I stand above a barren valley. Dark sky thunders above, and the ground is black with curses and blood. Below me a war rages on, screams from man and creature spill out into the void. We are losing. The cult has pushed their way to our doorstep and forced themselves through. Turning the once lush farmland of my kingdom to a wasteland filled with death.
“It is time, my liege.” I take one final look at the battle below, and steel myself for what is to come. I turn and follow Nyx to the ritual site. Six crudely crafted pillars form a circle around an altar. On which sits a crown of flowers, woven together with black roses and noxbleum. I approach the altar and kneel. She takes the crown and holds it high and begins the rite.
“Corpore geminus, sed non mente. A fratre tuo nequam te separa. Dele malum quod liberos tuos vastat. Et victorem tuum sanguine tuo benedic.” The ground shakes as she finishes the rite. Vines burst through the ground enveloping the pillars in dark thorns. And a figure emerges from the shadows, The Black Rose. Nyx bows to him, presenting the crown. He approaches her and lifts the crown from her hands. Slowly he speaks, his voice like the darkest mist, enveloping my entire being.
“Surge, propugnator rosae nigrae. Surge ad animas vestras servandas. Surge in servitio Dei vestri. Surge, fili mi. Surge et libera populum vestrum a destructione. Surge, miles rosae.” He places the crown on my head and pain floods my skull. The war between the woven flowers rages in my mind, fighting for control of my body. I roar in pain, clutching the crown, trying to rip it from my flesh. But its thorns have lodged themselves deep. The Noxbleum causes my body to convulse, forcing my limbs to bend in unnatural ways. Were the Black Rose to lose this war, I will be left a mangled mess of blood and bones as my people are slaughtered.
The manifestation of the Black Rose kneels in front of me and caresses my face with his hand. His black eyes stare fiercely into my soul. “Be free my son.” A flash of bright light blinds me, cleansing me of the Noxbleum. When my sight returns, The Black Rose is gone, and Nyx is in his place kneeling in front of me. I meet her gaze, no tears fill her eyes, her expression is stalwart.
“Go my king, save our people.” I rise and charge into battle. Felling hundreds of the cult with the power of the Black Rose. Thousands of vines burst through the ground, shearing limbs from bodies and soaking the ground in corrupted blood. The tide of the war turns as I carve through the darkness, pressing the cult back towards whatever hell they crawled out of. As I ride through the retreating waves of corruption. Blades and teeth lash at my steed, several catching its front legs. Projecting me into the air. I land hard on the ground, rolling several feet. Slowly I push myself to my feet. A thousand eyes stare hungrily at my flesh. And soon I am enveloped by them. Cold metal pierces and bites into my flesh. A vile poison burns through them into my blood, constricting my veins, freezing my muscles. I collapse to my knees, struggling for breath. The dark shadow of the Noxbleum looms above me, its cold spectral stare freezes my soul.
I stare into them, my eyes full of rage and hatred for this wretched creature. Gathering my strength I roar, summoning a beam of burning light from the sky. The light envelopes the Noxbleum, setting the shadowy figure ablaze. It flails wildly, striking friend and foe, screaming in agony. I continue to roar furiously, pouring my entire being into the pillar causing it to burn brighter. Until I collapse and my vision fades. And as my heart surrenders to the poison surging through its chambers. All that fills my senses is the screaming of death itself, burning alive.
