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Souls of the Damned

Many aeons ago, in a land filled with riches and abundance, where peace reigned unhindered by anything, lived a kind called A'Khina. The realm was painted with lush greenery, its meadows were filled with blooming colours, and its sun was just warm enough so everything could grow and thrive. Seasons changed, and a new ruler rose, determined to bring change into the realm and show her people that there was so much that they hadn't seen or experienced. She broke the sacred law that had kept her kind safe for such a long time and allowed for the very first entry into their realm to one other kind. One man from a realm filled with abundance brought with him sparkling stones and precious metals, which began to ornate the Queen's Palace and the homes of the A'khina. The man was a merchant, one of the lowest of his guild, and his name was N'gatarkan. Time passed, and the man was allowed entry once every season to bring in his precious stones in exchange for grains and food. He slowly began to earn their trust, and with each visit, he found out more about the realm, and the more found he began coveting the power that made that realm so special. Many seasons passed, and he began planning and scheming an uprise and taking the power that he wanted for himself, and with it, the demise of an entire kind began, and he became the first of his kind. Aeons passed once more, and peace reigned in the realm until one day, the power he had coveted for himself, others wanted it just like he did. And a silent war began between what they called the First One and the powerful entities that desired to wield that power. To save his people and himself, he returned to his roots and bargained his precious life and the power he held in exchange for the safety of his kind, the sithrians. Until one day, when a girl was born unlike any other of her kind, with her white hair and sparkling emerald green eyes that held the promise of change but also led to her kind's demise once more. And thus our story begins.....

Blythe_Wood · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
475 Chs

The Dying Light

Chasing shadows, and ephemeral lights, had become a new preoccupation for Ian. Residing in the heart of the darkness itself, Ian awaited, for the soul collectors to return with news from other realms. The disturbance that he'd sensed, its unstable powers was troubling. Threatening the already fragile stability of the realms. Veiled, to preserve, and safeguard those who couldn't. A balance that had been disrupted by the deeds and greed of a man who coveted all for himself. The soul collectors obeyed and scoured each and every realm. Searching for clues as to what is causing the issue.

Whatever it was, it did not seek refuge among the living nor the dead. It sought refuge elsewhere. Out of reach. Out of everyone's reach.

Its strength rippled across the realms. Some were able to sense it. Others couldn't. But one thing was for sure. It wielded immense power. Dangerously unstable.

Ian took a deep breath, unable to take his eyes off the eternal flames. Each burst of power that billowed across the realm, seeped into his bones and echoed in his decomposing body. As if seeking a home. Droning for a place to call home.

" Fascinating," Ian mused to himself. Nobos hadn't returned in what seemed an everlasting eternity. Perhaps he'd found the source.

The Hollow trembled to its core when another wave surged, rutting through the realm. Small chunks of obsidian, dislodged and fell on the floor breaking into smaller pieces and scattering across the floor.

Worrisome. Ian finally peeled his eyes off the realm to look a the cracks that crested the dull black walls of his stronghold.

With a wave of his hand at the cracked obsidian, the woman he'd been trying to find his way back to appeared sitting at the table with the northerner. In a chamber alone.

" I wonder who won," Nobos mused, from behind Ian.

" Won what?" Ian didn't turn to look at Nobos. There wasn't much to look at, anyway.

" They entered a duel," Nobos stepped to Ian's side," Between those two. I didn't hear all of the conversation. But it was life and death. Neither of them are dead. So, I'm guessing it was a tie," He finished recounting what he'd heard when he briefly slipped through the veil to check on things. He has done so without Ian's knowledge many times. Perhaps out of loyalty or perhaps seeking for the right moment to land the deciding blow.

Staining his hands with the blood of the living wasn't in the nature of the once Shaddow Lord. A servant of the darkness, cursed to live an eternal life, with no memory of the loved ones he'd left behind. A forgotten life.

" I see," Ian hummed, and took a step closer to watching the scene unfold before him, eagle-eyed.

Bowed head, resigned. Slouched shoulders, pasty skin, a lot thinner than he'd remembered her to be, Iris slurped on her broth, apathetic.

Ian waved his hand and turned his gaze towards his domain once more. His decision to end Ettrick and take his place hasn't produced the expected results.

Drifting further apart with each passing day. Death would have been a small mercy. Watching it as it happened before his own eyes was rather cruel and heartless. The irony didn't escape him, as he bitterly smiled, showing his putrid teeth. Other matters were at hand.

Iris was safe, in the Southlands for the time being.

" Any trace of the shikari?" Ian asked as he turned around to walk to his seat. The book lay upon the table unfinished. A rather worthless bind of papers. Edifing a fallen civilization.

" No," Nobos paltered, as he turned to meet Ian's gaze.

Ian's gaze remained steady, searching for signs of untruthfulness. Nobos averted his gaze and pointed at the book.

" Any answers?" He asked as he picked up the book from the table.

" No," Ian leaned back in his throne, watching Nobos leaf through the book.

" I'm going to ask one last time," At the assertiveness in Ian's tone Nobos raised his head," The shikari?" Supposedly, being tied to the hip for so long provided Ian with some insight in terms of catching Nobos on the wrong foot.

" Some have crossed into the neighbouring kingdoms, but most of them have convened in the forest," Nobos cut himself off, as he closed the book with a thud.

" Forest?" There were many forests in the seven seas. Nobos sucked a breath, clasped his hands behind his back and turned his attention towards the obsidian wall. Iris dining with the northerner was not something unexpected seeing that they journeyed together from Dreissen to Whitsun without any heads rolling.

" Fiahtyr," Ian filled in the gap, surprised at his realisation.

" Vellai," Nobos turned to face Ian," To be more precise," Nobos waved at the wall and the image warped and changed to Vellai Castle, riddled with shikari. Surprisingly, untouched.

Considering that behind them was nothing more than scorched earth and destruction.

The scene was enough to make Ian push himself up from a chair, and attentively study the scene. An uncharacteristic behaviour had come to light, presenting a new dilemma. Why there?

" Strange..." Nobos's words rang in the dead silence that seemed to have wholly engulfed the Hollow.

" More than strange" Ian agreed as he approached the wall with slow steps, entranced by the behaviour displayed by the shikari.

No trace of savagery, or the barbaric and destructive behaviour that they have shown to be capable of in the past. They appeared to be organised, without anyone being in command.

" Collective consciousness?!" Nobos pondered out loud, briefly gaining Ian's attention. A glance over his shoulder and a nod was his only reply as he returned studying the beasts.

In spite of the appearance that defied even the creatures that lurked in the deepest and darkest of the Hollow. The shikari seemed to have settled to a certain rhythm. As if keeping watch over something. They patrolled the outside walls of the citadel and the inner grounds more ferociously than anything he'd ever seen.