The Correct Choice

In the midst of the chaos, with the fate of the world teetering on the edge of disaster, Eliss's voice cut through the tumult with a clarity born of desperation and resolve. "Go Amukelo, forget about me, save the world!" Her plea was both selfless and heartrending, echoing the magnitude of the moment. Yet for Amukelo, the decision tore at him with a ferocity that matched the physical battle raging around him.

His heart heavy but his resolve strengthened by her words, Amukelo made his choice. With a burst of speed that blurred his movements, he sprinted towards Eliss, his every step driven by a mix of adrenaline and an unwavering need to protect her. As he closed the distance, a roar thundered through the cavern—a sound of immense power and fury—as Erohan, now transformed into his majestic dragon form, soared towards the altar in a desperate bid to intercept Valarian.

Amukelo reached Eliss just in time, throwing himself into the fray with a force that stunned the assassin. With swift, decisive movements, he overwhelmed the assailant, his actions fueled by a potent mix of warrior skill and emotional turmoil. The assassin, caught off guard by Amukelo's ferocious resolve, was quickly finished.

Meanwhile, at the altar, Erohan's powerful form cut through the air, his claws extended for a fatal strike. But just as he reached Valarian, the dark mage's hand brushed the artifact, and with a whispered incantation, it vanished—spirited away by magic similar to Eliss's storage spell. Erohan's claws slashed through the space Valarian had occupied a heartbeat earlier, the force of his attack sending a shockwave rippling through the air.

Valarian reappeared a short distance away, his laughter ringing out, mad and triumphant. The dark smoke from his teleportation spell swirled around him like a cloak of shadows. "Amukelo, you could have stopped me. Why did you even bother to save that burden?" he taunted, his voice dripping with scorn. "She has only slowed you down." With those cruel words hanging in the air, he disappeared into the ether, his laughter echoing ominously as he faded from sight, just as he had done previously when he had stolen the first artifact.

The immediate danger now passed. Eliss, overcome by the events, fell to her knees, her gaze fixed on the ground. The weight of Valarian's words and the reality of the artifact's loss crushed her spirit. Tears streamed down her face, unchecked and reflective of the deep despair gnawing at her soul. The feeling of being a burden, a sentiment she had fought so hard against, was now painfully reignited.

Amukelo knelt beside Eliss, his expression one of deep concern as he gently tried to comfort her. Her sobs filled the cavern, each one echoing against the stark stone walls, amplifying the heavy atmosphere of defeat and despair. He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Valarian said that only to hurt you," Amukelo spoke softly, ensuring his voice was filled with sincerity and warmth. "And I don't believe you are slowing me down. You did everything right, Eliss. How could you have known that his cloak was fire-resistant? If not for that, your spell would have ended this madness."

Amukelo truly believed what he said. He saw Eliss not as a burden, but as a crucial ally whose quick thinking and powerful magic had repeatedly proven vital. "Remember the Abyss of Sorrow, or when we helped the merfolk. If not for you, I would have been lost. You've saved us, so many times."

Despite his comforting words, Eliss remained inconsolable. Her mind replayed not just the recent failure, but also past traumas—a time long ago when she had lost all her friends, a lingering wound that had never fully healed. Her thoughts spiraled, wondering if perhaps she should leave, step away from the mission, that she failed anyway to prevent further losses of her friends. Her grief was a tangible shroud that seemed to isolate her in a world of pain and regret.

Giving her a moment to process her emotions, Amukelo stood and stepped away, joining Erohan who had been observing quietly, his own expression one of mixed frustration and understanding.

Now back in human form Erohan asked, "How could you abandon the artifact?" His voice was low, careful to keep it from carrying over to Eliss. It was not an accusation, but a genuine question, reflecting his own internal conflict between duty and personal bonds.

Amukelo's response was calm and resolute. "Even if I had focused on Valarian, there's no guarantee I would have stopped him. It's Valarian, after all. He likely would have another trick up his sleeve. Those last words were just a desperate attempt to inflict as much emotional damage as possible. Unfortunately, it worked..." His voice trailed off, tinged with regret not for his actions but for the pain they had caused.

"If I had failed to secure the artifact and lost Eliss as well, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. Not after all these losses. After losing Kael, I decided I would never put the mission over my loved ones," Amukelo continued, his tone firm and unwavering. The conviction in his words was palpable, underscoring a commitment that went beyond mere duty—to him, the lives of those he cared about were paramount, irreplaceable.

Erohan nodded slowly, the wisdom in Amukelo's decision dawning on him as he considered the formidable capabilities of their adversary. "Considering that Valarian managed to get past some of the most capable people in this country, he undoubtedly has more tricks we haven't seen. Your choice might have spared us greater losses today."

Back near the altar, Eliss slowly lifted her head, her tears subsiding as she listened to the distant murmurs of her friends discussing the weighty decisions that had just been made. The support and understanding in their tones were not lost on her, even in her state of despair. As the conversation ended, Amukelo returned to her side, sitting quietly next to her, offering his presence as a silent pillar of support.