《Fallen Throne》 Tales of a Dark King "Mom, hurry! Let''s go!" A child, fairly new to the world jumped out from the back of the moving carriage. His hair speckled with dirt, ruining the sheen of his blonde hair. "Lu, don''t go too far, we''re trying to get some of the clothes I''ve made into the market by sundown." She sat in the cart, overlooking the small child dashing haphazardly through the thickets beside the dirt road. "Let the kid do what he wants, he''s at the age where he can do many things." "Age? Just look at him! Do you think he can survive out there, I just wish they''d remain the same." "Nothing stays the same darling," looking to his side to see his wife down, moving his broad hands over her head to pull her closer. "Everything will be alright, this is just the passage of time, for it is the God''s doing we must watch." She stared silently at the coachman, presumably her husband. Lu, returned shortly after, branches and patches of mud spewed all about as he climbed back on the back. The trail brazen in the open area, where trees were sawed and lumbered for. Numerous carts in front and behind, a caravan of natural sorts for the transportation of goods across the lands. Best to scare off bandits wherever due to numbers. All the carriage horses pulled up the large hill with the labor of pulled cargo. Lu watched on, staring amidst their destination, his eyes widened no further can be with the new sights behold. The caravan had been traveling almost two days, they were evidently going to be extremely close to the journey''s end. Hamlets spaned throughout the misty valleys, a mountain with unimaginable heights, speckled with white and grey was seen far out the distance. Far off the road were large fields of crops with unimaginable yields. Fully ripe and ready to harvest.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. But what caught his eyes wasn''t the flora and fauna, but the high castle that stood at the vast center. Stood behind the great castle of vast heights were small packed foundations for buildings. The castle was seen to have time standing still, the high walls of stone, the high spires that point directly towards the heavens. Even the outer walls paled in comparison in terms of heights. "Enjoying the view kid?" Lu turned around to see another man riding just behind them by tens of feet. He bobbed his head with great enthusiasm as if his head was going to rip off his body. "Isn''t she a beauty? Called Orithyne, the city of old. But would you like to know a secret?" A pace full of curiosity ready to face the world and all of its glory was nearly radiating from his face. "Do you know of the tale of the Dark King?" "Of course I do, I''m not dumb!" All kids knew of the story, a group of heroes who stopped an evil king''s rule. "Well did you know all of it is real? And that castle over there is proof! This was the city that the Dark King started his crimson reign." Lu looked stupefied at the city, the city he believed once was beautiful. To find out that all the catastrophes happened to the city. Did the story not recite that the heroes laid siege of the castle, why aren''t the walls tattered? "Don''t listen to him, those are just nursery tales made by the parents for the young who don''t sleep by the curfew." Lu''s father eavesdropped the conversation between a stranger and his son, deciding to join in before the man talks more strange ideas unto his son. The stranger didn''t seem to care as he shrugged it off. "Suit yourself." The man slightly flinched as a shadow from inside the man''s cart fumbled around to his side, undetected by others. Right ahead of the caravan was a pronged road, one leading towards the main city of Orithyne and the other leading to nowhere. "This is where we part ways! See you child, hope you go far in life." A slight whisper was snipped at the end. "If you survive." Lu caught on, not understanding what that just meant. He sat down into his seat and tried remembering the tale of the Dark King in depth. Milleniums ago, where no gods were alive at the time lied a kingdom of heretics ruled by their Heretic King. Benefitting from the absence, he ruled with an iron fist, killing those he believed was a threat to his lineage. He was an embodiment of true sin, envisioned by all around. But the birth of a new era came with a raging storm, the birth of the Seven Avatars. Made to represent their gods who''ve they had chosen to wield their power. With the combined efforts by all, they were doomed for failure due to his powerful nature. But with swift action, the Queen of the kingdom took initiative and stabbed him in the back, ending the battle once and for all. Thought to be an unfaithful wife, she was the avatar of the father god of the seven, becoming the head of their church and the ruler of the new Kingdom, set to revive the belief of their gods. Lu looked at the city once more, the high walls that stood alone in the empty valley where solitude could bring one to mention. How could such a large battle of valor and vicious nature partake here of all places? The year was 321 of the New Brion Calendar, the start of change and the beginning of the ascension. Summoned ''Hm'' A man in the fetal position drifted away into the abyss, the light was void as darkness sank. How long has he been here? For what purpose. To not be damned by the gods and sent to their toughest prison Zahatar? The Dark King, the man spoken by all tongue for his cruelty and multiple names throughout the realm. In the Elvish Clandoms as the