《The Undying Prince》 A Broken Circle 1.01 – Prologue Important Points 1. Vote for us on topwebfiction.com ¡ª It only takes 5 seconds and you can vote once a week. 2. Rate/review us on webfictionguide. ¡ª 3. Always a couple chapters ahead on my blog ¡ª https://theundyingblog.wordpress.com/table-of-contents/ 4. Please, rate our story if you haven''t already. Without further ado, A Broken Circle 1.01 ¨C Prologue RIP! CLAW! TEAR! DEVOUR! ¡ª THE CELESTIAL DRAGON, TO ERIK The Celestial Dragon fell through the cloudless sky. Imprisoned in a sphere of rock and ice, it streaked across the snow-edged peaks of the mountains, above the blackened battlements of an ancient fortress. The sky shuddered in its wake as ever more chunks of the dragon¡¯s prison broke apart and burned. Throughout its endless journey, it had dreamed of liquid flames, flames hotter than magma, running down its scales, pooling at its claws, and it hungered¡ªalways it hungered. For the taste of blood, for the feel of its teeth tearing through flesh.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The entity descended, incinerating the crowns of stalwart pine trees. Then it struck the earth, liquifying dirt and wood and living things into molten slag and ash, splintering countless branches, skidding a crater into the ground. The Celestial Dragon roared; pain flared like the sun, bloomed within its thick metallic chest plating. As the wind took away the impact clouds, rays of sunlight glittered off of its gold and ebony scales webbed with tiny cracks. Its skull throbbed, pressed into the dirt, and its limp wings cried out in pain. A massive bone jutted from the wound in its chest, gushing scarlet liquid that caught fire the instant it touched the air. A lightless world opened before it, luring away its consciousness, enticing it, pulling it deeper into slumber. A gush of water ran along its claws from an underground stream, and it sagged further into the ground. It felt itself slip deeper. . . . Its nose twitched; the wind brought a wealth of information. A tree burning. Ash swirling. The sweet aroma of fat, delicious creatures. Fresh blood drying. The Celestial Dragon¡¯s eyes snapped open. A cavernous hole opened up inside it, a need so powerful it could shatter mountains, lay waste to continents. Its blood boiled! Its stomach ached! Wind carried to it the raised voices of the tiny flesh-things moving in its direction. Memories began to bubble to the surface, memories of it and its kin growing fat as they devoured all those things that soared and slipped and stalked through the lush interior of a now dead world. Soon. Soon it would begin to quiet the torment at its core. It would feast on blood and flesh. It would rip, and it would claw! A Broken Circle 1.02 – Asbj?rn Important Points 1. Vote for us on topwebfiction.com ¡ª It only takes 5 seconds and you can vote once a week. 2. Rate/review us on webfictionguide. ¡ª 3. Always a couple chapters ahead on my blog - https://theundyingblog.wordpress.com/table-of-contents/ 4. Please, rate our story if you haven''t already. Without further ado, A Broken Circle 1.02 ¨C Asbj?rn A Cultivator is composed of three aspects: the first he displays to the world, the second he shows to his family, and the last he reveals only to himself. ¡ª ASBJ?RN MAKI, PERSONAL JOURNAL The golden dragon-hilted longsword in Asbj?rn¡¯s dark hand felt like a block of ice. Despite the sun blazing overhead, the large inner courtyard was suddenly cold enough to make him shiver, and only years of practice kept his teeth from chattering. The chill had nothing to do with the wind blowing down from the snow-covered peaks of the Rin Mountains and everything to do with the prana being siphoned from the air. His white robe offered no protection, and neither did Hj?rtur¡¯s black stone ramparts and walls; the former stronghold of the Sorcerer-Kings was both ponderous and ancient, but it could not protect from what was already inside. Pudgy Baron Sophus stood across from Asbj?rn, the source of the sudden chill. Clothed in a ragged looking red robe, frayed at the edges, he clutched a longsword in his sweaty hands while sweat dripped down his chubby chin. And like most people on the island of Daei, he was shades lighter than Asbj?rn. ¡°What is your range?¡± Asbj?rn asked. Sophus licked his lips nervously. ¡°Two hundred meters, or there about.¡± He kept his gaze firmly directed at the dirt at his feet, glancing up every couple seconds. Much too timid for one so large, Asbjorn thought. Asbj?rn nodded. A range of two hundred meters was nothing to scoff at, but it could not compare to his own range of five hundred meters. Then again few Fallnir Menn¡ªor Cultivators as they were known this side of the Howling Sea¡ªhad a range so great. The larger one¡¯s range, the more prana they could ensnare to reach into the Abyss and power their Esoteric Techniques. ¡°And your level of cultivation?¡± ¡°First St?ein, Second Stratum,¡± Sophus said, and his eyes twinkled with a hint of pride. ¡°I. . .¡± Less confident. ¡°I hope to earn the right to become a Viscount during this year¡¯s Grand Assessment . . . or at the very least win a title to some land. Prince Erik already gave me permission to travel with his entourage; so you will be seeing more of me I¡¯m afraid.¡± For the ten thousandth time, Asbj?rn marveled at the strangeness of Vindurian society. Everything was upside down compared to what he had grown up with on the Mainland. Here, Cultivators were considered more than just walking volcanoes. Here, they ruled as kings and nobles! ¡°Proceed.¡± Asbj?rn lifted his longsword, slid his legs apart, turning sideways. A charcoal-colored dragon-hilted shortsword also hung from the sash tied around his waist. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to ensnare¡ª¡± ¡°There is no need. Proceed.¡± Sophus hesitated, and then shouted, ¡°The Red Rose Blooms.