With darkness settling in, and the weight of remorse and isolation in pursuit, the Champion waited on his throne for something—anything. Shimmer, the two annoying siblings, Jewel, even the rat! If the rat was still alive, that is. He wouldn't mind any company at this point. It was desperation.

As if his wish had been heard, footsteps could be heard down the hallway. Excitement surged in, making him rack his mind for what to say to Shimmer. He would say what he did, then ask for forgiveness—

"At least help me hold him up!"

"I am!"

The Champion lost all hope with a weary sigh. The annoying duo was here. He had no idea how they got in, or why they were this way, but he did know it was for business.

With grunts marking their entrance, the two shadowy figures walked inside. The first one had its back toward him, while the other was in the front. They were carrying something—a body probably.

"Is that the target?" the Champion asked, which made Nightstrider scoff.

"Uh, yes?" she replied, annoyed, then abruptly stopped. "Okay, drop it."

The body fell onto the floor with a thump. Moonlight illuminated only small sections of it, but the Champion could see a bloody rag over its neck. Still, bloodstains were elsewhere.

"It's all your fault!" Nightstrider complained, madly brushing her attire. "You fumbled the rag right when I did it! It got all over me! Ugh!"

"He... he..." her brother sputtered. Nightstrider stared daggers at him for silence.

"Next time we do it, you're the one slitting the throat and at risk for all of this!" she snapped, angrily slamming her cloak one last time before spinning around. "I'll probably have to get a whole new cloak... all because of one, little mistake that could've easily been prevented!"

"I'm sorry, Blosso—"

"It's Nightstrider! You oaf... I think Doofus will suit you fine as a name."

"Wait! What was wrong with Nightlurker..."

The two exited the room with their nonsensical arguing fading away. They left eerie silence in their wake, something the Champion was accustomed to. He moved his gaze down to the floor and scanned the moonlit body. It was on its back, facing the ceiling, but moved not a muscle. A corpse would always act this way. Forever dead, motionless—

"That's flawed reasoning," Jewel remarked, as he appeared above the body, which slowly became more hidden by the second from the rain of dark particles. Like its flesh was being eaten bit by bit. "But the body has arrived. Sacrifice can be made! This is but the first step of many toward the great door of domination and triumph."

"How did they even get in?" the Champion asked himself, then headed for the body. "It doesn't make sense. Unless my guards are useless and oblivious."

"Hm, they may or may not be still standing there—"

"What?"

The Champion was about to throw the body over his shoulder, but he instead looked at Jewel. Killing his men was an easy feat, though a crime. Sin. It wouldn't go unpunished.

"The girl has her way with humans, I don't know," Jewel responded dismissively, flicking his hand around. "Just pick up the body, go to the portal, and give it up. It's as easy as that."

"Hmph," the Champion snorted. In hesitant approval to the order, he tossed the body over his shoulder just for the blood to drizzle downward. The bloody rag was practically glued to its neck, so soaked that it barely held back whatever was left.

Though dead, they still bled. It was otherworldly, a true fascination.

"Get on with it!"

The Champion dismissed the voice with a grunt and headed for the door. Blood drizzled behind him to create a trail. Just like when he had killed those two the other day. Just like after every battle. It would always remain. The guilt, pleasure, remorse—it was all there to stay. The enemy could be dead, but something else always lived.

He opened the door swiftly, then barged inside. Upon the first step forward, hungry voices lashed out at him from all sides. He dizzily stumbled around until darkness began to crawl along the walls. As the red light cowered back, he could finally see and think clearly again.

Sacrifice... blood... relinquish to us...

The Champion stepped over to the blackened stone-rimmed portal with foreign engraving madly inscribed all over the sides, then towered above it. Light glistened in the pool of red, radiating a sense of sinister power no normal man could resist. His gaze remained transfixed on the rippling red water. He still wanted to jump in and succumb to its call.

"Throw the body in, not you!" Jewel demanded, as sharp shadows lunged at what little red light remained on the walls. Darkness controlled the room fully.

"Hmm," the Champion murmured. He hoisted the body, testing its weight, and threw it in. Just like that. It was as if he had shrugged it off. Like there was no corpse, blood, guilt, or anything.