Destroyer of Life. Dwarven underground as the Hearth of Chillrend. This man who sat in silence had many titles, one bearing much malfeasance to all living beings in the world. As the world remained bleak and void as ever, he wished to slumber once more. Time remained still but he remembered how long he had stayed here. 400,000 Years. He knew what the time was at all times, even if he wished they could stop. Trying to return back to his rest. However, a change brought full alert of the man, the darkness subsiding. A small chain began forming of white light, radiating blinding lights unimaginable to the human eye. ''What is..?'' As he spoke those words, the world immediately shined a bright light. ''Are the gods finally finishing what they started millenniums ago?'' He smirked, finally being able to have the sweet relief of interaction and potentially ending him. The chain pulled him closer to the bright light, slithering as if a snake creeping up his legs, gradually to his chest. Was he sad? ''No.'' Did he fear? ''No'' Was he angry? ''No'' A strange sense of peace was felt as he was slowly chained and pulled away to his impending nature. The ripples of the shattered plane of existence continued to show the radiating light, but as if it were natural, a dark speck was found midst the bright light. No matter where one goes, a world of light will have lingering darkness. A world of darkness will have the kindle of light. One can not exist without the other.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. The darkness, in this case, grew to quite a vast size, warping the light into a much bleak grey. Darkness continued to envelop the white light, pressuring greatly, creating spatial fission before finally. *Crack* The barrier of light and darkness broke and mixed furiously with no signs of stopping. The man looked at the reaction with a look of disgust. ''Years of preparation to put me in this prison and yet they can''t properly take me there?'' The air couldn''t handle the extreme pressure, creating a dense pocket in the dimension, cracking away at the physical existence. With one more step, the darkness of the void shattered to review reflective mirrors, shattered to show his reflection. As he took a closer look at himself, he was amused. ''So this is what I look like?'' As he watched as his body had no physical form, but a blazing blue flame the size of an acorn. Souls are usually blazing with a crimson flare to represent their life force. But his was a dim blue, a dormant flame. But at that moment, his appearance began to change to form a human physique, morphing away his soul as it transmogrified the dim flame, a human fully formed to what seems to be a somewhat youthful kid. His body was petite and seemed malnourished. You could almost see his bones with his paper muscles. His face was also quite flawed, a huge scar right on his left cheek that was formed most likely from an incision. The hairs on his head were black and his eyes, eyes of emerald green and chilling light frost. Heterochromia. The chain was still around him pulling him to the now dark shattered fracture in space. Unknowing what was before him. His perspective slowly dimmed as it was slowly devoured by the darkness inhabited in the fractured space, entering an unknown place of abysmal uncertainty. ~~-~-~~-~-~~ "Spread out, she couldn''t have gotten far." Two cloaked men in heavy metal armor both fastened their boots to set off. Another raised his hand, halting the movement of the two before they could go. "Don''t worry, the ritual already has sufficient ingredients for us to progress," as he started cleaning his blade with a pristine handkerchief, ruining the pristine condition of color. "But sir-" "No buts, we already have the magic seal placed, she can''t run afar without triggering the walls." The two men reluctantly loosened themselves, they were new to the group and did not know their individual strength. One began to place his blade up against the walls of the cave and rested his bottom near a stalagmite. But before he could ever do just that, he froze in place with a red ferocious aura radiating from the robed man. "I told you not to worry, but did I ever tell you to stop?" A voice with a sinister tone, angered by the gullible recruits. He looked back at the two newbies with utter remorse, he faced the dim torches, allowing them to see what was beyond his large robes. They both shook at the sight, a pale old man with little to no shine to his eyes. His expressions created a far worse image in their heads. The anger suddenly dissipated and the old man resumed a neutral face. "Take your time, have fun!" The hairs on the back of their necks both rose, they did not want to be in close proximity to the area, the stench of blood was already sickening. Rushing off, making sure not to step in any of the small puddles and entrails done by the messy deed of the maniacal old man. As they both left the cave, the old man resumed with cleaning his small blade, a woman placed on her back on the nearby table. Full of disdain and remorse of the perpetrator who killed her as a body laid naked with open wounds, dripping slowly from the table. "Don''t worry...it''ll be all okay soon," he touched the frail limp body void of color and heat. "You''ll be praised as a hero, for using your body as a tribute for the summoning of our King." Plunging the knife into the still corpse, he ripped out the heart in cold blood. The heart remained active as a dim beating was heard. *thump* *thump* The laughter