Sorrow_Blade
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 Inregistrat: acum 20 ani
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Chapter IV - Dark
Opening his eyes all he could fathom was the abyssal darkness in which they had fallen in those days so long since passed; the days in which the demigods broke their wings and chased them from the skies; the days in which the human servants, so young a race, marched their armies against them. So many were slew amidst those peaks. He could see the arrows flying towards him, stabbing him in so many places, burning with the magic poison. And then, there was darkness and shadow, the earth opened and swallowed him along with so many of his kin. The demigods had abandoned them, feared them and defeated them.
He tried to move and felt the rusted metal still stuck between his scales, with blunted edges and broken tips. Bathed in his own blood, he had healed in those eons. Time had scarred his wounds and his suffering was no more.
A sound of shattering filled the cave as he tried to move his body, the blue, crystallized blood breaking away.
He managed to rise in all his might, roaring in recognition of his life, soon followed by others, embracing the slim edge of Fate that allowed them to resurrect.
The race had awakened, fed through time with the blood of kindred, of the ones that perished in those days of unholy war and offered their life in hope of salvation for others.
One by one, breaking the blood shell, the race of Azure dragons were returning from myth into reality, sensing Fulsag Fang’s silent call.
The last that fell from the blue into the darkness ignited one last breath of fire towards their opponents but all they could do was melt the stone closing in on them, and create various cracks through which air could sip in and allow them survival in that dimness. The dragons headed towards one of those cracks and plunged their claws in solid rock, some breaking it, boulders rolling through the cave; while some ignited the wall with their fires, melting the rock. Slowly they tore away their prison in blue flames and saw the night sky once again through the side of the mountain. Once again they felt the blistering cold and merciless winds which they so did adore. One by one they took to the skies, on dark-blue wings. In majestic flight they moved the blizzard from their wake and once again roared at the sky in full strength, as the storm was once again approaching.
Two figures witnessed the scene from a mountain path. An old man in a red cloak was standing dreamingly next to an ice wall and watched the shadows fly off into the night. He smiled as his companion approached him:
-It seems the wheels of time are in motion again! I wonder how long before all are reborn…
His voice seemed a whisper on the ethereal wings of the blizzard.
-Come on father! His son’s voice echoed in his mind and pulled him out of his meditations, despite the bitter cold; we must make haste! The storm intensifies and it’s getting harder to continue along this trail.
The old man nodded his head in approval and hastened his steps, challenging the feral eastern winds.
The ancient road seemed almost impracticable. An ingenious accomplishment by the Alliances aided by the dragon clans, the once protected road served as a connection between Grefe, the citadels hidden in the mountains and the kingdom of Shir. But that was eons back and the road was now derelict, devoid of its previous protection from the elements, when the sorcerers united their forces to provide safe passage for troops or for simple servants in their journeys. It was wide enough for two lines of soldiers to pass, fully equipped for war or a single line of riders.
The three elves found it now to be too narrow even for them, ice covering the walls of the ravine and the wind howling like mad above their heads, as if all ghosts gathered there to exact revenge upon their tormentors. Jinx seemed to know the path very well but even for her the weather seemed odd, being the first time a snowstorm was so powerful in that area.
-The blizzard is howling mad today! She yelled at her companions. We should try and shelter ourselves until the storm blows over.
-Where could you find shelter OUT here? Taros yelled in sarcasm, his voice almost covered by the savage groans.
Jinx approached him and tried to talk normal although the wind was pushing her into the wall. Her sword gave her stability as it hung heavily on her back, with a few bits of ice stuck on the handle.
-When the road was created, the workers had dug small gaps in the ravine wall for resting, eating, and some gaps being veritable caves. If we walk next to the ice wall we’re bound to find one of those fissures, even if many of them had been covered by the glacier or rock slides.
Vercad was a bit ahead of them, embracing the wall so that he would not lose sight of his companions because of the snow blind. The altitude and the powerful gusts made it hard even for him to breathe as he moved forward. Jinx and Taros were now close behind him when he felt the ice, covering the wall, chink as he leaned against it. The sound was weak but being so close to it he could distinguish it from the mountain’s sounds.
-Taros, lend me your strength here….
-What is it?
-I believe there’s a fissure here. Help me break away this layer!
