Part I – The Black Sun Rises

The academy bell had not tolled in years.

Once, its ring marked timekeeping for the next generation of Koru Shinzo. Now, it lay among the rubble of the school, cracked like Skyfang Shrine and the valley it once protected.

Yurei stood alone in the village square. The rubble that previously made up shrines, merchant stands and homes spilled into the streets, littered with the festering corpses of slain demons and fallen Sylmarians, each stained a deep crimson by blood and flame. A lifetime ago, she had chased falling petals around the village well, her sister laughing beside her in childish innocence. Now smoke and heat choked the air, and the only thing that fell was ash.

She looked up and watched as the sky tore itself asunder, ripping as though the heavens themselves were recoiling from what came next. She steeled herself and fell into a defensive stance, exhausted but determined.

The clouds above turned a sickly black as the sun collapsed in on itself, its light swallowed by a churning void.

At the center of the void a terrible figure solidified.

Akeron. The Demon King of Ashkarath. An ancient monster known only by the horrors of ancient mythos and defeated only by the guardian deity of Sylmara thousands of years ago.

He emerged beneath the black sun like a god reborn, his silhouette framed by the lightless flame of his own making. Spider-like limbs of bone and muscle, a chest split wide with a toothy maw of jagged bone and within it - a single eye, ancient and unblinking.

Before him stretched a bridge of fire and brimstone, extending down from the tear in the sky to the ground at Yurei’s feet. He looked upon her, like an executioner standing high at the gallows.

And then he spoke.

“I am the hunger you buried beneath your guilt.”

“The storm your ancestors feared.”

“I am not here to conquer.”

“I am here to CONSUME.”

His voice didn’t echo around the valley, it was felt deep within the core of all beneath him; a deep rumbling beneath the skin, shaking teeth and bones with every syllable. Those who still breathed around Yurei dropped to their knees, clutching at their heads, praying for silence.

Instead, the screams began.

At the raising of his fist Akeron’s army flooded from the rift like rot from a wound - Bloodroses, Broodlords and Unmakers leading the charge. They surged across the valley, a sickening tide of crimson fire and peeling flesh.

And at the gates of the ruined village stood Yurei.

Alone and unyielding, she held her soul-tempered blade firmly in her hands. Her eyes fixed on the abomination above as she whispered a soft prayer.

Not for salvation, but for strength.

Six heartbeats later she charged.

A lifetime of training was realised in an instant as she cut her way through the enemy horde, each swing an exacting execution. Heads fell from demonic shoulders as blades, claws, bones and talons fell to the ground in her wake.

Yurei fought rhythmically, her lungs burning as she defended her home. Conserving her strength until…

Finally she saw her chance, the smallest of breaks in the sea of enemies that a lifetime of training could take advantage of. Dashing forwards she lunged upwards, launching herself off of the ruins up towards the Demon King, her heart pounding loudly in her head.

Yurei’s breath caught as her blade sliced through the air towards the grinning monster. Something about the situation was off however; something felt deeply wrong.

This was too easy.

As if to reward her intuition the dark lord before her scuttled to the side with unnerving speed, leaving the swordmaster’s blade pointed at the heart of the dark figure stepping out of the rift behind him.

Renna.

She stepped from the Demon King’s side like a shadow slinking from his frame.

Yurei blinked tears from her eyes. This wasn’t the Renna she knew.

A wicked grin twisted upon the younger sister’s lips, her once-violet eyes now a burning crimson. Riftmagic swirled around her, a static in the air.

Yurei stopped mid-strike, her heart lurching.

“Renna…” she whispered.

Renna’s grin deepened as she raised her twisted cane. With a sinister cackle she blasted Yurei back to the ground.

Yurei hit hard, rolling to cushion her fall. She barely had time to ready herself before her sister was on her again.

Part II – The Shadow of the Rose

The power of the rift flooded Renna, every muscle in her body was alert and surging with energy.

She descended into the ruined square next to Yurei, her feet touching down with a soundless grace. All around them the world burned - not with the chaos that Yurei had been trained to rebel against, but with true purpose.