¡± A warning. The name of an Esoteric Sword Technique. Asbj?rn appreciated the sentiment behind the act; this was a friendly exchange of pointers after all. Sophus whirled his longsword, jabbing it in Asbj?rn¡¯s direction. A rosebud blossomed into reality mere inches from tip of the blade; it shot forward, roaring, glowing crimson with opening petals made of fire. The size of a fist, it warped the air with its searing heat. Almost looking bored, Asbj?rn thrust his blade into the heart of the Esoteric Creation and turned it. The flames splintered into shards of ivory light and shattered into smaller and smaller pieces until they vanished. One with his sword, Asbj?rn peered at Sophus over the edge of his blade. His gray eyes did not waver, his aged hands held fast. In his calm breaths he took note of the greed that flashed through the Baron¡¯s blue eyes as he gazed at the dragon-hilted longsword. Like the shortsword at Asbj?rn¡¯s side, it was made of T¨¢r Gues, a precious metal valued for both its ability to amplify a Cultivator¡¯s power and its ability to render their Esoteric Creations null. Few but princes and kings could afford to own such a blade. Much less two. ¡°Again!¡± Asbj?rn smiled, but the hold on his rage began to weaken. His rage was always there, just below the surface, seething, bubbling, ready to explode forth at a moment¡¯s notice. He remembered a time when it was not this way. A time before his soul was stained with blood. ¡°My Lords,¡± a woman said. Asbj?rn and Sophus lowered their weapons and turned at the same time. A liveried woman regarded them, pale hands folded in front of her dress. She curtsied. ¡°Pardon me. Baron Sophus, the Viscount, requires your attention.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± Sophus began. Asbj?rn forestalled him with a raised hand. ¡°It¡¯s all right, go. We will pick up where we left off, tomorrow.¡± For an instant, Sophus eyes grew unfocused, and his head tilted back; Asbj?rn¡¯s hand tightened on his longsword. ¡°Sophus . . . are you well?¡± Sophus blinked, eyes growing clear again. He nodded and put away his blade, falling in behind the servant. Asbj?rn sensed the woman¡¯s terror, it was in the way she almost ran as she led the Baron away. Asbj?rn did not blame her, Sophus¡¯s behavior worried him just as much; use of the Abyss was hard on the minds of Cultivators. ¡°Now that was anticlimactic,¡± came another voice. Asbj?rn fought back a groan, and turned. Ypse, a short, stocky, middle-aged man with a patchy red and black beard and yellow eyes, sat at a small wooden table some meters away. He wore a bright green coat that partly hid the ornate slave collar around his neck. Smiling, he waved Asbj?rn over. ¡°Join me for a drink, would you?¡± Asbj?rn approached Ypse reluctantly. Two towering soldiers loomed behind the Sorcerer¡¯s chair. They were more prison wardens than guards, dressed in conical helmets and golden surcoats over plate-and-mail armor, with longswords at their sides. The black flame on their surcoats marked them as Punishers, an order of soldiers tasked with safeguarding the Sorcerers that Vindur kept as slaves. Ypse poured himself a bowl of wine. ¡°I was surprised to see you out here. I thought you would be out hunting with the Prince.¡± He gestured to the unoccupied chair. ¡°Sit.¡± He leaned back against his cushioned chair and seemed to stare at Asbj?rn with an air of indulgence. Asbj?rn narrowed his white, bushy brows and took a seat. He disliked the way Ypse always appeared to be smiling at him as if the Sorcerer knew something he did not. He fought against his indoctrination for Prince Erik¡¯s sake, yet in his heart of hearts, he knew he would always despise Sorcerers and their ilk. They had almost destroyed the world! The Third Apocalypse and the monstrosities that now plagued every nation could all be laid at their feet. They should all be killed. Every last one of them! ¡°There comes a point when a boy must step into the wilderness on his own,¡± Asbj?rn said after a moment. ¡°It¡¯s how he becomes a man.¡± Ypse snorted, yellow eyes alight with mischief. ¡°You sound like a father talking about his much-beloved son.¡± He tugged at the end of his beard. ¡°You¡¯re different today. You seem. . . .¡± Asbj?rn allowed his voice trail off. ¡°Cheerful?¡± Ypse asked. ¡°Is that the word you were searching for?¡± ¡°Sure, let¡¯s go with that.¡± Ypse laughed, and took a sip of his wine. ¡°I am in a good mood. I suppose that I¡¯m even celebrating, but don¡¯t ask what because it¡¯s a secret. Can I ask you a question?¡± Asbj?rn gave a short nod. ¡°Are we friends?¡± Casually, Asbj?rn poured himself a bowl of wine and remembered his promise to Erik. ¡°Yes.¡± No. ¡°I think we are.¡± I would sooner be friends with a dead goat. Ypse smiled. ¡°Good. Good,¡± he said, bubbling over with a sense of mirth. ¡°I think this too is worthy of celebration. A thousand years after the Third Breaking of the World, a Cultivator and a Sorcerer are friends. The Eternal Father¡¯s ways are truly marvelous, are they not?¡± He raised his bowl to Asbj?rn in tribute and drank. The muscles in Asbj?rn¡¯s jaw twitched. Breathe, he told himself. He¡¯s not insulting you on purpose. Are you sure? Slowly, he returned Ypse¡¯s gesture by taking a single sip of his wine before setting his bowl back onto the table. A roar shook the firmament and earth. Startled, Asbj?rn looked up and saw a comet sailing overhead, trailing luminous gas. He leaped to his feet. His pulse quickened. He watched the fiery ball descend, deaf to the shouts and screams ringing out all over the citadel. ¡°It¡¯s headed for the forest, I think,¡± Ypse muttered, inches from Asbj?rn¡¯s right ear. Asbj?rn took two quick steps away, uncomfortable with Ypse in such close proximity. Hesitant, he exhaled, becoming one with the air that poured out of his nostrils. The flesh forgotten, he became the earth beneath his sandaled feet, he became the sound of the leaves rustling on the branches of the oak tree. He was a net cast out in every direction, entrapping the globes of prana that lay scattered through the world like a downpour of fiery droplets.