Mystical Collaboration

Armored Scavenger's fan-fiction. Fourth part of The Scavenger Series #2: The Four Terrors.
The prequel to this story is The Mask of Simeon. The next story is The Noble War.
Enjoy reading and helpful comments are welcome! :)
== Prologue ==
The world was dark in the deep of the night, but somewhere in Pyrrhia, in some remote, hidden, and undisturbed place there was a lantern burning. It gave light to the dim shack and allowed a certain person to see what he was doing. 
There was no wind howling, but the crickets were chirping and the cicadas were singing. This place had been abandoned to nature, but it had a guest to serve that night. There was furniture, a few chairs, a table, a fireplace, but everything was rotting. A clock leaned against one wall, not used in years and its hand stuck at an incorrect time. 
He was writing something down with help from the lantern, a journal or diary he had been recording for a long time, longer than the house had stood. He drew a few images after constructing a paragraph. He drew himself, clad in armor and tall. Next to him he drew a boy, whose image he could not stop but to chuckle when he made out the face. He laughed out loud, amused at his drawing. It brought back hilarious memories. Then he drew a figure of a dragon, a peculiar one in a comfortable position and with a happy expression. The man smiled. 
"Meowww." A small white and orange cat walked through the open door and into the room. He made his way to the man, purred, and rubbed his side against the man's leg. The man reached down to pet the cat's head.
The man finished his drawings and closed his journal, which was almost completely filled. He then stood, stretched, and yawned. After closing his eyes for a moment, the second he opened them they landed on a decayed cabinet leaning against a wall. On top of it was a dark object, barely made visible by the lantern. However, the man caught sight of two dark eyes, appearing to stare deep into his soul.
"..."
The moons were beginning to disappear, but he had time to not care about being awake during the entire next day. Rest was what he needed, but before he retired to bed he went outside. 
The air was cool and the smells of the world welcomed him. He leaned against the doorway and stared at someone out in the forest. A dragon, the one he had depicted in his journal, was sleeping peacefully on the ground in some soft bushes and grass. The man stared at it, and thoughts began to enter his mind.
Soon.
The cat followed the man outside. He noticed it and picked it up from the floor with his hands. He carried it inside to feed it right before he would fall asleep. It would be the last tranquil night he would ever experience.
== Part 1: The Divine ==
=== Chapter 1: Scrolls ===
What could it possibly be?
On the western part of Pyrrhia, where the climate was cool and the coast was rocky, someone was looking through ancient scrolls and through his own mind. 
Possibly, but not likely.
The man was dividing the scrolls into categories, but the group he favored seemed to be overflowing with possibilities. He looked at one scroll, labeled Crimson Stone. He tossed it aside in the pile he did not care about. I'm not concerned about a stone that can produce eternal flame, it isn't important.
The man knew what every scroll was and what it contained, but that did not help him in his quest to connect everything to a particular one. For days he had no luck in finding an answer, rather, the correct one. He had felt the darkness, he had felt it crawl up his spine and into his skull, only to flow away like a stream or the wind. There could have been many explanations, but which one was it?
The man sat on a rug, frustrated. He took another scroll in his hand, gazed at it, then threw it across the room. He slammed his fist to the floor, his mind enraged. He saw a quick flash of light fade in and out of his room. It was followed by thunder and the sound of yelps from outside. 
He heard people scream, "The master is angry!" and others silencing them, "Be quiet!" 
Indeed he was angry, but he cleared his mind and walked over to pick up the scroll he had tossed away. It was not his answer, but possibly a clue to find it. 
Titled, Apocalypse, he read it. The scroll was very poorly-written, so unoriginal and inaccurate. Questioning why he even had it, he tossed it again, this time at the table. He looked at where it had landed, near a scroll labeled, The Blue Topaz Gems. That one was definitely not the clue. 
The man reached out to get another scroll, this one he hoped would clear everything a little bit more. 
"The day before he died, the king commissioned for his funeral to be solemn and well-attended. When asked if he had any regrets in his life, his majesty answered that it was for not living for eternity. However, we all know that he does still live on, not on this earth but in our minds and in our spirits. The hour he died all his life-force was transferred to his vessel," read the man out loud.
This is pointless, but so are the other ones.
The man stood up straight and moved closer to the entrance of the cave so he could get better lighting. He placed the scroll in the pit of his arm and took out another piece of paper. Surely this one is better, better than that one, at least.
The scroll was titled, Shadow Pearls. The man actually snickered, touching the necklace of pearls around his neck. He wore a brigandine, a sort of combination of armor and a jacket. He also wore boots and a scarf. He wore no hat to cover his white hair, but despite his age he did not feel weighed down nor restricted. It was as if he was young and alive, which might have been the case. 
He placed the scroll back on the table and continued to read from the scroll he had taken out before. One line stood out from his reading.
"The will of our king and our ancestors shall overcome anything poised to stand in the way of the posterity."
He reflected on those words, but then he felt worry. It was not he who was worried, he was calm despite the anger he felt before. The worry and fear he felt came from outside, among the hundreds of content and busy attitudes. It was one single thought. 
Just then he heard shouts. He walked over to the entrance of his cave, where a barrier was placed to keep anyone from falling off the side. To the right was a stone staircase carved into the hill. The man saw a group of four people push a young boy over to him.
"Master Razyn, we have someone for you!" declared one of the people, wearing steel plate armor. 
It's the boy who is worried, the aura I felt was from him.
The people bowed their heads when they carried the boy up the stairs and when they stood in front of Razyn. He was no taller than any of them, but his authority made his stand high.
He had the three woman and the man place the boy in his room. Looking at his scroll for one last moment, he put it on his table, taking one last glance at the title before he turned his attention to his new guest. 
The title was The Mask of Simeon.
"Master, our scouts found this boy in the Shogunate. They heard something strange and when they went to investigate it they found him, and an entire town, demolished," explained a young woman, whose hair was blonde and she wore a leather jacket with a raven patch sewed onto its sleeve. 
"We don't know what happened, but it appears that he is part of the Mazur Cult, from what few words we managed to get out of him," pointed out another woman, this one with red hair. 
