1 Chapter 1- Repudiation
Amidst the frosty shade, underneath the grand velvety astral and the gloriousness of the moon, providing a little bit whiff of light in the darkness. The dark sky is calmly serenading with the murky mist of night with thunderclaps to the ground, shaking the Kingdom of Artheiaya as its people, Artheians, slumber without any clue of what might happen as they slowly infuriate the Serpent God, Glyvecaruis.
Whirlpools ensued, making trees writhe and flail as if dancing by distress; grieving for the leaves as green and full-of-life get forcefully carried away by the wind and branches skidding off of their trunks; dancing with the surges of the storm. Rain hammered the muddy ground, and lightning strikes the deserted regions of the Artheiaya. Clouds form a fearsome resemblance reared up like a serpent readying itself to attack and like its nature, spat a thunder lighting fire on the most massive tree in the Kingdom, burning it and even with the wind and the rain continuing the surge and drop, the fire never extinguish, nor it diminishes.
Just meters away, the very center of the Kingdom situates the Syrinhe Temple of Artheiaya. The Syrinhe Temple has a unique curving roof, illuminating a half-moon facing down as straight, sturdy posts hold the top with the carving of seemed to be scales of a serpent accentuating the building. Bricks covered the floor, which leads to the main hall of the Temple. Inside are several rooms of apprentices of Syrinhe, and the last place at the end is the resting room of the Priest Vueyvc Bugh Overmiere. At this moment, no one knew that Priest Overmiere started being succumbed to vast darkness, slowly swallowing his entire being as exhaustion surrounded his body. He felt his feet rooted on the ground as the haze clears and a familiar hall appeared in front of him. The lobby is enormous and a little deserted as only the walls decorated with statues of a serpent is there combine with stained glass windows arranged to form the very first ancestor with a snake-like crown on his head. He felt chills as he stares at the image; this was the receiving hall of Artheiaya before. When the rulers shifted, everything was discarded and renovated. The serpent statues were substituted by figures of unknown soldiers wearing the armors of the Artheian Warriors, and the stained glass was removed and was reinstated by a painting of the royal family. After decades of the reign of the royal family, many things were altered. The Kingdom of Artheiaya rehabilitated itself, beautifying many places resulting in a storm of tourists coming in. Probably, the only place that the royal family cannot touch is the Syrinhe Temple, where the Glyvecaruis God is still placed.
The royal family always listens to the Artheians. The people wanted to go away from the old traditions, and by doing so, they tried to forget about everything, even the God that used to help the Artheiaya. The people didn't believe in the stories inscribed on the religious books; they question whether the miracles that happened is genuine and not fabricated. Only Priest Overmiere holds onto the old tradition as the new beliefs also influence even the apprentices. Priest Overmiere continues to stare at the Glyvecaruis God. It's been a while since he saw this image. His eyesight travels down to see the throne of the King. This is the new throne, made up of gold with fancy carvings as an accent. Then, he saw the crown on the throne chair, which is also the current crown. He doesn't know what does this means? A combination of two traditions is that what the Glyvecaruis God wants to_.
He abruptly felt a robust embrittling presence behind him. His heartbeat quickens harshly as if wanting to rip away out of his chest. Every muscle froze, and an uncontrollable whimper went out of his mouth. Fear is inevitable, particularly to the unknown. Still, Priest Overmiere acknowledges that fear is tremendous when you know what is coming and don't know what it is. Adrenaline floods his system; his heart might explode as his eyes widen with fear. He wants to run away from this place as the pressure leaps out, and there he saw something slowly wriggling and dancing its way to the throne. He cannot even look sideways; only his eyes move to places. His adrenaline surges high up as he recognizes it-- Glyvecaruis God. He could feel his throat hurting as he swallows his fear, and beads of sweat trickle down his forehead. This is the only time the Glyvecaruis God contacted him; he must understand everything it wanted to tell him.
Glyvecaruis God has an elongated body swaying around, yet it is small, but for some reason, he felt that because of this, it is more venomous. It continues to crawl itself, getting up steps by steps to the stairs just a meter away from the throne. As it reaches the throne and crawls on it, it looks back on him and fixes its eyes on him for seconds before smashing the crown to the ground. Glyvecaruis leaps on it, bitting, and for some reason, the crown bleeds. Blood spurts as the Glyvecaruis God continue ripping it and using its body to lurk in all edges, causing some precious stones to fall out of it. Priest Overmiere felt his body reaching out to get the crown, but the Glyvecaruis gaze at him, stopping its activities as if daring him to come near it. He felt himself stopping from moving. His breathe stops with it as they examine each other. Then, as its green eyes light on him, it uses its body to destroy the crown finally. Leaving only fragments of stones now be nothing but wastes.
His body suddenly got carried up as he continues staring at its eyes, then he abruptly wakes himself up. Heavily breathing, he let himself up and look towards the table beside his bed; there, a reminder of tomorrow's event is placed. As rain is still trickling continuously outside and thunder lightning are still resounding the Kingdom, Priest Overmiere understands the clear message of Glyvecaruis God; it is opposing the ceremony tomorrow.
The night fades as the sky lightens but still, no sun sheds some warmness on the Kingdom of Artheiaya. The streets of the capital, Solaris, are bustling with people happy for this day's event, unaware of what's happening behind the walls.
"Nonsense! Are you telling me not to accept the throne? Priest Overmiere, do you know what you're speaking about?" An audible shout surrounded the receiving hall of the palace where Priest Overmiere is in kneeling in front of the throne. Besides, it is the Crown Prince Rutherglen Heath Windthroap, while the throne is empty as the old King is significantly ill and couldn't attend to his subjects at the moment. The Crown Prince is infuriated as Priest Overmiere just decided to call his crowning ceremony off because of some nonsensical dreams about his God.
"Your Highness, I understand your disagreement; nonetheless, the God has spoken," Priest Overmiere clarifies himself.
"Rubbish! This is the day that I am preordained to become the King of this Kingdom. Priest Overmiere, if I don't know you, I would take it that you have something against this Crown Prince." This is enraging the Crown Prince; Priest Overmiere has always been opposed to anything he inclines toward. He is thinking that maybe the priest is co-operating with another prince to actually out throne him.
"How could this subject have such thoughts, Your Highness. This subject truly dreamed of the Glyvecaruis God and sent a message. Believe in me, Your Highness, this is a warning from God," the priest cries.
He let his thoughts be heard as he said, "you've always been saying that. Ever since we started taking over the Kingdom, you've opposed many of our undertakings. Do you retaliate to the royal family?"
"I pledge to the Glyvecaruis God that I've never had any thoughts, Your Highness. This subject only wants your royal family and the Artheians' safety," but the priest is persisting on his assertions.
"Then, if you truly wanted our safety, believe in me that I have to get crowned. A Kingdom without a King will go down in just a minute after that; no Gods could help us. You're dismissed." The Crown Prince Rutherglen Heath Windthroap is calmly dismissing him.