Taros pulled out his sword and stabbed powerfully in the frozen layer. The ice felt cracking and the blade plunged in it from tip to tilt. After pulling out the sword, Taros and Vercad smashed against the frozen stratum. At that point the ice gave way and they plunged head first into the cave, followed by Jinx. The wind remained shrieking outside.
The cave wasn’t deep, but it was pretty warm and compared to the tempest outside, a blessing. They could finally rest after following the winding paths for the last few days, slowly moving to the east. The storm had caught them in the worst of places, exposed and with little protection from nature’s power.
Jinx pulled down her cloak. The cloaks were made especially for the weather they just faced, being sowed with a protective inside made from small animal fur. It didn’t offer great protection but it was enough to keep them alive.
Her sword produced an echo in the cave as it hit the rock floor.
-Much better! Jinx exclaimed. At least we can rest here until it will be safe to travel again.
-Fierce weather...I don’t think we’ll be going anywhere until dawn.
Vercad’s voice stirred the heavy air. It wasn’t stale as expected for a sealed cave…it was as fresh as the one outside.
Taros was leaning against one of the walls with a serious look about him. He seemed to concentrate on listening to the echoes outside and inside, paying no attention to what was talked.
-Something bothering you?
-It’s nothing. Just thinking how could we find a fissure with such a frail ice covering? These parts are deserted, nobody threads these ways. Which ever places are under ice are supposed to be sealed for good. Only a mage could break the ice gates of these caves.
Jinx and Vercad seemed to notice this also but they weren’t concerned at that point. The only thing important was to wait for the moment in which they could leave and in the meanwhile to get some rest.
-Leave it be; she said tapping him on the shoulder. The cave is empty beside us and no creature could survive outside right now. The wind is howling even worse now. I say we rest and be ready in the morning…even if the winds don’t stop, we’ll have to continue our journey.
-Probably….but I’d rather stand guard this night.
With that having been said, the three chose a place in which to spent the night and after wrapping themselves in the covers, Jinx and Vercad fell quickly asleep as Taros sat in the bottom of the cave, paying attention to every sound he could perceive.
The snowstorm showed signs of receding in the earliest hours of the morning. The creature finally began to move, stretching its slim, clawed limbs. It started to move on the ceiling, barely heard, making itself visible. A spider-like being, it moved like a shadow, joined by two others that slept in wait for their pray to arrive. And now, their hour had come.
Taros was almost asleep. He had surveyed the entrance the entire night until he had convinced himself that there was nothing to fear in that darkness. He was about to give away his fears when and get to sleep for the day at hand when something grabbed him by the head and flung him across the room, hitting the rock wall and falling onto Vercad. Taken by surprise by the noise and out of reflex, Jinx jumped on her feet grabbing her weapon.
-Shadow-Stalkers! She yelled at the other two who were now trying to get up.
Three creatures were standing in front of the cave entrance, tall and slim, grotesque in appearance. They had human like stature but slim to the point of skeletal. Three pairs of arms were sprouting from their bodies, with three claws on each, with each arm weighting the strength of five warriors. They moved hypnotically from side to side, always fixing their pray with the four eyes that lit their disfigured faces.
For a moment, Jinx felt lost in the depths of those dark blue eyes but found the force to not get scared. Another creature crawled down the wall and changed its color to that of the young dawn outside. One of the stalkers tried to attack but just a few feet away from Jinx an arrow skewered his head. The creature tumbled, trying to grab the arrow and pull it out. Jinx seized the opportunity and with one slash, it smashed the creature’s side, crushing under the heavy yet blunt blade, two of its arms and its chest. A screech was let out from the stalker’s head as it fell in its puddle of blood.
Taros was already up but waddling because of the hit he had taken. A red stripe was cresting his cheek with a visible source near his left eye. Two of the creatures had already moved out of sight, crawling like chameleons on the walls, unseen and unheard. A short scream came from Jinx when one of the Shadows attacked her from behind. It was now crushing her with two pairs of the arms, while the third pair tried to take the sword from her hands.
