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The Masked Oath

When Casimir's mother was killed before he could even count, his life took a turn for the worst. His early maturity was not a choice and neither was honing his sharp mind especially when being an orphan in an unforgiving world at such an age, was a death sentence. But against whatever odds pitted against him Casimir made it to the age of awakening mostly intact, that is if you chose to ignore his mental capabilities. Despite the early misfortune, his already dark fate would take another defining turn when he would awaken with a dreadful and terrible origin.

Croppedtrolley · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
59 Chs

Old Man

The room now seemed remote from reality, like Casimir was the only thing that existed. He felt the cold on his tongue, saw darkness and heard silence. The ground beneath his feet shook like a machine powering up. Colour all around him drained from reality and everything became black and white within his vision for a moment before he could adjust to it again. His glabella buzzed and he felt strangely burdened as if a chain had been tied to him, binding him to whatever anchor he could not move. Like a noose placed around his neck.

His vision momentarily blurred, went dark and returned almost instantaneously. When it did return however he was no longer in the underground cave system. There was no reason for him to be glad because now he was in a foreign environment. His grip was still on the hilt of Tranquility, his knuckles losing colour because of the strength with which his hand clamped around the bastard sword.

His vision was the last thing to return to him however his aura had already shot forth and imposed itself on the environment. For the first time ever he felt its influence come up against a wall. Something had resisted Its influence. Because of this, his stance changed and he braced himself for conflict. The conflict did not come, or maybe what it resisted his aura was an object of peace.

His vision had finally caught up to the rest of his other senses and he was blown away. Before his eyes, the interior of what he could only assume to be a once glorious and magnificent Temple, lay in spectacularly fashioned ruins. The pillars that once supported a dome of unimaginable beauty now lay shattered across the floor, the remnants of carved stone blocks and sculptures scattered across the rubble. Illuminated by... the morning light? Casimir could make out ancient hieroglyphs, many of them now barely decipherable amid the debris.

He took a few steps forward, transfixed by what was before his eyes. Everywhere he looked, he could see signs of an age long gone, yet somehow still alive in the echo of his own memory. He wanted to weep For such art laid waste too, yet something inside him held back. Instead, he stood still, stunned by the enormity of what lay before him.

"Like what I've done to the place, don't ya?"

This time the voice did not seem to come from all around him but rather just over his shoulder he found the owner of the ugly voice. Before his eyes was an old man. if he placed the bet on what he thought the owner of the voice looked like he would have made quite a fortune, often times stereotypes carried some truth in them this was one such example.

The old man stood tall and thin, with a strong jaw and piercing eyes. His hair was grey and his wrinkles were deep set, but he still presented an imposing presence. A smile adorned his ancient features, yet there was something lurking beneath the surface -- an undeniable power that evoked a sense of danger. He had a mane of thick silver hair and dark eyes which suggested a wisdom beyond his years, as well as an intensity that could only come with experience. His smiling mouth concealed a sharp wit, while his scruffy beard added a hint of wildness to his demeanour. He stood with the grace of someone who had seen much in their life and carried with him the hint of danger beneath his cordial appearance.

The weathered face and deep wrinkles on his skin spoke of a long life. He stood tall and lean, with a stoic expression, highlighted by bright eyes and a stern jawline. His clothing exuded a sense of power, confidence and authority, and a hint of danger beneath his friendly demeanour.

"Did you destroy this place?"

Casimir asked his voice laced with disappointment. He believed that what once was here before the ruins was something that would have been pleasing to see and he would have loved to be witness to such captivating architectural brilliance.

"Me? No child I am not a barbarian... this was done in good 350 years before your arrival"

'350 years!' his mind was shocked and his world rocked.

He knew that some of the current humans walking amongst them were older than they looked and that when one awakened they generally lived longer than normal people but given the old man's appearance and how long he had claimed the place to have been in such a state, Said more about the old man's age than he explicitly stated.

"You are quite lucky there child I did not come closer to this part of the temple you might have died of hunger in a week or two... maybe this is fate."

"What is this place?" Casimir asked.

"This young man is the temple of King Nendagon... and you are trapped just like I and the others come along now I must introduce you to them spin a long time since we've had a visitor maybe visitor has not the right word... ah, right a new companion yes I think that's fine."

"Why am I here?"

"I assume you were dying before you found yourself within that cave system right?"

Casimir didn't answer but the old man continued anyway as if his silence had told him everything he needed to know.

"However because your fate is heavy and your power great, your soul attracted the attention of this mighty place, The essence of the dead king sees something in you that feels you are worthy of the chance to participate in this trial for possibly a heritage."

"What if I did not want to be part of this trial?"

"Well, given where your soul core is I believe you didn't have much of a choice since you were dying already and it must have been near the large river. Usually to enter into this place willingly one must have a core of the third grade at the very least which you do not. So you being here was an interference on reality done by whatever dominion the dead king has."

"Dominion?"

"Did your Clergy not teach you of it, the powers that those mighty amongst us can reach? You have an aura surely you must know what becomes of it when you ascend further?"

A blank look from Casimir brought even more confusion to the old man.

"Right I keep forgetting the world has changed much since I last outside this wretched place...forget what I said. I will answer your questions later come along then."

"Your fable? what is it?" Casimir asked.

"Questions later boy, for now, we have some way to go so follow quietly if you can."

Casimir followed the old man quietly as they weaved through the ruins. He looked ahead to see where it was they were going, there was an exit at the end of the large entrance chamber.

'What a massive temple.'