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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 · Fantaisie
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475 Chs

Ironstone

The other three approached with heavy steps. Dakran looked over his shoulder one more time.

" We need to make our way to the mountain and regroup! This has never happened before!" Dakran worriedly said as he approached them.

" I gathered as much! We need to go to the source! We can fight all we want.." Iris paused for a moment and looked at Ian " This is my burden to bear!" her voice broke, and she gulped. Ian grew woeful and closed his eyes.

" I'm coming with you!" he brooked and opened his eyes " I'm not letting you go alone!" he kissed her sticky forehead " If we die, at least We should die in each other's arms!" his voice faltered and faded at the end. The pain in his eyes was something she had never seen in Ian. Losing him would have meant a life of longing and agony, yearning for him. She could only imagine that he felt the same way about her.

Iris nodded " Tomorrow at the break of dawn!" she sullenly said and placed her hand on his back.

" Come! We should have some rest!" she urged, and they began walking toward the flickering lights.

" So, now that you've seen what we are dealing with ", Dakran paused for a moment, swinging his sword in the air " What do you make of it?" he asked, scraping the ground with his sword.

"I think I was right, and Arkathira is causing the veil in-between realms to collapse. If we don't stop it soon, we are all going to merrily share your home with all sorts of different beasts and creatures or worse!" she said in a pensive tone of voice, looking ahead.

" That doesn't sound good!" Dakran turned to look at her, but she couldn't take her eyes off the mountain.

The closer they got, Dakran's home, as he called it, became clearer. It was carved inside a mountain. The size was impressive, with large arches and columns, with balconies on the face of the mountain. No bricks or blocks of stone. The build was seamless.

" Did your ancestors use magic?" Iris broke the heavy silence, and Dakran looked at her, a little surprised at the question.

" No !" He sighed " I come from a long line of miners. My forefathers carved our home into this mountain for generations until this came to life !" he pointed at the mountain " Ironstone is the name of my home. It is named that way because the mountain is all just a big boulder made out of it. Not easy to carve but durable, the creatures had tried to attack it, but now they just avoid it. They don't seem to like ironstone. That's why it is the only thing still standing!" he finished speaking proudly, looking at the last beacon of hope left for furlongs.

The walls of Ironstone, as Dakran called it, stood tall, with rugged, sharp edges. Unlike the columns and the rest of Ironstone, the walls weren't smooth. Dips and shallow crevices scarred the surface all the way around. The gate was made out of ironstone. These people liked their stone so much that they used it for everything.

" Maras, open the gate!" Dakran shouted, looking up at the wall, but nothing was there.

" The guard posts are built within the walls! You can't see them, but they can see you!" he informed, and the sound of stone rubbing turned their attention to the large gate.

" Lord Vamadar!" Maras bowed, and Dakran waved him off.

" I thought I told you to stop calling me that!" he scolded the young man.

As they stepped through the gate, the view of Dakran's home was clearer, torches hung on the stone walls, and the yard, as everything else, was paved with the same stone. The house, one could bearly call that a house, stood three stories tall. With three main entrances, on top of which laid balconies and terraces that provided a view of what once was Gaerwen.

" Follow me !" Dakran waved, interrupting their gaping at the impressive build.

Climbing the steps to the middle entrance, they were greeted by an elderly woman who bowed and smiled " Welcome home, milord!" she greeted him, but he couldn't be bothered.

" Asign guest chambers to my guests! Where is the girl with the red hair?" he hurriedly asked, and the woman gave him a wry smile and shrugged.

" She is somewhere in Ironstone milord! She refused to stay put!" the woman bowed again and looked at them suspiciously.

" Sala! Dakran called, " The chambers!" he reminded the woman that stared at them.

" Yes, milord!" she bowed and turned to them.

" Follow me!" she turned and climbed the steps leading to the first floor.

The first floor of Ironstone was neatly decorated with tapestry and lamps. It wasn't anything special but tasteful. The small windows carved into the mountain allowed little light to come through, but the lamps made up for that.

Sala halted her steps in front of one of the rooms " You can take this one!" she bowed and raised her head to look at Iris and Ian.

" Thank you!" Iris gave Sala a curt nod and opened the door, entering the room with Ian in tow.

" You can have the next two chambers!" Sala pointed two doors down the corridor " Supper will be served shortly! The dining room is to your left!" Sala told at the ground level, bowed again and left.

Athan and Azra looked at Sala retreating " I wonder where the others are?" Azra mumbled and turned to look at Athan.

Athan shrugged " We will find out at supper! For now, let's wash and sleep on a soft bed!" he patted Azra on his shoulder and turned to the corridor.

" Which one do you want? I have a feeling that they're pretty much the same!" Azra halted his steps in front of a black wooden door.

" I'll take the one next to mother and father!" Azra's expression brightened up as he approached the door.

" A decision you will regret soon enough if the walks aren't thick enough!" Athan commented, " I'll see you at supper!" he waved to Azra and made his way to the next chamber