The long, wide hallway is very well lit. Not a corner of the room is cloaked in shadow, as is expected of a master of the arcane arts. Light seems to appear from no discernible location, as if the air itself is the source of light. An elegantly crafted carpet adorns the stone flooring from one end of the hall to the other, stretching over one-hundred feet, leaving less than a foot of stone shown on any side of it. The walls spanning the long distance are inscribed with various characters and runes, spanning every language known, some known to only a few. The words these markings form can be felt in the minds in those who are unafraid of what they mean. The fear, the anger, the unrestrained pain in the words would leave any fearless fool in a catatonic state until the end of their days should they be too weak in heart to resist them.

At the end of the long hallway before grand, wooden doors, the remains of a slaughter adorn the walls and floor alike. Blood cakes the walls, filling in the carvings of the characters, adding to their already indescribable haunting feel. Bodies of decrepit, human shaped creatures, mangled and torn apart by brute force and magic, decorate the sides of the hall. The bodies themselves leak a black-red blood onto the carpet, staining it with a foul stench of death. A half dozen of these bodies are piled together, linking their arms and legs together in an unorganized jumble. Their clawed hands lay motionless, some with broken fingers, others burned away with archaic magic. The teeth of these creatures drip with a thick drool, contaminated with a deadly disease the common man fears with due reason. One would not wish to begin decaying, pass to the next life, and leave behind a vicious monstrosity to do the same to their friends and family. Such a fear is irrelevant to the two people standing before the massive door.

“Are you ready?” asked one of the people. It is a human male, a few inches short of six feet, with fair skin and dark brown, wavy hair barely stretching past his shoulders. His face is stern and showing a lightly trimmed goatee. His clothes resemble that of a wondering mage: a dark blue tunic, black pants and boots, and a blood red cloak. At his side is a long sword in its sheath, burning with powerful, dark magic. On each of his middle and ring fingers rests a single ring, on his forearms are bracers, around his neck an amulet, and across his brow a metal band, all radiating varying degrees of magic. Around his neck also lay two separate amulets, one encrusted with a finely crafted jade jewel and another twisted looking symbol showing his religious piety. Upon his shoulder sits raven, watching the doors with great anticipation.

“You need not ask me that.” replied the second person. This one is a female elf, standing just less than five feet. Her skin is slightly fairer than the mage’s, and her hair is golden and silk-like, pulled back into a ponytail with several bands a few inches apart each, laying halfway down her back. Her cloths resemble that of a martial artist: her torso covered with a white shirt, pulled tight to her body with leaf green bands to move swiftly through the air, her legs mostly covered with brown pants, resembling the bark of a great oak tree, pulled tightly with the same type of bands. Her feet and arms are bare, showing muscles earned through years of discipline and training. Despite her elegant frame, she looks as if she wrestles with creatures at least three times her size on a regular basis. Though not as equipped with magical baubles as her companion, she still carries a few magical objects. She has one ring on each of her ring fingers, a similar jade amulet around her neck, and a great wooden staff, adorned with holly and mistletoe up and down its length. The staff is masterfully carved from a great oak, containing a heavy magic, second only to her companion’s sword.

“Just wanted to be sure. After all, this is it. This will be a day long remembered. Our vengeance will be fulfilled, and we’re actually being paid for it.”

“Speaking of our benefactors, what is the word from the general of the army?”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t contacted him since we came in this dungeon.”

Sitting next to the elf, a large wolf as white as snow and as tall as the human gives a small growl-whine and looks over at the elf, who stares at the human for a moment, thinking of how to respond. “Dante! You were supposed to keep in contact with him! What if his troops get overrun and the ghouls come down here for us?”

Dante looks over at the elf with a raised eyebrow. “Ghouls? You are concerned about ghouls?”

“Ghouls, ghasts, wraiths, anything!”

“Iatril, we can handle any of those things. Besides, whatever would be left over after fighting with the good general wouldn’t be enough to kill us.”

“Dante!”

“Iatril! See? I can yell your name too.” Dante says, smiling at his companion the whole while.

“You can’t say that! We are supposed to be working with them. What will you tell the king if the general dies?”

“Something along the lines of ‘You should have promoted a better warrior and tactician to general than that dumbass.’ Really now, what does it matter? He can’t do anything to me, and I mean anything. With the exception of the bastard we’re here to kill, I’m the strongest mage in all the land. Besides, even if he could do something, I have two dozen clones sitting in containers spread across several countries, waiting to be put to use.”

“Dante,” she says with sympathy in her voice, “the general is not a paladin. The king has no agenda against warlocks. You shouldn’t hate them. They are actually willing to help you.”

“They’re humans. They’re helping themselves and you know it. Look, we’ll discuss this later. If it makes you feel better, I’ll check in with the general.”