Razyn looked at the boy, who laid pathetically on one of the rugs. His breath was shallow and his body had taken quite a beating, most likely from the scouts when they found out he was of a rival cult. For some reason they felt it would be best to let him live and sent it to their leader all the way across the continent. 
=== Chapter 2: Conversations ===
Mazur Cult, eh?
Razyn stood over the boy, who focused more on the aches and pains over his body than the man towering over him. The boy took a moment to stop thinking about himself and opened his eyes to see the elderly figure. The young man looked worriedly into Razyn's eyes.
The man wrinkled his nose and turned to his warriors. "Remind me why you brought him to me again," he sighed.
The female guard with red-orange hair replied with courtesy. Her eyes were a bold green and her skin was a natural pale. She was from one of the smallest tribes in Pyrrhia, one that did not have a nation to represent it. The entire tribe lived in one village, and this woman was the only one who did not reside there, by choice.
"An entire settlement was completely obliterated in the area that the scouts found the boy in. Thanks to some shaken survivors we learned that this boy was a part of the destruction, but we couldn't get any more details out of them."
I hardly believe this boy was part of anything, scoffed Razyn in his thoughts.
The other woman continued on with the explanation. "The scouts thought that this kid might know something about his cult, or the catastrophe, so we delivered him to you."
The boy looked down at the floor, trying to avoid the gaze of Razyn. 
What is he hiding?
"Very well. Tell the scouts they are exempt from patrolling for the next week. I will get everything we need from this child, but don't expect it to be much," declared Razyn, and the three guards left the cave, walking down the staircase back into the camp.
Razyn and the boy were alone.
Now, what do I do with him? Surely he knows something, anything. Razyn pondered deeply. Perhaps we can start on good, fresh terms.
Razyn walked over to a small shelf in the back of the room not far from his bed. On the third shelf was a basket of bright red apples, smaller than the giant varieties he had seen out in the wild. He had always wondered if nature supplied the dragons with giant fruit, such as blueberries the size of hands or bananas as long as swords. 
He carried the basket over to the boy, who curled up and rolled away from Razyn's approaching body. Razyn offered the boy as many apples that he could give, but the boy did not say a single word. Razyn expected such and placed the apples back on the wooden shelf. Razyn offered the boy water, a blanket, and scrolls, anything he had with him in the room.
"How about treasure? I can give you so much gold that you won't know what to spend it on! Both of us, together, we can live in luxury. I know some caravan routes we can plunder. The mountain routes always carry the most gold and silver-"
The boy stopped listening after the second sentence. He covered his ears and hugged the rugs tightly with his hands and arms. 
That's how it is going to be...
With great agility the man grabbed the boy by the collar of his tunic and pinned him against the cave wall. Tightly, he pressed the young man into the stone, whispering clearly into the boy's ear. 
"You have ears to listen. Use them! Or if you clearly don't need them I will happily have them removed out of the tenderness in my heart..."
The boy was squeezed into the wall, struggling to breathe and move. "K..."
"What!?" shouted Razyn. The old man was not really angry, but if the boy thought he was it could help speed up the conversation. 
"Konrad! My name is Konrad!" screamed the boy. 
Razyn let go of the boy, who crumpled down to the ground. 
"Konrad, I am not playing games here. Do you understand? Tell me everything you know about that village and why you were there!" ordered Razyn seriously. He would not be surprised if this so-called cultist knew nothing about anything. He had to try, however.
"I'm not saying anything, old man!"
"You will if you value your flesh!"
"Shut up!" hollered Konrad rudely. 
Razyn, feeling disrespected by such words, stomped on the young man. He repeatedly kicked and stomped, but none of them were particularly strong or forceful. The beating the boy had suffered before already put him in a bad physical shape. 
"I care...not," sputtered out Konrad. "My flesh means nothing to me."
"What were you doing in that town?" asked Razyn, knowing his method broke through the boy's mental barrier, I knew he would succumb eventually, not any later than I expected.
"Tsar Dmitry is alive and wants his throne back."
This kid is delusional.
"That tsar is long dead, kid. Stop lying or I really will be mad at you," warned Razyn.
"It's true, Dmitry is alive. We met after the destruction of that one port, and we had set on an adventure to reclaim his throne, which he lost to his brother and wife. Betrayed. He needed an object to prove he was the real tsar, and he did get it. Then he left me to die, betrayed by him and left in the dust as he flew off on the back of a beast!"
What is he talking about?
Razyn grinned, showing an emotion opposite of what he was feeling. "I assure you, Dmitry has been dead for a long time. He was killed in battle, not at the hands of his relatives. His brother loved him, and his wife even more so. Therefore, you are lying, which I told you not to do."
The cultist shook his head and gritted his teeth, then muttered to himself. "He said this would happen, he said no one would believe a cultist like me."
Razyn shook his head disapprovingly and walked away. Now he had to think of what to do with this boy. Killing him sounded like the most resourceful option. Wait, what object?
"What item were you looking for?" asked Razyn, stopping in his own tracks, looking over his shoulder to look at Konrad.
"Dmitry needed an item to prove to the boyars that he was the Tsar, a worthy ruler. Curse him. Anyways, he got this mask from the town, which later burst into flames."
Razyn thought about Konrad's story, and his mouth began to quiver as he asked another vital, critical question:
"Did he tell you the name of the mask?"
The cultist pondered for a second, then answered with some doubt in his words. "I believe it was called the Mask of Simeon. He told me a story of how the first tsar, Simeon, created a mask to crown his successors. However, it was lost during the Scorching, lost until now. Dmitry has it, and I presume he's going to get his throne back without me..." explained Konrad, with some sadness in his voice as he pronounced the last part. 
Fool!
"Konrad...you... believed him? Do you realize what you have done..."
Konrad kept his mouth shut, confused as a sense of worry began to crawl up to his head.
"The first Tsar wasn't Simeon. The mask wasn't used to crown the tsars. And it wasn't lost during the Scorching."
Konrad asked a question quietly. His own mouth was barely able to produce any sound as dread continued to fill his entire being and anxiety attacked him. "What are you saying?"
"That wasn't Dmitry! Someone tricked you into helping him steal the most dangerous item in all of Pyrrhia!"
=== Chapter 3: Visitors ===
Razyn went numb for a moment, his own words freezing him in his tracks. Who in Pyrrhia stole the mask and for what purpose would it serve them? He had a hunch, one he wished he wouldn't had to have considered.
