Soldiers gone missing was unfortunately a very common occurrence during these times of war against the Wraiths. Sometimes such poor souls disappeared and were never to be seen again, the only remaining proof of their existence was the memory of them in the hearts and minds of their spouses, children and friends. And sometimes, the missing soldiers would be seen in the battlefield again, but on the enemy's side, forcing old comrades to fight against each other. Reanimating the corpses of the fallen heroes and using them as puppets, that was what those filthy Wraiths liked to do. Their necromantic powers were frightening, but Perfect World was filled with brave warriors who would do their best to oppose this evil. In the end, however, would this be enough against the Wraith invasion?

Bravery and skill alone won't stop the enemy troops. Not even the greatest warriors could face the foe all by themselves, at least not in a long run. Even the mightiest can fall.

And this is probably the case of Mirskyn, the stormbringer.

Roughly a month ago he went missing. He was expected to deliver a report from Dreamweaver Port to Archosaur, but he never arrived. The distance between these two great cities was far and it would definitely take long time to make this travel, but it was possible to do it within a month. The general Summer in Archosaur was anxiously waiting for his arrival, but he never came. Nobody knew what had happened, nobody knew his whereabouts. Mirskyn had a great reputation, he was well known for his heroic deeds in the battlefield. Many thought that he was fearless and had faced many strong Wraiths all by himself, coming out of these fights as victorious. Losing a warrior like him was a huge blow to the army of Allied Forces. It seemed that most likely he had fallen while on his journey. Such tragedy. But even without this courageous Nightshade, the life would go on.

Rhynx, an assassin of the Tideborn race, had been quite close to Mirskyn. They had accomplished many missions together, traveling around Perfect World, fighting side by side. In fact, they had spent so much time together that they grew pretty fond of each other. They were sort of like lovers, even though Rhynx didn't really want to admit it. He used to be a cold-blooded killer, not valuing life, not even his own. But somehow, Mirskyn had managed to show him a gentle and warm part of life, proving him that there are other things in this world than just fighting, other things to cherish. And so, after hearing about Mirskyn's disappearance and the possibility that he was probably dead, the Tideborn had felt a sting in his chest, like somebody had just stabbed his heart. Emotions that he hadn't experienced ever before had risen to the surface, but he did his best to smother them. They wouldn't bring the Nightshade back, anyway.

The Tideborn did what he could do the best: continue fighting against the Wraiths. Even without Mirskyn. Maybe there was a drop of vengeance in his heart, and he wanted to avenge his beloved Nightshade's death. Rhynx's path had brought him to the grandest city in Perfect World, Archosaur, and while visiting this place, he got a mission from general Summer himself. Not far away from Archosaur was Wellspring Village, one of the residential areas of the Untamed race. Summer had got some reports of Wraith activity in the vicinity of the village, and the situation was troubling. It seemed like that the enemy was preparing a large-scale attack on the Untamed lands. So, the general gave Rhynx a mission to scout the area and do whatever he could to delay an assault.

The assassin had moved swiftly, taking his duty seriously. He had left Archosaur behind, following the road from the west gate of the city, heading to the direction of Broken Bow Bluff. The path would lead him right to the bridge that he had to traverse to reach his destination. Beyond this wooden bridge was where the Untamed lands awaited. Rhynx had crossed it, now finding himself near Wellspring Village, which was the lushest area of the Untamed territory. But the Tideborn wasn't going to visit that small village, there was some other place he had to check. So he followed the road forward, and soon found himself being surrounded the barren and dry landscape that dominated the Untamed lands. He purposefully strayed from the main path and made his way to Sparrowmark Beach. It was this location where the Wraith activity had been spotted, so Rhynx took a closer look at the area.

The Tideborn was skilled at tracking down creatures, no matter what they were. Animals, people, monsters, Wraiths… He would find almost anything. It had proved to be valuable skill during his travels through the war-ridden lands. Now, he wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for, but he did soon discover footprints that were left behind by something humanoid. As he was inspecting them, a sudden chill sensation ran through his spine. And he was sure that it wasn't just the cold wind that was blowing through the beach. There was a presence of something unnatural in here. Possibly a Wraith. Rhynx stood up and looked around. Nothing out of ordinary caught his eyes. But he was still wary as he began to search the area. He was a master of stealth, he was just like a shadow wandering among the trees, and just as silent. He had his daggers out, ready to strike at any moment.

He stayed vigilant as he investigated Sparrowmark Beach. Following the footprints on the sand, his only lead, the uneasy feeling that was tormenting him kept growing. But he pushed it aside, he was an assassin after all. He was slowly getting closer to a body of water that was called Pierced Heart Lake. And on the bank of it, there was a figure standing there, just as calmly and noble as a fine statue.

For a moment Rhynx stayed far away from that shady character. He was calculating in his head how to act in this situation. But as he continued to keep his eye on the figure, he started to have strange feelings. The feeling of something unnatural prevailed, but there was also something else. He felt terror. And strangely, he had this odd sensation that the figure standing over there was familiar to him, somehow. The Tideborn did take a better look at the entity, and indeed, there were some features that he recognized, even though the character had its back at him. The long, purple hair with white, a strangely-shaped horns… Rhynx's blood ran cold upon the realization that this person was indeed familiar to him.

It was Mirskyn – the missing, most likely deceased warrior.

And yet, there he was standing. But Rhynx sensed that the Nightshade had gone through a drastic change. His presence felt oppressive, malicious, nothing like before. He was practically radiating wickedness, something that would strike fear into the hearts of people. The horns crowning his head also bewildered Rhynx, because those were a trait he had supposed to have only in his Reaper Form. Other than that, his appearance hadn't really changed, at least what the assassin could tell from the distance. Mirskyn had a robe around him, black as a void, like manifestation of the darkness he now embraced. 