A small smile is shown across Iatril’s lips. “Thanks.”

Dante turns away and puts his hand to his forehead and concentrates. He holds the pose for half a minute before turning back to Iatril. “Yeah, he’s dead. Apparently, there are about three dozen undead dragons mounted with bodaks. Their gaze killed about one-fourth of the army, including the general. He was dead not five minutes after we entered this fortress.”

“But it’s high noon! Sunlight kills bodaks, doesn’t it?”

“Only if they stay out too long in it, which they did. It was a suicide attack, and a good one at that.”

The snow-white wolf whines again and presses against Iatril. There was silence in the air for a long minute before Iatril broke it. “I actually liked him.”

Dante set his hand on her shoulder. “I know. Human or not, he was brave, a quality I have not seen in many for a long time. We can make for him a proper burial when we return.” It was quiet again for a moment before Dante spoke again. “Let’s go.”

~ _ ~ _ ~ _ ~ _ ~

The chamber beyond the doors is dimly lit at best. Such a thing is not a trouble for either Dante or Iatril. Iatril’s natural ability to see in low lighting and Dante’s supernatural ability to see in total darkness is advantageous in such a setting. However, the one they seek has the same power as Dante. Indeed, he has quite a few powers that are the same or similar to Dante’s. Such can be the case with some powerful warlocks.

The room itself is circular. Bookcases line the opposing side of the room, reaching up to the ceiling thirty feet high. On the side with the door the two companions and wolf entered, there are bookshelves built into the wall, leading to a set of stairs on either side of the door, stretching into a semicircle and sloping down to match where the steps of the stairs are. The ground is made of stone bricks, only slightly smoothed from use. The stairs are wooden, made from finely crafted mahogany, and covered with the same type of carpeting as the previous hall, letting only a few inches of wood being shone on either side.

The three cautiously walk in, moving closer to the opposing bookcase. Once they walk past the center, they are greeted by a friendly voice, disguised to hide its malicious intent.

“Greetings friends.”

They turn around in sync to see their target standing on the landing above them. With a smile on his face, this man shows no visible malice towards the two. To one who can get a sense of feeling from others would say otherwise. This man has a short crop of dark brown hair atop his head. His face is slim and lightly tanned with only the slightest hint of a beard. His clothes give off the same malicious feeling that was hidden in his voice. His top is covered in a robe, black as the darkest night. His pants the same color, blending almost completely with his upper half, as well as with his pitch black boots.

“Aselith.” Dante says with nothing but contempt in his voice. “You would just stand there and smile at me, instead of making a first attack.”

“Ah, but that implies I need to attack you by surprise.”

“There are two of us, Aselith. You are a fool, and you will die as such!” Dante leaps in the air, taking flight and drawing his sword, heading straight towards Aselith. The raven on his shoulder flies off and hovers above the wolf. His sword is shaped like a bolt of lightning and appears to be burning with a fire within. Dante swings his sword at Aselith, only to have it blocked by a nigh invisible wall.

“You think I would face you alone? Perhaps. However, why fight alone when you can force someone to fight for you?” From behind Aselith comes a hooded figure, hiding his face, showing only a black beard from under his hood. He is dressed from head to foot under a black robe.

“Coward!” Dante yells and flies back towards the towering bookcases. “Come and fight me like a man!”

“Um…no.”

The wall disappears as Aselith lets loose a barrage of four flaming spheres at Dante. The spheres impact on him, exploding in a fiery blaze. Dante is thrown back into the bookcase and falls to the ground. At the same time, Iatril jumps up at least twenty feet into the air and diving right towards Aselith.

Aselith jumps back at the last second, letting Iatril slam her fist into the floor, greatly cracking the solid stone, leaving her hand unharmed. She quickly makes a gesture with her hand and shouts at her two enemies.

“BURN!”

A torrent of fire slams down from the ceiling onto Aselith and the hooded figure, both of which seem relatively uninjured. She then rushes the hooded wizard and unleashes a furious assault of punches and swift kicks. The wizard takes a few hits before flying up into the air, leaving her on the ground with her other foe. Aselith fires a ray of freezing cold at Iatril, hitting her directly in the back.

“Gah!” she cries out before turning her attention to her attacker.

“Where’s your mate now?” Aselith taunts. He begins casting another spell, but gets interrupted when a pair of stone hands comes from the floor and grabs him. A very large earth elemental comes from the floor and pins Aselith against its body. A ray of black crackling energy strikes the hooded wizard in the air, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Over here.” Dante floats over the balcony onto the floor. “Really now, don’t take over the mind of a wizard and have him fight for you without protecting him from life siphoning magic. A wizard who can’t cast spells is worthless. Actually,” Dante points his hand at the bound Aselith, “a dead wizard is even more worthless.” A green ray shoots from his fingers at Aselith. The ray shoots right through him and strikes the elemental instead, breaking it into a fine dust before phasing out existence completely.

