《Leviathan》 Prologue In the world of Astreya, it is said that upon our creation, the people were blessed by the founding Gods. Everyone is born with a natural tattoo of their spirit animal. Every person gets the traits and abilities of their respective animal and in the most talented individuals, they may even be able to manifest it. But when I was born, my father, having a bear tattoo, and my mother, bearing a dove tattoo were horrified. For the tattoo on my back, the animal with which my soul was bound was something only whispered about in legends¡­ ____________________________________________________________________________ The world is split into five continents. Five large land masses each containing numerous countries split amongst several empires and kingdoms. The largest was Seranim, home to the strongest, greatest empire, my home. I grew up in the small town of Norm, in the Kingdom of Vaas. The weakest amongst the kingdoms which formed a part of The Great Calvarien Empire. My town was little more than a village and only had any importance due to the trade route that ran through its heart. The trade route ran North to South, North to the capital of the kingdom and south to our neighbors, the Kingdom of Seviya. ¡®Right bastards¡¯ my father would mumble under his breath. To our East and West were the towering peaks of the Dragonfall Mountains, the largest mounts in the empire which ran almost across the entirety of Seranim. My village was situated in one of the only passes that split the giant mountain range, named Feindall Pass, after the sword of Baalor, the God of War. Long ago, too long to even imagine, there was a battle between the Gods and a divine beast, The Leviathan. The tale proclaims that the Leviathan was the first True Divine, the first being to surpass mortal limits.Then, in a show of it¡¯s ever flowing love, it shared its success with the other mortals, allowing them to embark on the path of divinity. Together these beings remade the world. Creating a continent called Paleya where all of creation lived together in true serenity. But the other Gods were jealous of the Leviathan, because its powers still surpassed them, it¡¯s divinity became more profound and it reached a level of fulfillment none of them could hope to touch. So they colluded against it, they used its infinite love, its greatest strength, to bring about its downfall. Luring it to a place where it could not escape before attacking it. It is said that the battle lasted millennia, and at the end of it, the landscape was drastically altered and Paleya lay scattered. When the Leviathan¡¯s head fell for the final time, it landed on a huge mountain range on the largest continent, which had once been Paleya¡¯s heart. According to my mother at least. My father, however, told a very different story. He described the Leviathan as a ferocious beast, hell-bent on destroying the creations of the gods. He said it attacked Paleya with its strongest magical attack, and that if it wasn¡¯t for the timely intervention of Baalor, all creation would have been destroyed. Instead, with the help of the other Gods, Baalor managed to stop the catastrophic attack, but Paleya was broken as a result. This pass, according to my father was created when Baalor planted his sword into the ground to fend off the fierce attack from the beast, and where it¡¯s head fell after Baalor removed it. No one could say for sure which tale was the correct one. But when I listened to my mother, my heart warmed when she spoke of the Leviathan¡¯s love, and withered when she spoke of the betrayal. So i¡¯m more believing of her words than my father¡¯s. Though my father does call me ¡®demon spawn¡¯ and ¡®bastard not from my seed¡¯, so I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯d believe anything he told me. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ____________________________________________________________________________ The year is 1505 AF, 1505 years after the fall of the Leviathan, in the 4th month of the Calvarien Calendar. In the small town of Norm, a small boy lays trembling on the floor, whimpering and sniffling but noticeably doing his best not to move. A woman is draped over the boy, crying loudly and holding him tightly. ¡°Move woman! I told you to get rid of him when we saw his mark!¡± A man standing above them shouts, brandishing a whip in one hand and a bottle of ale in the other. ¡°Ravad please!¡± The woman cries out, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, ¡°He is our so-¡± ¡°He is no son of mine!¡± Ravad screams, eyes crazed as spittle comes out of his mouth, ¡°No son of mine!¡± The woman, whose beautiful face is stained with tears looks even more pained as if someone had stepped on her heart. When she speaks, her voice is as weak and broken as her heart. ¡°So...so I have slept with another Ravad?¡± She looks into his eyes, ¡°I have broken our promise?¡± Ravad takes a step back from his hurt wife, his eyes softening momentarily before the slosh of a liquid in a bottle brings his attention to his right hand which he raises to his lips. The ale seems to be fuel to fire though because when he lowers the bottle, his eyes are once again crazed. Ravad raises his hand and swings, bringing the whip across his wife¡¯s face ¡°You must¡¯ve ya wench!¡± He brings the whip down on her back and she screams, ¡°Went and bedded with another did ya?¡± Ravad unleashes a series of lashes upon his wife, ending up doubled over, panting from exertion. Loud boisterous laughter filled the room, covering the sounds of the two crying on the floor and when Ravad straightens up tears can be seen streaming down his face. Ravad walks to the kitchen table, grabbing the knife that was laying on it. ¡°Sarai, Sarai I loved you, I love you with all my heart, but you have birthed a demon and for that we should offer penance to Baalor,¡± Ravad says, reaching down and grabbing Sarai by the hair, dragging her off of the boy laying on the ground and pulling her to kneel in front of him, ¡°We will be welcomed into his court, for I am his son, and you my wife, even if you are a slag.