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Pain blazed in Asbj?rn, and inwardly he cried out. Fire seared his mind as he reached the limits of his range. Breathless, he struggled to draw his consciousness back inward, reeling in all the prana he had ensnared. Light filled him. Mingled waves of spirit and prana rushed into his inner void where they formed his Ethereal Body. It was almost an exact copy of his physical frame, sitting cross-legged, flesh leaking white light, surrounded by a transparent shield. He drifted through his inner void, calling to the Abyss, a realm of chaos and discord, where the Eternal Father had imprisoned the Dark One and the Death Gods during the First Age. He sought the Four Aspects¡ªEarth, Water, Fire, and Air¡ªto power his Esoteric Sword Techniques. It was like a whisper at the edge of his hearing, a half-remembered tune. Suddenly, the song of the Abyss came to him, the dreaded voices of a million wailing souls. He saw it in his inner void, floating below him, a massive roiling vortex of glittering gold and green, with blue and red echoes. The shield around him rippled like the surface of a clear pond. Well, a voice in his head said, it¡¯s happening again, isn¡¯t it? No, he told it. He will be fine. I trained him myself. Laughter. Ypse stumbled back, shivering, teeth chattering. ¡°What are you¡ª¡± Asbj?rn bent his knees, thrust his longsword into the air, and furious jets of air exploded beneath his sandals, launching him upwards; the eruption blew Ypse off his feet and flung the table into the two armored soldiers, smashing wood against metal. Panic shouts turned into groans of pain. Uncertainty and anxiety worked their way around Asbj?rn¡¯s heart, pulsing and tightening with every palpitation the higher he climbed. Not fear at what he had done, but fear at where the comet might land. Fear for Erik. Asbj?rn¡¯s Esoteric Sword Technique, Grasshopper of the Stars, took him skyward. Eventually his velocity stalled, and he formed an invisible platform under his feet with a simple working of Air. Sixty meters above the ground, white robe flapping in the icy breeze, the whole of Hj?rtur laid out below him, the ancient architecture that usually dwarfed him looked smaller from the air. Huge square banners etched with the symbol of the Royal House of Ito, a red and a blue phoenix joined in a circle, whipped in the wind atop of the towers and battlements below, but he did not glance at them. Within seconds the comet pierced the forest at the foot of the mountain range, spewing chunks of charred wood, flame and soot into the air. The sky shook with a light thud; the fury was too distant to be truly felt. Asbj?rn¡¯s breath caught in his throat. Eternal Father, please protect him! ¡ö¡ö¡ö Erik Ito, the third son of King Vilhelm, stumbled, sandaled feet trudging across what sounded like shattered glass. At first, he could not see. When he finally could, he stared in shock at the ebony and gold scaled dragon, with eyes of solid black encircled by a band of yellow. The size of a small mountain, the monster swatted at the two black-coated men who danced around its feet, slashing it with swords. White whiskers hung from the dragon¡¯s elongated jaw like long withered branches, and bright red blood spilled from the glittering bone protruding from its chest. Each scarlet drop caught fire the moment it met the air. For the life of him, Erik could not recall how he had come to be here. In this place. Then it all came rushing back: the hunting party he led into the Northern Reaches, their battle with the Jade Spider, and his decision to investigate the crash site of the comet. If he had known all of what this morning would entail, he would have stayed in bed. Perhaps spend the day trying to mend the divide with Hanna, but it was too late for that now. Perhaps it would always be too late. Time creeped forward, and he glanced down at the longsword in his hand. His flesh looked inflamed and blistered, and hundreds of cuts riddled his once elegant green robe from the shards of glass embedded in his skin. He knew of every little slash as hairline fractures on the outside of his inner void; they burned, but the pain was a distant thing compared to the prominence of the massive vortex churning beneath his Ethereal Body. Wounds like that could kill, or leave him a husk of what he had once been, but it did not matter. Not now. Erik hung balanced on a knife¡¯s edge, between the boundary of the known and the unknown, two paths opening before him. Run or fight. If he continued to battle, defeat was almost a certainty; he had already lost half of his warriors in a handful of seconds. Every instinct urged him to flee! I¡¯m sorry, he thought, not understanding who the apology was directed to. He would not run. He would not! Asbj?rn always said he was too headstrong and impulsive, yet that was not it. He understood the consequence of his actions, not in every case, but certainly in this one. Back in the Vetur, the capital city of Vindur, he had spent years cultivating the image of a playboy to help protect himself from his brothers¡¯ plots. His exile to the citadel of Hj?rtur had been a chance for him to re-brand himself, a necessary step in his plan to ascend to the throne. But it was more than that, he was afraid . . . afraid that if he ran now that none of it would have been an act. That everything they whispered about him would be true. He would rather die than have that be the case. A wave of renewed energy surged into Erik¡¯s tired limbs, and he firmed his wobbly legs, raising his longsword into the air. Muted sounds came roaring back along with the stench of the white smoke swirling around the crater. He ducked his head, narrowly avoiding the severed head flying towards him. A shower of crimson droplets splattered the back of his neck and hair. His longsword flickered and twirled as he performed Leaves on the Breeze. A single flow of the Aspect of Air rose from the Abyss, rendered obedient by his T¨¢r Gues blade; the liquid-prana splashing around his Ethereal Body burned to power his Esoteric Sword Technique, further draining his reservoir. Creation fought back against what was being done, but he persevered. A dozen invisible, razor sharp leaves made of Air wavered