They’d laughed at her. They’d cast her out.

If only they could see her now, finally whole beneath his beautiful black sun.

Across the battlefield Yurei rose, clutching her blade like a lifeline. Renna didn’t miss the look of defiance etched across her ash-streaked face.

"Renna…" she breathed again. Renna froze - hearing her name on her sister’s lips pierced her more deeply than she expected.

But she was beyond Yurei now, and no longer needed her recognition. Words wouldn’t stop her now. Not now that she was finally complete.

Without hesitation she loosed a volley of devastating magic that cracked the stone beneath Yurei’s feet and sent her tumbling back into the flames.

With a determined smile, Renna descended after her.

Perhaps at last understanding the danger of her situation, Yurei lunged from the smoke, her blade meeting Renna’s magic with a scream and a spark. A shockwave rolled outward from their clash, shaking the ruined bones of the village.

Yurei spun, fast as breath, her cursed blade carving a streak through the air. Renna bent beneath it, twisting with the agility and grace of a serpent, her cloak flaring. She responded in kind with a burst of Riftflame - an arcing sigil of screaming faces that chased her sister through the smoke.

Yurei darted across the broken rooftops, cutting through the phantasms with surgical swings. She was good, but she was ever so predictable. Eyes alight with power, Renna blasted the row of buildings before Yurei, reducing them to dust and sending her sister clattering to the ground. In moments Renna’s remaining spectral forces were upon the blademaster, tearing at her flesh. Yurei screamed in pain, before launching herself dozens of feet up into the air in a hurricane of precision slashes, destroying the final spectres before landing back on the cobbles, panting.

"You fight like you still wield a training sword," Renna snarled. "Do not toy with me sister."

"I don’t want this Renna,” Yurei snapped, darting forwards, “I’ve never wanted this!" Her blade grazed Renna’s shoulder, drawing blackened blood and a grunt of pain.

“Everyone wanted this!” Renna growled. She raised her arms, gesturing to the ruins they’d unknowingly battled through, ruins that a short while ago she and Yurei had studied within.

“Years I spent caged in this damned academy. They mocked me, beat me, called me weak - all while you soaked up their praise and adoration.

And now that I’ve clawed my way to power - now you decide to stand against me?”

“I never stood against you,” Yurei said, her voice pleading despite the lies. “I wanted to help you!”

"You think me a fool?" Renna spat back. Yurei would never understand. Not now. Not after everything. She had spent her life pleasing the same people who tried to break Renna into something she was never meant to be.

Passion giving way to rage, Renna roared her defiance. With the flick of her wrist she hurled a rift charge at point blank. It exploded, hurling both of them backward into opposite walls of the ruined academy. Ancient bricks disintegrated into a thick dust that choked the air. For a moment, all was still.

Lay among the stones, Renna laughed. She couldn’t help herself; had she not earned this jubilation?

"You were always stronger. Always loved. Always chosen."

She rose from the rubble, blood streaking her brow.

"And I was the shadow. The mistake. But look at me now, sister. Look at what I became without your unwavering light!"

Yurei didn’t answer. As the dust settled Renna met her glassy eyes. Tired. Pained.

Still, the last Koru Shinzo raised her sword.

Renna screamed, charging again. Blade and arcane fury met once more, rage against precision, wrath against resolve. They clashed across the broken village - through the skeleton of the academy, over shattered lanterns and through the husks of burning homes.

Each impact of steel and spell carved the battlefield further open, rupturing earth and memory alike.

And then…

Yurei leapt, blade swirling with spectral wind. She moved like a storm - a memory of the Koru Shinzo that had once defended a world - pulling Renna toward its center.

Renna raised her cane in protection, but she was too slow.

The blade hit her cleanly, tearing across her torso. Pain flooded her body, unholy and unrelenting. She screamed, collapsing to one knee, breath hitching.

"Renna," Yurei said, landing softly as she stood above her. Her hands trembled around the hilt of her blade as she held it inches from Renna’s chest.

In an instant a score of memories surged between them - of laughter by the well, of training in the snow, of shared dreams whispered in the dark.

