both weapons were held with the handles extended towards Verial, in a fashion that the man probably hadn't expected; for somebody that he had considered a friend, Maxim Redmont was effectively surrendering.

Once Verial had taken the weaponry, the Redmont took a step towards the edge of the rocky cliff that they stood upon, pale features perfectly displayed in the moonlight. Muscled limbs were drawn back to fold against his chest as he let his gaze drift across the midnight skies, before shaking his head. "I've seen the reports in the Chronicle, and it's not difficult to see Lumine's paving the way for his forces to invade Aleris. If the King of this realm is too busy waging a war upon my family, it'll provide a perfect opportunity for Lumine to position his troops all over this realm. I don't think you'd willingly participate in such a dishonorable scheme, Verial. You've held yourself personally responsible for Oneiro since the day we parted company, old friend; you're not a manipulative liar, like the Ravenholms are," Maxim further elaborated, his voice quiet and marred by a slight accent. Dark tendrils of hair drifted into disarray around ashen features as he stepped back, brilliant eyes of fiery scarlet shifting back towards his former ally.

"There are two reasons that I refuse to fight you, Verial Akilara. The first... is that we are friends," the undead Redmont explained, pausing to allow the other warrior a moment to grasp the full effect of what he was saying. It wasn't difficult for Maxim to ascertain the kind of guilt that was afflicting Verial, and that likely had something to do with the fact that the former King Redmont had surrendered his weaponry and refused to fight.

"The second reason... is that after the Ravenholms execute me, which you must know they will, you'll protect my family. You're an old friend, Verial -- one of the few that I'd still consider as such. But if you must force this, then you must fulfill my request; I think it's only fair. I made Daphne a promise, that I'd protect her even past the day I died -- and if this is it, then you will be the enforcer of that promise, old friend." The former slayer stepped forward then, and rested one hand on Verial's shoulder as he gestured towards the descending path that wound through the rocky surface of the mountains around them. "We really should get moving, Verial. I can't travel during the day, as I'm sure you've already realized."

The Redmont didn't wait for Verial's answer; by now, the draconic king knew that the undead warrior wouldn't attempt to flee. Such things were quite simply beneath either of them, and rather than a treacherous father escorting a prisoner, the appearance was more akin to that of two old friends making their way along the path that led out of the mountains. He said nothing else beyond that, either; assuming that if Verial wished to explain his treachery, then the former King of Oneiro would in due time. Since he clearly still considered Verial an ally and friend -- two assets Maxim rarely claimed -- he had opted to give him time to decide what to say. After all, it was the least he could do.

The question was -- would Verial tell Maxim why he had betrayed him for, of all people, Lumine Ravenholm?

Was Verial's reason enough to issue Maxim's death sentence? Who was he to judge the value of Maxim's life over his own son's life? Of course, Maxim was seen as a warrior and King throughout the years, but truth be told he had family and those he cared about and valued equal to Verial's own adoration for his son. It would have been easier for Verial to weigh the importance of life if Maxim had threatened him... if Maxim had fought back. But to Verial's utter disappointment, Maxim held out his weapons - even the famed saber worn by the Kinslayer looking strange not attached Maxim's belt. Verial wanted some other reason to take Maxim to Lumine, or perhaps he had wanted to die in battle against Maxim to free himself from the guilt.

But now, as the two stood on the mountain path, Verial felt betrayal pressing even more heavily on him. Verial parted his lips to speak and give Maxim some cause for his mission - to perhaps seek forgiveness - but no audible sound came out. The fallen Oneiro king grasped Maxim's weapons and took them in possession instead. Maxim turned from Verial then to gaze out into vast kingdom that was Aleris, contemplative over the situation despite his recent rejection of Redmont leader. Somewhat surprisingly, Verial found Maxim was well aware of Lumine's grand plan even though he had made little appearance in the Outlands or Aleris as of late.

Even with this awareness, Lumine's actions or the soon to come execution was not the first thing plaguing Maxim's mind. The Kinslayer pressed further and questioned Verial's motives. Although Maxim had never said the word "betrayal" once, it was evident that it was happening. In his words, Maxim offered praise somehow and still believed Verial was not capable of such dishonor, which only turned Verial's guilt into aggravation - into anger.

