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The Eternal Monarch: Saga Of A Wanderer

[It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul, The Darkness bends down like a mother of grief, On the limitless plain, and the fall of her hair, It has mantled a world.] In a world where the powerful hold sway and treachery lurks in every corner, Arthas finds himself at the heart of this grand design. Betrayed by his own, he is thrust into a new world. With the memories of his past life lingering within him, he embarks on a journey as a wanderer. In this gripping tale of power and destiny, Arthas struggles with his own inner demons while confronted with external challenges that threaten to tear the fabric of this new world apart. The choices he makes and the alliances he forms will determine not only his own fate but also the fate of those around him. A wandering warrior's journey through endless nights into the constant unknown. "Forever, I will be a stranger to myself," he told himself.

WandererMonk · Fantasy
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6 Chs

The Meeting I

Within the confines of the house, a shroud of somber darkness enshrouded every room. And inside a particular room, Arthas, weighed down by an immeasurable grief, remained motionless, his anguished heart cradling the lifeless form of a child in one hand, while the other clenched a gun in a desperate grasp.

His eyes held a vacant emptiness, mirroring the depths of his despair.

...….

[Commencing the search for The Anointed.]

The Power's trajectory led it to a distant realm - a blue-green marble suspended beyond the Void - where even echoes surrendered to their demise.

In the fulgent expanse of its cosmic pilgrimage, the Power descended upon Earth, its quest ongoing.

[...the search continues.]

Driven by an enigmatic purpose, the Power embarked on its sweeping scan of the entire planet, its cosmic gaze penetrating the very essence of existence, tirelessly seeking its elusive quarry.

And soon, nearly a billion souls unwittingly became subjects of this unseen force, as it inexorably advanced toward their homes.

[The Anointed has been found.]

Just as the cosmic ballet reached its zenith, a revelation of destiny unfurled. Amidst the multitude of humanity, one soul stood chosen.

Swiftly, the Power altered its trajectory, directed towards the singular soul amidst the billions.

[The Anointed has been marked.]

...….

However, just as Arthas mustered the resolve to bring the gun to his temple, to pull the trigger, to end it all, a sudden crimson glow penetrated through the heavy drapes.

In an instant, everything erupted. The room, the house, - engulfed in a violent conflagration.

The searing flames of the explosion reached out, their fiery tendrils grasping at him.

Yet, strangely, he did not feel pain.

Instead, he felt their touch, akin to the gentle grip of a thousand fingers upon a colossal hand. The flames twisted unnaturally, their fiery branches reaching toward his suspended form.

And then, as if to reclaim all that was, darkness engulfed everything.

His weary eyes closed, surrendering to the darkness.

* * * * *

Arthas eyelids fluttered as he tried to pry open his eyes but couldn't. It was as if they became heavy.

When he was finally able to lift his heavy lids and open his eyes, there was nothing but darkness. He seemed trapped in a void, a lonely and dark abyss with no one else around.

'Huh, what is this place? Did I survive? Or did I die? Am I in a casket or something? Or am I under the rubble? Did I just got buried, alive'

Countless thoughts and questions raced through his mind, all in a span of a few seconds. But there was no one around him to answer his questions. So he waited.

Yet, as time passed, his mind inexorably returned to the harrowing events of an hour ago.

The memories surged like a relentless tide, no matter how he tried to divert his focus. The pain and anguish were too raw, and the last thing he desired was to dwell on the tragic past while trapped in this obscure place.

So he waited. Again. He had no idea how long he stayed like that, waiting for something, and yet, nothing at the same time.

He couldn't even remember if he'd drifted off to sleep at some point. In this dark, hollow world, it was difficult to keep track of time.

Then, it came.

It began with a tiny dot of white – a welcome contrast in the all-black world he was trapped in. It seemed to be moving.

'Oh finally. Am I being saved?'

Relief washed over him.

As it shifted, its size appeared to get bigger and bigger, its shape more and more irregular.

As the dot grew larger and more irregular in shape, it spiraled closer at great speed. Arthas watched cautiously, crossing his arms in front of him, preparing for the impact.

The dot exploded into brilliance, engulfing him in light.

And so, the scenery shifted, ushering Arthas into a new and eerie sight.

A desolate land plagued with blight lay before him, and within it, countless people - men and women - draped in white garments formed a somber procession, steadily advancing in a line.

And at the end of each line, more people in white would suddenly appear.

Some of these white-dressed people would shake their heads and sigh. Some would weep. Some would brag and curse. Some would stare in astonishment.

Arthas had never seen anything like those, and so, he stared at them curiously and watched. He noticed then that they were also drifting in the direction where he was heading. It was as if all of them were being pulled by an invisible force.

'What in the world is this place? And why am I being drawn forward?'

Arthas muttered in bewilderment. Attempting to resist the pull proved futile; it was as if he had relinquished all control over his own body.

'Could this be the afterlife? Am I truly dead?'

After an arduous contemplation, this was the only conclusion he could draw.

However, if this was indeed the afterlife, where was his daughter? And that whore? And that bastard? He failed to find any semblance of them amidst the procession. It had been quite some time since he began walking.

'So, did they not come here? Then, am I given some special punishment? Why?'

He tried opening his mouth, to speak, to ask someone where this place was. But it was once again a failure.

Everywhere he looked were expressionless people, just like him, that behaved uniformly without any personality. Despite his repeated attempts to search for a familiar face, he found no one he knew among the throng.

As they continued for who knows how long, he was finally able to see his destination.

Finally, he beheld his destination – a grand castle standing resolute.

The procession of people or 'souls' continued, and soon made their way into the castle, Arthas included.

He noticed that Knights adorned in gleaming armor stood guard throughout the hallways, vigilant sentinels stationed near every door and entrance.

Despite such a large procession of people moving in front of them, they remained unfazed, paying it no heed, which showed they were used to such happenings.

Arthas forged ahead, drawn by an unseen force, until an imposing door materialized at the hallway's end. A profound aura of ancient divinity emanated from it, perceptible to those attuned to such energies. He craned his neck to observe as nearly all the souls crossed the threshold, entering the gate beyond.

In due time, the moment approached when it would be his turn to cross the door.

A torrent of thoughts flooded his mind. Would he find himself in the fabled paradise of Heaven, as the earthly priests had preached? Or would he suffer a dreadful fate in the dark pits of Hell?

Thinking to himself, he stepped forward into the door, and in an instant, he vanished, consumed by a brilliant golden light that engulfed his very being.

Overwhelmed, he shielded his eyes against the dazzling radiance, momentarily robbed of sight.

Gradually, the glare subsided and when he was able to focus again, he was surprised to find himself standing in a dimly illuminated chamber, greeted by the presence of an enigmatic elderly figure seated before him.

"Welcome! I have been awaiting your arrival," spoke the old man with an air of knowing.

It feels good to be back.

They say - the only way to improve as a writer is to read and write, and read and write, and repeat the same. And that's what I have been doing.

I hope you do like the story.

Don't forget to add it to your library and if possible, shower me with your love in form of comments and PowerStones.

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