Vercad was trying to aim for the creature in the semi-darkness. The shadows caught shape next to him and the Stalker ripped the bow from his arms and assaulted the elf. Having immobilized him, the Shadow-Stalker tried to impale him with its claws. The young hunter, who never faced such beings before, just tried a desperate way of escaping, striking with his head the creature’s cranium. The sudden shock blinded it and weakened its hold. The pair of eyes, which suffered the blow, was bleeding and that turned the being berserk, throwing Vercad to the side and just attacking him in a crazed frenzy.
The attack didn’t last long, Vercad slashing its neck with precise timing, just as the creature was folding its arms around him to try and grab him.
Jinx dropped the sword and, with one arm, was trying to free herself from the choke hold and with the other to make the second pair of limbs let go of her abdomen. However, her strength was dwindling as she neared the brink of collapse under the superior strength of the Stalker.
The grip loosened suddenly when Taros’s sword plunged into the being’s neck from one side. With one twist of the sword, the creature fell into total darkness, its head barely hanging on its shoulders. Jinx fell to her knees gasping for air:
-Where’s the other one? She asked when she noticed just three bodies.
The last one was outside, watching the sky. With all his force, he ripped open the binds on his mouth, distorting his own face. His yell was the scream of blood as it spilled from his ruptured jaw, with ingrown teeth. He screamed at the sun as it was rising, his only sound since birth. His cry ended swiftly, only echoes remained testament to his existence, as his body stiffened.
The black feathered arrow shot through the figures head, disintegrating it, the ash scattering in the wind.
-Ash?! It turned into ash?!
Vercad couldn’t believe what he witnessed.
-It was turned into ash…Taros corrected him. They failed their mission so the punishment was….cruel.
-It seems that we have some eyes upon us. Not friendly! But what were our foes? I’ve never seen anything like them before…
Jinx had his answer:
-The spies and assassins of the sorcerer kingdom on the edge of the world, before the great lakes of fire. Born as humans or elves, their tongue is sealed at birth. Their bodies are modified through witchcraft or necromancy, replacing all weaknesses and enhancing all attributes. They feed only on the magic energies of their home lands and live just to serve and obey the dark lords of Mar.
-Their ambushes are notorious and luckily for us, there were only four this time, among which a more willful one. Let’s tend to our wounds and get a move on before the winds pick up once again.
-Agreed!
Having tended to their wounds, they were headed east through the ravine before the morning was consumed.
On the farthest reaches of survival, in the darkest south, the fortress of Blackstone stood for thousands of years before the rage of ice and blizzard. A few keepers kept the ancient halls lighted and kept watch over the relics in the deepest altars. Deep within its walls, the fortress and its servants, subdued to no one but their ancestral duty, the seals of the old ones slept. Shining in the fade light from almost burnt out torches, the stone skulls ornaments on the center altar began secreting a dark substance, peeling away the signs of age, hardening and becoming as gold. The round emblem imbedded in the altar was also bleeding from its edges. With each second, the symbol in its center was becoming clearer until it was fully visible to be the sign of the second era since the dawn of creation.
A young servant of those halls was coming to renew the torches in the chamber of seals when he saw the light coming from the center seal. He dropped the carafe of oil and the new torches and ran as fast as he could to the abbot’s chamber, to inform him of the failure of the teachings.
By the time the abbot arrived with three others, the seal had already crumbled to the point in which only a crystal symbol remained of it, emanating a divine light upon its embedment.
-These are not the teachings! This was never supposed to happen before the age of eternity.
The abbot was clearly shaken by the event. He tried to maintain a composed attitude but could not attain it. The event was too great, it meant too much…
-Prepare the expedition to the valleys! Send word of this to the kingdoms of all sentient beings…
Over the great sea the mist was raising yet she had no shape….
Chapter V – The gathering of power
How wonderful was the taste of fresh meat. After eons of sleep and starvation, now they fed to their hearts contempt in the small village at the base of the mountains. They heard the call, they knew its meaning, they knew its importance but yet…they feasted. The village was burning, dark clouds of smoke rising into the air, reaching for the clouds but getting dispersed by the powerful winds before becoming one with the blue. But their feast continued…humans or cattle; both were the same for them now, both nothing more than food for their starving bowels. Another house crumbled under the flames, the sound of its collapsing lost in the noise of the inferno and the desperate cries. The village square was nothing more than piles of rubble. The kin were as heartless now as were their jailors centuries before. The cries were nothing more than the agony of food grasping for its last seconds. All they could hear was the shattering of bones between their jaws and the sounds of barns coming down around them, buried in their blue flames. The inferno was no longer fed only by the village’s wood but also by its flesh, humans catching fire and trying desperately to survive before being taken down by the might of the Azure Dragons or buildings coming down on them.
