Vent Thy Fury East II

Dawn of the Firewalker

by Dalton


Become one with the darkness, demonic protector. Shield yourself from that which you love most in the world, selfless Hunter. Writhe with evil and distance yourself from purity, chaotic savant. For now, you are nothing more than a slave to the evil of an ancient world… Rebirthed from the pits of Hell and dressed in scales of crimson… You are the Firewalker.

"Thy spirit hast transmogrified into the deepest of red… Thou hast become mine own flesh and smoldering blood. Doth thou feel powerful, boy? Heh, heh, heh… Take heed, noble Hunter… Thou shalt not contain such flames for eternity… Eventually… Gradually… Thou shalt break…"

The great demon, Moribalken, taunted the once great Monster Hunter, the one who sacrificed so much in exchange for misery and regret. It gnawed at his psyche and tore at his mind, making each and every day more difficult than the one that came before it. Yet in the years following the calamity of the Black Fatalis and its sinister pactmaker, Shinu, the noble soul would not break. Why should he? To break would be to throw away everything that the young man had sacrificed so much for. Doing so would unleash an inextinguishable flame upon the land of Minegarde, putting an end to any sense of righteousness he may have had up until that point.

No, he cannot break. Not this one. Both his strength in spirit and tolerance were unparalleled throughout the plains, hills, jungles, and mountains. Of course, that is why the beast chose him over so many that had offered their souls in times past. And this is why he would not bend to the will of the mighty Crimson Fatalis so easily.

Although after two whole agonizing years linked to the beast… Two years since the rise and fall of the Legendary Black Dragon and its counterpart, Shinu… The insidious natures of the wretched beast had begun to take their toll on the boy. It was becoming increasingly difficult to contain the creature's abominable rage. Ultimately, the tenacity of the dragon's will to instill chaos and wreak havoc should have crippled the Hunter's fortitude by now, just as Miraboreas, the Black Fatalis, had done to Shinu.

Ever vigilant, he would not break. Not yet, anyway. And as he walked those very same plains of Minegarde, mindlessly searching for and flushing out evil wherever it resided, lurking in the dead of night–the Hunter sensed something. Perhaps a foretelling brought upon and augmented by the ancient dragon's many gifts. He sensed a feeling he had not felt since two years prior. This feeling was hard to conceptualize at first, but he knew it. He recognized the sensation for what it was almost immediately. Conflict. Conflict between what factions, at what point in time, where, and other, minute details may have eluded him–but there was no denying the ominous foresight. Conflict awaited him, and possibly the entire population of Minegarde.

But where was the fear? Absent? Yes! Yes, entirely! For he was the most powerful, most terrifying, most formidable foe to set foot amongst these plains, hills, jungles, and mountains, was he not? Ah well… There is the supposed inquiry then. Let's just say: It would be ill-advised to be so headstrong, dear Hunter. This is true. There is another, much like you, in more ways than one, that has burrowed its way up from the deepest, darkest depths of the underworld you may soon face. And there are more evils that you have yet to conquer on your journey there as well. Evils far worse than the sadistic Shinu and his false idol; the adversaries you defeated two years ago.

Hide yourself from the light, noble Hunter. Distance yourself further from the ones you hold so dear… The ones that you gave up everything for. For if you truly love them… No… If you truly love, her… Then you would stay as far away from her as possible and live your life as the cursed man you swore to be. Just as you have continued to do for the past two painful years.

After all, that is the only emotion he was still capable of comprehending at this most sorrowful time, was it not? It is a deep and utterly terrifying pain… One that gnaws worse than Moribalken itself. It is only pain that allowed him to continue clinging to the world that was slowly fading into ruin. It's a powerful, soul devouring pain, that constantly reminded him of what he would never be able to accomplish… What he would never be able to express… What he would never be able to rid himself of… And how he would never be able to love her again…

So you would keep distance… Abandon the light and those who happily dwelled within… without your company… And with this… could you possibly stay content, dearest Firewalker? We will see.