Astonished, he watched the body drown underneath the water. Tendrils of the transparent liquid lashed upward and then wrapped around its prey. In a matter of seconds, the corpse was gone. Red light pulsed in greater strength, able to repel the darkness that once dominated the room.

Another... another... come in... tastier than the rest...

"Leave the room already!" Jewel exclaimed, trying to push the Champion outside. His grunts made apparent his exhaustion—whatever he was doing didn't seem to work. Red light began to crawl along the walls. Slowly but surely, it would surround the Champion on all sides. Where there would be no escape.

Closer... bask in our beauty... and you shall see true strength unrealized by those around...

The Champion clenched the edge of the portal with his gauntlets, his heart racing. His gaze was peeled to the red substance below. It gently rippled back and forth, back and forth... an endless flow of time. Gentle, smooth, calming. He couldn't even move, for every little ripple had him frozen. He wanted it as his own.

"What are you doing! Go now!" Jewel cried, strained with exhaustion.

"I shall grasp its beauty... and take its strength as my own..." the Champion murmured, reaching a gauntlet into the water to cup its substance and bring it into focus. To see what was inside of it. To understand. To behold.

A pulsating red from far within the portal boomed and thumped like a heart. Every beat seemed to rock the walls of the room, with red light immensely flashing everywhere. Darkness had no place here. No, it couldn't stand a chance. There was nothing it could to do. It lacked the power, strength, courage—it was the weaker option.

Just before the Champion's gauntlet's finger could contact the red substance that began to rapidly flow in higher waves, a touch appeared. It wasn't cold nor anything he was used to feeling. It halted him in place, his gauntlet shaking and attempting to reach for the liquid. It couldn't.

"You don't need anybody or anything but yourself," a voice whispered into his ear, coaxing and assuring him. He reeled back his gauntlet as his heart bloomed. Whatever shakiness or doubt he had vanished without a single trace. At long last, he pulled himself to his towering state. His hateful gaze remained toward the Evil below him.

"Such trickery will not fool my mind, appease my soul, create a mirage for what lays ahead." The Champion raised his gauntlets up, fury fueling them to the very tips of his fingers, like raging flames ready to explode. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to release them. To unleash havoc upon his foes. He lacked the mere courage to go through with it.

You need us dearly... without us... you will not know what's next... what's an obstacle... failure will no longer exist... the voice spoke, its slithery tongue hissing in defiance.

"The future may be uncertain... but I will embrace it as truth." The Champion clenched his gauntlets and prepared for impact. "As my duty, I will navigate the darkest paths. I don't need a torch bright as day to show me every crook and cranny. I will discover them myself."

Doubt... will be your undoing...

The Champion slammed his steaming gauntlets against the portal for the red light to greatly dwindle. The waves died down to small ripples. The voice lost its influence and power. Darkness slowly settled in as the Champion huffed for air. Steam rose from his back and out of his visor. He could see nothing but triumph and control.

"Out... out of the room before..." Jewel demanded wearily, with a cough that pierced the air.

The Champion spun around and stormed over to the door, where Jewel was leaning against a wall to recover. He grasped the door, not moving his gaze onto his pathetic excuse of a brother. An assistant. His support.

"Don't be so useless next time," the Champion said.

"I..." Jewel began, but the door had already been opened and closed. The Champion was back in the throne room, his focus immediately set upon the trail of blood where he had picked up the body.

The future was indeed uncertain. If he somehow did know the path, where it randomly bent or went backwards, he would be relieved. Whatever fears he would have... gone. Nothing would stop him then.

But he didn't need it. He wished to take on everything ahead by his own will. To experience, learn, and solve it. The pain, sorrows, regrets, it would all come with the journey. He wished to embark on it.

Weary, the Champion took his seat at the throne for what had many nights to come. Across the room, he stared at the window. Stars seemed to dazzle his gaze, made him sparkle in its magnificent sight, but then he looked at his right gauntlet. Opening the fingers, he examined the gem within that pulsed in light almost identical to the natural darkness around it.

He shut the fingers. With a heavy exhale, he placed it against his throne's arm and went to his other gauntlet. One glimpse at the palm, and a wave surged through him. It cleansed him. There was nothing in the palm, nothing to be afraid of or praised. That was the beauty of it.

Once that gauntlet was also flat against the side of his throne, he sat back and took another sigh.

He wouldn't venture down the path alone, it seemed.