Outside the Cycle - Act II

Act Two: It Rises to the Surface

Morning came, and the storm abated.

Arash hadn't slept - he rarely slept, save for when physical exhaustion demanded it. A knock upon the door roused him from his trance.

"Who is it?" he said, feigning innocence.

"You're being moved," said a voice Arash recognised as Chen's. "Come now."

He shrugged, and did as he was bid. The Radiant fortress was sickeningly bathed in golden sunlight, a far cry from the hopeless twilight he felt at home in. It was as if the sun was scouring him, a dark thing that did not belong here.

It was then that he caught a glimpse of the Radiant Ancient.

It was exactly what he thought it would look like - a grand edifice of Radiant Ore and natural life, protected by two titanic towers locked in eternal vigilance. Arash felt its touch on his mind, and it was a touch he had felt before - at the Dire Ancient, when the Shadow Fiend had forced him to take a side in a war that was not his.

Both sides are the same, he realised. It wasn't wholly surprising, yet he pondered at possible greater implications that may arise from this discovery.

His time here was nearly over, his purpose almost done. Arash spied a building, larger than the rest, and from it sensed strange emanations. This, then, was the place.

Chen tugged on the lead around his bound hands, and Arash let out a short chuckle. The fanatic turned on him, and found himself staring into the Psychomancer's eyes.

"You didn't really think I'd let you capture me that easily, did you?" he said languidly, extending his mind to paralyse the knight. Chen could only watch as Arash fiddled a bit before he was free and the rope dropped to the ground. The Psychomancer turned and walked off, and heard the voice of his former captor let out a squeak as he tried to fight the mental lock upon his brain.

Arash frowned and snapped his fingers - and with it, Chen's mind. The holy warrior let out a sharp howl of agony and fell to the ground, blood pouring from his nose and mouth as his brain haemorrhaged and turned to soup. He shuddered once, twice, and stopped. Arash smiled softly, and continued towards his goal.
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The building was, as suspected, an armoury of sorts. Arash was delighted to find his armour and weapons in a compartment not far from the entry. He paused briefly to equip it, but it was not the reason he was here.

Three Radiant creeps guarded a small shrine towards the end of a large corridor. The area was illuminated in a soft purple light, which seemed to come from the walls. Arash leapt into action as the guards saw him, dashing towards them. The first died in a spray of blood as the Psychomancer's talons ripped apart his torso, ruined viscera splaying out and falling to the ground with a sickening slurp. The second's head exploded into a fountain of blood that splattered the corridor and everything in it upon contact with his free hand, brain burnt away at the Hero's mere touch. The third lived only two seconds longer than its compatriots, the blade-hand of Arash tearing free from its past victim to slice the creep raggedly in half at the waist.

Arash stood up to his full height, wiped some of the blood off of his face, and turned to the shrine.

"I have you now," he murmured. He reached into the shrine, and from inside it pulled out a small crystal, barely the size of his palm, glowing in the colours of the Radiant.

He chuckled briefly, tucking it away into his armour before exiting the building. This object, created as a focus point of the Ancient's powers, may hold the key to breaking Nevermore's bond on him. Quietly, he leapt over the wall and headed towards the jungle, heading back to Dire territory.

"Arash."

He turned to see Lanaya standing on the wall in a combat stance, holding in her hands some kind of psychic blades crackling with ethereal energy.

"I should have warned you not to cross me," he said sadly.

"I can't let you take that," the assassin declared.

"Then you'll have to die too."

They blurred into action. This was nothing like killing Chen, who had been utterly unprepared for a mental assault - Lanaya had armed her mind, and physically was an equal match for the Psychomancer. He rolled out of the way as she leapt down at him, narrowly avoiding one of her blades which had leapt from her hand to him. He struck back, gauntlet whistling in the air as its talons swept in a razor arc, but the blow was blocked by Lanaya's other blade. She flexed her hand, and another weapon appeared in it, and with a flick of the wrist it struck out, glancing Arash on his hip. A thin line of blood appeared, the armour cut through like paper.

"Psi Blades," he spat. "I'm not even mad."

He disengaged, jumping back slightly to avoid a slash from Lanaya. While she rose to her feet, he extended his hand, striking her with a blast of solid psychic force. She flew back towards the wall-

-and vanished in a burst of light, only to appear behind Arash as she deactivated the blink dagger. He turned, but not fast enough, and she crashed into him, sending them both toppling to the ground. He threw her off of him as she struck with a psi blade, and suddenly the world exploded into searing violet light.

The crystal! he realised, and then a searing pain filled him as Radiant essence attempted to burn away the Dire. Arash's eyes widened in shock as his hand began to change, looking more and more like…

A creep…

He ripped his breastplate off, shards of crystal falling away. Lanaya rose groggily to her feet, staggering a bit but righting herself. Arash looked at his hand, and it reverted to normal as he watched.

"What just…" the Templar Assassin began.

"I think I might just have discovered something," he replied. "And if I'm right, you're going to want to get the hell away from that Ancient."