The call came stronger…like a desperate scream over that sea of fire, chaos and death.
“Father…�...the single thought filled their minds as they took off at once, spreading the flames as they took air and heat under their wings. The blue wings disappeared into the cloud of smoke, one by one above the mountains.
The days had passed fast on the snowy paths. Above the roof of that world, the party of three was finally in range of their goal. Fulsag Fang was just beyond the range of the peaks, its towering magnificence visible before them. There was only a day’s way until they reached the great bastion. Even if the road was destroyed by time’s caprices, it was still better than climbing the steep walls. They walked in silence, weary from their long trip up until there and the fear of another ambush. Their enemies had pursued them for two days but let up as they neared Fulsag Fang. They walked almost without stop, their rest was little and scarce with one of them on guard.
-We haven’t seen any signs of beasts for days now; said Vercad as they stopped to rest in a small alcove, next to the road.
-Shouldn’t we rest more for now? He continued as he leaned against the ice wall breathing heavily.
Jinx set down her sword and stretched her shoulders and arms, feeling all her bones snap and realign themselves, giving her a sensation close to pleasure.
-We aren’t far from the citadel. I think we should press on and reach it before tomorrow’s dawn.
-That might not be a good idea; Spoke Taros as he opened one of the last flasks of water and took a sip.
-There is a narrow ravine up ahead if we continue on this road. If there is an ambush in wait for us, right there would be the perfect place for it. I agree with Vercad when he says that we aught to rest here more.
Jinx scratched her head, more like an automatic motion than a necessity and silently agrees:
-If that gathering is as important as Gnejase said, I doubt we’ll be resting upon arrival. But tell me Taros, how do you know how this road continues? She inquired picking up her weapon and searching in the backpack for her stone to sharpen the great blade, although it wasn’t something that needed to be done. The blade of the sword was pretty blunt, but because of its weight it could go through a body without much difficulty. She just used the stone to clean the blood and give herself an occupation.
Taros didn’t answer her question. He just looked towards the semi-ruins which were visible in the mists of that day. The party was on a plateau above the level where Fulsag Fang had been dug in the stone by the startling power of the demigods; their place of rest, their place of isolation, the place where they felt each other dying and where they sealed away their immortality. They renounced the power of creation and fell into a sleep deeper than death, throwing their own bodies in the abysses of Sapheria, the world they created and ruled when their minds and hearts were young and strong.
-Hmm, the steel silence of the drow…I won’t bother.
Jinx had come to know Taros in those days of travel, a bit at least. She knew that his silence was forged stronger than steel. Of the three she was the less tired one. As a message carrier she got used to all kinds of terrains in her 412 years of existence. She had seen the walls of Fulsag Fang before but was never allowed passage inside.
They left the alcove the next morning and headed down the path. It had been a cold night, the last one they had to suffer in that barren rock land.
Indeed there was a narrow valley just before they could reach the fortress. All their dark thoughts from the day before were laid to rest there as the passage was clear and no vile creatures attacked them in that dangerous place. The silence was dreadful as they moved in a row through the ravine. A sound or echo of a stone falling was all that attracted their senses.
Before them stood the impressive gates of the stronghold, encrusted with symbols that had lost their meaning in the millennia since their creation. The gates were of massive stone, held in place by great metal hinges.
As they neared the gates, a call echoed in the sky and a flock of shadows blocked the sun, flying like ravens to a place of feasting. The beasts landed on the cliffs surrounding the fortress, clinging with their claws to the snow covered peaks, making a terrible noise which echoed in the valley.
-Azure Dragons…?! Taros mumbled to himself.
As if a signal had been given, the dragons quieted down and turned their eyes towards Fulsag Fang. The massive gates opened with a powerful sound. From the semi-darkness a tall, slender man walked out. He wasn’t wearing any armour, just a normal blue tunic. Two blades hung at his waist strapped to a wide belt, simple swords with no inscriptions or ornamentations.