The assassin had to harden his heart. He sneakily emerged from the shadows, tiptoeing closer to his target. His daggers were ready to taste blood, and for a second, the Tideborn thought that they were lucky, for they were blissfully unaware that they would rip the flesh of a loved one. But this was what had to be done. It was his duty. Tideborns valued loyalty and traitors earned a death penalty, no matter if they were a friend, family or a lover. Mirskyn seemed to be an enemy now, cursed by Wraiths. To release him from this predicament, he had to be killed. 

The Nightshade turned around to face him. He had probably sensed the assassin's presence. Rhynx stopped, staring at the golden eyes of the tainted man. He felt another twinge in his soul as he looked at his old comrade, his lover. Mirskyn still looked the same, and perhaps, if he had gained a monstrous appearance, it would have been easier to kill him. Such a tragedy it was, that things had developed this way. It was torture to the Tideborn's heart, but he sought strength from the fact that this would bring peace for Mirskyn's soul and deal a blow to Wraith forces.

A faint smile appeared on Mirskyn's face, which surprised Rhynx quite a bit.

“Ah, my dear Rhynx”, the Nightshade spoke softly, as melodiously as he had while still alive.

Had Mirskyn retained his memories, or was this just a trick? The Tideborn couldn't tell. He stared coldly at the Nightshade, not uttering even a single word.

Mirskyn tilted his head a little. “What, you're not happy to see me? I'm hurt.”

“Shut up!” Rhynx hissed, gritting his teeth. “I don't want you to speak your vile words from the mouth of a great hero!”

“But I'm still me”, Mirskyn said. “I have just found new friends, so to say. They helped me, gave me power to transcend death. I want to return the favor.”

The assassin was seething with rage. How those filthy Wraiths dared to make him say such things? They were using him like a puppet. That Mirskyn he knew wasn't a power-hungry monster. Rhynx wanted to end this desecration now. He dashed forward, his daggers glimmering with bloodlust, and he tried to get his first slash in. But Mirskyn dodged it. He had always been surprisingly agile for a spellcaster, and it seemed like that he still was. He didn't have his scythe, his magical instrument, with him, so Rhynx had no idea what to expect from him, so he figured that best way to defeat the Wraith-controlled Nightshade was to be as offensive as possible. And so began their dance of death.

Furiously the Tideborn tried to slice and tear his opponent, but Mirskyn masterfully dodged every single one of his attacks. However, he didn't try to strike him back, it was like he was just toying with him. This enraged the assassin even more, he was supposed to be more nimble than the Nightshade. He let his fury guide his blades, giving hard time for Mirskyn.

The Nightshade made quite a leap, taking distance between him and the deadly daggers that were guided by vengeance.

“I still love you”, Mirskyn said, his lips forming a gentle smile.

But the assassin saw no affection in that expression.

“Dead men feel no love”, he replied, spitting the words out of his mouth.

“Such shame.” The Nightshade shook his head a little. “Together, we could have changed the world.”

Mirskyn raised his hand and stared at it, as if pondering something. Rhynx realized that he was planning to cast a spell and dashed toward the Nightshade, attempting to interrupt whatever he was intending to do. But he was just a little too late and was hit by a gust of icy wind that was strong enough to make him fall the ground. So cold was that breeze that he could feel it freezing his skin through his clothes. Suddenly his limbs felt very numb because of the cold, his movements became sluggish. The Tideborn tried so hard to get back to his feet, but it was difficult, and required a lot of willpower. But he managed, his daggers ready again as he fiercely faced his foe once more.

However, in a blink of an eye, somehow Mirskyn had moved right in front of him. Rhynx reacted fast and tried to swing one of his daggers at the Nightshade, but Mirskyn grabbed him by his wrist, stopping the attack. A momentarily confusion washed over him: when had the Nightshade become so strong? Rhynx recovered quickly from this light daze and tried to slash his opponent with his other dagger, but he wasn't swift enough and the same thing happened again. Now they were in quite a deadlock. The Tideborn leered at the Nightshade.

“If I can't have you by my side, then I'm afraid that I have to eliminate you”, Mirskyn whispered.

Rhynx noticed that the Nightshade's right hand began to change. There was ice forming around it, covering the hand completely. It was like a piece of armor made of ice. Around the fingers the formation took a shape of claws, and they were as sharp as metal. This was a bad sign, the assassin knew, but in this state inflicted by the cursed icy wind, he couldn't move fast enough to avoid what was going to happen. With very swift movements, Mirskyn released his grasp from Rhynx's wrist and struck his frozen claws into the Tideborn's chest. The assassin could only stare as the cold hand burrowed deeper and deeper inside of him. Blood was flowing, staining the dry earth. His body became limp as the life was leaving his body in the form of a crimson nectar. Mirskyn had taken a hold of Rhynx's precious organ, the heart, and teared it out of his chest. The Tideborn's lifeless body fell to the ground, still spilling blood onto it.

The Nightshade stared at the organ he had just snatched from the assassin's body. The ice on his hand began to melt away as he hold the heart.

“Ah… This heart has always belonged to me.”

And just like that, he took a bite out of the organ. And another. He gobbled up the heart like a hungry beast, the blood staining his lips. Soon he had eaten the whole thing, and nothing remained.

And thus, another great warrior had fallen in this war. Mirskyn looked at the body of the Tideborn for a while. He felt nothing. His dead heart was as cold as the element of ice he controlled. One last glance at the corpse of the man that had been his lover, and he began to walk away, toward death and destruction in the name of Wraiths.