"What are you talking about?" she growled, readying to resume the fight.

"The crystal is destroyed, neither of us has to die now."
"You don't *have* to - but then, you are on the other side."

"There isn't really two sides," Arash said. "Would it surprise you to know that both of the Ancients we're killing each other over are, in essence, the exact same?"

Lanaya paused, the blades vanishing from her hand, though he could sense she was extremely sceptical. "Continue," she said simply.

He spoke quickly. "We both know the Ancients exert an influence to serve over those in close proximity to them. This effect compounds somewhat the closer one gets to them." He held up the hand that had changed as the crystal shattered. "And exposure to their full power, it seems, will turn even a Hero into a creep."

"Your point?" Lanaya said, cocking her head.

"The Ancients keep each other in check, each limiting the power of the other. The destruction of one will restore the other to full strength - which, I believe, will cause them to completely take over the world, in essence turning everyone into a creep."

She looked at him, obviously still not willing to believe that she'd been fighting for a lie.

"You've seen some parts of my mind," he said, playing to weak mortal emotions. "Can you not see this?"

"Why are you asking me? Why haven't you just killed me yet?""I can't stop this on my own. But with a group of allies, maybe."

Lanaya apparently found this acceptable. "If so, who else will you recruit?"

He shrugged. "Whoever will listen. Who that be, I know not."

She was still for a long moment as she digested the information and thought of her options. Arash waited patiently, until the sound of movement inside the Radiant fortress roused him to action.

"Decide quickly!" he urged. "You don't have long."

She looked around, paused as if still uncertain, but finally nodded.

"I'll trust you on this," Lanaya said. "Where do we go?"

Arash pointed towards the river. "Away from here, and to someone who may help us."

They set off at a run into the rising sun. Soon, they had disappeared into the forest leaving no trace behind.
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Far away, a pair of eyes saw the newest events in the Ancient War.

There had been many casualties thus far, most of them dying in a fair amount of agony. In that regard, Chen's death was unspectacular, but the circumstances surrounding the warrior's demise were of great import to the observer.

Terrorblade banished the visions and rose to his full titanic height. Plates of soul-armour covered his true form, which was a dark mass of shadows and chaotic swirling energy. His head was crowned with a pair of sky-scraping horns, and his edged wings sparked with malevolent energies.

The Demon Marauder smiled. Nevermore's 'pet' indeed. As he made preparations to venture again into the mortal realm, he wondered if it had indeed been a good idea to resist the call of the Dire Ancient. Duplicitous though his goals might be, Arash's inference of the nature of the war was astoundingly probable, more so than any other explanation presented since the Mad Moon broke. This convinced Terrorblade to refrain from dropping the Shadow Fiend a subtle hint that his little hound may soon bite the master - not that there was a high chance of him doing so anyway. There was no love for Nevermore in Terrorblade's black heart.

No, Arash had a bigger part to play in this. He would need assistance, and perhaps he would find a demon after his own heart to do so.

Terrorblade narrowed his eyes and brought his blades together, the weapons fitting into one. With a burst of fractal light as if a mirror had shattered, he vanished from his sub-realm in Hell and appeared in a river.

He recognised the Tarn of Roshan. Angry roars inside indicated that the beast was locked in combat with a group of Heroes - almost certainly Dire, if the emanations issuing from the pit were any indication.

He strode quickly. With any luck - and he truly did have the luck of the devil, rather literally - he would encounter Arash and his companion as they fled towards their destination. The Shopkeeper, too, was a mystery, and his purpose in being here, while seemingly logical, suggested something greater. Could the Keeper be a part of this? It was certainly possible. Or maybe it was coincidence. Even a demon can plot more than necessary, Terrorblade thought wryly.

When the stall of the Keeper came into view, upon a ledge above the river just on the Radiant side of the battlefield, he was greeted by a rather fat old man, who grinned at him.

"I've been expecting visitors for some time now," the Keeper said with a strangely rolling accent. "I see you are no longer locked in the Hell of Hells."

"Foulfell has fallen, and the terror has been unleashed," Terrorblade replied. "You will have more visitors soon - I would wait for them before making a purchase, if that is acceptable by you."

"But of course!" the Keeper replied jovially. "Browse at leisure, I am sure you will find something that interests you."

His eyes alighted on an orb, shimmering with cold.

"The Eye of Skadi, an ancient pagan goddess long gone from the world," he was told. "It is said to confer the winter chill on the strikes of its bearer."

Terrorblade considered his prospects, and decided that while against his nature it was a good idea to pay for this rather than steal it. Wordlessly, he handed over a number of coins to the Keeper, who gave him the Eye with a smile.

"Your friends will be arriving soon?" he inquired. Terrorblade turned to face him.

"Arriving soon? I am certain. Are they my friends?"

The mask slipped, only for a second, and the form of the Demon Marauder seemed to shift, becoming hulking and massive, wings reaching far behind him and his voice deepening. Then it was gone, and he resumed his normal appearance.

"That is not so certain," he said.