of the man echoed across the air, if not restrained by the effects of the magic circle, people would hear the unstoppable laughter of an old man, hoarse from his laughter. All that came out was the sound of a hag. Confined The girl could no longer run from her chains, pulling her down as she tried to run. She passed through countless trees, too many to count and there was no time after all. Her captors would come shortly after. No matter where she sprinted, a wisp of fire would always follow, knowing she was already detected. The rattling of armor soon meeting up to her ears. Was this how she would die? Not without a fight! She looked back astray from her path, a large trunk of a dead tree with its implanted roots created a massive blockade for her to hold out. But what could she do against two armored men with most likely murder weapons? She shook her head and snapped out of her line of thought if she could find a way out before the mess could occur, she would use her final breath to survive. Her surroundings began to change, a small light of hope in her eyes. Just straight ahead was a depression where the topography changed if she got there just in time, she could potentially hide behind the trunks or in hollow logs away from their sights. The pesky fire continues to burn within her sight, but they were dim enough if one didn''t catch them within the first glance, it would be unnoticeable. She took one final push and dashed through, slowly increasing the distance between the two groups. How did she even get in this situation in the first place? She was just a small town girl, the youngest of the three brothers and sisters she had running the family. Her personality was very rough and much like that of a boy that acts tough. But with the situation going on hand, she was nowhere near that. If not for the adrenaline rushing in her blood, she would grieve for her family. Her feet blistered and tarnished from her efforts. She managed to continue unto the depression of elevation with ease without stopping her sprint. Just as planned, she went off into the sides where dead trees aligned and large rocks, the hollow trees almost painted out agonizing faces, the faces similar to that of her loved ones at their final moment. The screams one could imagine coming out of each their hollow. She found a desiccated log of a cherrywood, a tree usually used during their Gold Leaf Festival every other year, smoking wide varieties of vegetables and a whole boar, which gives it a cherry fragrance once finished; Needless to say, it was the perfect match. She crept in the log that must''ve taken ages to decay in its current state. The smell of dead cherries filled her nostrils and blinding her ability to smell and taste.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. She watched of what little vision she could have at the dead of night. The metallic plates of the men caused a great ruckus as they tried to catch up. However they began to slow down, her breath became heavy as if there were anchors on top of her heart. Am I gonna die? Is that all of what my life is worth? Her breath quickens. The sounds filled her eardrums and mind like it were the only thing in the world worth noting. Just before the log she was sprawled in, she tried holding her breath as much as possible. As the feet of the men was the only thing she could see, they were merely hair''s length before they would touch. "She must be close, let''s go." The seconds of suspense was gone, she let out a long sigh from her efforts. The adrenaline was wearing off, she felt the accumulated use of her stamina on her entire body. But before she could finish her episode, a head crept in the small peeping hole of the log. "Thought we wouldn''t see you, huh, brat?" Her eyes trembled in despair, this was her fate. - - -- - - -- - - -- The man who spotted her dragged her out of the log with little to no effort as her eyes seemed like a dead fish. "What''re we gonna do with her?" The man was new to this type of stuff, if not for the current financial situation they were in, maybe this wouldn''t have happened in the first place. A lackey of the Society of Fallens. The insignia of a hand wrapped in dark feather shaped like a wing insignia embodies their uniforms and tattooed on their hands. As they talked about the fate of the captive prisoner, her body did not move from the restraint of the man that could easily be latched free. They were brothers that were caught in the government''s scheme to destroy their homes of the hamlet as a construction of roads, they were without homes and jobs. The drawn out chase has proven too much stress for one particular fellow. His eyes beading as if he was suffocating from the unknown "Why...why don''t we enjoy ourselves with her. Yeah. We need to relieve some stress" The eyes of the man looked at the girl''s body as if she was an object, losing the color of his eyes. "What do you mean Adam? She''s just a little girl!" "So what, to further ourselves in the world, we must step over others." He couldn''t believe it, in just a mere month of what they swore, to return to their old life once they got their pay. Adam tore through her simple woolen dress, defiling her everything with his eyes. The other could not watch, he was able to keep his sliver of humanity from the dark. But the ties of family led him to think differently to stop the event laid behind him. ''Maybe he would become normal once he is done..'' He looked at the trees, same as before, hollow as ever. The molding of his