"Tell me, Konrad, tell me anything else you know. Anything. This is serious!" pleaded Razyn, hoping he could get more information from the cultist. The cultist had gone pale, sweat pouring down his brow and he had a sickly appearance emerging. Konrad looked at Razyn with worry, anxiety, and most of all for something to comfort him. He knew he would not get any from this man.
The moment Konrad began to articulate his thoughts, guards began to pour into the room. Before they told him what was going on, Razyn felt something strange, but not in a terrible way. There were some elements of fright and uncertainty, but he really couldn't pin the feeling to one emotion. 
"Master, we have five visitors! Two of them are gem-bearers!" announced the guard with noticeable worry. He was trembling, his eyes were wide and his teeth were chattering. 
Razyn and Konrad walked out into the entrance with the guards behind them. From the wooden fence preventing them from falling off the elevated steps, Razyn glanced down at five approaching figures. They stopped at the foot of the hill, addressing Razyn in a respectful way, appearing to be desperate.
One of them was a female with a soldier's uniform and hat as her attire. One of the men wore a suit of knight's plate armor, with a sword and a black-and-white shield harmlessly put away. The other man wore a simple blue tunic and old boots, but Razyn did not know who those three people were. He did recognize the third man, a man from the Topaz Gem Prophecy, Aleksander, wearing chain mail. It took a moment for him to realize that the man they were carrying, the one with winged armor, was the hero of Pyrrhia.
"O, Great and Divine Razyn, we humbly ask for your assistance!" declared the knight, bowing down to Razyn. Razyn felt drama and false acting in those actions. This knight was only doing this to impress Razyn, which meant he really needed something. The other man and the woman did the same, but Aleksander held Wladyslaw in order to keep the limp man off the ground.
"What can I help you with?" asked Razyn curiously. Is that really him? I knew he had to have survived, I felt him still being with us, even if faintly.
"Razyn, we beg you to help us with our plight. As you can see, Wladyslaw Nowak survived and has returned to us. But for the last few days he has been in a sort of trance, his eyes never open and it appears he is in some other world! He mumbles things to himself, as if he is asleep, but it is not a normal slumber!" explained the woman. 
One of the guards looked at Razyn, who nodded at her. 
"All right, but all your weapons must stay outside. Guards, search them!" ordered the guard. 
One by one Razyn's followers frisked and checked the four of them, but kept Wladyslaw alone. Either out of believing this man was in a deep sleep and was harmless or because he was the man who saved the world, they did not place one hand on him.
As before, the five, one by one, made their way to Razyn, who met them inside his room with Konrad next to him and guards at the entrance. Aleksander and the man with the tunic carried Wladyslaw inside, laying him on the floor in front of Razyn. Razyn inspected Wladyslaw, and when he removed the hetman's helmet, the four did not move the slightest. However, inside of them they were itching to make sure Wladyslaw was safe.
"You say he mumbles in his sleep, a sleep that has lasted for quite some time now? What sort of things does he say?" asked Razyn, kneeling down and looking carefully at the hetman. 
"It is all very strange," answered the woman.
"He talks about shapes, glowing orbs, and darkness. It is hard to tell what these mean, but before he entered this state he said something out loud that was very disturbing," explained the knight.
"What was it?" asked Razyn again.
"Alas, we don't remember, it was so unexpected. Something about blood, terrors! Beasts and fates!" pointed out Aleksander.
Razyn nodded his head as if he understood, but frankly he wasn't sure yet. He decided to test one of his theories. He took his fingers and with them opened Wladyslaw's eyes. 
"What is his eye color?"
"Brown, I believe," said Aleksander. "Why are you asking?"
Razyn looked deeply into Wladyslaw's eyes, but he didn't have to, to see that something was very off. They were not brown like they were supposed to be. They were silver, like the slivers of the moons. They had a sort of sparkle to them, but this meant very much to Razyn. Only special people had this exact type of eye color, especially if they were not born with it. They were the eyes of a person who could see into the future, a prophet who can see visions.
Razyn hesitated, then closed the eyelids. He inspected Wladyslaw some more but when he reached for Wladyslaw's hand, the hand grabbed onto Razyn, who flinched back. 
Wladyslaw's eyes shot open, silver like they were seconds ago. He was breathing quickly, his face stricken with fear. Words began to come out of his mouth:
"Four terrors...the scarred wounds will reopen and this world shall pay the price!
All noble and royal blood will water the earth,
The ancient beast will rise to cleanse,
The will of the fallen shall return,
And the masters shall rule again.
Can this fate be changed, or will man and dragon fail once more?" 
Razyn stepped back. The other four people looked in shock at their friend, who all of a sudden came back to the world. Wladyslaw looked up at the ceiling, groaned, and sat up, shaking his head to further wake up and focus. 
Konrad hid behind a chair and the guards stood in their places, unable to move. Razyn went through his mess of scrolls, finally finding the ones he needed. At the same time he thought about the words Wladyslaw had said.
Four terrors. The first one I definitely know..."
Before he finished his thought he was interrupted. The woman spoke out.
"What does this all mean? What is he saying, Razyn? What are you saying, Wladyslaw?!" she questioned. Wladyslaw looked at her, dazed, but well-aware of what was going on from the time since he awoke.
"I understand parts of what he is saying," said Razyn, who memorized the saying and was writing it down on a blank scroll. "Four terrors, straight forward. He goes on to list them."
Aleksander began to pick parts and quotes from the saying. Razyn had an answer for most of them. However, he was absolutely clueless on what could be the most important part of the entire saying. He was stuck at the last three lines.
The four, the cultist, and even the guards implored Razyn to explain everything. Wladyslaw looked at Razyn, and Razyn looked right back, seeing something in those eyes. 
"All right, let me explain all that I know..."
=== Chapter 4: Understanding ===
"Well, I think it is quite straightforward, because at least I pay attention to history. Whatever this man is saying must have already happened, since some sort of scars will reopen," began Razyn.
Wladyslaw looked at Razyn, light-headed and having no idea where he was. Once his mind got itself back in working order he realized who this person was. Razyn the Divine and his Followers. An animus, the only one in Pyrrhia, or at least the only one who publicly advertises himself to everyone. Rumored to be specially blessed, but not confirmed.
