The Absolution

CHAPTER I:

Death is Just the Beginning:

A lone torch, fastened high upon a rotted wooded beam, provided the only source of light in an otherwise dark hallway. Its red glow, diffusing almost evenly with the surrounding dungeon, was then broken by the shroud of a hooded figure. Slowly yet deliberately, this form moved to the end of the hall, descending a rotted stairwell that it knew led to the castle's prison.

Two lightly armored guards waited at the bottom of the stairwell, flanked by a large metal door that led directly into the prisons themselves. One of them was fast asleep; the other, however, saw the figure approaching. Nudging the other guard awake, he quickly stood up, prepared to halt the encroaching being.

"You are not permitted to be here," the guard spoke. The hooded figure could tell that both guards appeared to be quite nervous. Excellent.

"Stop!" the other guard ordered. No... pleaded....

The hooded figure nonetheless continued towards them, speaking not a word in reply. The guard that had been asleep was the first to try and strike - but to no avail. His sword cleaved not living flesh, but thin air, and the cloak wrapped around it before finding its death grip on the guard himself.

Through death, the guard would become one with The Shroud, helping to energize the pit where his soul ought to be. The sensation could not be described in words. Ritualistically, the tattered cloak first wrapped around the guards neck, constricting his breathing. Then, rippling between the guard's skin and muscle tissue, bursting through his insides, the guard could only attempt to scream in agony before being fully consumed by the dark tangle. Shattered bones and bloody remains then fell to the earth. The consumption was complete.

The first guard had witnessed all of this, and was too paralysed with fear to fight or run away - he simply stared. He payed for his insolence with his life, in an even more lengthy, gruesome fate.

The figure then approached the large metal door that stood between him and his goal. Neither guard had the key, but that was hardly a problem; it took but a motion to seep his form through the door's minuscule cracks. Once again whole on the other side, The Shroud then realized just how close to his goal he had become. Was it to regain his humanity? Attain status? Acquire Immortality, even? No, it was even better than these things combined.

For hidden beyond the prison, unknown to most, was an enclave of guardian spirits, who guarded a relic said to bestow upon its user the ultimate power.

----------

The morning sun basked Cross Castle in a surreal glow; it had been awhile since the kingdom saw a nice day. Princess Kayla walked along gently through the castle garden, thankful for the approach of springtime. The buds on the trees had already sprouted, the flowers already blooming. She was lost in the beauty, a rare reward during these wretched times.

"Kayla!? Kayla milady!" This was the voice of a chambermaid. "Breakfast is ready!"

Breakfast, so soon? "Oh my, I totally forgot!"

Trotting as fast as her blue skirts would allow, she quickly greeted the fellow maids and guards as she made her way to the castle's inner sanctum. Her smooth brown hair whipped in her eyes, she didn't bother to put it back in a pony tail this morning. Finally reaching a pair of iron doors, Kayla hesitated before pushing her way through; as she expected, the King was already seated at the giant dining table that resided within. This was her stepfather, King Clother T. Cross.

"Ah, Kayla, lovely morning, isn't it? No doubt you've noticed."

"Yes father," Kayla replied. "I just came from the gardens; it's been so long since I've seen such a beautiful day."

Well, he wasn't really her father. Kayla was really from the continent of El, driven away from her homeland thanks to the Sorcery Globe incident. The Hierarchy had been destroyed, Kayla the Princess now an orphan. Soldiers on mop-up duty rescued her from the sewer she hid in for two-odd weeks. Recognizing her as royalty, they took her in to live within the protected confines of Cross. And here she was still, four years later.

"Days like today are a rarity as of late." Clother continued. "As you know, these times have been rather trying upon my heart. Within the past decade, both flood and famine has wrought hard times upon these lands. Days like today might very well be my last; I fear that I do not have much time left."

They've had this talk before. Clother's health had been failing, despite his relatively young age. These were only minor ailments; she was sure the King had much time to live still left.

"It is up to you to continue in my footsteps. Find somebody to marry, to watch over you, for my own health is failing. Though I do not wish for you to marry one whom you do not desire, the importance of finding somebody cannot be denied. Your mother would have been proud...."

Kayla knew that she would someday have to serve the people of Cross. This was a task that she did not feel ready for, and had little desire to carry out. But what could she do about it? The welfare of the entire nation depended on the perseverance of the Hierarchy. Her mother, Queen Celine, had gone missing long ago while on a routine treasure hunt - with Clother gone she would indeed be alone.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence. Without uttering another word, Kayla rose from her seat and left the sanctum, only sparing a single glance back. As Clother wondered if he had been too stressful on her, another figure entered the very doors that Kayla exited through. Adorned in white robes and spiritual crests, he was Cross's leading Heraldic user. And he was Clother's best friend.

