Kritical Inferno: This Is Not My End
Story by unknownzerr0 on SoFurry
A short story set in my world of Kritical Inferno:
An Extinguisher on the verge of death lays defeated at the hands of his hyena opponent.
Blood filled the marten’s maw, red hot iron overwhelming his tongue. The world faded in and out of focus as life slipped from his claws. Flames of rage and pride fueling his spirit flickered out, leaving naught but ashes remaining. He had lost.
Every moment spent in the Ashen Lands was filled with the tension of death. Conflict was a universal language. All life knew it by heart, and it was spoken here at all times. The marten knew this. He spent his days learning to speak to words of violence. Writing death and ending life with weapons and magic alike. Unfortunately, he would be silenced on this day, his journey to extinguish the Ruin Flame ended prematurely by a foe he could not surpass.
His opponent stood before him. A hyenine figure clad in the dark plating of a fell knight. The brute was stacked with muscles, overwhelming strength rippling through them and straining his armor. The mustelid had gotten him good, claw marks and dagger cuts across the few exposed parts of the knight’s body. Each wound dripped fresh with blackened blood and glowed an eerie violet. Marks that spoke of the marten’s skill with a blade. But it wasn’t enough. The halberd piercing his chest and pinning him to the ground proved that.
The hyena panted, clutching at his own chest while calming down from the fight. Purple smoke poured out of his muzzle with each ragged breath. The Ruin Flame had claimed him already. It corroded his being with its all consuming wrath. He persisted now not as a person, but merely an echo of what once was. Living ashes doomed to wander the burning world until its end. Such was the twisted nature of ruin.
It was a small mercy, the marten thought to himself, that his opponent had not bore the fire into him during their battle. Even if it would not claim him in its inferno, having the flame eat away at him from the inside was excruciating. He had died screaming from that agony a few or so deaths ago. He did not wish to experience it again any time soon.
“You are skilled, I’ll give you that.” The hyena’s tone was that of admiration. Even though they were enemies, a sense of respect was shared between them. It was once said in the olden days that a conversation could connect hearts. This seemed to hold true even for the words of war. But alas, this would not change fate. Ruin had claimed the hyena, and he was compelled by it to set the world ablaze.
“Be honored. You will fuel the inferno.”
No, he would not. The marten would be denied death, just like he had been before. Just like he would be until the pyre was extinguished or claimed everything. But it was meaningless to say that. Words would not change the hyena’s actions. He had tried before, it was useless.
“Farewell. For what it is worth, you were a magnificent kill.”
A foot was placed upon his back as the hyena braced himself, muscles slightly straining. The halberd was pushed forward, cleaving the marten’s upper body in two with one slash. It was over in an instant. The flame of life was snuffed out…
…And then, a spark ignited upon the burnt wick. Once, twice, and the fire was awakened once more. Death had refused him yet again. His existence would still burn. But he would burn for himself. Not for the searing violet flames of ruin, but for his mission to bring salvation upon this damned land.
And so, once more, the journey began anew.