"Thousands of years ago, before the Scorching, the prophet Jeremy told of the events of the Great Royal Massacres. Anyone of royal or noble blood was killed, from poison to assassination to pure accident. But all of them died the same night, but how? We do not know, but Jeremy warned us of the future. I am sure this is what Wladyslaw meant in the first line."
Wladyslaw gazed at Razyn with awe. The tales are true, he does know more about the secrets of the past than anyone else.
Razyn continued on with his explanation, covering the second line of the 'prophecy.' 
"The ancient beast, also known as the Beast of Judgement. Cor the Watcher warned us of it, and right he was. Mitterschlag was attacked by this beast; it has come back to destroy us for our wrongdoing. Thousands of years ago it reeked havoc on humanity, until it disappeared."
Konrad shifted nervously, remembering the monster that had attacked the port he was sent to. The beast was peculiar, looking to be a mixture of two different dragons, yet it was its own as well. Eight cannons couldn't bring it down, so what chance did men and women have against it?
The uniformed female spoke up after Razyn had fallen silent, deep in thought, but his mind was not heading to the place he was looking for. 
"What about the next three lines? What do they mean?"
Razyn's expression went blank. 
"I....don't....know."
Everyone gasped, suddenly terrified for their lives. They had figured that Razyn would have all of the answers, but hearing him admit he was lost put a heavy weight on their minds. The young cultist was not as frightened as the others as he felt he had nothing to lose, but he remembered something from before.
"You said something about the Mask of Simeon, what about it?
Razyn began to shake his head, his lips forming in a way like he was trying to say "no." 
"It can't be the Mask! It's impossible, it isn't the answer!" he exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously.
"It can't be, or you just don't want it to be?" asked the cultist. The Mask seemed to be the one thing that this animus wanted to stay away from. It was the topic he was so interested in before, but right now he wanted to avoid it completely. What made the Mask so special in the first place?
Meanwhile, Razyn's mouth opened and closed like a fish. He shook his head again, not as wildly, but still noticeably. He was biting his lip and tongue nervously, then closed his eyes for a moment and then spoke.
"If it's the Mask we are all doomed. Whoever controls it can take over this world," said Razyn bluntly, wishing he didn't. 
Everyone was already on edge, but this news brought about a whole new level of hysteria. Wladyslaw rose to his feet with lighting speed and placed his arms on Razyn's shoulders, looking him deep in the eye like a predator to its prey. 
Razyn returned Wladyslaw with a shocked and nervous gaze, both from what he knew about the Mask and this warrior looming over him and grabbing at him tightly. Aleksander had his fists clenched, sweat pouring down his head. The uniformed woman was frozen in a state of shock, the knight was resting his head on his helmet, and the silent man was biting his fingers. Konrad laid on his rug, as if he had been stabbed in the heart. 
"Dmitry has it...oh three moons we are all going to die! He said he was going to change the world! ITS ALL MY FAULT OH THREE MOONS I DID THIS!!!" Konrad broke down into tears right then and there, weeping loudly, which made everyone else wince in pain.
"It isn't Dmitry, Konrad, I've explained that. I can't utter the name of who I think it is. I don't know if it's really that person, but if it is, this world is in danger. If you think Clauseus trying to kill all the dragons was bad, if you think the Scorching was bad, you can't imagine what could happen next."
The knight took his head off of his helmet and asked a question. "Why is this mask so dangerous?"
Razyn skipped a breathe, looked straight at the knight, making him uncomfortable, and words carefully came out of his mouth. 
"No one remembers anything about the Mask, except me. It is a story that has almost been lost, only kept alive by word of mouth. No one has written it down, no one has dared. Even the mere mention of the mask itself exists in only a few scrolls, of which I have one."
"So...what about the Mask! Get on with it!" screamed one of Razyn's guards, the female with red hair and steel armor.
"At the dawn of civilization there was a king, and his name was Simeon, not the tsar Konrad thought he was. He was the first ruler of any nation, tribe, or kingdom. He was obsessed with one thing, and that was leaving a mark. He was the first known animus ever recorded, because long ago they were revered almost as gods. He wanted power, he wanted to control everything he could lay his eyes on," explained Razyn.
Everyone was listening intently to Razyn's tale, awed at the story that was thousands of years old.
"But he faced one obstacle: death. He never had enough soldiers to fight for him, and all the ones he sent off to war died. He couldn't wait for the next generation of warriors to grow up. His empire was already vast, rich, and strong. He might sound greedy and bloody, but let me tell you that he was wise and caring. He saw the dragons in the air and knew they were dangerous even before their first fire set his kingdom in flames. That was when he found a solution."
Razyn took a break; his throat very dry from all the talking. He drank some water and hurriedly went on with his tale.
"He had immense power, greater than anyone in all of history. No one else would ever match it. His only option was to overcome death itself. He had to make sure the death of his soldiers did not end their service to him. That is why he created the Mask, to have his army come back to life and fight for him. When he wore that Mask on his head he was the most powerful and most dangerous man in history. He stopped conquering, however, as he realized he was dying. Ironic, isn't it, that he could cheat the death of his warriors, but not his own."
No one responded to the small bit of humor Razyn included in his story. Everyone was listening, thinking of what power and trouble this mask could cause.
"If you remember the stories of the West and East Empires, then you know the East won, but now you know how. This mask was used multiple times in the exact opposite way Simeon wanted it to be used. He didn't want the future to act like he did, he wanted peace and safety. But empire after empire used the mask for their own greedy reasons. They kept their armies fighting after death, until they died themselves. Then it made it to the hands of another ruler, then another, until it was finally lost during the Scorching, like everything else," concluded Razyn.
Razyn had seemed to become more calm after taking a lot of time to talk, but he observed that the others were far from that point.
Wladyslaw, who had fallen back to lean on a wall, closed his eyes, breathed heavily, and said nervously, "So. You are saying...that...whoever has this mask...can resurrect....an ARMY!"
"Not just an army, Wladyslaw. Whoever has this mask can bring life back to ALL of the warriors that have died! From the time the Mask was created, all their essence, all their will can return. Thousands of years worth of warriors can be brought back at one!"
