Dark ancester: Lord Varek

The world was still, save for the flashing of candlelight that moved across the old stone walls. The air was thick with incense, its smoke twisting apathetically towards the high roof. Eric Thorne's eyes rippled open, and he ended up lying in a new bed. His heart beat with disarray and confusion.

The room around him was both fantastic and premonition. Dark curtains swung from the windows, and dull embroidered works of art embellished the walls, portraying scenes of hidden customs and fights long past. As he sat up, he felt the heaviness of weighty, dim robes hung over his body. His fingers followed the elaborate plans weaved into the texture.

"What... where am I?" Eric mumbled, his voice repeating delicately in the faint chamber.

He swung his legs past the brink of the bed and stood temperamentally, attempting to get his direction. The cool stone floor felt strong underneath his feet, establishing him in this weird new reality. His appearance in a close by reflect uncovered a tall, forcing figure with sharp highlights and eyes that gleamed with a frightful light. He was no longer Eric Thorne except for had become Ruler Varek, a name saturated with dim legend.

A thump at the entryway ended the quietness, and a figure shrouded in shadow entered. The figure's face was clouded, however its eyes shined with a disrupting iridescence.

"My Ruler," the figure articulated, bowing profoundly. "The arrangements for your return are finished. The supporters anticipate your order."

Eric concentrated on the figure, a feeling of disquiet crawling over him. "Followers?" he asked, his voice steadying. "Your meaning could be a little more obvious."

The figure fixed, uncovering itself as Sirus, Eric's most confided in lieutenant. "Indeed, My Ruler. During your nonattendance, we have assembled the people who put stock in your vision. They anticipate your orders to reestablish your impact and recover what was lost."

Eric's psyche hustled. He recollected his previous lifestyle — the battles, the disappointments, the unfulfilled desires. Presently, renewed as Ruler Varek, he got an opportunity to hold onto the power he had consistently wanted. "Great, Sirus," he said, his voice acquiring strength. "Assemble them. I want to grasp the full extent of our circumstance."

Sirus gestured and left the room. Eric started to investigate the fortification, taking in the degree of the harm and rot. When an image of dull power, it presently lay in ruin. The passages were shrouded in dust, and the once-fabulous lobbies were vacant and quiet.

As he meandered, he coincidentally found a secret chamber, its entry hidden by an embroidery. The room inside was loaded up with relics of dim enchantment — old books, peculiar curios, and a huge, throbbing dim gem.

Eric moved toward the precious stone, feeling an illogical force. His fingers brushed against its surface, and a flood of dull energy coursed through him. The gem answered his touch, enhancing his all around considerable powers.

"This will be helpful," Eric shared with himself, a decided glimmer in his eyes. "With this, I can start to reconstruct our solidarity."

His dream was intruded on by the arrival of Sirus, who carried a few devotees with him. They were a diverse gathering — fighters, mages, and spies, all unified by their devotion to Varek.

"My Ruler," Sirus said, "permit me to present your most steadfast devotees. They are anxious to serve you and help in your arrangements."

Eric overviewed the gathering, giving the thumbs up. "Welcome. I believe that all of you figure out the weightiness of our circumstance. We should remake our power and strike quickly against the people who have taken what is legitimately our own."

A tall fighter ventured forward. "Ruler Varek, we are prepared to follow your order. What are your orders?"

Eric thought about the inquiry, devising a game plan. "To begin with, we really want to merge our headquarters. Support the stronghold and secure our situation. We should likewise assemble knowledge on the present status of the domain and distinguish our adversaries."

Another supporter, a dim robed mage, shouted out. "My Master, the Board of Light is reputed to examine aggravations in the northern areas. They may before long turn their consideration towards us."

Eric's eyes restricted. "The legends, then. We should plan for their impedance. Increment our guards and guarantee that our otherworldly wards are at their original capacity."

The devotees spread to do their undertakings, abandoning Eric with Sirus. The two remained in the faintly lit chamber, the heaviness of their obligations obvious in their appearances.

"Sirus," Eric said, his voice low, "what could you at any point enlighten me concerning the present status of Eldoria? What has unfolded during my nonattendance?"

Sirus checked out at him with a combination of regard and dread. "Much has changed, My Ruler. The Board of Light has reinforced its hold over the domain, and a few realms have joined against any type of dim sorcery. The legends you once struggled are presently celebrated as guardian angels."

Eric's lips twisted into a weak grin. "It appears we have a lot of work to do. Be that as it may, with our power and their egotism, we can reverse the situation in support of ourselves."

Sirus gestured, his demeanor steadfast. "Without a doubt, My Ruler. I will guarantee that our arrangements are executed faultlessly."

As the days transformed into weeks, Eric's impact started to develop. The bastion was reestablished to its previous greatness, and the dim gem's power injected his wizardry with phenomenal strength. His supporters worked resolutely, revamping their positions and getting ready for the difficulties ahead.

The legends of Eldoria, in the mean time, were starting to pay heed. The Committee of Light had dispatched scouts to explore the rising reports of dull sorcery radiating from the bastion. The pressure between the powers of light and haziness was obvious, making way for an inescapable conflict.

Eric, presently solidly settled as Master Varek, remained on the gallery of his fortress, looking out at the domain he expected to overwhelm. The breeze murmured through the obscured halls, conveying with it the commitment of victory and the excitement of looming fights.

"The time is moving close," Eric shared with himself, his voice a low mumble. "Before long, Eldoria will know the genuine force of murkiness."

As he got some distance from the gallery, he felt a flood of expectation. The way forward was full of difficulties, yet with his recently discovered power and relentless determination, he was ready to confront whatever came straightaway.