"Stop it," Verial said suddenly. "You have no idea what has brought me here, so don't assume that I am not capable of villainous things or that Lumine is any better than I am. I destroyed my entire city and killed hundreds of people who otherwise respected me. Maxim, what makes you think I am not capable of dishonor?"

There was an uneasy silence in the air suddenly as Verial waited for an answer from Maxim. At this point, Verial's elvish hearing picked up on another sound which was unmistakable - drums. A hymn of war and footsteps marching in unison away from Grand City could be heard. Alerion's army was moving to the Outlands and that was one obstacle Verial did not want to encounter while taking Maxim as prisoner to The Outlands.

Verial started to secure Maxim's weaponry again as if busying himself with not departing from the mountain right away. And it seemed Maxim had stolen these few minutes to place yet another promise upon Verial's already weighted shoulders. As Maxim finished speaking, Verial wished the Kinslayer had not requested what he did. For a long while, Verial kept his odd colored eyes to the ground, looking for someway to perhaps escape into the camouflage of the white snow. Some part of him, maybe the section in his mind that had been twisted and manipulated by Lumine, urged him to say "no" and object to Maxim. Nevertheless, Verial found himself bringing his head away from the ground and nodding slowly to Maxim.

"I will protect your family, and as long as Daphne allows, I will make sure she is safe, no matter what risk it may bring to myself," Verial answered his eyes not moving from Maxim's. There was no doubt in his mind that Daphne would be furious after she heard of Verial's betrayal and undoubtedly come for his own blood once Maxim's death had passed. However, Verial could not find it in himself to say no to this promise. Verial had sworn to protect very few women in his life - Necia Akilara, Sorvynia Dreamer, Calamaya Everness - all of which he had somehow failed miserably and here he was adding Daphne to the list, which would be a challenge in itself from the start.

Verial looked to the sky and let out a breath that shook slightly - from the cold or the journey ahead, Verial could not tell. Maxim's vampirism would make travelling to The Outlands more difficult than Verial liked. However, as much as Verial wanted to get this done and over with, he wanted to save Maxim and set him free. But with Kyrian's life in the balance, Verial was not sure what his conscious would allow him to do anymore. With a nod of his head towards Maxim, the two started down the mountain path on their way to The Outlands.

There would never be enough time in the world to explain why Verial let himself to bring Maxim to his death or how easily Lumine had swayed Verial's now obvious weak willpower. Hundreds of years later if he was still alive, Verial was sure he would not be able find any sort of gratification for having Maxim's blood spilled, even with Kyrian's own life spared. And with certainty, Verial knew he wouldn't be able to offer an apology, as there would never be enough time in the world to seek out forgiveness that made treachery acceptable.

Even as Verial began to reply to Maxim's statements with bitter, angry words -- the vampire lifted one hand to silence the former King of Oneiro. "Enough, Akilara," he growled, going so far as to step forward and lift Verial from the ground by the collar of whatever armor and clothing he wore. Despite the sudden show of strength, Maxim's weaponry had already been surrendered and his intentions stated; Verial would know there would be no attack to follow the show of aggression. "If we're cautious, we may be able to devise a plan that will allow me to ruin Lumine's pitiful reign as emperor, and gain the reward that you're looking for, Verial -- but we need to hold our heads high from this moment on. Am I quite clear?"

"For too long, you and I have both fled from our duties as kings, and I tire of running, old friend. If I must face death yet again to serve your whims, then you will stand with me. We die on our feet, not on our knees -- remember that, Verial?" the undead Kinslayer snapped, before releasing his iron grip upon his friend's armor, and letting the man fall onto the snow. "When I was naive and young, I came to your aid. In the time that I spent in Oneiro, Demetri Ravenholm had the opportunity to wage war against the woman I loved, who led my family in my absence. Do you have any idea how much people have sacrificed for you, Verial?"