Wladyslaw gasped.
Razyn didn't feel it would be wrong to laugh at this time, even though it was the worst possible moment he could show some joy. However, figuring it didn't matter, he snickered sadly.
"Well, on the bright side, we know what "the will of the fallen will return" part means."
== Part 2: Ancient Ties ==
=== Chapter 5: Into the Heat ===
The heat is far too much for any living person. That was the thought of the three people who made their way into the desert. Razyn, his bodyguard, and Aleksander had all agreed to it, or rather they had no choice.
"Come now, it isn't that bad, it will get better at night," called out Razyn to his faltering companions. 
Aleksander thought about what he was doing and why he had ever accepted this task.
Razyn had fully explained everything he knew about Wladyslaw's so-called prophecy, dissecting it bit by bit. Many nights ago someone had tried to kill all of the monarchs of Pyrrhia, but only partially succeeded. Razyn connected it with the Royal Massacre thousands of years ago, when all of noble blood perished. The Beast of Mitterschlag, as it was now known, was not making its first appearance, but rather it had existed even before the Scorching, if Razyn was telling the truth, which many did not believe was so. Nothing could have survived that long. And finally, the Mask of Simeon, the mask with the power to resurrect every soldier that had ever fought for any nation throughout history.
That was the very reason why Aleksander was there in the desert, looking for a solution. Back at his camp, Razyn had come up with a plan to stop whoever had the mask if they were going to use it at all. There were two critically important places in Pyrrhia where they could find the answers. 
Razyn created two groups, despite Wladyslaw's plea for unity. He had no choice, though, for Razyn would not agree to helping anyone unless they did it his way. Wladyslaw, Caspar the knight, and Kyra, the woman in uniform, were traveling to the ancient library of Terchen. Underground there was a giant collection of books and scrolls that might have the secrets of the Mask within. It was grand, but it was a library that had not been opened in generations. No one even knows what books were in there, but for some reason it was locked and never opened since.
Meanwhile, Razyn, his bodyguard, the woman with red hair, and Aleksander were traveling through the desert. Their destination was the even more ancient village of Sazur-erra, the oldest settlement in all of Pyrrhia. Razyn said that this isolated village was home to the descendants of King Simeon's ancient civilization, the Ne-Muma people. He believed that the Ne-Muma must know something in order to help them in their plight.
They lived in the middle of nowhere in the desert, not indicated by any map and hardly mentioned in any writing. Hardly anyone knows of this village's existence, though it was the last home of the first people of Pyrrhia's civilizations. Except for Razyn, who seemed to know about everything that everyone had forgotten. 
Relying on Razyn entirely, Aleksander prayed that the sun would go down. Everything was completely different from his home of Bielska, where it was either warm or chilly during the year. He also remembered the tundra, where it was extremely cold, but in a way dry like the desert. However, there was a difference between cold dryness and hot dryness, and to him he would rather be frozen in an ice cube. 
They had traveled for a long time, and more than once Aleksander believed he would pass out from heat and exhaustion. Once the sun began to set, however, his spirit rekindled. Razyn, his bodyguard, and Aleksander all wore a dull yellow suit of clothing including a turban. 
The desert was on the verge of chaos. The sultan had no heirs and the Guardians of the Obsidian Scepter were gaining power. The Aerulien Kingdom might step into the conflict if they saw an opportunity to weaken the sultanate. It was crazy, but the three had no time to pay attention, the entire world might be on the line.
The three built a camp before the sun had fully set. Around a fire they sat and ate a cold meal with hot tea. It was far colder than Alekander expected, but better than the day's blistering heat. They began a conversation to pass the time before they went to sleep. The topic of home was somehow brought up.
"So, where are you from?" asked the bodyguard, whose name was Maire. "You look like that other man who was with you, the one with the silver eyes."
"I am from the Kingdom of Bielska," declared Aleksander proudly. He was a nobleman, and though he didn't really consider himself to be one, he actually wanted to change that state of mind. He had grown up with a poor noble family, but noble nonetheless. He learned things of pride and honor as a child, and now they were coming back.
"I am a nobleman of the Koniecpolski family, owners of Koniecpol. A fine nation, I must say, honorable and strong, at least I hope it will continue that way with the elections for a new king coming up...say, where are you from. Which nation?" asked Aleksander politely. He was interested in which interesting nation she hailed, which of the fifteen spread throughout Pyrrhia. He could not pin-point which one from her appearance.
"The MacGreath Clan," she responded back. 
Aleksander's mind went blank. "Pardon, which nation is that? I've...I've never heard of it," he asked innocently. 
Razyn was sitting opposite of Aleksander, who was sitting next to Maire. Razyn had his legs crossed up until the point Aleksander had asked his question. Now Razyn was looking at Maire, bracing for something.
Maire looked at the flames, her face scrunched. "Never heard of it? I'm not surprised! It's not a nation, or at least not one to you. The MacGearth Clan is as much as a nation as any other, yet it isn't. My father is the chief, we have a castle and a village, we can take care of ourselves, we have an army. But are we a nation? No!"
Aleksander looked at her intently, not expecting harsh words to answer his question. "But it's not like the other fifteen..." he began, but Maire interrupted.
"So makes a nation a nation? Unique culture, check. Ruler, check. Land, check. So what makes those fifteen so special? Why just them? Is it just because they are the most powerful and everyone forgets the smaller ones. Or they just don't care? I think they just want all the power, they want to control us."
Aleksander tried to talk again, but that didn't work out.
"So are you telling me that my people can't have a nation? What about Kameretat, not a nation? Oh, wait, you probably never heard of them, too."
Maire stood up, furious, and walked away to her tent, leaving Aleksander dumbfounded at his seat by the fire. Razyn sighed and put out the fire, leaving the Bielskan nobleman and mercenary alone in the cold, dark desert night. 
=== Chapter 6: Sazur-erra ===
From a distance the village looked nothing more than ancient, sand-covered bricks. However, as the three got nearer and nearer they were able to make out actual buildings and soon they saw the first citizens of Sazur-erra. They were greeted by bewildered and even frightened people who had not seen strangers in decades; for some it was their first time. 