¡± Sarai looks up, catching the wide tear-filled eyes of her frightened son, her only child and she couldn¡¯t help but cry. ¡°Az, my baby, my sweet, sweet boy, don¡¯t cry, mommy will be ok.¡± Ravad pulls her head back, and presses the blade of the knife to her throat, before looking at the demon on the floor in front of him. ¡°Look closely, you evil child, if you hadn¡¯t been born I would never have to give myself, MY WIFE!¡± Ravad suddenly shouts, causing the boy to flinch violently, ¡°In penance for your abnormality.¡± The boy¡¯s eyes widen impossibly as he realizes what his father was saying and starts to crawl towards his mother slowly. ¡°Mama? Mama, please don¡¯t go Mama! Please!¡± He cries, clutching his mother¡¯s robe, ¡°Mama please!¡± Sarai hugs her son close, thankful that Ravad was at least giving her this one last moment. Putting her lips to his ear she whispers, ¡°Run my baby, run far, far away, this place of men if full of bad people, follow your heart, follow your mark, it will lead you to your destiny, close your eyes and run away from this place, never look back my dear Azrael, never.¡± Sarai then pushes her son away, causing him to stumble, but stubbornly he turns back, only to get his face splattered with a red liquid spewing from the cut made by the knife that Ravad rubbed along her throat. Azrael falls backward and crawls away quickly as more of his mother¡¯s lifeblood spews onto the floor in front of him. His eyes wide with pure terror, he could only scream, ¡°Mama!¡± When Ravad lets go of her hair, Sarai falls forward onto the floor. She musters only enough energy to simply look up at her sun and whisper, ¡®Run¡¯, before blood spurts from her lips, and her eyes start to dull. Azrael was frozen for a moment before he spins. Doing just as his mother commanded, he runs out of the house and towards the mountains, not knowing where he was headed, not caring about the dangers, he just runs. ____________________________________________________________________________ As he watched the demon spawn run out of his house Ravad fell to his knees and prayed, ¡°Lord Baalor, I have done many wrongs in life but I have lived true to my blood, true to my creed and true to my belief, guide me into your eternal chambers that I may guard you for the rest of eternity.¡± He raised the blade and pressed the tip to his chest, right above his heart. Looking up to the sky, Ravad smiled, saying ¡°I¡¯m coming Sarai,¡± before plunging the knife into his chest, stabbing through the heart. Ravad fell back, beside his wife and managed to entwine his finger with her cooling ones before, with one last breath, he too died. Chapter 1 The Dragonfall Mountain Range was a series of cloud-kissing mountains which bisected the continent of Seranim almost in half. These snow-tipped peaks weren¡¯t just known for their size and significance, however, as they were littered with Feral Beasts. The animals of Astreya were all considered sacred, due to the fact that it was these same animals which bonded with the souls and bodies of the people. But after the war of the Gods, a taint pervaded the five continents. This taint would take over the animals, making them feral and driving them to attack anything and everything that they could. When these tainted animals¡ªdubbed ¡®Feral Beasts¡¯¡ªfirst appeared before the people of Astreya, it was a massacre. The animals, strengthened by the taint ripped through even the best warriors, striking fear into the hearts of everyone. This disparity in strength caused humanity to retreat into large cities because the only way for them to survive, was for them to work together. Then, in a spark of inspiration¡ªthough some say it was through divine intervention¡ª a warrior by the name of Jin Hai ventured out from the safety of his city into the dark depths of what would later be known as the Bloodwood Forest. A stretch of forest about 45,000 fang chi* which wrapped around his city. There Jin Hai found the animal which was bonded to his very soul, it''s image visible on his chest, the Platinum ranked* Midas Lion. Rare and elusive, the Midas Lion looked almost as though it was birthed from the sun itself, graced with a shimmering coat of pale gold and a tawny mane. Its eyes were a thing of mystery, for there was no recollection of a person who took the risk and hadn¡¯t gotten immediately turned to gold by its imposing gaze. Rumors flew, however¡ªsome proclaimed its eyes to be fiery and violent while others said it had warm, inviting ones, like pools of honey, a drastic change of pace from the predator it was known to be. The most widely believed was that the Midas Lion had hypnotic, lulling eyes, a flash of beautiful amber, but none knew for sure. The teeth and claws of the beast were sharper than any blade and capable of piercing steel armor as easily as a flame through paper. The Midas Lion was truly a fearsome beast, so much so that the people of the city advised anyone who saw it to simply run away before they attracted its attention. If they failed to run in time, however, it was often joked that they say a quick prayer and hope they taste bad. When Jin Hai met the beast, he simply stood before it, matching its gaze evenly. The lion regarded him calmly, before simply heading back into its cave, curling into a ball and going to sleep. It was many a year that Jin Hai had been gone from the city. So long in fact that many forgot about him. Those who did remember him were shocked at the man that appeared before them. It was said that Jin Hai arrived early one morning, with the rising sun at his back, dressed in nothing but his hemp pants and covered in numerous scars. His hair, which had before been brown and close-cropped, flowed down to the small of his back, bright blond. His eyes were amber, and slit like a cat¡¯s, his nails lengthened and filed to sharp points. In truth when he appeared before them, many guards fled the wall, proclaiming that the Feral Beast had attained human form. Jin Hai looked upon the city of his birth, its gates closed and the guards at the ready. But he simply closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then whispered, possibly his first words in far too long, ¡°I¡¯m home.¡±