in and out of existence, then they solidified, whistling towards the dragon. They slammed harmlessly against the creature¡¯s scales as it ripped apart the last black-coat man. ¡°Fuck,¡± Erik lamented, blood leaking from the nicks on his face. The monster turned towards him, black and gold eyes radiating menace. His legs trembled, and fear crawled down his throat and into his chest. I will not die cowering like a child. I will not! Erik dropped to his knees and slammed his longsword into the earth, draining every last drop of prana he had within, attacking with The Earth Entwines. Illusionary vines of Earth erupted from the dirt, wrapping themselves around the dragon, flickering like candlelight. He groaned, jaws clenched, fighting against what seemed like a raging river; if his concentration slipped for even a second, he would be swept away, burned to ash. By force of will, he made his Esoteric Creation stabilize. The dragon roared, encased in giant vines of Earth that resisted its efforts to free itself. Erik stood, laughing in disbelief. It worked! It was the largest Esoteric Technique he had ever performed. A gust of wind caressed his ruined robe, and his knees trembled. He gulped and steadied himself. The vines snapped like pieces of twine, and the monster exploded forward, maw gaping. ¡°STOP!¡± Inexplicably, the abomination heeded his call. It halted meters from him, towering above him surrounded by choking plumes of ash and smoke. Erik coughed. ¡°I can¡¯t die here! Do you understand? I sacrificed too much to get this far!¡± He gripped his thigh with an aching hand, desperate for a way out of this nightmare. ¡°I will be the next king of Vindur. Me, not either of my brothers. Me! For my mother. For my sister.¡± The massive creature exhaled, flailing Erik¡¯s robe with its heated breath. It might have been a judge, listening to the testimony of the accused for all the emotion its hideous visage showed. ¡°But before I can become king, I have to return Vetur to attend the Grand Assessment. It¡¯s the only way to become Prince of the Blood. My party leaves in three weeks.¡± Even with the terror surging through him, the wounds on his flesh stung and throbbed, cutting across his thoughts. ¡°So you . . . so you see, I can¡¯t die here. My plan won¡¯t allow it.¡± Erik blinked, and the monster was upon him. Teeth tore through his spine and punctured into his chest. His skull ruptured like an over-sized grape. ¡ö¡ö¡ö Asbj?rn led a group of ten grim-faced warriors down the mountain trail into the forest. Bald except for topknots bound with red and blue silk, they walked with the casual swagger of men well acquainted with violence. And wore black coats and breeches, with longswords at their waists. Lightbenders, they were called in Daei. Men who fought with the strength of ten. Long-lived warriors bound by a strict code of honor. Across the Howling Sea, they were known as the Twice Born and ruled as nobles, but here they served willingly. Asbj?rn moved through the gloom of the forest interior, uneasy with the worry that gnawed at his stomach. Erik was his student¡ªno! Erik was much more than that, he was his son. Perhaps not of his blood, but of his spirit. Asbj?rn had helped raise the boy into a young man. If something happened to him . . . he did not know what he would do. He looked away from the Lightbenders tracking the hunting party on the ground up at the young boy on the back of a giant White Crane searching from the sky, barely seen through the gaps in between branches. Normally, he would never accept help from one of Ypse¡¯s abominations, but the Air Scouts had been one of Erik¡¯s ideas. And the White Crane enabled them to cover more ground, even as distasteful as it was. Air thick with the smell of burnt pine and flesh choked them the moment the impact site came into view. All around the upturned earth, trees had been vaporized and scorched into white stumps. He had hoped that the tracks they were following would lead somewhere else. Anywhere but here, he thought. His heart rose into his throat. His hand tightened on the hilt of his longsword. Near the edge of the crater, he discovered the body of a black-coated man skewered on a jagged tree stump, next to a patch of dirt melted into glass. His eyes scoured his surroundings. Blood, human intestines, and severed limbs littered the ground. He¡¯s dead, the voice said with glee. NO, he yelled at it. The Abyss within churned chaotically. Laughter. Asbj?rn staggered forward, stumbling from dismembered body part to dismembered body part. No! NO! Under the smell of burnt wood and smoke, the wind carried with it the foul smell of sweet rotting meat, excrement, and memories. The squad of Lightbenders spread out around him, weapons drawn and eyes alert for any sign of danger. Eternal Father, please . . . not again! Hot tears blurred Asbj?rn¡¯s vision. Hot nails hammered into his chest, he could not breathe without gasping. He could not breathe! Why must you take them all from me? All the ones I love? I¡¯ve already lost one son, I can¡¯t lose another. I can¡¯t! ¡°Cultivator!¡± a top-knotted soldier yelled, peering into the crater. Asbj?rn rushed over, heart racing, renewed hope surging. He skidded to a stop beside the warrior and looked down. Naked, Prince Erik Ito lay on his back, half out of the murky brown water trickling in from an underground stream. With sandy brown hair and youthful face sprinkled with hints of a mustache, he conveyed the frail sense of someone raised in a palace: the unblemished skin of a pampered prince. He looked nothing like a Cultivator should, having none of the warlike bearings of his father. Dirty water had soiled his woundless body. Asbj?rn jumped down, splashing even more muck onto Erik¡¯s skin. He pressed two fingers to the Prince¡¯s swollen throat. NO! He dropped to his knees. The Lightbenders stood like silent sentinels all around the rim of the crater, fixed in tragic reveries. More tears leaked from Asbj?rn''s eyes. Sorrow tore his heart. Sorrow like molten claws. Dead. Dead. Dead, sang the voice. ¡°No,¡± Asbj?rn whispered, giving way to rage, his second, wicked heart. He drew from the Abyss and exchanged the prana he held within his Ethereal Body for the use of its power. Earth, Fire, and Air mixed without the aid of an Esoteric Sword Technique. ¡°NO!