Seeds of Tomorrow

The 20th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations

At the Temple's exterior, the onslaught of Bashir continued as he unleashed havoc upon the Echten Knights and the surviving members of the Coven. The Thrall, the strongest of the Echten Knights, engaged Bashir upon the battlefield. The ground trembled underneath the steps of the two behemoths as they battled for control of the City of Dreams.

The woman dressed in white silks became distraught as she witnessed the lawless action of the participants in the bitter war. She could no longer remain silent as the fatalities piled high, and more and more dreamers fell. She began to speak out, her ethereal voice resonating through the room, "These lawless crimes cannot continue to go unchallenged. We must restore order where chaos reigns." But despite her efforts, her voice is drowned out by the sound of metal upon metal and the screams of unimaginable pain in the harsh realities of combat.

However, one man heard the woman's message and a look of disgust immediately betrayed his face. Sneering, Cedryk Orgoth quickly responded to the woman's message, "Your words are for the weak."

"Weakness is not measured by those whom bathe in the abundance of ignorance," countered the woman.

Cedryk laughed in amusement, "Gra cha cha cha. The Orgoth way does not allow for such weakness. Only the fittest and strongest may survive in war. The weakness leads to failure and failure merits death."

"Words such as those are spoken only by barbarians and power mongers," replied the woman in white.

"Gra cha cha cha cha, taste the blade of Orgoth!" came the words from Cedryk before he unsheathed his rusted blade and charged at the woman in white. The woman donned a gauntlet in her right hand and stopped the oncoming blow by grasping the rusted blade and shattering it to pieces. Cedryk glanced at the woman with an incredulous look in his eyes. He removed another dagger from the sheath strapped to his calve, and swung it at the woman. She made no attempts to strike back at Cedryk.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, Cane and Zar'tenya continued to lash at each other for their survival. Both warriors showed signs of exhaustion as the fight raged with intensity. Suddenly, Zar'tenya was struck on the back of her head with the hilt of a blade. She stumbled forward and turned around; glaring at the last dreamer she expected to strike her, Remulus. Cane descended upon her with a dagger clenched in his hands.

Cane's eyes widened as blood trickled onto the ground. He had impaled Zar'tenya with the blade but much to his disbelief, the assassin did not cry out in pain, she simply labored to breath. "He has casted you aside, Zar'tenya. I am now his favorite apprentice. You shall never find the redemption you seek. You will die by my hand!" said Cane in an exhausted voice, clearly tired from the confrontation.

"I do not seek redemption, Cane, I simply seek to survive," Zar'tenya spoke in between labored breaths. She spat in his face; and as he removed his hands from the blade to wipe the spit from his cheek, Zar'tenya quickly removed the dagger impaled in her avatar and stabbed Cane in his midsection. Her pale fingers reaffirmed their grip around the hilt as she twisted it further and pulled upwards on it, and it sliced through Cane's avatar. Cane stood up, and attempted to stop the bleeding as he stumbled about wildly. He crashed down onto his knees, and his avatar exploded revealing his soulsphere.

Zar'tenya lifted herself from the ground as the blood from her wound ran down her garments. She glanced at the soulsphere one last time and she placed her hands together. "Your treachery ends now, tyrant." With those words, the assassin claimed another victim to her long list of dreamstruck dreamers.

A soul essence appeared in the place where Cane's soulsphere had hovered seconds prior. Remulus glanced at Zar'tenya briefly as he approached Cane's soul essence. "You always were my favorite, my queen. You are so intent on surviving that you can overcome nearly the impossible…" He crushed the soul essence underneath his foot with a single stomp. Zar'tenya spoke softly, "Of course, my master."

Good and evil, black and white, and the many shades in between. What shade are you?

- The Chronicler