Fire ignited along his hands.
Aslan charged.
Steel met flame.
The impact threw him backward, skidding across the floor. Pain shot through his arms, but he forced himself up, teeth clenched.
Again and again.
Each strike barely slowed Gladius. Fire scorched Aslan's armor. His sword burned, it was so hot to hold. The air burned his lungs and skin.
Still, Aslan stood.
"You won't pass me," he said, blood dripping from his mouth.
Gladius tilted his head. "Brave. Stupid."
He struck.
Aslan flew into the wall, breath tearing from his chest. His sword clattered to the ground. Before he could reach it, Gladius's claw closed around his throat, lifting him into the air.
Behind them, people screamed.
"Run!" Aslan shouted. "Go!"
Gladius glanced back and flicked his wrist.
Another strong burst of fire surged through the passage.
More screams. Then silence.
Aslan's vision blurred.
"I know what you are to Serphix," Gladius murmured, watching the light fade from Aslan's eyes. "A weakness."
Aslan coughed, blood staining Gladius's clothes, but he smiled.
"Then… he'll destroy you," Aslan whispered.
Gladius glared.
He tightened his grip and rose into the air, carrying Aslan with him.
Above the battlefield, the sound of war raged on.
ৎ────
Now.
Serphix's world shattered seeing his lover barely alive.
A blast of power suddenly struck him, Vicerion's weapon flared, sending Serphix crashing across the ground.
"Argh!"
"Don't touch him!" Serphix shouted.
Aslan moved.
With his last strength, he drove his knife into Gladius's shoulder.
Gladius groaned and struck.
His hand pierced straight through Aslan's chest.
Blood spilled.
Serphix's eyes widened.
Gladius tossed the body aside.
Serphix caught him just in time.
"Aslan!"
Aslan gasped, blood filling his mouth. "D-don't…worry about me," he whispered. "Go protect…our people…"
A shield slammed into place around them as Zhen, one of Serphix's loyal subordinates raised his hands, magic covered them from the attacks for a while.
Serphix stared at the hole in Aslan's chest.
"No," he whispered. "You can't die." Tears fell down from Serphix's eyes. He knew even Faylinn cannot heal something like this.
Aslan smiled faintly. "Don't worry. I…I'll come ba-…"
His hand went limp.
Silence.
"My lord…" Zhen said, voice shaking. "We couldn't contact the other kingdoms."
Serphix lowered his head, holding Aslan's lifeless body.
"I see," he said coldly.
"Surrender your head, Serphix!" Gladius shouted. "Or your people die!"
Serphix stood.
"I have no other choice, then."
Zhen's eyes widened. "My Lord! You know the consequences!"
Serphix placed a hand on his shoulder. "Take care of our kingdom."
He stepped forward.
The air changed.
Power did not merely spread across the battlefield.
It descended.
The air grew heavy, pressing against skin and bone. Soldiers on both sides staggered as if an invisible hand had seized their throats. Weapons slipped from numb fingers. Magic flickered and died.
Gladius's breath caught. "W-What's this?"
Vicerion took a step back. "I have no idea!"
They felt it…an ancient presence, cold and strong, watching them from behind Serphix's eyes.
The ground cracked beneath Serphix's feet as crimson light bled into the sky. His white hair darkened, turning red like spilled blood. Golden scales spread across his face, down his arms, gleaming like molten metal. A burning symbol carved itself onto his forehead, pulsing with divine power.
He lifted his head.
And the battlefield fell silent.
Fear swept through the invading armies. Men dropped to their knees, clutching their heads as screams tore from their throats. Darkness poured from Serphix like a living thing, swallowing light, sound, and hope.
With a single motion of his hand, the darkness surged.
It tore through flesh and armor alike.
"Gahh! Help us!"
Soldiers were ripped apart, crushed, burned from the inside out. Blood soaked the ground. Bodies dropped dead before they could even scream again.
The battlefield became a grave.
When the darkness withdrew, only two figures remained standing.
Vicerion screamed as he fired his weapons wildly, magic flashing uselessly through the air. None of it touched Serphix. The power surrounding him devoured every attack.
"Forgive me! Have mercy!" Vicerion cried, turning to run.
Serphix appeared before him in an instant.
"Mercy? What's that?"
His hand closed around Vicerion's head.
There was a sharp crack.
The body collapsed, bloody and broken.
Then Serphix turned.
Gladius was already retreating, heart beating in panic. Terror twisted his face as Serphix vanished and reappeared behind him.
The scream that followed was long.
And slow.
"You should die in the most brutal way." Serphix said his voice was different.
Golden claws tore through dragon flesh. Bones snapped. Fire roared, then choked into silence. Limb by limb, Gladius was reduced to nothing more than agony and fear.
At the end, Serphix held the dragon's head.
Flames consumed it until nothing remained but ash.
Silence returned.
The wind carried the smell of blood and smoke. The ground was soaked red. Not a single enemy stood.
Serphix remained in the center of it all.
Alone.
The crimson light faded. The golden scales vanished. His hair turned white once more. Power drained from his body, leaving only emptiness behind.
He turned away from the corpses.
He walked through the ruins without expression, blood clinging to his clothes, his steps slow and steady.
The palace doors stood open.
Inside, the world was quiet.
Aslan lay on the bed, his face peaceful as if asleep. Faylinn knelt beside him, tears streaking her face, because she couldn't do anything and she could not bring herself to speak.
Serphix dismissed them all with a single motion.
When he was alone, he approached the bed.
He sat down carefully, as though afraid to wake him.
His fingers trembled as he brushed blood-stained hair from Aslan's forehead. No warmth, and he couldn't feel him anymore.
No tears came.
"I'm sorry," Serphix whispered, pressing his forehead to Aslan's. "I was too late."
He lay beside him, pulling Aslan close, holding him as he once had on quiet nights when the world was at peace.
The curse took hold.
Darkness crept into his limbs, heavy and cold. His eyes closed as the weight of centuries pressed down upon him.
The world faded.
And so began the five hundred years of slumber.