¡± The very earth trembled and thrashed in a twin song to his hurt, sending the black-coated warriors tumbling into and around the crater. Lightning exploded in the clear sky above, turning the air into liquid fire, and Ypse¡¯s boy on the White Crane fled. ¡°Take me too!¡± He begged the heavens, thrusting his sword upwards. For an instant, his gray eyes glittered with motes of red, and his world quivered, convulsing; he was a child again, in agony. A jagged lance of blinding light struck down, connecting the tip of Asbj?rn¡¯s blade to the liquid fire in the sky. It lasted a moment, a blink of an eyelid and ended with Asbj?rn slamming into the wall of the crater. He struggled to get up, gasping, groaning as his vision and consciousness left him. The Hills are Shadows 6.01 – Prologue Important Points 1. Vote for us on topwebfiction.com ¡ª It only takes 5 seconds and you can vote once a week. 2. Rate/review us on webfictionguide. ¡ª 3. Always a couple chapters ahead on my blog ¡ª https://theundyingblog.wordpress.com/table-of-contents/ 4. Please, rate our story if you haven''t already. Without further ado, The Hills are Shadows 6.01 ¨C Prologue Walls cannot protect you from the darkness; only light can do that. Love cannot free you from chains; only strength can do that. ¡ª YPSE, TO LEON Mrethren ?rk¡¯s dark gaze wandered about the ancient temple, but her thoughts lay elsewhere. Shattered stone walls, once shining examples of the grandeur of the Third Age, faded into a forest of pine and oak, thick with weeds and grass. Some of the last remnant of her Kvik¡ªtall, gray-skinned warriors¡ªmoved through the dilapidated structure, clearing it of their current inhabitants. Even the corpse of the white-furred monster, with the body of a lion and head of a dragon, twitching at the other end of ?rk¡¯s spear could not hold her attention. The Chimera had almost caught her by surprise, but now both its head and chest leaked bright streams of life-fluid. Scarlet, deep-set eyes glowed with feverish madness¡ªit and its kin were a race of creatures completely overcome by the taint of the Abyss¡ªmaking it seem poised on the verge of more violence even though dead. Twilight swelled on the horizon, stretching shadows into monstrous proportions, glimpsed through the rents in the roof and walls. The darkened interior of nearby chambers rang with the sounds of battle, and the heat from the warm bodies pressed behind ?rk wafted against the eight dark, spider-like appendages sprouting from her back. For twenty years she had remained secreted underground and had never thought to lead a desperate party of survivors through the Northern Reaches. The lands above held little interest for Mrethren ?rk, or they had until now. Eventually, her eyes went back to the Chimera at her feet. She jerked her spear free and strode deeper into the edifice, moving across a stone floor strewn with hundreds of different animal bones. The lumbering gait of two Vatn Bj?rns mirrored her own, crushing skeletons beneath their clawed feet, searching the temple with their eyeless faces, tasting the air through their extendable circular mouths. Behind them came the Caretakers, gray-skinned D?kk like ?rk, but much shorter with bump-like antennae. Fifty-three in number, each carrying a large transparent egg on its back.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ?rk stopped at the center of a small pool of orange illumination cast through a hole in the roof. She glanced up, and the black shard embedded in her forehead glittered with refractive light before the large wings of an unknown white bird whirled past, circling above. Dropping her gaze, she reached out to the D?kk struggling to eradicate the den of Chimeras through the ghostly strings of dull gold that connected her mind to the rest of her Kvik. She was the focal point, the hub through which all strings networked. Kill them quicker, ?rk told them. Time was growing short. She wanted everyone safely secured within the temple before nightfall. The web of networked brains shuddered, and ?rk spun towards the entrance, a massive gap in the stone wall. A mind-twisting struck at her core, wrenching one of the ghostly strings from her control. She dropped to her knees panting, gasping. Impossible! Only a Great Mrethren could do such a thing or. . . . ¡°This . . . this had to be the work of one of the Great Masters,¡± ?rk muttered. The Great Masters. The title made her skin crawl with the horror of a sunless winter. The title the D?kk used to refer to the Sorcerer-Kings when the whole world still trembled at their power. It was more than a thousand years since the Great Masters¡¯ pride and the War of Madness had shattered the world for the third time and had brought an end to the Age of Men. A thousand years, but ?rk¡¯s Great Mrethren had spoken of it as if it was yesterday. She had told ?rk and her sisters of the Great Masters¡¯ perversions, of their lust, of their thirst to create ever-more-horrifying creatures. ?rk grunted as her skull rang in turmoil. One by one, the ghostly strings tore from her grasp, turning from a dull gold into a bright crimson when they connected with the unseen Great Master. Then she could see him, not with her eyes but with her mind. He shone like the risen sun, glowing a little more radiant with each new string. The milling mass of Caretakers parted, no longer under ?rk¡¯s control. A yellow-eyed youth with whitish hair ambled towards her. He looked no older than a boy of four, but it was hard to be certain. After the hair and the eyes, the next thing she noticed was the luminous jewel the child clasped in his hand, which flashed with a sinister red light. ¡°There¡¯s no need for fear,¡± the boy said. It felt as if her head was being struck with the sides of spears. Pain flared hot and all-consuming, driving deeper and deeper into ?rk¡¯s brain. She tried to fling herself at the Great Master, but her muscles refused to obey. In desperation, she commanded the Vatn Bj?rns to attack, but they too were no longer under her power. ¡°Hush now, my child,¡± the boy whispered, wiping the tears from her cheek. ¡°There are only two kinds of stories: tragedy and comedy. One ends with a feast and fucking and the other with death and tears. When you mix the two, you get real life.