It was often said, that the human mind is a powerful but fragile thing. Capable of enacting incredible feats of will and perseverance, but also capable of breaking when encountered with terrible or painful experiences. To many, the thought of someone''s mind breaking; the thought of someone being pushed to such an extent that they lose their sanity; the thought that it was possible to lose something that fundamentally made us who we are; is so farfetched that they think it impossible. But were they to see the young boy trudging slowly through the snow, covered in blood, they''d rethink that possibility. This little boy, who couldn''t be more than 8 summers old moved with such a slow, swaying gait, that he seemed like a drunkard just out of a tavern, picking his way home. The boy''s face showed no emotion, something that was out of place on the face of a child and made him seem more sculpture than human. His green eyes were those of a dead fish, wide and with a hidden depth that drew you into a dark, cold abyss. Though he moved through the snow in clothes too thin to fight the cold the boy showed no reaction to it, nary a shiver going through his body. This small, unnerving boy truly seemed to be dead to everything around him, dead inside. Though his face was not as emotive as it had been the night before, it was obvious that this was Azrael. He kept his slow, meandering pace up the mountain on which he walked, his destination unknown. The effects of the cold were starting to show as his lips and ears became blue, his fingers froze like icicles and his joints became stiff. The sun slowly rose from the horizon as the child continued his trek, illuminating the mountainside and causing the snow to glisten. Icicles hanging from outcrops and rock walls shined a myriad of colors along the ground, painting a captivating picture of lights capable of stealing one''s breath away. He paid no attention to the beautiful landscape though, keeping his dead gaze steadfastly ahead. Azrael walked for many hours, weaving aimlessly through the few trees that littered the snowy landscape. As he made his way around yet another tree, his foot snagged on one of its many roots, causing him to trip and fall face first into the snow with nothing but a soft thump. He made no move to get up, however, seeming content to simply lay there and die. As he laid there, drifting slowly to unconsciousness, a simple thought popped into his head, echoing in his mind. ¡®Is it my turn...Mama?¡¯
An indeterminable amount of time after, a cry pierced the haze surrounding his brain. The first time it rang out, he chose to ignore it, the biting cold lulling him slowly along the river of unconsciousness. The second time, he found it a minor annoyance as it hijacked this experience, grasping his awareness and pulling it to the forefront of his mind. It was only until the third cry, as he slowly began to wake up, that Azrael recognized the voice to be that of a young girl.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Curious, he mustered up the energy to lift his head a few inches off the ground, listening for the sound that may have very well saved his life. He rose shakily to his feet, looking around for the source of the noise. Luckily another cry did indeed come and for the first time since he''d began his trek, a spark of life flashed briefly in the boy¡¯s eyes. As he stumbled drunkenly in the direction using the sparse trees as resting points, Azrael felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. There hadn¡¯t been any more cries since he¡¯d started moving and for some reason, it filled him with a sense of dread. Growing up, he had been told many stories about the mountains on which he traversed. He knew of the extremely large Feral Beast population and how lucky he¡¯d been in not having encountered one. He also knew that someone screaming in these mountains could only mean ¡®danger¡¯ and it would be best to go as far from the sound as possible instead of toward it. But still, he trudged onward, toward his goal. Azrael happened upon a cliff and unsure where to go from there, he glanced over the edge only to stumble backwards in surprise and horror. Not quite believing what he¡¯d seen just a few moments ago, he crawled over the cliff¡¯s edge, peering over it once more. Below him, about 1 li away, was a clearing. In this clearing was a series of tents, tightly packed together in the pattern of a spiral around a large campfire. It wasn¡¯t this that caused his horror, however. Strewn around the camp, on broken tents and piled into small mounds were tens of bodies, human bodies. Most were eviscerated and shredded, barely recognizable blobs of bloody flesh and bone. Others were half eaten, with select chunks missing from their bodies. Azrael gagged, barely keeping himself from expelling what little contents were left in his stomach. For even at the distance of 1 li, the smell of blood, entrails and feces wafted up to him. The sound of crunching brought his