perception saw the face of the sacrifices, each with their mouths open and eyes of desperation and pleas of help. The vision haunted him before he could not handle it anymore. He vomited, losing two day''s worth of food at that moment. He felt utterly sick as he heard the thuds of armor falling on the ground. Just before he could wander off, a grey light lit the forest with its radiance. "What was that!?" He watched the light slowly dim away, the same direction where they headed from. "Adam, let''s go!" "But I was just getting to the best part!" Though they were family, he already set up his priorities straight. His eyes glaring at Adam, causing him to feel unease and flinched. "Al-Alright! You don''t have to tell me twice!" He found his armor laying just a foot away and began rushing as he put on his armor. As he watched his brother rush away back to their camp, he turned back to face the little girl. "Though I do not agree with my brother''s action, there is some truth to his madness." Their lives were the example of the cruel fate. To step over others is the way to triumph. "I''m sorry, little one." He closed his eyes and plunged his blade down before it could reach solid ground, there was some resistance but not enough for the sharp edge of his blade. Running to catch up to his brother, his face shed new light. Branded A bright shining light stood near the dim altar. With what little radiance it had, it illuminated the crest of a skull engulfed in its own wing made with a grimy stone material. The man could not believe his eyes, his generation, out of all other legendary figures in his society, he would be the one to summon a Fallen? He crept up a stack of books meticulously stacked with each foreboding literary. Using his finger, stroking his finger by the spine of each book placed. All had dark tones in each their title in each respected ancient languages. Picking up the one he wished for, a book that had no design whatsoever, a design that would not alarm the kingdoms of their premise. This was their holy book, their bible that they adhere to follow. Flipping each individual page in a quick manner, licking his finger as if it was dire. He pulled up the page that he remembered in a perfect symphony. "Act 1, Once the succeedings have been done to summon a Fallen, he will use the society as his loyal subjects to create his kingdom. Oh, for so long have I wished to meet our king, to think I have done it!" Similar to all his other ones, this one had a much lighter aura, years of work placed into this one event. "To think one of our ceremonies finally managed to succeed." He wished he could cry right now, but his old age was never able to muster up the energy to do so. What came out was just a dry heave of sorts and trembling. As the light died down, the figure of a dormant flame descended from the sky, a bright light undermined the vessel fit for his reign. As if synced, the light dare say tried to break the light, not adhering to the realm''s law. It continued to break the efforts of the realm trying to secure their boundaries between the others. Each forming a magic seal before breaking. But just had it been done, the soul began meshing with the newly found vessel, connecting itself to is brain and heart, seeping to every pore of the body. This was not the last of the fire, but a reckoning to all. The magic seal that hid them from the world had shattered due to its ferocity. The light continued to radiate to the night sky, bringing the once tranquil nature into a ceasefire. -_-_-_- Somewhere in the distance, lied a huge city much huger than Orithyne. With walls of light and numerous chapels, no wonder it was called the Sanctuary to all believers. Its true name was given by the first Pontiff who dare formed her great hall sat. Paratheos. With well-maintained roads and the defense of many walls, many call this the Bulwark of the Gods. Each wall had different concentration of buildings and a great increase in mass, from small huts to cathedrals that house the officials of the church. Each with its towering spires that watch over the city with eyes, blasting all darkness away in the city. Its polished marble walls gave a strong purity that the church tried to embody into their architect during the time. Many have said new synthetic material could provide an even stronger sheen, but as a populace, materials created in the hands of humans are covered in sin. A banner of fourteen crests and a scale-shaped cross with curved arms. The banner of the Order of Patas. A so-called perfect alliance of fourteen kingdoms under the banner of the church. A grand building that scaled even the grand cathedral was the Hall of Light, the building that supposedly the Pontiff ascended into the high realm.