¡± He pressed his thumb to the dark shard in her forehead. ¡°NO!¡± ?rk shrieked. From the thumb poured cauldrons of burning acid into her brain, bubbling, foaming, always searing away the old with pins of sliver-thin agony. It was the torment of death, the transformation of rebirth. It was unending suffering¡ªit was love! ?rk blinked away tears and sucked air through the two slits below her eyes. Reality-twisting pleasure struck at her chest, dimming peripheral things to nothingness, illuminating the young face before her. ¡°Great Master,¡± she said in a voice that caught in her throat. ¡°Great Master!¡± The Hills are Shadows 6.02 – Erik Important Points 1. Vote for us on topwebfiction.com ¡ª It only takes 5 seconds and you can vote once a week. 2. Rate/review us on webfictionguide. ¡ª 3. Always a couple chapters ahead on my blog ¡ª https://theundyingblog.wordpress.com/table-of-contents/ 4. Please, rate our story if you haven''t already. Without further ado, The Hills are Shadows 6.02 ¨C Erik Weak and stupid men fear being outmatched by women, and therefore they choose the frailest and most ignorant of mates. You are none of these things. ¡ª ERIK ITO, TO HANNA Erik Ito, the third Prince of the kingdom of Vindur, fingered the long, blonde hair of his traumatized wife, Hanna Ito, who sobbed into his shoulder as he lay on his back. Despite her blood-drenched dress, hair, and flesh, many would have accounted her a beauty. Her blue eyes usually held an element of sadness, but today there was something more, a hint of rage and despair. He noticed when she lifted her head to look at him with a piercing stare. ¡°You came for me,¡± Hanna said, clutching at his robe; they matched, both of their blue garments were suffused with scarlet. She pressed her head back into the hollow of Erik¡¯s neck. The smile frozen on Erik¡¯s lips turned into a grimace as jolts of agony tore through his being. Every part of him hurt, from the tips of his toes to his hair follicles. To better weather the pain, he focused on the low buzzing that came from the earth and from the wings of the glowing insects that hovered around the vaulted cavern. If not for the domed roof, the massive chamber could have been in an arena, with all the gray-skinned corpses strewn artlessly across the blood-mattered floor, most charred beyond recognition, steaming in their crimson stew. Scarlet liquid still trickled from the mountain of pale flesh that had once been the Great Mrethren, and motes of dust glittered where they hung in their thousands. Heaps of rubble lay scattered from the rock wall that Erik had shattered in his fit of madness. The underground chamber had no windows, and only two entrances¡ªthree counting the hole in the wall¡ªone at either end of the room. ¡°I should have been here sooner,¡± Erik grunted, behind clenched teeth. ¡°If only I had. . . . Forgive me. I can¡¯t undo what was done to you. I wish. . . .¡± Hanna went still in Erik¡¯s grasp. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Her voice hovered somewhere between a growl and a whisper, punctuated by a throbbing vein of shame. ¡°I know what they¡ªwhat he did.¡± Hanna scampered back on her hindquarters, sliding across the gore-slicked floor. All red but two points of luminous blue, she glared at him, chest rising and falling with panicked gasps. ¡°How?¡± she asked. ¡°How do you. . . .¡± Tell her we raped her together! That was Saxi, laughing seemingly lost in a bout of rage, the newest voice in Erik¡¯s head. The D?kk¡¯s bitterness stemmed from the fact that Erik had almost single-handedly slaughtered his gray-skinned brethren to a man. His presence hissed at the back of Erik¡¯s skull like a vent in the earth, furious and bubbling. Shut up! Patrick¡ªanother voice in Erik¡¯s head¡ªsnarled at Saxi. Do you believe nothing else can be done to you because you¡¯re dead? If so, you¡¯re sadly mistaken. As if to prove Patrick¡¯s point, another presence rose from the depth of the Prince¡¯s brain, ancient and primeval. The Celestial Dragon. An abomination that had feasted on the carnage of a dozen worlds until it had in turn been devoured at the foot of the Rin Mountains by Erik. Saxi retreated, prideful even in his terror. Erik pushed himself to his knees, struggling against the black spots that tried to swarm his vision. He gritted his teeth, and the darkness receded. He felt the weight of Hanna¡¯s gaze, but for a moment he said nothing. What do I say? Anything but the truth, Patrick advised. I might not know a lot about the intricacies of the female mind, but I know this much. If you tell your wife the creature that raped her is now part of you, it won¡¯t end well. Lie? Erik did not know if he could do that. Secrets had the power to kill. Asbj?rn had died the last time he had decided to withhold information from someone he loved. He would not risk that again, not now. Never again. Why did you stop, came Asbj?rn¡¯s deranged voice. We were almost free, son. Free from these chains! Free from this world! ¡°I saw it all,¡± Erik said after a moment. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± ¡°How? I don¡¯t understand.¡± Hanna¡¯s eyes looked thoughtfully inward; an unnoticed tear slipped down her blood-stained cheek as her hand grasped at the holes in her dress. ¡°You weren¡¯t there, how could you know? And stop saying that! ¡®You¡¯re sorry. You¡¯re sorry.¡¯ What do you have to be sorry about? I won¡¯t have you thinking I¡¯m weak. I¡¯m not!