This man was known as Petrus, and to show up at this time signified that something important has transpired.

"Sometimes I feel that I expect too much responsibility from my daughter," Clother began. "She is but a child after all. What brings you here, Petrus?"

"I arrive with urgent news! There is no easy way for me to tell you this, but the Crest of Souls has been stolen!"

"What!? How!?" King Clother was exasperated. "Impossible!"

"Calm down," Petrus pleased, "Somebody might hear. Come, we'll investigate the matter personally."

"How did you find out?"

"I've felt its power being accessed," Petrus responded. "No doubt that somebody with tremendous power has attained the artifact, and has already put it to their own whimsical uses."

Clother was at a loss of words. If the Crest of Souls was indeed missing, there's no telling what evil might befall the world. Nobody besides Petrus and himself were even supposed to know that it resided beneath Evermore Castle; there's no doubt that whoever stole it already wielded tremendous power.

As Petrus and the King retreated from the sanctum, neither noticed the relatively small figure behind the door, listening in on their endeavours.

----------

The castle prison was a depressing, dreary place, the perfect spot to discourage people from discovering the secret enclave accessible only through here – that is, until now. Wet, cold, and damp, one who did not have knowledge of the layout would surely die if allowed to roam free from their cell. As it was, most dungeon cells were filled with nothing but rotted skeletons, and an unlucky few living captives had them as their only companions.

The unusual sight, though, was the presence of what used to be guards and overseers strewn about the lair. Mangled, mutilated bodies, dripping blood unto the hard stone floor below provided a stench unlike both Reinor and Petrus had ever experienced.

King Clother then noticed a lone prisoner, huddled into the corner of a cell. In his heyday he had been a feared murderer; what force could have possibly changed this man into the figure that now huddled before him?

Slowly, the prisoner looked up at the King, fear in his eyes. "It... came for us."

"What came?"

Closing his eyes, the prisoner uttered a few words in silence, shaking the whole time, until managing to say only one word:

"Death."

Before Clother or Petrus could utter another word, the prisoner ceased all motion. He was dead.

"By the Gods... what is going on here!?" Clother was getting nervous; he even drew his sword. "Petrus, ready your incantation so we can access the secret cavern. Quickly!"

The dead prisoner's eyes were locked into Clother's. He could bear to look into them no longer. As the two left the cell to traverse even deeper, Clother could've sworn that he felt the prisoner still staring at them....

After awhile the two arrived at what almost looked like an underground crypt. This was the spot where Petrus could use his spell to access the legendary Cavern of Souls. King Clother wondered what might have befallen the spirits if the artifact they protected was indeed gone.

"Oh great one, grant us access to your abode. Let us pass to pay our respects. And may your Seraphs protect and guide us as we did to they."

With that, a blinding light – an ethereal glow – then encompassed the two. Within seconds the light became so blinding that sight was impossible. As fast as it came, though, the light dissipated, and the duo found themselves inside what was The Cavern of Souls itself.

The chamber was indeed a spectacle to behold. Crystalline surfaces basked the cavern walls in a soft, azure glow. Central supports of colossal proportions were adjoined to an inverted pedestal jutting from the ceiling. From the apex of this dais was the location of where the Stone of Souls itself used to be; it seemed to be gone after all, along with whoever had taken it.

"I had hoped it to be untrue," the King admitted, "But I am afraid this disaster is all too real."

"Who or whatever was able to attain the artifact somehow knew of the secrets of Evermore castle prior to the breach; the enclave, the guardian spirits, everything," Petrus began, trying to calm Clother into thinking clearly. "Though I cannot feel the presence of the guardians. It seems that they have been destroyed after all."

"They had been my friends, Petrus. In life, they were more to me than just members of The Knighthood of Tria. Upon their deaths, I wished not to let go of them, and the secret of Cross Castle let me hold on to that wish... you remember my requests to come down here in secret. But it seems they have slipped away from me after all."

"We all have to let go sometime, Clother. They were my friends as well. You blame yourself for their initial deaths; remember that it was not your fault. The Knighthood was meant to be broken."

"Yeah, yeah, it was that traitor within our own ranks... that... Necros character. But I was blind, Petrus. I inaugurated him without thinking of the possible consequences of my decision. Necros was one of the best swordsman out there, a lot like Dias. But he had his own agendas. I was blind because I wanted his power... I was just as bad as he was."