He walked forward toward the awn struck party of three and spoke in the purest elven tongue possible so far away from the elf kingdoms:
-Emissaries from Grefe I believe. We have been expecting your group. Many have gathered and you were the last ones.
And with that he extended his arm as a sign of good will.
Taros walked towards him and shook his hand. His expression changed and turning towards the peaks he yelled:
-Great Ones, now, after your day of awakening, may your leader come forth and join in this gathering, for the fate of all.
His voice thundered around the mountain sides, echoing over the vastness of that moment. It was a great moment indeed, the royal race having returned into the destiny of Sapheria. From the closest summit one of the dragons took flight. He flew a circle above them and then set down in front of the gates. The beast was even larger than Yudam, with scars that stretched across his entire body, testament of his ferociousness in battle and his resilience; a testament of a warriors heart. This dragon however had no intention on sharing his thoughts with the elves. He proceeded through the wide opened gates, followed by Taros who walked besides the citadel warrior.
The dark elf seemed changed; he seemed older somehow, as if the years were now his strength, walking proud through the darkness, next to the beast that shared his might. Vercad and Jinx moved closer to him so that they wouldn’t get lost in that dampness. They were still amazed by the legends outside. Those dragons were lost to myth even to the elves, stories around the campfire at celebrations, not the palpable reality they were following.
The gates shut close behind them when they noticed a weak light in front of them. Their guide stopped and grabbed a torch from an embedment in the wall and lit it with the help of a white stone which sparked violently in contact with the wall.
The room was huge but clearly just a wing of the entire structure. The light from the torch barely touched the walls, showing dark statues rising to the bolted ceiling, each one masterfully sculpted in the details of those to whom they were gifted. A short warrior wearing spiky armour and wielding a mighty axe, a sage holding his book in the chanting of a spell, a knight grasping his sword at his chest, an archer tightening his bow, a cloaked mistress watching the travellers; statues of great beasts adorning the walls, dragons in flight with their heads smashed in an avalanche of anger; even statues of elves and humans, with the traits for their noble faces lost to time, all were beautifully modelled in the stone, enshrouded in the veil of perpetual shadow, barely lifted by the gentle light from the flame. A sharp reflection of light from the dragon’s folded wings drew their attention for a second, the veil of darkness took back its rights and the statues remained behind them, as the walls ended and the hall merged with the other halls in a grand room. Five more groups were now walking at the same time as them, face shown only by the pale light wielded by their guides: a human mage and his guardian warrior; a summoner from the lands of Moass, with her head bowed in silence, she walked behind the guide, a large dire wolf trailing her steps; two more dragons stepping proud, with the imagine of ages about them, wise and powerful; a crimson fiend of Garr’al, the realm next to the sea. The last ones were three dwarves, bearing the vestiges of their journey and equipped for battle; there was Gadwar leading them, warrior renowned across the kingdoms for his ferocity in the last war, one of those that managed to wound Gracka enough for Deramin to have a chance in defeating it. All the sentient beings of Sapheria had gathered their agents there and were now marching towards the innermost sanctum.
The wind didn’t seem to allow existence of life that day. It gripped ferociously to the jagged rocks, screamed his fury in the echoes, more terrifying than the flames of the Underworld, the realm of death and desperation, gifted to all and opened to none of the living.
In Blackstone, the message carriers were preparing the gryphons for the expedition. Those noble creatures were only kept in Blackstone, having been hunted near extinction for human kings, for their royal halls, prizes for knights who won the competitions. Such beauty, grace and strength was more valuable than the rubies paid for them but yet, they blindly killed many, the only few surviving were kept in the citadel, used only for expeditions, their wings being strong enough to face any kinds of wind.
Six riders were on the roof of the citadel, next to the staples where the gryphons slept. Six beasts were brought out, stretching their wings and tiny shards of ice falling like diamond dust from their feathers.
The men supervised by the abbot and clothed in the sturdiest leathers and furs, meant to keep them alive in their journey north, were sent to all those that needed to know about the event.
They strapped themselves on the backs of the gryphons and trusted their fates into the beasts’ power.
They took off...