¡± The trickle of tears turned into a flood. Erik reached out to console Hanna, but the fierceness of her gaze made him drop his hand. He turned from her, studying the two dragon-hilts sticking out of the ground, one ebony, the other gold. Asbj?rn¡¯s former T¨¢r Gues weapons, now his swords. He lurched to his feet, tilting to one side until Hanna appeared beside him to steady him with a hand. ¡°Thank you,¡± Erik said. Together they limped over to the blades; every step was agony filled, but Erik tried to hide it. Hanna¡¯s long fingers rubbed his back, though she did not look at him. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re weak. No one would mistake you for one of those fragile and delicate flowers. There is more than one way to be strong. Inside of you lies a gentle wellspring of fortitude and perseverance; I see it every time I look at you.¡± ¡°Some things never change,¡± Hanna said, her ¨®gilter accent strong. ¡°You always told the most beautiful lies.¡± Erik tore his arm away from Hanna and dropped to his knees. He reached out and caressed the protruding dragon-hilts. In his Abyss fueled madness, he had used the T¨¢r Gues blades to amplify his power as he tried to destroy the world. And if not for Hanna, he would have succeeded. His hands spasmed with sudden terror. I almost ended it all! Hanna placed her palm on Erik¡¯s back, and he realized he was weeping. His body shook as he gasped for breath. Inky, black sadness swelled, trying to drown him, trying to strangle him with hair-thin threads of despair. ¡°That was unkind,¡± Hanna whispered. ¡°I¡¯m unkind. Forgive me.¡± ¡°I watched Saxi rape you! I saw it all through his eyes, felt it, too. It was as if I was the one. . . .¡± The words came out of Erik all in a rush, syllables jumbling together near the end. He calmed himself with a breath, sensing the trembling of Hanna¡¯s hand through his back. ¡°It¡¯s one of my new abilities.¡± Slower. ¡°When I devour someone I steal their memories. You must understand, I was desperate to find you. I ate Saxi because of you.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°You what?¡± ¡°I ate him, Hanna!¡± Erik yanked the swords out the ground by their hilts, leaping upright. The chamber seemed to quake around him, but he kept his feet. He could not bring himself to turn around, too fearful of what he might discover. ¡°Now he¡¯s a part of me. Another voice in my head.¡± ¡°Erik!¡± Hanna shrieked. Erik spun around, his vision blurring as fear climbed down into his throat. A terror-filled moment later the world firmed, and he followed Hanna¡¯s finger. A few meters away, Mrethren ?rk rose from a pool of scarlet gore, black hair slicked back, her eight spider-like appendages twitching in the surrounding air. She snarled, revealing fused teeth. ¡°Get behind me!¡± Erik yelled, pushing himself ahead of Hanna. She complied, if reluctantly. ¡°You¡¯ll pay,¡± ?rk said. ¡°One day you¡¯ll all pay for what you¡¯ve done here. This I swear!¡± Erik took another step forward, fighting against the rising bile in his stomach. He was in no shape for combat, he could barely find the strength to keep his swords elevated. Yet he kept his concern hidden behind a mask of blankness, this was not the time to show weakness. ?rk hissed at them and bolted in the opposite direction, skidding and slipping on the wet floor. The instant she disappeared through the doorway, Erik collapsed to one knee, huffing and puffing. Hanna was by his side a second after, helping him back up. ¡°Are you all right?¡± She asked. Erik shook his head. ¡°We need to get out of here.¡± ¡°Which way is out?¡± One corner of Hanna¡¯s mouth quirked in what might have been a snarl or a grimace. ¡°I was dragged through so many tunnels, I have no idea where we would even begin.¡± ¡°Leave it to me.¡± Erik handed Hanna his shortsword and limped towards the hole in the wall, dragging her along. After a few seconds, he was forced to lean on her for support, carefully navigating around charred corpses and past rubble. They stepped out of the large chamber and into a tunnel lit with glowing gems embedded in the ceiling. Hanna stiffened, her brow wrinkling with stubbornness as she glanced over her shoulder. ¡°Are you sure,¡± she pressed. Erik plodded onward, overcoming Hanna¡¯s resistance. ¡°We¡¯re in a labyrinth of twisting pathways and rooms, built to confuse any intruder. But I know the way out. It¡¯s one piece of information that came over after I devoured Saxi.¡± Silence fell at the mention of Saxi. The creature was a monster¡ªhe had been trying to stop Erik from reaching Hanna when he met his end¡ªyet that was not what stilled her tongue. Erik imagined having your rapist trapped within your husband must be the deepest anathema for any woman; protecting wives from such criminals was the primary duty of every spouse. But now they stumbled forward, not meeting each other¡¯s eyes. Through endless tunnels they wondered, always climbing upwards through long, curling corridors, stopping when the earth¡¯s slight tremors quickened, in short, violent bursts. Gray Skins lay piled around every corner, ugly faces twisted in death, in their thousands. Some half-flayed into ash, others half-sank into the floor, but most they encountered were thin and wasted, bodies stabbed and slashed. Blood flowed in streams, splashing against their feet. ¡°You did this? All of this by yourself?¡± Hanna questioned. Erik diverted his eyes from the cadaver-strewn ground, the sight of which awaken opened within him a cavernous hole. His stomach throbbed with murderous pangs. The world warped and distorted at the edge of his vision. EAT! EAT! The Celestial Dragon repeated that one word like a blacksmith''s hammer pounding at the back of his skull. Each repetition brought his bones closer to rupture. Each repetition added another hairline crack in his control. NO! Erik yelled at it. Never again! The thought of feeding on the corpses made him queasy. Never again would he feast on a creature with conscious thought; it was too risky. How many more voices would it take until he was no longer himself? Until he was nothing but a lunatic? Never! ¡°Erik,¡± Hanna said, her crimson dripping face tilted in concern. He looked down at her in what he hoped was a smile, but feared might have been a sneer. ¡°I told you, ¡®For you, I would murder the world.