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It was getting difficult to stay awake, and the air seemed to be running out around the wounded male, the pain had turned into a dull pull at the edges of his mind. The horned man found it extremely challenging to keep his head up, and decided to let it dangle forward. Blood clotted his, normally flawless, blond hair; it was a mixture of his blood and that of enemies he had struck down. Though his vision was blurry, and lined with a growing darkness, Malik could see the black stain growing on his maimed chest. He coughed, a painful smile covering his bruised face as his eyes glassed over.

"...Ju-just like ink." He forced out. Though his body lie here in this state, the warrior's mind was years in the past. The downfall of the most powerful being known, along with his people, started years ago. He remembered it like it was yesterday, it was the middle of winter when he'd first met the person that changed everything he was.

Don-Don't be afraid human-boy..." He coughed out, blood dripping off his chin as he floated into the past more. He would have laughed at his next words, if he had the strength. "Yo-you are not worthy enough to kill." He had so much arrogance, and so much ignorance back then. Malik slumped forward, hitting the ground with a loud 'thunk', as the darkness took him away from this time.

Back to the beginning.

[Story begins]