The village was laid-out in the most ancient style of city. Crumbling and dry high walls surrounded the village, but there were large gaps and even places where there was no wall. There were small flat-roofed houses made out of mud brick and a marketplace was located at the back of the village. There was a large oasis in the middle of the village, and not too far outside the wall there were smaller oases and even a creek. Though almost entirely dusty and dry, there were some patches of vegetation besides the crops grown by the farmers.
The Ne-Muma watched the procession of Razyn, Aleksander, and Maire. They all stood out, even with desert clothing and equipment.
Razyn spoke out first to the awaiting crowd. "Greetings, people of Sazur-erra. I am Razyn the Divine, and we come with an urgent mission. We need your help to save our world," he spoke in the Common Tongue.
Most of Pyrrhia spoke one language, the Common Tongue, or officially known as Common Imperial, named that way because it was the language widely spoken in the Pyrrhian Empire long before the Scorching. However, the people in this village were so isolated from the rest of the world that none of them spoke this language. Most tribes still had people speak their own language, but this village could only speak their language, a language older than any other surviving one in the world.
Almost no one. An old, white-haired, bearded man with a walking stick slowly made his way to the front of the crowd. As the spectators realized this they moved out of the man's way. They acknowledged him and respected him. 
Though his accent was thick and his voice was rasp, the old man managed to speak a sentence that Razyn could understand.
"You...come to our village, to save us? There... is... nothing to save us from."
The crowd did not understand a word he said, but they nodded in agreement anyways. 
Razyn asked another question, directed at the old man.
"And who are you?" he asked, looking down the old man. The man was short, shorter than any of the other adult villagers and even some of the children. He was also the only elderly member of this community, everyone else was young or middle-aged.
"Adad, elder and protector of this village and my people," the old man replied back, with more fire in his voice. Razyn looked at the man carefully, while Maire and Aleksander stayed behind and observed the settlement.
Adad stared at the three, then according to his custom he invited them in for refreshment and offered them a place to stay. He led them to a small house near the oasis, and let no one else go in with them. It was only for Adad and the visitors.
"Thank you, Adad," said Maire, who sat down on a comfortable rug on the floor. On a low table there were plates of food and containers of drinks, including a special tea made from rare herbs. It smelled like mint and dates, but it did not appear to be a combination of both. 
"It is our custom to provide hospitality to our visitors. Though, we haven't had any for many decades, until today. Which brings up the question: why are you here?"
Aleksander took this time to speak. Razyn was about to open his mouth and answer the question like he did every time, but he refrained from doing so. He wanted to see how his companion would answer.
Aleksander said, "We will gladly tell you our business, for we need your assistance. If I may, may I ask you a question first? It has been burning inside of me ever since you first spoke."
Adad beckoned Aleskander to ask his question with a small hand gesture.
Aleksander looked curiously at Adad. "How do you know our language, if you haven't had any visitors in decades?"
Maire and Razyn moved their eyes from Aleskander to the elder, who sat contently on the floor. Adad poured some tea into his cup and passed the pot around for everyone. Razyn preferred the cool melon drink that smelled strange but tasted delightful, however, he didn't want to be rude and refuse the drink that was being offered.
Adad then answered the question. "I am ninety years old, visitor, and I have not encountered a stranger in five decades. But during those first four decades of my life I had not stayed in this village. At two decades old, traders visited our village. They said they were traders, but they were traitors. They broke a deal and kidnapped as many people as they could and left. I learned your language that way, and escaped some years later. Luckily I managed to return home."
Aleksander listened to the short story Adad told. He nodded his head in understanding, then did his part by answering the elder's question.
"We are here because the world is in danger. Someone has the Mask of Simeon and we need to know how to stop them."
Razyn, Maire, and Aleksander all looked up at Adad. Adad returned their gazes, then sat back in his spot against the wall. He seriously, but calmly replied:
"So, it is time. After all these millennia, someone has finally discovered the mask and all the secrets in it. Every day I hoped this day would be put off, but I guess today it is time to pay up."
=== Chapter 7: The Ziggurat ===
Adad led the trio back outside into the hot and dry desert heat. While leading the group west, farther and farther into what appeared to be nothing but sand, he made a brief explanation.
"My friends, I do not know how to stop the Mask of our ancient king, Simeon, but I can show you a place that might hold the answer. It is the oldest and most wonderful of the ancient ruins. It is the ziggurat of Simeon, or at least what is left of it. Time has eroded and buried it away."
The four traveled, relying only on Adad to know his way to the temple. Razyn, like Aleksander and Maire, did not like the climate, but he was able to tolerate it better. There was no wind nor a cloud in the sky. The clear blue sky would have been a sight to see on top of a mountain, but here it just mocked the people who wished for water or something to block out the sun. The warm smooth sand underneath his feet dusted his shoes and began to hurt his feet with every step. Even an animus grew weary.
Razyn may have been old for most people, but unlike his companions he could walk without getting exhausted quickly. Aleksander and Maire struggled to keep up, while Razyn had to slow down for Adad to stay up ahead.
Razyn wanted to know everything from this ordeal. He wanted to know who this Simeon was and the significance of his ziggurat. He wanted to learn more about the Mask and know how to stop it. It was all exciting, but he felt his partners were not feeling the same way.
Aleksander felt tired and he gave off a disgruntled feeling. The mercenary was clearly not enjoying this walk, and a person only needed to see him sweat and his face scrunched up to realize that. Maire gave off a similar aura, but her expression did not match it. She looked content; Maire was not showing any real emotion.
Adad must know something. "Could you tell me more about this ziggurat?" Razyn asked.
Razyn did not even realize that the old man was far ahead of him. His thinking and continuous looking down at the ground blinded him from noticing. He should have felt the man's weary but strong and hardy nature pass him by, but once again he had been too preoccupied to do so.
"The Ziggurat of our king Simeon was the first wonder built in this world. It was a shrine to him and to the sun, and the place where he stood upon many times. It used to be located in the center of a massive city, but that is long gone. Today, the ziggurat is hardly the glorious monument it once was, but...."
They had reached the ziggurat, or at least its ruins. It looked nothing more than a few fallen columns and some crumbling stone bricks. There was a short mound of a structure around a circular depressed area, which might have held water once a long time ago. Razyn could only imagine how giant and beautiful this shrine must have been.