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. With towering peaks and domes where the aspiring preachers en masse. Pillars that support the sky from falling on its own weight. Statues of saints with feathered wings provided the sense of abstinence to repent against the heavenly lord. Sat in the middle was a floating fountain. Floating pedestals allow the water to flow with serene motions as if there were no disturbance. Upon the large fountain and placed right in the dead center was a foundation of translucent material. A flow of mana kept it steady, letting the mass hover. A throne of white crystal smoothed and polished with an unmeasurable feat. Sat on it was a man standing ever so still. His white beard spoke pearls of wisdom through the ages and experience. His eyes remained almost pale in color, through the fading of time. The fountain was situated in a room with large doors. The door opened with the sound of clicks and chimes, resonating and bouncing off the walls of the great room. A hurried servant dressed in a white clergy robe, a scale woven in a manner of expertise resonated with air causing massive waves in the area. Unlike the scale that showed the perfect balance of two lights, the man was in no shape or fashion the same order. He was messily dressed and his blonde hair was messy, a sense of urgency in his eyes. Rushed with each footstep echoing in the room of the white hall, passed through multiple columns and even more statues of saints and other beings who were renown to the church. Not paying homage to heroes of the past, he ran to the edge of the fountain without stopping. Strange enough, his necklace of the curved cross shook, small pedestals of the floating platform began pulling to each of his steps, with erratic movement. One would be afraid that they would fall if they stopped moving for one second. before reaching the top of the stairwell, he arrived at the very top with the sprint he had to due to reach where he stood. The man on the throne awaited for the priest to kneel down before he proceeded with his asking, patience emanated from his body as a virtue. The priest calmed his breath as best he could before reaching the steps of the throne. With each step he rose, a bow was made and a verse of the first commandment was spoken. The first step. "Where they stood kept us in the light." The second. "To I that renew in strength and wisdom. Praise the everlasting God and his children." The third. "Be we wary, might we fright." The fourth. "For his kingdom has no end." The fifth step led the priest to rest his feet against the fourth and kneel, with his head lowered. Through the verse, he spoke with all his energy not to mess up with the entwined letters. Ending with one of the most used words of blessing of the Divine. Both spoke at the same time. ""Aldas Vediqiri"" (Al-dehs Ved-i-keer-ee) Though unknown of its origin, the word brought serenity and flow as the floating fountain could be seen. The man on the throne broke the silence with his voice of eternal power. "Speak." The priest awoke with his eyes showing great fear. "S-Sir." Practically frozen in fear, he was stuck in place, his mentality had been through the most enduring times. "Take your time, Seeker Curios." The words of the man were supposed to let him be less anxious about what to give to him, but it had done the exact opposite. ''To think that His Holiness would remember the lowly me!'' After a brief episode of rattling his bones, the urgency and the dire foreboding situation occurred to him. "His Holiness, The prophet of had brought a chilling message to our ears that must be brought to your ears personally." The man took out a white polished stone and laid it to the floor. With his hand resting on the stone, his hand emerged out a white aura of light, supposedly holy mana surging the stone. As the influx of white energy enveloped the stone, a mysterious text of runic language began moving up and about from the rock that had been written. Each letter began levitating before being let down once more. Once it had finished, the words began appearing one by one. With each word the Pontiff viewed, his eyes darkened. "Gather the council." "Right away His Holiness, but what would I tell them the reason for the meeting?" "Tell them...A purge will be commenced. A hunt of all cult members will soon follow." "Right away sir." The man rushed out at the same pace, with each dying breath of his sprint. The Pontiff looked at the floating message that came from the rock. Each word brought a chilling numb coldness down his spine. The King has been reborn, and the prophet is dead. He sighed. ''An unstoppable force is coming, and we are insufficient in stopping it.." He looked at the sky, a pure blue sky. - The Seeker rose the spirals of stairs. His journey through several checkpoints and marathon running was insurmountable. Just as he reached his last checkpoint of Paladins, he arrived at the ladder to his destination. Up the ladder revealed a large bell. The bell was not all that specially designed, rust had been forming and did not look as pure as the rest of the city. But instead of purity, it spoke with experience and wisdom of the coming of rust. Besides from the bell, a large rope was near. Though the unimaginably small rope was even smaller than the bell itself, it proved viable. With a steady hand, he rung the bell. With the enchantments placed on the rope dating back to the construction of the hall, it provided much ease for the Seeker. *Ding* *Ding* *Ding* As each ring brought a deafening roar to the area, smaller rings soon formed from the cathedrals, then to the chapels, to the churches, and even the holy houses chimed in. As it reached the outskirt of the city, large constructs of towers soon rung, reaching to further regions as times goes on. The message was heard and conveyed, all that came left was to wait. The smell of danger and the anxiousness of the bell that was never rung soon became the hot topic of the public. What is happening to them at this very moment? Awoken The robed man looked at the young youth made for sacrifice began to rise from his table. He set his holy book right in front of him and prostrated with his head locked in respect. "I, Gray Servant Morris welcome you, King!" The sense of accomplishment