"Clother, don't say that! It was his arrogance and greed that led to the deaths of our fellows. Just because you wanted to utilize his power doesn't make you evil! You wished to use his power to do good; it was he that came to lust for his own glory! There was no way you could have foretold his plight. Besides, he's dead now; his omnipotence is no longer a threat!"

"You don't know that, Petrus! We never did find his body. What if he came back for me? For Kayla?"

"What!? That's preposterous! You're thinking that he's the culprit? He had never even known an inkling of Heraldry, there's no way he could have gotten in here! What we must do now is focus on the task at hand. How, Clother, do you plan on facing this situation?"

"You're right," Clother finally gave in. "Kayla and the rest of the Kingdom are still in danger. We must put the castle on high alert. The prisoner referred to whatever came through as 'Death.' Maybe this signifies a hooded figure?"

"He could have shed his disguise by now," Petrus suggested. "Though you are right to think that he might still be lingering around. He hasn't accessed the Crest of Souls for awhile now; if close enough, the surge would allow me to tell where he is."

"That settles it, then. The castle will be under complete lockdown... nobody goes in or out. Ever."

----------

From atop a lofty tower, Princess Kayla looked down upon the city surrounding the castle. How she longed to be able to spend just one day milling about as a commoner, mingling with the neighbourhood kids. Or, better yet, travelling the world. Evermore was a vast kingdom, yes, but her duties as future Queen kept her stuck here. Why was her father so overprotective of her anyway? What was the harm of getting out once and a while?

Not only that, but he was secretive as well. Only by luck was she able to hear an inkling of conversation between her father and the Heraldic Master. They seemed really worried over some family heirloom, a stone it must've been. She couldn't recall that well, for it was hard to hear through the large, wood and metal doors separating her from the sanctum where the two conversed. Do they think that she'd steal it or something? What was the big deal anyway?

Letting out a sigh, Kayla plopped down on her plush, rose-coloured bed. From this position, she could now focus on the view past the city of Evermore. Her gaze first met The Great Road, the main exit from the city into the surrounding world. This grand path connected Cross with its various towns; among which where the mining town of Salva and the heraldic Village of Mars. She then looked even further away, at The Lasguss Mountains. Said to grasp the Heavens themselves, few have been said to ever reach their summit.

Looking Eastward, Kayla gazed upon The heraldry Forest, home of immense magical power. Within the past decade, though, the place has been overrun by dark spirits who could not find their way to heaven. Such a place was no-man's land, for none have ever returned alive since then.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knocking on her bedroom door; opening it up revealed a duo of warriors, each spectacular in his own way. Mercenaries hired by the King they were; Kayla knew of the end of the elite Knighthood of Tria.

The mercenary on the left was tall, with dark blue hair and serious demeanor in his stare. His sword was sheathed, though Kayla assessed that it could be unsheathed in any millisecond of the warrior's choosing.

The other mercenary was even more of a sight to behold, though not as imposing in his own right. A pair of short swords hung at his sides, yet that was not the only pair of things coming from him. Large tendrils of flesh, maroon and turquoise, stretched from his shoulders and ended in inhuman faces! This is what made him amazing.

She's heard of this second man, actually, so the surprise wasn't nearly as great. It was enough, however, to warrant a concern as to why they were stationed outside of her room in the first place.

"What's going on here????" Kayla wondered.

The larger of the two people, the one on Kayla's left, spoke first. "King Clother had ordered the castle into complete lockdown; nobody is to go in or out."

"What!? Why?"

It was the other one, the one with the symbiotes, that responded. "Something of great value has been stolen from the treasury. The thief is thought to still be hiding inside this castle. Specifically, the King wishes for you to remain in your room."

What luck. Kayla couldn't even roam around the castle, let alone the world. Was this some sort of punishment? Maybe her father thought she was the thief, and these mercenaries were keeping her prisoner in her own room?

"Sorry to inconvenience you, milady, but it's for your own good." With that, the brown-haired one on her right closed the wooden door; both still stood outside of her room.

Enough is enough, Kayla thought. Things were going to change here and now. She paced around her tower, in deep thought. Her eye caught a bunch of tousled bed sheets in the corner of her room; looking towards her window, she then thought of the impossible.

If there was one thing that Kayla thought herself good at, it was tying knots. One of the castle chambermaids had taught her the trade in her spare time. Monkey knots, pillow knots, any knot had become a simple task for Kayla to accomplish. This would be a unique challenge, however; unique obstacles were present in this occasion. Most importantly, her life would be on the line; she planned on climbing down her creation from her window.