Adad continued on with his conversation. "But it is the final resting place of our first, our only, and our last king. Simeon was the only man or woman who we can say was our rightful ruler. No one was close to being as wise, or as tolerant, or as caring as he was. After he died, his empire was filled with hate and greed."
Razyn reached the ruins of the temple. The brick must have been heavy to use, which led Razyn to wonder if Simeon used hired workers or slaves to erect this building. The ziggurat would have been similar to the later pyramids built by the Aeruliens only a few hundred years later. The pyramids were tombs, and apparently this place was as well. 
"Underneath the ziggurat there are underground passages. I believe this is the only temple of its kind with a feature like this. Simeon was buried in a room filled with treasure and the Mask. But years afterwards when our people were conquered the tomb was robbed, but not all of it," said Adad, showing Razyn to the middle of the ruins. Aleksander and Maire reached the middle at that time as well.
Adad thought for a moment, looking at the sand, and then asked the three to lift a fallen piece of a wall and put it somewhere else. After doing so he began to dig until he hit a black, smooth plate. With a pickax, Maire crushed the plate open and shed light into the new dark tunnel.
One by one they slid inside, except for Maire, who volunteered to stay outside in case something happened. Therefore, Adad, Razyn, and Aleksander lit a torch and walked the halls of the ancient tomb. It was still difficult to see, but Razyn gazed at the walls. They were not what he expected. The walls were colorful, depicting ancient scenes and possibly the life of Simeon himself. Unlike Aerulien hieroglyphics, these images covered the entire wall, like a mural, but it looked like fine colorful glass.
Then they reached an orange and black door. It was a large entrance, with an image of a man, woman, and three children depicted on it with those two colors. The man's face looked just like the face shown on the Mask, but this image felt more alive and less haunting. 
It's here. This is it!
"We can finally beat Clauseus, we can finally beat him! Open this door," he muttered excitedly, and out loud.
Then he felt a confused aura coming from Aleksander.
"Clauseus? What...what are you talking about?" he asked, horrified and confused at the same time.
Razyn was about to slam the door open, but Aleksander froze him in place. Adad held the torch, looking at both Aleksander and Razyn without knowing what was going on.
Razyn turned around to face Aleksander.
"Did you seriously believe that Clauseus died on Jade Mountain?" he replied.
Aleksander took a step back, offended. "I was there, he fell off the mountain and into the abyss. He died because Wladyslaw took him down with himself!"
"Aleksander, do you honestly think that a man, an animus, who has lived for over three thousand years would die just from a little push. If your friend survived then only a fool would think that Clauseus perished," he retorted. 
Aleksander was having none of this. Razyn felt his anger and rage for being offended and for diminishing Wladyslaw's heroics, but he was also worried, just at the mention of the name of Clauseus.
"How can you be sure?" asked Aleksander desperately. 
"I have felt change, well rather, a return. I had felt an evil aura lingering around Pyrrhia when Clauseus was alive, then it diminished, but now it has returned. To be exact, however, it was never gone. This feeling has been with us for millennia, and even now I feel shakes and tremors and eerie presences."
Razyn then went to trying to open the door.
"You and your friends did nothing. You had the chance, you had the perfect opportunity to stop Clauseus once and for all, and you blew it. Did you forget how to use the gems, or did you think only throwing him off a mountain would suffice?"
Aleksander remained silent.
Razyn sighed, frustrated. "Am I the only one who knows anything? Why didn't you hold Clasueus down for at least a moment and place those gems on his heart and his mind. Those Topaz Gems were not only used to visit dreams and talk to dragons, my friend, they are to be used to suck the magic right out of an animus. That's right, you were that close to stopping that animus. But instead you accomplished nothing."
This time Aleksander spoke out angrily. "We did do something. We stopped the war, we stopped Clauseus from going to war with the dragons. We saved Pyrrhia."
Razyn, struggling to open the door, shook his head again. "You stopped a big war, only for that to lead to a number of smaller wars. Pyrrhia is divided like never before, and Clauseus is still out there. We are not done with him, and no doubt he is not done with us. The gems are now scattered throughout Pyrrhia with people not even willing to use them." 
That brought silence to both Adad and Aleksander.
Open, door!
Before Razyn could get the door open, before he could learn the secrets of the Mask of Simeon. Before he found the answer to stopping Clauseus and his plans, he heard Maire yelling to them from outside.
=== Chapter 8: Fallen ===
Razyn, Aleksander, and Adad all scrambled to get to the entrance where Maire was apparently screaming at the top of her lungs. Razyn felt that something was wrong. Of course something is wrong, I don't need anything special to realize that.
The three climbed their way back to the sunlight and Maire helped each of them ascend to ground level. When Razyn's turn came, as Maire was lifting him up, he felt something else; he felt exhaustion, worry, and even illness. It was not until he was finally on his two feet and looking out beyond that he saw that Maire was not alone. 
Hiding behind a large stone block that once was part of the temple was someone new. Razyn saw that this person was not used to the desert heat, and what he wore was interesting, but also not well-prepared for this environment.
"Everyone, this is a knight who came all the way from Terchen. Please, listen to what he has to say!" Maire said. Maire looked very frightened, and Razyn connected her feelings with the knight. A knight came all the way to the ziggurat, somehow knowing the way from Terchen, for what? Perhaps it was a message.
The knight was in no condition to speak. He had taken off his helmet and was sweating, drips of liquid falling into the sand, only to evaporate almost immediately. His armor was light, even the Remelians had heavier protection, but this knight had no experience. And worse of all, it was midday, when the sun shone the brightest. 
It appeared the knight would not be able to talk. Maire would have to explain everything the knight told her.
Razyn was the first person to ask the questions and demand an explanation. He was not thrilled to have been interrupted just before he would have learned the secrets of the Mask of Simeon and potentially save the world. 
"Who is this knight, Maire? What did he say!?" he asked his bodyguard. Adad went over to the knight and gave him a pouch full of water to drink. The knight drank heavily until he was temporarily satisfied. 
"Razyn..." Maire began.
However, the knight had recovered quickly and in loud and straight-forward words he yelled out his message.
