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From the corridor, we could already hear the wind howling on the other side. The moment I stepped through, I felt it, the cold, cutting wind rushing against my body. Breathing felt like inhaling blades of sand, each breath dry and sharp. It was almost identical to Pyrral.
'Not a mortal realm either.'
Cough. Cough.
"Sorry, I forgot to tell you. It's impossible to breathe openly in Parvak."
The little dragon apologised.
She pulled part of her clothes up to block her face from the wind. Vera, already feeling victimised by the land itself, quickly did the same. I created three scarves from thin strands of darkness and tossed two to them without a word.
Then I looked up at the sky. It was bleached and pale, almost white-grey, with streaks of endless dust drifting across a ceiling of restless storm clouds. The wind never seemed to settle, carrying the dry taste of the land with it. Even standing still felt like resisting a slow, grinding force.
Unlike Pyrral, this place had no sun. The sky was filled instead with perpetual stormlight, eerie glows from distant lightning storms and faint auroras drifting through the pale haze.
'Peaceful, yet alien.'
I didn't need it, but I pulled down my hood and wrapped the scarf around my face anyway. The wind clawed at everything it could reach.
"Let's go."
I chaged the colour of the scarves to match the dust around us. The landscape stretched endlessly, much like Veyra, while winds blew from every direction at once, restless and unceasing.
THIRD POV
On the fourth day, the Old One finally made it to the city. The Void Dragons evacuated the city and the queen was summoned to the scene.
"Your Void."
She kneels and Draal assumes a humanoid form behind the Wanderer.
"Nyxon?"
He writhing shadow asked.
"What have the outsider done to earn your game?"
"I won't ask twice."
It pressed, straightforward.
"He..."
"He left."
Right before she could respond, another voice answered. It was the Ash Duke, Velros.
"Why did you let him go?"
Draal asked, Velros descended slowly, joining Silverhair in a kneel.
"He raised some bells but he helped defeat the Cannibal."
"You mean the one you were working with?"
The Old One asked.
"Yes. I was the one who brought Zaroth to Pyrral. A wild beast like him was needed to keep the others in check. I kept my eyes on him and made sure he didn't cause any more trouble than expected."
"Now he's gone. What now?"
Draal continued his questions.
"It is true that Zaroth is gone. But not everyone needs to know he is. As long as the Cannibal title remains alive, it keeps the others on edge and prevents the younglings from growing complacent."
"What was your goal then? Framing Nyxon as the Cannibal? It surely wasn't to have him kill Zaroth, was it?"
"No. At first, I thought he was someone who deserved to be ejected, but he already knew Zaroth's identity and killed him."
"And where were you when all of that happened?"
"Enough questions, Draal."
The writhing shadow fell silent, looking down at its master without a word. Draal's shadowy eye glowed faintly in the dim light.
"You two still have Nyxon's particles lingering around you. And yours…"
A shadow extended, tightening around Silverhair's throat.
"…is far more active."
The Wanderer finished. The Queen struggled against the grip, but it was useless.
"You too, Velros."
He turned his gaze towards the Ash Duke. Velros trembled, fear plain in his eyes.
"After killing the Cannibal, he crushed me before leaving."
"So he didn't kill you. How interesting."
"And you?"
Draal asked, tightening his hold.
"You'll end up killing her before we get an answer."
At his master's request, the shadow loosened and released her. She dropped to the ground like a discarded doll.
"I was trying to seduce him. To test him before throwing him to Velros."
"Then came the explosion. Nyxon used it as a diversion to escape."
Velros finished the story.
"That's it. That's what happened?"
"So you mean to tell me. An Outsider infiltrated Veyra, Pyrral and now you let him into Parvak just because he took down a Cannibal? I'm starting to question which side you're on. A Cannibal or not, we're all Calamities' kin. This is no place for an outsider."
"..."
"..."
He's right, they shouldn't have let him go but they knew he was capable so that was the only option.
"You're a disgrace to the Silverwing."
A chunk of darkness struck Silverhair, sending her crashing back. The force of it made her tear through part of her own palace in the process.
Before she could recover, a thin thread of shadow snapped around her and dragged her back. By the time she stopped moving, her body was bruised and scorched.
"You let an outsider bear your family name and allowed him to walk free. Not to mention your… improper display of lust."
Draal slammed her head first into the earth, the impact carving a wide hollow in the ground. Velros did not move from his place, his wings keeping him steady as he watched.
"You're showing clear signs that age and desire are clouding your role in Pyrral. Perhaps Pyrral needs a new Silverwing."
The Old One's gaze shifted to Velros.
"And you…"
"You know Nyxon. I doubt even the Hollow Prince below us can deal with him."
"Currently?"
Draal asked, surprised.
"Yes."
The Wanderer nodded.
"Given his rapid development, he might become trouble even for me."
The Meraxor Family was something else entirely, but if Nyxon could handle their Hollow Prince or Princess, then he was not someone anyone could afford to underestimate.
(Meraxor, the third of the Abyssal Calamities.)
With a single step, the Old One crossed the void, heading west.
"We have to catch him before he leaves Parvak," he said, his voice unchanged.
"If you want him that badly, I can take us to Parvak instantly."
Draal already knew the answer, but asking cost nothing. For all he knew, the Old One might change his mind.
"No… I prefer to walk."
Draal only shook his head and shrank into the form of a small dragon before padding after his master.
They were closer this time. Given the nature of Parvak, Nyxon and his companions would waste precious time simply searching for the Gate.
"He's a tourist in a new city. We are locals who know its streets. In turn, we know something he doesn't."
"Parvak itself is a dead end. There is no Gate up there."
Draal declared plainly.
"Even if one existed, Orun is sealed. He's running blind into a trap. You're clever, Old One.".
"The rabbit may be quick, but the tortoise always reaches the finish line. Patience, Draal, that is the key."
The Wanderer's smirk deepened. If they knew what was waiting for them, they would never have headed to Parvak in the first place.
(This goes from both sides:)
Meanwhile in Parvak...
To be continued...