sent countless efforts of evading crusader patrols was all worth the attainment. The numbness of his fulfillment caused all of his fatigue to ease from his elderly body. Days of fasting was no more, as a grand feast awaited for his return to Sanctuary with their King would be phenomenal! The crowning of the Fallen was near. Morris braced for any questions answered but all that came was footsteps in the bloody puddle laid by the sacrifice. The sounds confused his mind and he replayed everything that would gain favor for the exalted being before him. Morris dared raise his head to see nothing and turned back. Their hard work was just taking off and leaving. No gratitude whatsoever? He rose as fast as he could to stop the man in front. "W-wait! Aren''t we''re your subjects?" He raced towards his front and placed his frail arms. The man stared blankly at him before raising his arm. Expectations led him to believe he was gonna be knighted by the King himself, blinding his thoughts. In his mindful stupor, all that came was a shove. Pushed aside from his position with the man wandering to the exit once more. Trembling was all he felt, his heart furious to the man before him. The source of all his anguish and efforts in vain worth nothing in front of the man. "You! You are not the King! Guards seize him immediately!" This was all a set up to get the King to do their bidding, a fail-safe for when the king was not of their liking. The body used to perform the ritual were usually weak. The two men behind them were awaiting some form of orders and performed their duty. The sound of swords being drawn as they approached the man in front. *Shiing* but their sense of unease was not the man that they demanded to attack. But the words that came out his mouth was of an ancient tongue, unable to translate what the words meant, they comprehended the ferocity behind those words. -_-_-_- The moisture in the small damp cave filled his nostrils. The dark dim torch lit up the surroundings, each meticulously placed to form a path to an altar above one of the rocks above the stalagmites. He swallowed painfully as the driedness slowly set in his throat. His eyes open revealing the emerald-green and the azure dots. The sound tickled his brain with the hearing of his own beating heart. The feeling of his entire back laid down on the stone cold surface, body not resonating any heat. ''So I am alive...'' His encounter of being in this realm brought his new composure to the world. Getting used to his bodily functions, he rose an arm in an unstable manner that caused it to fall back down. But nonetheless, his attempts continued before he was able to raise his entire body in a resting position as he sat upon the table. His eyes had begun getting used to the light before the very sight amused him.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Hundreds of bodies and hundreds of thousands of small gems with a purple amethyst sheen. ''What a sight to behold'' That was when he glanced downwards towards his lower regions. ''To think they got the size just right.'' A small chuckle sounded in his mind as he looked up. Three kneeling humans were in front of him, shaking occasionally despite him doing nothing. The one centered between the two began spouting out strange gibberish in his mouth, the words were estranged and sounded very horrible to his ears. His hand rose to analyze his own body; touching any parts available which revealed intricate patterns on his chest, shapes, and lines drained away his stamina continuously. Narrowing his eyes, he stood forward. Each step sounded his ears like a wet sensation around the puddles. He passed the beings in a sluggish way as he got used to walking. But as he done so, the one in the middle rushed towards him in an extreme approach, not caring for his feeble body, the sound of bones rubbing against each other on his thin build. The weird sounds came out once more and a grasp of cold hands on his arm. He would''ve felt a tinge of gratitude for his revival, but the marks on his body spoke otherwise. Some sort of restriction magic place caused each step as labor-intensive. he shoved away the man in front, nearly reaching the exit as a night sky greeted his awakening. Thousands of stars and the celestial moon blanketed the sky. He took a deep breath, the cold mountain air filled his lungs before being released as an icy fog. As he was going to take another step to explore his new surroundings. *Shing* His eyes narrowed. Veins bulged from his bare-bone arms from their actions. His eyes were blazing with red, the illuminating moon brought out the glowing of his eyes. Eyes that spoke no more chances as the cold enveloped. "I gave you a chance to atone for weakening my humble body. But you did not take it." The air was trembling as it shook vigorously around his body. The robed man spoke another word and the two charged. Morris began emanating an aura as it chanted some words, a small fissure allowed a magic circle to form. A small black snake flew from the circle and towards him. An Elementary Grade Shadow Magic, Shadow Chain. "Do you really think weakening my physical body would do you any good. I feel quite disgusted that you think that meager chain will stop me." The etching circle began being drawn, the mana in the air accumulating in each part of its formation. "Face your own error for underestimating my abilities." A strange language flew out of his mouth. The words brought the world screaming all around, for each word spoken, a storm brew around