Maxim continued to move then, his pace steady and purposeful -- as though the former slayer knew what awaited him at the end of their journey and did not fear it. "Years ago, when we left Oneiro, and I returned home... I found that my wife was dead, Verial -- raped and slaughtered by the Ravenholms, the same filth that you find yourself having to serve. I never told you, because I felt you already blamed yourself for what had happened in your kingdom, with your people, and I knew you'd hold yourself responsible. Listen well, because I have no intentions of repeating this. We are to blame for our choices, but you aren't responsible for the loss of a young slayer's bride any more than you are for the fall of Oneiro. We cannot control what others do, but we can control how we respond. And from this moment forward, you're going to let go of the guilt you're burdening yourself with, Verial." Maxim turned to face Verial again, the brilliant scarlet hues of his fiery eyes seeming even brighter in the darkness that surrounded the pair of warriors. "Let me explain something else to you, Verial. You will listen to me; I can sense the guilt you're consumed by, and thus... you have little choice. You'll hear what I have to say, if for no other reason, because you owe me that much."

"After I changed, and the initial battle between the revived Brood and the fractured Dynasty took place, I found myself surprisingly unsatisfied. My family, those who had joined me, embraced what they were and by extension, the power I wielded was unlike anything the Redmont name had seen. Undeath changed my views, and the metamorphosis by others changed them as well. Isabella, my twin sister; she briefly worked with us in Oneiro. Do you remember her?" Maxim inquired. The woman in question was likely easy for Verial to remember, as she had only been present for one major mission, which had been the last one for all of them. As they retreated from the now ruined capital city, a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Maxim had arrived to inform him of the impending Ravenholm attack on Northcross, but like her brother... she had insisted on helping Verial before departure. She wore the clothes of a pirate, a uniform made more extravagant by various pieces assembled from different cultures and militaries, and though beautiful, her similarity to her twin brother was rather obvious. Even Verial had commented on it, after watching Maxim and Isabella cut their way through a pair of shadowy demons that had been pursuing them. "At first, she chose to side with the Dynasty, against me. We didn't know that we were brother and sister, and she soon became Lady Isabella Redmont, after Daphne was defeated by my own foolish rage."

"It wasn't until the plague hit, that she finally relented. An old witch, whose name no longer means anything, came to the cathedral where I had performed my vigil for Isabella, and she revealed the truth. Mother and Father didn't even know; my twin sister was switched at birth with my half-sister, and only as she laid in my arms, dying of that plague, did I learn of our connection," he explained, with a light sigh. He glanced towards Verial, after having mentioned the plague and how it had brought his sister to the brink of death. More than likely, that surreptitious glare confirmed Verial's suspicion that Maxim knew about his son's illness. "Before I knew that she was my twin sister, I wanted to fulfill her dying wish; to let her die, to suffer the final weakness of mortality. But when I was told who she truly was, I made a decision. I asked her to forgive me, and then I embraced her, to save her from the plague as only I could. When she awoke, Isabella forgave me for what I had done... though she could've easily found hatred in her heart for what I had done."

"I've known about your son, Verial; I simply haven't acted upon that knowledge because I assumed if you wanted my help, you'd come ask for it." The Redmont let a faint smile curve across his pale, handsome features as he placed one hand in front of him and vaulted over a rock that blocked their path with inhuman ease. Dark tendrils of hair were blown into charming disarray as a cold breeze whipped through the area, made stronger by the height of the mountain that they were working to descend. The sound of beating drums and marching feet wasn't only heard by Verial -- Maxim paused, and glanced at his friend before lifting muscular shoulders in a light shrug of indifference. "It'd seem that the Alerisian forces have already mobilized to invade the Outlands..." His eyes narrowed slightly, and then he began moving again, his stride quickening somewhat.

"I hope she's ready, Verial... I couldn't bear to lose Daphne or Jass, ever again."

The mention of the Strata demoness brought fresh, pleasant memories to mind. Though she had always followed her own path, it always entwined with the Kinslayer's -- and she had found that crumbling fortress located in the northern mountains of Aleris. Idly, he wondered where she was at that moment; if she wasn't nearby, he suspected she was probably back in the Outlands, waiting and surveying the gathered forces to determine whether or not she needed to assist the united Redmont Bloodline. "Let's move faster, old friend. We have a date with destiny, and we don't want to be late, now do we?"

He let a venomous smile form as shadows danced across his features, one that was barely witnessed by Verial -- and perhaps, gave Oneiro's fallen king hope that a cure could be found for his son without having to betray the Kinslayer.