So this was it. Even at her apex she still couldn’t beat her sister. The crooked vine, stunted from its time in the shadow of a perfect rose, would finally be pruned from this world.

Renna smiled, closing her tear-streaked eyes, her body stiffening in welcome anticipation of Yurei’s strike.

Part III - The Feast of the Demon King

The village screamed its dying breath beneath the black sun.

Akeron watched from the high ridge of splintered stone, jaw glistening with a sinister grin - open wide like an offering plate. The maw below his chest pulsed with slow delight, a cage of bone and sinew that housed an ancient eye, now burning with pleasure.

All around him, the remnants of Sylmara’s defenders either fled or bled. Corpses twitched in smouldering ruins. Hope, as always, had proved fragile.

But it was not ash that nourished him. Not flame. Not the flesh of mortals.

It was this.

Emotion. Regret. Ruined love.

A symphony of suffering, orchestrated over decades, reaching its final crescendo.

He drank it in.

Below him, the sisters tore each other apart, their battle so personal it bordered on divine. Spells crackled and strikes hissed. Words - more vicious than any wound - were hurled between them like daggers.

He had shaped this. Every cut of the blade, every tremor in Renna’s voice, every flicker of doubt in Yurei’s heart - all of it was his.

For they were not fighters.

They were instruments.

And their music was exquisite.

The Demon King extended a powerful hand. The Rift pulsed in response, and the world buckled around it.

Renna’s moment of hesitation. Yurei’s mercy, her final mistake. The crescendo was reaching its climax.

No sound preceded the thick tendril of webbing. It cracked through the air like lightning, barbed and wet with condensation from the void. It lanced into Yurei’s flank as she stood over Renna, twisting her limbs until she rose aloft like a marionette of flesh and failure. Her cry of shock and pain delighted him.

Across from her, Renna blinked out of her stupor.

Akeron stepped forward, his spider-like legs turning magma to stone as he made his way down the Rift’s flaming bridge. As he approached the two women, his voice poured into the ruins, low and intimate, wrapping around Renna’s mind like silk.

“You begged for strength.

You begged to be seen.

I gave you that strength.

Now… finish it.”

Renna’s cane pulsed in her trembling hands. Tears streaked her bloodied cheeks. She looked up at Yurei - helpless and pinned.

Akeron watched, reading the resistance on her face. He knew Renna wouldn’t strike down her sister, which made what came next so much more beautiful.

The Rift inside Renna roared as instinct moved where choice could not. Her magic erupted - a cataclysmic surge of spectral skulls and screaming faces - and struck Yurei full in the chest.

The explosion cracked the square. Akeron roared in satisfaction as Yurei was blasted into the remains of the academy, her body limp, her blade shattered and the final legacy of Boris and his precious Koru Shinzo finally ended.

Silence fell.

Renna’s breath hitched. She stared at her hands. At the cane. At the ruin.

Akeron stepped beside her. His shadow fell over hers, vast and cold.

He did not need to speak, but he did, for the pleasure of it:

“Behold, child. The rose at last wilts.”

He extended his hand, black talons glistening in the flames. Renna’s eyes flicked to it - then back to the rubble where her sister lay broken. Conflict rippled across her face.

She did not take it.

She did not need to.

But she followed all the same.

Behind them, Yurei did not move. Not yet.

Akeron knew she would. He had seen the spark in her eyes - that final sliver of defiance, that lingering ember of guilt, love, fury. She would rise. She would chase. She would fight again.

And that…

That was delicious.

Stepping back onto the flaming bridge, Akeron turned to the village for a final time. With a deep roar he inhaled, the maw in his gut widening as it pulled all that remained towards it. Stone, timber and corpses alike all dissolved into drifting ash and flowed into him. Entire streets collapsed inwards, revealing hiding stragglers that he delighted in devouring.

Once the feast was complete, Akeron started towards the hole he had torn open in the sky, Renna floating up beside him.

Together they stepped into the rift, vanishing from Sylmara.

The void cracked behind them like glass as the sky erupted in flames, a feeble attempt to cauterise a wound that would never again heal.

Words by Echo Seeker Kari