the circle, the air began warping in a strange matter and turning grey. A world of no color soon invaded the space. The sense of fear dreaded each mind of the two. The other defiant and deluged from his arrogant behavior. That was when they knew that they went down the wrong road. One single word was enough to shroud all in its path. A magic was forgotten by the annals of time now present in the modern-day. The name of the spell was simple but tremendously powerful. "Drown, Shadow Plain." All was engulfed into oblivion. - He woke out of the cave seemingly unscathed. A new set of armor and a robe as an outcome of the encounter. He checked around for knowledge dating back to his own, with the only solid base that the world was of his own. A small book pile was the result of his work. Each word unknown to the man, but one book caught his eyes. One book found separate from the rest and placed right in front where the robed man was on his knees. The dialect that he loved and spoke. It simply translated to ''Book''. Picking up the book, he found one word that stood out from the rest. But come as a disappointment to himself as a word was only repeated multiple times. The word ''King''. He sighed for the waste of time he had done as the ticking of time ensued. The magic he used was the weakest he knew, not even worthy of being called a spell of destruction. Heretic Magic, Shadow Plain. Just enough to slay the Elementary Grade Magician and the two grunts that were so weak they had no technique. But just that magic caused great exhaustion for his body, unable to bear the weak magic. A line formed just around the side of his mouth, a streak of red and pain came along. Instead of feeling hurt, the exhilaration was all he could muster. The feeling of being alive. ''I need to find a place to rest. And research some of the memories in this kid.'' Just some steps towards the outer region of the cave was a breath, fighting for survival even to its lasting moment. The exhaustion began causing his body to feel heavy and he needed someone to care for his slumber. Any animal would be enough to kill him in half a breath. The child in front of him would be just enough, and more a form of respect of being alive at the moment. A rebellious nature one could feel of youthfulness. He chanted another spell. A green circle formed beneath the girl as he spoke the name of the spell in a drained slur. The grey aura filled the circle and began to restore all her wounds. Her human physique morphing slightly from the change. "Heretic Magic, Seal of Servitude. You shall be called...Wendall." A second passed and he could feel the world fade into black. "And you shall call me, Kallistar." The first word that came out of his head through its lasting moment. As the world turned black in its entirety, his eyes widened metaphorically in surprise. ''To think this child would be...'' He could not finish his words in time. Life ''My head...'' Strange nightmares invaded his head, all with eventful moments that Kallistar had never faced nor did he had known about. He felt as if a strange jump happened in his memory when he was going to fetch some supplies, his grandma Anne even told him to tread carefully down the road. At this point in time, just after that messaged played through his head thousands of time, he was placed on a weathered down cot with an unfamiliar ceiling. A throbbing pain felt as if his mind was going to split apart, a snarl coming out of his mouth in the process everytime he ponders about his whereabouts. "Woah now, steady" The man who spoke came in his blurred visions, unable to make any part of his appearance except his brown hair and a stern physique. The man''s hand soon blankets over his eyes as a soothing light flows throughout his body. Each pore felt the agonizing pain soon become numb and all was serene. Kallistar''s vision faded once more in a deep sleep. -_-_- He awoke once more and felt the pain suddenly wisp away into the night, daylight causing his eyes to wince from the sudden rays. "Awake now are ya?" The same man he remembered from the disruptive pain came once more. His body becoming more recognizable. his arms were bulky and his body showed that his body was once well-maintained, most likely a soldier or mercenary. His facial hair was unkempt and was brushed to the side in a lackadaisical movement of one''s hand. But what provided much more solid evidence of his past of war and adventuring, was that one of his eyes were blurred to allow the white in his eyes to integrate to his pupil, and a missing sleeve for his right hand and down. He had most likely suffered these scars and forced to live his life normally. "Where...am I?" "Not far from Anne''s home I reckon. Picked you up by the road alone, unconscious." The pain lingered on, but with Kallistar''s endurance, it was bearable. Everything was becoming clear to him about his whereabouts at the moment. This was the infirmary ran by the man, whose name was mostly known as Jahan. His past was mostly kept behind his lips, but scars from combat proved his past to either be bloody or chaotic. But what came to a surprise was his appearance in Steadholme, the town that they reside in. The land bordered the western coastline of the Stormlands. Far from the influences of both the Dunmar Empire and the Order of Patas; a land that bordered the ruthless land of demons and beasts, a storm would always brew in these parts of the region. Small kingdoms banded together to fight the threats that followed after, with tension regarded to whom they should be merged with. The Empire''s ruthless and lawless reign, and the firm radical austerity of the church. Both have their negatives; causing different perspective of the incident. "Well, you''re all patched up, leave anytime you want, your mom already paid for everything."Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The stress on his mind eased away but slowly came back in a different form. Knowing that his mother''s wealth was meager, paying for medical treatment was out of his mind. Kallistar felt as if he was just merely a burden to herself. "Thank you, mister." The windowsill near his bedside showed the time of day, the tint of above sheened that it was gonna get dark real soon. With the sudden realization just hitting him straight in his head, he prepared swiftly. Placing his leather shoes on, he ran towards the door before he jerked away. He turned away from the door and took a bow to pay respects to the man that nursed him back to health, before turning away and taking off. The cold crisp air struck his face, the autumn sun soon set down before it touched the floor of the horizon. The houses in the vicinity were sheening with warming fires as families get together for supper. Smells of meat being grilled, bread being served and vegetables from their crops yielded his nostrils with a pang of hunger. It was splendid that his mother''s cottage was just nearby. A sense of returning home after a long day''s work to return with a hearty meal. He arrived just near the hill was where their cozy little cabin settled upon. The exhaustion of running was strange as the door opened wide, revealing an elderly woman. Her brown eyes take after her caring personality as pearls swept down her face. Thin scrawny arms seemed to carry all of Kallistar''s efforts in the world. The blouse she always wore was shabby but expressed dignity in more ways than one. She had no way to express her happiness in seeing his face, this was Anne. Anne was always caring for him, when she was bedridden, all she could worry about was his wellbeing. "Kall!" Kallistar felt blessed to have her as his mother, but at the same time felt that he was undeserving of her love. Anne opened up her arms in a loving embrace as both intersected in the path in front of their home. The encounter was short, as both went inside to enjoy supper at night. The same rustic-maple table was situated in the center, an iron furnace with a coal bed laid above was the kitchen. His bed was just nearby with wooden beams supporting his linen bed. Straps of fur laid to rest on the pillows and blanket. A room on the furthest left was closed with various bookcases sprawled throughout. Anne was never really a type to collect books, but after she received Kallistar; she began buying books anywhere she could get her hands on; ranging from epics and culinary books. A hearty stew welcomed his arrival. Ingredients such from the bacon, carrots, and potato in a thick broth made it all the more nourishing. Thyme and basil made the aroma just to die for. "Are you okay?" It took him a moment to swallow his first bite and felt nostalgic of the wonderful tastes flooding his taste buds. "Yes, mother!" Anne had doubts and decided to have a closer look, her rough hands touching his to find any marks left behind. She breathed a sigh of relief when her endeavor was not successful. "Once you''re done, can you wash the bowls and hang the cloth outside?" He nodded as this was his chores most of his time. He remembered his childhood to be quite small, most people called him Kall because of his mother. Kallistar wasn''t very interactive with the other children his age, always doing chores for his mother and reading from her studies. The door opened to the left-most room in the wooden house, with a waft of flowery aroma consisted of vanilla and lavender struck his front. She was a soapmaker for the middle class, receiving commissions for her soaps for living essentials. The door closed with a small creak and slam as the locking mechanism was latched on. It was best for the door to be closed as the smell could get nauseating from the whole process. Kallistar did all he could do best and went off to bed with a satisfied mind. Steadholme was usually like this, residing in the Salhurak kingdom in the Stormland council. But life was usually unforgiving and in the nick of time, help would come in strange ways. Demons were usually depicted as large beings that prey on human and the scorn of the church''s purpose. In one of the attacks done by demonic beasts, their strongholds were all falling one-by-one. Their time living here was evidence of the attack and the proof that they remained lively as they did now. A clan of demons was the ones who helped against the beasts; providing foods and essentials to improve ways of living. Demons weren''t all that bad as depicted and the Council thought very highly from their salvation. They coexisted with each other and even gave birth to halflings. This was one of the factors that change their views away from the empire and order, and how the decision to join either side became the largest issue. The expansion of both created an even greater prioritized decision to gain merits from either. But that was all to change. Near the walls that protect the outskirts of the town, Steadholme was the clopping of horses. Footsteps were heard across the night unbeknownst to the populace as they marched their way onwards, a banner of a scale in perfect balance overhead the growing mass.