"TERCHEN HAS FALLEN! TERCHEN HAS FALLEN! WLADYSLAW IS CAPTURED, CAPTURED!" he screamed out, taking a deep breath afterwards. He greedily reached for more water, but Adad kept it away, knowing it needed to be rationed.
Aleksander slowly approached the knight. "What..."
"Lord Cork sent me here to warn you! Pyrrhia is crumbling as we know it. The Masks are taking over, they took Terchen! Wladyslaw and his two companions were arrested and thrown in the dungeon!" he further bellowed out, trying to catch his breath still. 
"Who are the Masks? Who arrested Wladyslaw!?" yelled Aleksander, rushing over to the knight and crouching down to look into his eyes, wanting an answer at that very moment.
"The Masks? The Masks! I don't know what they are! They dress in black robes....or black armor, and they each have a mask....a glowing mask, with two holes for eyes...and a creepy mouth! What in Pyrrhia are they...swords and sabres! They will give me nightmares..." The knight shuddered at the last thought. 
"Who. Took. WLADYSLAW!?" shrieked Aleksander one last time violently into the knight's ears!
The knight jumped to his feet and staggered back into the stone. Meanwhile, Aleksander pressed for an answer. His eyes were wild, and the knight's were terrified.
"He had a mask....but not like the mask of the others. This one was different. It was grey, and it looked like the face of a man. I remember it had a beard....I don't know who it was. I don't know what in the three moons is happening to Pyrrhia!"
"Clauseus...." muttered Razyn under his breathe, but Aleksander had no trouble hearing. The mercenary had changed greatly in the last few minutes. Razyn felt something terrible in the man, and was further concerned when the Bielskan turned to face him.
Aleksander looked at Razyn with suspicious, mad, and hateful eyes. He looked at Razyn with a cold glare, a glare that even made the old animus shiver in the scorching desert heat. At the same time Maire began to take steps towards Razyn, appearing to want to block Aleksander from her master. Adad and the knight moved quickly away from the scene, but stayed to watch it helplessly. 
Aleksander formulated the words in his mind, then spoke with a cool, yet ragged voice. "You...you planned this. You knew about this the entire time, it was all a setup," he accused of Razyn. 
Razyn felt those words being directed at him. He felt great distress and rage coming from Aleksander, growing and growing.
"You sent Wladyslaw, Caspar, and Kyra, knowing darn well what was going to happen. Don't even try to lie to me, animus! I know you can feel everything. I know you felt something was happening to Terchen. That's why you sent them there, I can see through your shrouded mist of deceit," said Aleksander, approaching Razyn with one finger pointing out. 
Razyn looked back with a blank stare. He knew that anything he did to defend himself would backfire. He has me cornered...
"I didn't know...I didn't trick you. I am here to help you. Trust me, please, I had no knowledge of this!" replied Razyn desperately. 
Aleksander stopped walking forward. "Wladyslaw always said, NEVER TRUST AN ANIMUS! When Clauseus was around, Wladyslaw was right in not following him. When we were on Jade Mountain and he made the exchange for his brother, we knew not to give in. I won't give in now! I should never have listened to you! I should have known an animus would have done this! Why didn't I listen to Wladyslaw's warning!? Innocently sending my friends to their doom while you make me believe they are safe! Clauseus?! Bah! I SAY YOU ARE BEHIND THIS!"
Aleksander charged at Razyn, pulling his sword out of his scabbard and waving it around in the air. "DIE ANIMUS!"
Maire intervened and held Aleksander back, but she was taken by surprise when he actually pushed his way through. Adad looked on with horror, while the knight closed his eyes, not able to bear to watch.
Razyn dodged out the way and in a moment he was gone. Aleksander looked around madly for Razyn, but it was to no avail.
In a plume of smoke Razyn appeared back at the village, a little distance away from the mercenary. He had a little head start, but Razyn began to run for his life. Someone was trying to kill him, the world was falling apart, and he did nothing wrong.
I didn't know Terchen was going to fall...I didn't even feel it. 
Razyn paused for a second. A thought he was trying to push out of his mind finally appeared. Oh three moons Clauseus has awoken the dead. The Masks...the Mask of Simeon. He has an army of soldiers from the past, and he's taking over Pyrrhia. The last person anyone will trust is an animus, like me.
He continued running.
I can't explain to Aleksander that me sending Wladyslaw and his companions to Terchen and the take over of the city was a coincidence. Coincidence? Or did someone know? 
Terchen had fallen, and Razyn could do nothing to prevent the rest of the world from following the same path.
== Epilogue ==
Razyn had finally reached an area he deemed safe enough to sleep for the cold, bitter night. Alone, he could use his powers to quickly move about from one place to another. He hopped short distances until he left the desert for the mountains in the east. He returned home to his camp, which was the same as he had left it before. 
Along the way he saw strange glowing orbs in the mountains, They were very small, tiny dots he could say, but in the dark of the night they were easy to spot. If those were the so-called Masks, then even without knowing who they were was still frightening. His followers refused to sleep with the strange lights lurking around, but they felt safe with Razyn back home. 
Razyn entered his room, still cluttered with scrolls, books, and papers of all kinds. His bed awaited him, and sleep felt like his only escape from this terrible reality. He hoped none of this was real and hoped upon awaking everything would be the way it was supposed to be.
When Razyn fell asleep he dreamed about those strange orbs. They danced around in the pitch dark of his mind, happily and jubilantly. A nightmare of Aleksander and even Wladyslaw hunting him down, with him narrowly escaping came across Razyn's sleep. Then something strange happened.
He heard a voice.
Do not worry, dear brother animus, everything will be alright.
The voice sounded soothing, but Razyn felt something was wrong. It was too clear, as if someone was actually talking to him. 
Razyn, we will be safe again. No one will hurt us again. 
The voice became clearer than before, even though he thought it was clear enough already. An image was beginning to appear.
But...
The image was becoming strikingly and hauntingly familiar. It appeared to be very far away in the distance, but in one instant it was right in front of Razyn. 
If you betray us all...
It was the voice. It was the person wearing the Mask of Simeon! Its voice was as ancient as the sand and had as much authority as a king.
We will have no place for you...the world will have no place for you...we will come and get you...
To Be Continued...
Category:Content (Armored Scavenger)
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Fanfictions