The Truth - part 3

The dagger was forged from its very soul, its essence shaped and molded by the searing flames of a dragon it had once subjugated. As one might imagine, it prepared it with meticulous care, skillfully concealing the vile essence emanating from within with techniques pilfered from countless sorcerers...and then presented it as a gift to the Children, promising that it would rid them of the pesky humans invading their home. And, much to its satisfaction, the unsuspecting fools took its words as truth...

There might have been some who harbored suspicions and uncertainty, but in the face of the ongoing war with the First Men, they too chose to accept the gift, hoping it would aid them in their struggle.

After 2000 years of vicious war and countless casualties, the flames of hatred inside their wooden husks burned brightly, clouding their judgment and leading them to grasp any hope for victory, no matter how dubious.

They used the dagger on a man they had captured...unwittingly unleashing the monster from its chains and granting it the freedom it sought for so long. The cursed Dagger contained a fragment of its soul and consciousness, the essence untouched by the emotions of hundreds of thousands of souls like the one residing in its main body.

And as such, the Night King was born...

With every step, frost spread beneath his feet, leaving a trail of icy death. His visage was of eternal winter, a harbinger of doom for all who dared oppose him...

Initially, he focused on battling the First Men, following the orders of the Children.

This time, mindful of its original self's past mistakes, The Night King only siphoned minuscule fragments of soul essence from his victims, subsequently twisting them into undead thralls bereft of consciousness.

And naturally, when it deemed itself sufficiently empowered, it turned on the Children, relentlessly hunting them down alongside his undead army...

"The sole reason this world isn't naught but a hollow shell right now is due to the monster's division within itself. By splitting into halves, the primary persona weakened, affording us a window to suppress it. We wasted no time in unveiling the truth to both the Children and the First Men regarding the genuine nature of their foe..."

Thankfully, they set aside their petty squabbles over territory and recognized the greater threat looming before them.

They set aside their age-old conflicts and forged an unprecedented alliance, pooling their resources, knowledge, and military might to combat the dark menace that threatened to engulf the world...

Though the battle was fierce and costly, their determination prevailed, and the Night King was repelled...albeit he was not killed, merely wounded and weakened.

The war was won, and afterward, the Children of the Forest erected a colossal wall to keep the Night King and his undead minions at bay...

And the world was at peace...

If only the story ended there...

The Monster, unfortunately, continued to exist, albeit with its consciousness significantly diminished within its own soul. He had been weakened to a point where we dared to hope that we could finally obliterate him once and for all...

"It turned out to be a mistake..."

We exerted our utmost efforts to suppress him, aiming to eradicate him from existence forever. Yet, akin to the hydra, which sprouts two heads for every one severed, the monster's consciousness only grew stronger with each attempt to diminish it.

He bloomed from our very essence, a stark reminder that we were entwined with it as much as it was with us. It reminded us that In the depths of our being, we were nothing more than monsters in our guise, feigning humanity...

"...yet we persisted in our struggle, unyielding, even as the Monster amassed greater strength...for millennia..."

Until one fateful day, The Monster wrested control of his body back, subduing the six of us simultaneously for a fleeting moment.

"And he made the most of his newfound freedom..."

He soared towards Andalos, the ancestral city of the Andals, his dark silhouette cutting through the sky like a shadowy omen...

...and infiltrated the dreams of their leader.

In the man's dream, it appeared as a seven-faced god, each face unique and captivating. One exuded warmth and maternal comfort, like a gentle embrace offering solace and security. Another bore a stern, fatherly expression, commanding respect and obedience with its authoritative gaze. There was an old, wise visage, its weathered features speaking of centuries of experience and knowledge. A youthful face pulsed with vibrant energy, embodying the vigor and vitality of youth. Then there was a dusty countenance, sparkling with ancient wisdom and the secrets of forgotten ages. And amidst them all, a breathtakingly beautiful maiden, her presence captivating the senses with an irresistible allure.

But it was the largest face, shrouded in darkness beneath a mysterious cowl, that held the dreamer's attention. Though lacking in distinguishable features, it radiated an aura of immense power and authority, hinting at untold mysteries and ancient wisdom waiting to be unveiled.

As the man knelt before this divine apparition, he felt a surge of awe and reverence coursing through his veins. The god spoke to him in a voice that echoed with the weight of ages, promising blessings beyond his wildest dreams. He spoke of faith, urging the man to trust in divine providence. He spoke of riches, promising wealth and prosperity to those who remained faithful. And he spoke of conquest, offering the man the chance to rise to greatness and shape his own destiny.

In the dreamer's mind, the words of the god resounded with an otherworldly allure, stirring his soul with a sense of purpose and ambition. As he awoke from his slumber, he carried with him the lingering echoes of the god's promises, igniting a fire within him...a fire whose flames would burn a whole continent.

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A.N - 

"The vast majority of us are slaves to our minds. Most don't even make the first effort when it comes to mastering their thought process because it's a never-ending chore and impossible to get right every time." - David Goggins

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AN 2 - I decided to finally write another volume alongside this one.

It's called Reverend Insanity - Perpetual Motion