Darkness had settled over Arcadia like a patient executioner; yet, this night was not silent. The sky roared like a raging giant as it watched the fall of the Astrax Temple. Lightning, bolting from between the clouds, tore the night apart with a white and raw light in periodic bursts, driving the sharp shadows of the ruins into the ground like spears with every explosion. There was no sign of rain; the air was heavy with the searing, dry scent of centuries-old burnt wood, scorched stones, and a dying faith. Every thunderclap that rent the heavens echoed the final cry of the fallen columns upon the stone floor.
And in the very heart of this sea of fire, a silhouette knelt upon the rigid and ruthless stones remaining from the temple. His knees were buried deep into the debris that was once considered sacred but was now merely trampled ruins. There was no softness of soil here; only the uncompromising, cold hardness of the stone that seeped into his very bones. Even as embers and ash fell upon his black cloak, he did not show the slightest tremor. The stones before him were the corpse of that holy temple where he had once sworn his oaths and surrendered his soul to Arcadia. But now, the only thing seeping through those cracks was not a divine light, but a terrifying void screaming that everything had been nothing more than a deception. His faith had been scattered like the stones of the temple, losing all meaning. The harsh wind carried the crackling of the flames to his ears as the ghosts of the past: the once-unshakeable smiles of his friends, the oaths taken shoulder to shoulder... all were now writhing and turning to ash within the stoking fire.
A footstep… That dry, rhythmic sound echoing on the hard stone rang in his ears like a bell, despite the majesty of the thunder. He lifted his head as if carrying a heavy burden. His eyes were narrowed by the smoke and the weight of what he had endured; his gaze was as dull as an ember that had lost its glow. The silhouettes taking shape in the orange brilliance of the flames were the very people he had once called "brothers" and leaned his back against. There was no stain of shame on their faces, nor the searing sting of betrayal. They looked on as if nothing had happened, as if this temple was meant to be destroyed all along. He searched their pupils for even a crumb of conscience beyond the reflection of the fire; but all he found before him was a pitch-black darkness that froze his soul.
A faint smile curled upon his lips—one that could have been an expression of mockery or the final breath of a dying soul. But that expression soon sharpened into something as keen as a blade whetted by pain.
"You excluded me… You forgot me…"
His voice drifted like a cold wind through the crackling of the burning beams. Even the lightning in the sky was not enough to illuminate the pure pain in his eyes. The stones of Arcadia were no longer a homeland or a mother's affection to him; they were his executioner's court. Now, only one light remained in his eyes: the blinding, absolute flame of revenge.
He stood up. The redness of the burning temple flickered in his pupils like a hellish dance. Thunder roared again; lightning whipped the darkness. And in that moment, Arcadia was no longer the old Arcadia. Shadows came to life around the stoking fire. Darkness prepared to swallow the realm like a hungry creature, even hungrier than the flames devouring the temple.
A silhouette lunged forward and began to circle him, just as the wind circles a fire. His eyes shone like cold stars even within this pitch-black chaos. When Ridas heard his voice, he remembered that familiar warmth he had once trusted; but now, that tone was as sharp as a snake's hiss:
"This path brought you here, didn't it?" he said, tilting his head slightly as if watching the final breath of prey. "You kneel in the grave of the things you believed in, upon these cold stones, yet you still cling to broken chains. Why, my friend?" In that moment, the last bond, the last crumb of conscience within him, silently snapped. "Friend…" The word fell from his lips, leaving the bitter taste of burnt paper.
"They betrayed you. Will you remain silent to the fall of Astrax, to this sacred ground?" The silhouette drew a little closer. When the white light of the lightning fully illuminated his face, that old friendly expression had been replaced by an ice-cold indifference. "Betrayal… I do not want revenge," he murmured toward the silhouette; his voice sounded like a dull echo rising from a deep well. "So, will you just turn a blind eye to Astrax being left in this state? They didn't even deign to watch, let alone prevent the destruction of your temple. Come with us, and let us extinguish this glowing fire within you, this pain you cannot soothe…"
His words were like battering rams, breaking down the defenses of his mind one by one. Anger had now turned into a black poison flowing through his veins and freezing every cell. A faint curl appeared on the shadow's lips. "The weak fall. We simply chose to be on the side of the strong, the side of the winner," said the silhouette; his voice was more destructive than the thunder.
Hearing this extinguished the last candle flame within him. He had become a part of the shadows now; or perhaps he always had been, and had simply refused to see it while the temple stood.
Something snapped inside; like the breaking of an ancient seal. He was now like a new, terrifying entity rising from the smoke and fire of the ruined temple. First, he closed his eyes and filled his lungs with the dry air of burnt wood and stone. When he opened them again, his gaze no longer carried any human pain. There was only one verdict in his eyes: the cold decree of absolute annihilation.
"Then," he said quietly, his voice possessing an ominous calm that drowned out the roar of the flames, "you too shall burn along with it."
The silhouette before him stepped back for the first time in the face of this new and uncanny majesty. But it was too late. Thunder echoed above them like a roar sealing the fate of Arcadia. Fire was swallowing everything, but he was now hotter than the fire.