The light became unbearable as they entered the room. The doorway had collapsed in time, the massive doors lying shattered at their feet. One by one they passed the barrier of light and found themselves in the throne room, though there was nothing to indicate it. The room was in ruin, the light emanated from a few crystals which adorned the walls, once covered in gold and precious stones, precious gifts crafted by skilful hands, trophies presented by strong huntsmen. Nothing anymore, nothing survived the terrible wrath that besieged the fortress.
In the centre of the room, where the wall was one with the eternal mountain, there was the greatest proof of the madness that the last age left. There stood Adamar, for ever trapped in stone, left with only one limb to agonise over his existence, with his chest ripped open and robbed of his gift of Death for all eternity.
-Adamar, father of the noblest kin; Declared Taros so that all could hear him. The dragon opened his eyes and watched Taros approach. Behind him came the Azure dragon.
He closed his eyes again, the clear blue eyes of the Great Ones. Trapped in stone, his wings hung skeletal on the floor, lifeless and broken. Bits of them were caught in the wall when he was punished but he ripped them in his desperation, in his times of solitude and terror. He clung to the cold floor, trying to break himself loose, deep scratches were proof to his attempts of escape. He struggled for years on end, for eternity it seemed until his claws blunted away as did his will. Everything was taken from him, even the simple joy of madness that would eventually engulf all those with the eternal heart.
He opened his eyes again when Taros put his hand on his wounded wings, gently moving it towards his head, drawing a shiver with his touch.
-You have suffered much my friend. I bring no salvation as I have brought none in all these centuries.
The dragon looked at him and then, as the others moved closer, he distinguished that all he had summoned had arrived and more. He now saw one of his children, Asgar, the strongest of his kind, awakened by his call. Something would change then. Looking at all that gathered, he pronounced:
“-I am Adamar, witness of ages and madness.� His voice resonated in their minds as if time itself was speaking to them and images filled their vision.
“-All of you have received a bit of my knowledge and my guidance throughout your life. You are my eyes in this world, my hope. I have guided you until this moment which was not supposed to be, which I both hoped for and dreaded.�
The others found their mind invaded by images, from the dawn of the immortals or predictions of the future; a jumble of scenes, of attacks, of sacrifices and hatred. As the images faded…the dragon’s voice sounded again.
“-I have called you forth as I had done countless times in countless years with countless others. Each time in the past all there had been was a stirring in the balance of this world. But this time, the danger is greater; the balance is shifting as we speak. An awakening is readying itself for this world though I do not know why or when. You all shall be told the truth behind all legends and you alone shall decide your actions.�
The sage walked forward and spoke:
-For 50 years I have been guided by You, my Lord. For 50 years I have offered counsel in times of war and peace, counsel based on your advice. The kingdom of Grefe has known prosperity and victory in all our trials. I, Marius, from the human race shall follow your word further, even to my own death.
The summoner declared as well:
-I, Greed of the summoners, shall follow you words as well. I lay my life before you as you shared countless secrets with me and helped me and my people during our times of wandering through the darkness.
One of the dragons, belonging to the race of fire dwellers, the red dragons of Fiero, spread its wings as a sign of respect and spoke in its own tongue:
-Adamar, brother to our fathers and sole survivor of thy time…I have witnessed thy knowledge in the past. Trapped in stone and robbed of all but thy sanity, I praise thee for the work of centuries in the name of Sapheria. I shall walk this destiny led by thy guidance as I am sure Yudam would too. In his name and all my brethren, I, Kalagos, shall not stray from thy guidance.
The other dragon, white as the peaks that surrounded them, bowed its head and preferred to remain in silence.
The elves couldn’t understand what was going on and looked to Taros for explanations. Noticing their troubled faces, Taros turned towards them:
-All shall be explained! He said in a deep, reassuring voice.
The dwarves remained in silence as well, looking mistrusting at their surroundings and, at the same time, starring amazed at the vastness of that single room, which time had desecrated but which was still retaining some of its opulence. Only Gadwar nodded his head towards the trapped one.
“-Full well, as you wish it shall be!� Asgar was the only one that kept the same look about him, waiting for the explanations that would follow, unwilling to seek fast conclusions to his fears and suspicions.
The great dragon lowered his head and closed his eyes. When he opened them, all those that participated were engulfed in a swirling storm of images, slowly becoming coherent and Adamar’s voice thundered over them.