An hour later, after assembling the sheets together in a rope-like fashion, Kayla tied one end securely to her bed. She took one last breath before throwing the other end out her window. It was now or never. Kayla only hoped that nobody spotted her as she descended into the world below.

She should have hoped for other wishes. As a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, so too is a knotted rope of sheets. Kayla had no idea what happened until she was already plunging.

"Oh my god oh my god!" she panicked. It can't end this way!

The ground was fast approaching. Her life flashing before her, Kayla closed her eyes to keep from seeing the fast approach of the hard ground below....

----------

Darkness was fast approaching. King Clother wondered if he had in fact did the right thing by keeping Kayla barged in her own room. As he sat on his large, golden throne he observed the guards around the room that he himself had stationed there. The room was unusually silent despite the dozens of soldiers within; normal times saw more noise despite the fact that there were usually less guards present. This was the result of these trying times, no doubt.

The silence was broken by the entrance of none other than Petrus, along with the two mercenaries that were supposed to be guarding Kayla's room.

"What's going on here?" Reinor wondered. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Excuse our presence, milord, but Princess Kayla has gone missing."

The King nearly fell out of his chair upon hearing those words. Petrus wondered if he would suffer another heart attack.

"These two told me that she did not exit through the door to her room," Petrus continued. "She must've found another way out, though we could find no clues as to how she escaped."

"By the Gods, you guys had better be telling the truth," Reinor replied. "I grant you three permission to leave the castle. But know this: if I find that any of you are lying or assisted in setting Kayla free in any way, you will be tried for treason and your head will be mounted on my wall! Understood!?"

"Reinor, calm down, you're not yourself!"

"That was a direct order, Petrus!"

"... We will see to it that she is found safe and sound, milord. Come, fellows."

The three left through the main door with haste. The King regained his composure for a bit, only to break down in tears. In one day he had lost two things that were of great importance to him, and still with no idea as to how they could have been taken from right under his nose.

"Curse this world! Curse everything! Why, Tria, did you do this to me? After my years of servitude to my nation, WHY!!!!????"

It was getting cold. Clother could use a sip of ale to calm his senses. By Tria, maybe he was already older than he thought. However, the chill became too great, and the remaining guards throughout the chamber seemed to look on with indifference. Was this some sort of joke?

Clother then felt dizzy, for the shadows of the ceiling seemed to dance in his mind. The sensation became more intense, though, and that's when Reinor realized that something was terribly wrong....

The shadow descended onto the carpet just in front of Clother's throne. He couldn't tell, but it seemed to be bowing.

"And my majesty awaits." Its voice was the coldness of Death itself, and Reinor wondered if it was here for him.

"Guards, don't just stand there, attack it!"

"They won't obey your order, for their souls belong to me now. My powers have grown significantly since I found your precious trinket. I can once again speak. Come to think of it, you never let me speak my mind much in life, have you Reinor?"

"It was you who stole it! Who are you?"

"What's the matter, you don't remember me, Clother? You tried to have me executed."

No, it couldn't be! "Necros...."

"You're rule has always been questionable, Clother. Why did you keep the artifact secret? You could have been number one. But instead you let the land slip into hardship, you were an unfit King. I could have helped to rebuild the land, but you, Clother, approach the world with such a closed mind. You'd have it no other way than your own."

"I only wanted to protect my nation from the danger the Crest of Souls represented!"

"You only lied to your nation. You lied to your stepdaughter, too. For years she had wanted to break free from your incessant control, just like all of us. But she got that wish. She jumped out the window. You are a liar; you are a coward. And you are a murderer. Perhaps you'd like to see your daughter's mangled form before I slowly eviscerate you... I have the power to show you. I have all the power now."

The King could take no more of this. He wished not to give in to this monster's depravity. Rummaging through his robes, Clother found a dagger that would be just right to slit his own throat.

"Fool!" Necros echoed, as the dagger Clother held became too hot for him to hold.

"What did you do!?" Clother screamed in agony; skin from his right hand had been baked right off.

"Running away never solved anything," Necros replied. "You will not escape your past that easily. Embrace your mistakes. He who can control souls can control fate... embrace your new GOD, Clother; begin by begging for forgiveness and letting me purify your soul. I will teach you everything there is. I will teach you pain, I will teach you suffering. And it will be a long, HARD lesson indeed. For Death is just the Beginning...."