“Wow. That looked painful.” A deep voice from behind Dante says, right before he is slammed into the ground by a huge black dragon. The sound of ribs cracking is heard throughout the room, followed by howling screams of pain. “Wow. That sounded painful. You alright?”

Dante lets out another scream, but this one full of magic, blasting the dragon with waves of sound, causing him to reel back in pain, covering his ears. Dante quickly stands, manipulates the magic in his jade amulet and begins shifting his form. In seconds, he takes on the form of a white dragon a little smaller in size than Aselith.

“Have at thee!” Dante tackles the dragon-shaped Aselith over the edge of the balcony.

The hooded wizard quickly flies over the wrestling dragons and begins trying to dismantle Dante’s spell when he is again interrupted by a blast of fire and falls to the ground. He is then pounced on by the great wolf and is held in place on the ground with the wolf’s jaw around his neck. Iatril walks over to the restrained wizard.

“Now then, let’s try and remove that enchantment from your mind there.”

While the dragon-form wizards fight, Iatril tries twice to remove the binding magic on the hooded wizard’s mind, failing both times. She then spent almost a minute trying to break the spell with words and not magic.

“Iatril!” The deep voice of the white dragon yells. “If you’re about done playing with your new friend, I could use a little help here!”

“I’m coming! Stay with the wizard, Flurry. I’ll be back soon.” Iatril stands up and mirrors Dante’s motions, taking the form of large silver dragon and attacking the black dragon.

The three shifted spellcasters wrestle for almost five minutes, clawing, biting, and letting loose their vicious draconic breath powers. At last, the form of the black dragon begins reverting to his human form as he is thrown up to the balcony. He lands with a thud, moving slowly as the other two dragons fly up and land on the balcony, changing to their own forms as well.

“Now then, time to end this.” Dante says, standing right above Aselith. “I do believe we have eradicated all of your clones, but just in case, I’m going to siphon the life out of you. If, then, I can trap your soul in a gem, I’ll know we found all the clones. If not, you won’t have the energy to enter a new one.”

Aselith coughs up some blood onto the floor as he laughs.

“Oh? Something I say seem funny to you?”

“You really think I wouldn’t notice you destroying my clones?”

“No. I think you would notice. Hence the life siphoning magic I’m about to use on you.”

“You think I wouldn’t be prepared?”

“No. You were prepared. We were just more prepared. Any more inane questions before your death?”

Aselith gives a soft chuckle and twists his body to face the pair of magic users. “Have you looked below you?”

Both Dante and Iatril turn their attention to the ground, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. The stone is bare and unbroken, with the exception of where Iatril landed. Iatril is the first to respond.

“There is nothing here. Your deceptions won’t save you this time.”

“Oh, no deception. I just thought you two would have been able to see it by now.”

With that, Dante turns on his magical senses, searching the ground for anything strange. Between himself and Aselith, he finds some magical symbol hanging in the air barely off the ground. After a moment to analyze it, he realizes what it is.

“Shit! Get back!”

Before they can move, Aselith shoots three fiery rays at Flurry, freeing the hooded wizard from his grip. The wizard quickly casts a spell, activating the rune. The rune glows brightly, enveloping the whole room in a bright white light. The air itself seems to bend and break around the rune. As quickly as it came, all the light in the room is taken away, leaving an empty void. A moment later, light was returned. The light wasn’t from torches or magically created, but it did seem to be all around. What’s more, they were no longer in the stone complex. On the ground was grass with various flowers and fungi. All around were trees stretching high into the air, attempting to block out the light of the sun. The trees themselves looked pained and sickly, as if they wanted to cry out.

They were teleported to a forest.

“Well, good job. You’ve changed the location of your death. I’m sure dying in a forest is much nicer than dying in a stone building. Now, if you’re about done prolonging the inevitable, I’d like to-”

Before he can finish his taunt, Dante gets slammed in the back by something. He falls to the ground, quickly floating up and turning to face his attacker. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. Before him stood a wolf. Not just any wolf, but a wolf that seemed to be made of wood. Around the whole group were a pack of these wolves, glaring at them with glowing, yellow eyes. At least two dozen wolves were coming into their clearing.

Aselith stands and faces Dante with the same smile he had when they came to face him. “Welcome to Equestria.”

END CHAPTER

Author's Note

So, this is my first fan-fiction of any kind. Real excited about it. Please be gentle with criticism. And by "gentle" I mean "ruthlessly explain what it is about the story that is lacking or is grammatically horrible, etc." Like I said, this is my first fan-fiction, so criticism is completely welcome. I'm also setting out the next chapter right away, just so the setting can be where it's supposed to be: in Equestria!