“-It was a time of creation. The demigods, sons of a single God which chose sleep for eternity upon creating his children and leaving the world to their care and wisdom. They shaped the world as they saw fit separating the heat from the cold and creating life in between the two and silence opposite to the life. Such was the birth of the mountains of ice and the lakes of fire and the continent of Demaes, which stretched between the borders of stone that kept it from the inferno and the glaciers and was margined by the Great Sea over which reined the silence.
And they shaped the small piece of existence as they saw fit. They seeded the forests with fruits of their imagination. They dug the rivers and the borders; they made the soil rich and made it grow life only to take it back in itself to fuel other lives. And they made the animals, to occupy the forests and offer joy to their eyes. In the end they built their eternal citadel, using their hands to break the mountain and give it the shaped they desired. Then, they rested, each in their own throne, watching over their own creation and supervising the whole.
And so the first age ended…
But the demigods grew tired of the small things they created. They started to change from one another and saw the beauty in different things, shutting away their thoughts from the others. But still, they grew tired.
The Warrior was the first to give another shape to his own thoughts. He wanted something to call his own and to cherish. So he took the darkness and gave it shape, made it material and saw the beauty in it. He poured all his energy, all his imagination into that creation and thus he created the first dragon, father of darkness born from darkness. He was named Drako, and was as wonderful as his creator, as powerful and as wise.
The Sage saw the creation and he approved of it, felt love for it and decided to make it a pair. And thus he created the counter part for Drako and named her Guir. And she was as wonderful as her creator, much wiser than Drako but more sensible to the caprices of matter.
The others saw these wonders and were mesmerised by their grace and beauty. From The Warrior’s idea, they each created a pair in the likeliness of that piece of nature that each preferred.
The Knight created the race of Red Dragons, destined to love the heat and the bottomless lakes of fire. And he named them Smoke and Marre and thus he loved them.
The Archer created the race of Sapphire Dragons, green as the marshes they would love and inhabit. He gave his pair no name, for they would need none, just his admiration.
The Mistress chose to create a unique pair. She created me, Adamar the Blue and my mate, Bliza the White, destined to make a race that would split into two directions, always turning to their domain, the world of stillness, the world of ice.
All had a pair to call their own, but one.
And all the couples mated and expanded their race until the world had been theirs, indulged by their creators to survival. And they thrived, learning from their masters.
And that was the second age.
But The Loner could not be satisfied by the dragons alone. He befriended me and confided in me yet he felt that the world was incomplete. He took a decision to create something that he would love as the others loved us and complete his reality.
He took the music of the forest and made it into substance. He took the grace of birds in flight, the beauty he saw in everything and gave it shape and named it elf. He did not create one; nor did he create a pair. He created groups, a whole race. And he gave them all that Demaes had to offer. They chose to love the beauty of nature and ravel in its glory.
The other demigods noticed the new beings and as before, felt love for them as well, as for all the creations of their brethren. And, as before, they felt that something was flawed and each perfected it in his own way. Such was the birth of the aware creatures of Sapheria.
The last, came the humans, for which all had chipped in and offered them a small gift. Even the ancient dragons loved them and chose to guide them, to teach them about the works of their creators. And the humans learned quickly and excelled in everything they chose to. And the days were peaceful. The masters even took the shape of their preferred race so that they would live amongst them and teach them further.
But the demigods also knew the mind of all creatures, all but the dragons which, in their knowledge, forged their wills and hid their thoughts. And in the minds of the new creatures they found new feelings that were unknown to them until then. They discovered hope, courage, greed, hatred, suspicion and arrogance. They were amazed by their new discoveries. These feelings were so new to them and interesting, as they used to tell us. They considered us friends until those feelings they discovered found their way into their hearts. Our creators started looking at us distrusting and started to hate us for our vast knowledge that rivalled theirs. They even began distancing themselves from one another. Their days of council in Fulsag Fang were now grim and quiet, each meditating on the others, finding faults and reasons to hate them.