attention to a shadowy being, crouch of a person, the twitching of the person¡¯s limbs every so often showed that they were still alive. The child brought a hand up to cover his mouth, his eyes wide in terror as he noticed more and more of these beings, in similar situations. A scream, very similar to what he¡¯d heard previously sounded from the clearing, drawing his gaze to a young girl possibly his own age and a man. Tears streamed down the girl¡¯s face as the man struggled to stop his intestines from falling out, and failed. The pair were surrounded by three of the shadowy beings as the boy knew deep in his heart, that they were doomed. But Azrael felt a burning sensation, like molten lava flowing through his chest. A desire to help them, even if it¡¯d lead to his own death. He stood, slowly from his perch, searching for a way to get down to the pair. Then a vision flashed before his eyes. Showing a young boy, barely four summers old toiling in a small garden, pulling stones from the soil. His face handsome, but gaunt, his black hair almost brown from the dirt that caked in it, his hands bloody from the multiple sharp rocks that he was handling. His eyes, a startling shade of green, were subdued and downtrodden with tears budding in their corners. He watched as the boy stood, whimpering as he looked at his hands. He watched as a man, with some similarities walked up behind the child, smacking him in the head and screaming at him to get back to work. He watched this sad child, tears spilling freely from his eyes, do as he was told, getting back on his hands and knees and pulling the stones out of the soil and putting them in a small basket. Watching this vision, something within him broke, causing tears to roll slowly down his face. This boy¡­was him. The vision changed to the same child though older, walking through the streets of a small town carrying a basket of vegetables. His bare feet were blistered and bruised from the rough ground, causing him to wince and stumble periodically. People walked past the boy, seemingly uncaring about why this young soul was doing such tasking work when he could be playing like the other children his age. The young Azrael then stumbled, tripping over his own feet, dropping the basket and causing the vegetables to spill across the street, yet no one stopped to assist him. When he arrived at his destination¡ªa small house in a corner of the village¡ªand showed the man from the previous vision the basket of bruised vegetables, the man yelled at him in fury, beating him brutally before throwing him out of the house and onto the street. Many people were walking past the house, and many looked at the broken boy laying before them, but again, no one moved to help. The vision shifted again, to a scene that many would not be able to stomach. This vision showed three people in a room. Azrael, the man and a woman who could only be the young boy¡¯s mother, for they shared many features. The man stood behind the woman who kneeled before the boy, with a knife to her throat. The woman gave her son a quick hug and then pushed him away as the man behind her rubbed the knife across her throat, splattering the young boy with her blood. The vision ended, causing Azrael to stumble forward slightly, gasping for breath. A voice reverberated through him, deep and a power so vast, that it encompassed his entire being. "Humans have always brought pain to this world. Their greed knows no bounds and their distrust towards each other reigns supreme. They know that they are weak so they fear what they don¡¯t understand, they take what they want, and they show no remorse. They care not for others, and they believe in nothing but increasing their own strength.¡± The little boy, standing on the cliff collapsed to his knees. The burning in his chest cooled, becoming instead a block of ice in his chest. The desire to help the pair wilting away as he watched the three shadowy beings close in on them. The larger of the three grabbed the man by the leg, dragging his body away from the girl and chasing the others from his meal. The other two pounced upon the little girl and her screams filled the air as they fought over her, each holding an arm and a leg while biting into her torso. The little girl¡¯s blood spouted like a fountain before with an echoing squelch and horrifying scream, her body split in two and the beings simply went their own way to sit and eat in peace. ¡°This world is a place where the strong triumph and the weak suffer. You have suffered for long because you have been weak because you have been ¡®Human¡¯. It is time for you to release these shackles, to become what you are truly meant to be. To become the supreme being on the face of this world. Come, my child.¡± The boy rose to his feet, feeling a sense of where the voice was telling him to go. So once again he walked, stronger and more sure-footed than he had since he¡¯d started out from his home. He walked because he had nowhere else to go. He walked because he believed it was his destiny. He walked...because he was weak. The boy walked until he came to a large ravine, many li deep, at the bottom of which sat a large lake. The ravine emitted the same sense of power as the being which had spoken to him before. Then, as if drawn by his thoughts, the being spoke to him once again. ¡°What is your name child?¡± The boy looked down into the large gorge, his thoughts unknown, before taking a deep breath and whispering, ¡°Azrael.¡± Then suddenly a force pushed him from behind, sending him flying into the ravine. The force of the wind rushing past him was so great that he felt unconsciousness encroaching upon him. As he slowly drifted off into oblivion he heard a final statement from the unknown entity. ¡°Welcome home, Azrael.¡±