¡¯ Did you not believe me?¡± ¡°You love me that much?¡± ¡°For over a thousand years Fiend Lords have plagued mankind and never had anyone been able to reverse the corruption of the Abyss after it took hold. Not once, until today. Until you saved me from myself.¡±Not to mention, I risked the throne to search for you. ¡°What does that tell you?¡± Hanna shifted a lock of hair that had fallen over her eye and smiled, though it seemed forced. ¡°Sometimes I forget I need to protect my heart from you. Then I remember her and the others, and the long procession of women you¡¯ve been through in your life, all convinced they were different from those that came before them.¡± ¡°I was young and a fool,¡± Erik breathed. ¡°Perhaps.¡± Hanna nodded, considering. ¡°And what are you now?¡± Erik pondered her words, feeling the strain from their journey in his long limbs. His eyes flickered close before jolting back open. I need to sleep. ¡°Older, but still a fool,¡± Hanna snorted but said nothing. Seconds turned into minutes, and still, neither one of them spoke. It was all Erik could do to keep putting one foot ahead of the next. Eventually, they ascended into a massive, circular chamber with a roof that ended in a point. It was cruder than the rest of the labyrinth had been, with walls made of a mixture of dirt and rock. And scattered throughout the room was a small army of D?kk, clustered in knots, weapons discarded, eyes despondent, staring off into nothingness. It was as if the will to live had been drained from them. ¡°That¡¯s our way out.¡± Erik pointed to the dark opening on the other side of the room, sensing Hanna shudder in terror as her eyes roamed over the Gray Skins. ¡°Is . . . there no other way out?¡± she whispered. Erik¡¯s face twisted into a frown. He often had to act cautiously out of necessity¡ªthe world was a dangerous place, filled with all manner of horrors¡ªbut he had never feared conflict with anything or anyone. Now, he feared, not for his own sake but Hanna¡¯s. ¡°Yes, there are many, but none closer,¡± he said. ¡°We need to leave now, this much carnage will draw monsters from kilometers away. They will come to feast, and we won¡¯t want to be here when it happens.¡± Hanna hesitated, then nodded; there was a note of anxiety around her eyes, but other than that she looked resolute. It surprised him, how easy her moods were to read today. This was never the case, Hanna was a master of the Game of Faces, never revealing iota more than she wished; which showed how much the last few hours had affected her. Erik led the way with his slow lumbering gait, Hanna a step behind. He clasped his longsword with both hands as his eyes darted around the chamber, searching for danger. The drying blood on his skin was sticky and made him want to itch, but he resisted the urge. His foot knocked into a small rock, and it clattered across the ground, booming with all the fury of a rockslide. Erik and Hanna froze. A gray face turned towards them, its large, black eyes unblinking. Other than that the creature continued to lie curled on the ground, chest rising and falling. It was as if it could not see what was before it, or perhaps it did not care to. Either way, they were safe for now. Rise brothers! Saxi yelled. Rise and defend our Kvik. Destroy the murderer and his whore! Shut up! Patrick told the Gray Skin. Erik sent Hanna a strained smile, then they continued, sneaking their way past the bewildered D?kk dispersed throughout the crude chamber. A slight sound drew his attention to the left. A large Gray Skin with a headband made of a tattered red fabric rose among a cluster of his prone brethren, gripping a bone spear. The dark shard in his forehead glittered with scant light falling from the gems embedded in the pointed ceiling. ¡°RUN!¡± Erik shouted, running towards the enemy. Toward the Chosen, a class of D?kk with powers to rival those of Cultivators. Erik sprinted, trying to quicken the two hearts pumping in his chest. The world slowed then jerked back into its normal rhythm, leaving him unbalanced and stumbling. Wide-eyed, he watched the Chosen flung a hand out towards him. The air distorted in front of Erik¡ªhe had no time for shock or fear¡ªand the next thing he knew he was tumbling through the air, twisting desperately, ears ringing with thunder. He crashed to the ground, slamming into prone Gray Skins, skidding until his head smashed into a wall. His skull rang. Pain exploded into his being. Erik gasped, blinking away tears; it was all he could do to breathe. His muscles spasmed out of his control. His hand twitched, searching for the hilt of his longsword. Die! Die! Saxi shrieked. The Chosen strode toward Erik, spear first. ¡°She¡¯s gone. Gone!¡± Tears leaked from the creatures large eyes. ¡°It¡¯s so quiet. So lonely. I¡¯m all alone!¡± He stopped inches from the Prince. A quick shiver ran through Erik. The Chosen jerked, falling to his knees, empty hand touching the point of the blade jutting from his flesh. He blinked, not understanding. Then he crumbled to the ground. Hanna stood behind him, peering down at Erik, a blood-stained shortsword in her hand. The Dark One’s Church – The Undying Prince 02 Important Points 1. Vote for us on topwebfiction.com ¡ª It only takes 5 seconds and you can vote once a week. 2. Rate/review us on webfictionguide. ¡ª 3. Always a couple chapters ahead on my blog ¡ª https://theundyingblog.wordpress.com/table-of-contents/ 4. Please, rate our story if you haven''t already. Without further ado, The Dark One¡¯s Church ¨C Book Two For anyone who''s interested Book Two in the Undying Prince series is now available on Amazon for per-order. Click Here!Stolen story; please report. Blurb: There is no shark like madness. There is no torment like love. Prince Erik has overcome The Change--the madness that turns Cultivators into Friendlords--yet the voices in his head are growing restless. How can he hope to protect the woman he loves when the abomination within wants nothing more than to devour her? The next great test awaits the Undying Prince where the Shattered Moon meets the Void.