The air remained poisoned by the insidious stench of blood.
Ezeikel's hands became a macabre sight of mangled bones and flesh, his face contorted in an agonized grimace. He groggily gathered the trampled remnants of his resolve, vaguely listening to the melodious tune of carnage colonizing the dark lands.
Minutes swept across with incredulous sloth, the trickling sound of liquid echoing in his ears repeatedly. Slowly, his listless thoughts grew into stronger, manageable strings of cancerous information, his heart rate quickening once more.
He pressed his damaged limbs against the stained floor, gritting his teeth as he forced himself back onto his feet. His stance swayed vigorously, a heavy object striking his chest as he hurriedly forced himself to stand erect.
Bloodshot eyes locked onto the trail once more, following it out through the gaping hole in the wall. Eventually, his legs moved, each step drawing him closer to the incessant clamor of hardened objects. Soon, he was surrounded by an odious siege of the Moonlight Army battling fiercely against the mysterious invaders. Fortunately, the battle wasn't taking place anywhere close to his home, so the rickety structure remained safe.
He briefly took in the harrowing sight, quickly refocusing on the trail that lead him here. At this point, a cacophony of bloodied trails littered the degenerate streets. But still, he knew which one belonged to his father. He didn't care to understand the mechanics behind it, persisting instead.
All around him, the vampires battled, mostly ignoring the malnourished figure walking in the midst of the unfurling chaos. At times, their fights would draw dangerously close to him, only to be directed away. From his appearance alone, the soldiers could tell he was a civilian. Still, they wondered why this young man was walking so casually in the midst of such a fierce battle.
Ezeikel's thoughts, though somewhat stable, were still considerably impeded by a multitude of debilitating emotions. He desired to arrive at his father's location as soon as possible, yet couldn't bring himself to move faster than his current speed. An internal skirmist pushed on within his aching mind, longing and terror engaging in a calamitous dance somewhere within.
His sunken face remained icy, crimson eyes narrowed as they focused on the liquid trail. His blood magic was a laughable concept, leaving his arms heavily damaged, blood dripping from severe wounds till this minute.
"Hey, kid! Get the heck outta here! What?! Do you have a death wish or something?!" An enraged, desperate voice filled his ears, a resounding clang following right after.
Ignoring the soldier's warning, he pushed forward. Soon enough though, his luck ran out. At first, the destructive battle seemed oblivious of his feeble presence, however, that all changed when a wave of purple energy erupted right before him, the force of the blast knocking him into the air, towards a tunnel of raining crimson blades and hardened serrated wings.
His life flashed before his eyes.
Barely a second passed before his body became the recipient of a despicable amount of lacerations. His blood departed from his system at a wretched pace, stealing his consciousness in the process. Eventually, his eyes fluttered, drowning his vision in an unchanging mass of darkness.
*********
'Am I… dead?' he asked, feeling himself falling perpetually within the lightless abyss. 'I don't feel so weak anymore. Maybe I am dead.'
He remained silent for sometime before speaking once again.
'Who would've thought? After everything dad and I did to survive, I still ended up dead. Hah! How pathetic,' he mused, shaking his head. 'I said I'd get revenge on the royals for abandoning us. I swore vengeance, worked everyday just to remain alive, all for this? It feels… it all feels like such a waste.
'Why do we all toil so hard? We push ourselves everyday just to keep on living, and all for what? At the end of the day, we're all gonna die, so why keep on trying?
'From the day we're born, our destinies are set. Trying to fight against destiny is a fool's errand, yet we all struggled aimlessly to alter our faith. We were all nothing but fools.
'Well, at least now it's all over—the pain, the suffering, the oppression. The dead can't be oppressed. Well, not unless the Supreme Sovereign decided otherwise. Wait, what am I saying? Screw that bastard, if he even exists, that is. Choosing to just sit back and watch us all suffer. He's no better than those pompous royals. Even those enlisted in the emperor's army, they abandoned us all, forsaking sympathy for avarice.
'This world, this despicable reality we were forced to live in, to hell with it. Ptui! I'm glad I'm dead. Now I don't have to spend another Sovereign forsaken day working like a slave for that arrogant bastard. Damn, who would've thought tailoring could be so stressful?'
Ezeikel's rants went on, giving himself some semblance of warmth within this tenebrous space. Eventually, his thoughts grew somber as he remembered the people he left behind.
'Dad, wherever you are, I hope you're safe. If not, I hope you find peace in the afterlife, just like I have. Our fight was long, but at least now, we can rest easy. And mum… sorry, but I wasn't able to avenge your death.'
His descent continued unimpeded, untill a loud, thundering voice shook him from his rant.
"Ezeikel Stormwing, cease your ramblings this instant!"
His eyes darted all around him, failing to recognize the source of the booming voice. His vampiric vision couldn't gaze through the darkness, causing him to snarl as his lips parted to give a response.
"Supreme Sovereign? Is that you? I'm gravely sorry for my transgressions against you. It was a slip of the tongue—a lapse in judgement. Please, have mercy upon me," he pleaded, clasping his hands together as his heart beat accelerated. "I may not have believed in you before, but now, I have been enlightened. Spare me from the Underworld, oh sacred one."
A few minutes passed by in eerie silence, untill the voice replied, saying:
"Who is this 'Supreme Sovereign' you speak of? I am but a manifestation of the powers sealed within you."
Ezeikel raised an eyebrow.
"Huh? Powers sealed within me? What are you talking about? Still, I'm glad you're not the Sovereign, I would've truly been ended if I encountered him here," as he finished his sentence, he shook his head once more. "Wait, I really don't understand. You're telling me I have powers sealed inside me, but I should be dead, and if I'm dead, then those powers shouldn't matter. In that case, what you're indirectly telling me is that I'm alive, and that I have powers I never even knew about?"
Ezeikel struggled to hold back a headache as he finished his sentence.
"Indeed. Years ago, your powers were sealed, for reasons unknown, even to me. But now, having been brought so close to the gates of death, that seal has been broken," the voice replied.
"So, what does that now mean?"
What sounded like a disappointed sigh assaulted his ears. Then, the voice said:
"It means that you can use your innate abilities now, you dimwit!"
And with that, the voice ceased. All around him, the darkness began to convulse, rapidly spiralling untill it dissipated in a wave of incandescent light. For a brief moment, Ezeikel was blinded by the sharp radiance, untill that too vanished.
**********
Gradually, his eyes fluttered open, ears taking in the incessant clamor of weapons once more. His eyes scanned his body, taking note of his ragged clothing and pristine skin. Upon observing the latter, a spark ignited in his eyes, accompanied by a whirlwind of questions surging forth.
'My wounds… but how? How are they healed? Also, how am I back here… alive? Wait, no, I didn't die, I remember. I was in a dark space, and I felt like I was constantly falling, though I couldn't feel any sort of breeze fighting against my fall. And then, there was that voice… what exactly was that? Manifestation of my powers? What powers do I have? I'm a bogus vampire who barely has any powers, damnit!'
In the midst of his thoughts, a member of the Shadow Faction flew past him, his swift figure leaving a strong trail of wind and debris in his wake. Ezeikel quickly got back to his feet, his senses amased with dread as he scanned for the trail he was following prior. With grim resolve, his legs sprang forth, rushing past the insidious conflagration of battle-hardened stalwarts in a bid to locate his father.
'Whatever, what matters now is that I find father. No matter what, I can't let him die!' he thought. '...If he's still alive, that is…'
He pushed all other worries to the back of his mind, a sharp pang of frustration building in his chest as he swerved across the ensuing conflict.