Day by day they grew insane. Nothing mattered to them but their growing hatred towards their first great creations. The first to be lost was Smoke, which was killed by the Warrior as an act of superiority. That led to the Wars of Fire, where the dragons tried to protect themselves from the unjust wrath bestowed upon them. The human armies were promised great wealth for each head of a dragon they returned. The elves wished for no part in that madness and were protected in their decision by The Loner, who still retained his sanity and his love for his creations.
There was so much blood shed in those crimson days, from many beings. Armies burned, dragons fell from the skies poisoned by dark potions which were made with the wit of humans, and the knowledge of healing acquired from the Sapphire ones, perverted and combined with arts of magic.
Our kin fought bravely but our ranks withered away. The ones that showed the most rage in the heat of battle were the Azure kin, born from two kinds, more powerful than all of them. They did not try to survive; they just fought for the world, for their right to life and justice. The final battle was lead atop the Blue Crests, the peaks now know as the Shattered Mountains. The demigods shed their reserves and wished to fight themselves; as such they grew wonderful black wings, wings of ravens. They took to the sky in all the pleasure of the hunt and the kill, raining death upon those that served them once. Fires filled the clouds, fires and clouds of poison. It was a majestic battle, all the noble races moving about that moment.
The maddened creators dodged attacks with ease, flew as lightning and ripped wings as they flew. Archangels of death, they took numerous wounds but in they glorious madness they did not notice any of them. They got on backs of dragons and ripped off their wings hurling them downwards and looking with immense glee as the bodies smashed against the rocks, flying down to deliver a final blow if their victim was still moving.
They used the powers that were once for creation, to destroy and annihilate the creation. The storm they raised seemed to rise out of the Underworld itself. It was moaning and screaming, taking down one dragon after another with its bolts of energy. The demigods still battled, ripping throbbing hearts from chests filled with heat and will to survive. The cruelty of that day was not to be sung, was not to be remembered. Such a horrid day it was.
The last act was being played. The mountain bellow shattered and opened its bowels as a grave welcoming its corpse. And then the combined their powers and with one enraged scream the transformed the wind into pure energy and cut down as many of the noble kin as they could, all falling and twitching towards the opened bowels of the mountain. Falling in agony, they ignited last breaths of fire towards their tormentors but could not touch them. My entire race was taken away take day. I survived at their will. Their final act of the war was to entomb me where you all can see me. As I cried out my pain, their madness recessed and they saw the essential flaw in themselves. They still hated us but they did not go after the ones that escaped. They chose to make me the testament of those ages and granted me immortality as I am right now. They tore open my chest and took my heart, setting it to beat eternally somewhere in Sapheria. The Loner cried along with me, sharing my pain and considering it his burden. During the battles he had stayed behind the attacks. He could not defend us nor could he battle alongside his brothers.
That war showed them their vulnerability to their own deceit, the simple feelings of the human heart taking easy hold of them. They feared themselves and the harm they could cause even further.
In my blinding pain I bared witness to their last vote. They chose to sleep as the one before them did, wandering amongst the dead. They became as one and threw their bodies in the abyss between the world of life and that of silence. The two worlds were not bonded at that time and a rift as deep as the sea of stars widened between them.
All of them renounced their power and took their madness along into the abyss, restoring balance to their loved world.
And thus ends the third age.
But the Loner stayed behind. He renounced his shape and took on the shape of a dark elf, renouncing his knowledge and most of his past memories and all of his strengths.
He created seals out of the earthly belongings of the others and sealed the rift with their powers and the last of his. The seals have been handed to the keep of humans in the most remote of places, to be forgotten in time.
The Loner took a name of his own and promised me to find my heart so that I may be freed from this accursed existence. Alone, it is almost impossible for him to find what has been taken from me. His eyes cannot peer across the entire world and his feet cannot reach the most distant of places. Yet he travels and hopes…his name is Taros!�
A day and a night had passed when the images ceased and all that remained was the present moment. They did not tire during that time. And they did not hunger. The knowledge they were offered was of a great importance and that gathering as well. More was to be revealed.
Taros walked forward:
-The truth has been said and I say this to you now: a great power is rising but there is time to prevent it. We don’t know how much the balance has shifted…
His words ended as an echo of banging filled the room; the sound of a door being smashed. At the end of the dark hall behind them a light pierced the dark and in it a shadow walked forward…
Modificat de Sorrow_Blade (acum 20 ani)
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