So, uh, welcome to my first fanfic, i don't really have much to say other than enjoy the read and leave some good criticism
Of soul and steel
It was night in the city of Khalingar, snow was falling gently from the sky, as it has since time immemorial.
When one looked up at the night sky, they would see a hole, hole that devoured anything that could venture high enough, all that has ever come out of the unnatural phenomenon, was snow.
Endless, yet ever gentle snow.
There was not a soul out on the snow covered streets, save for the occasional patrol of knights. Were one to look closely, they would see nothing but pure blackness in the slits of their frost covered helmets.
A grand castle sat at the city's edge, at the foot of a mountain, it's highest tower reaching up into the heavens.
like everything else that graced the dark city of Khalingar, this castle had a gothic architecture, to the point where one might mistake it for a cathedral, in this grandest of castles, there were no humans, there were no animals keps as pets, nay, not even rats infesting the kitchen.
Only armor.
Suits of amor graced nearly every room, save for the occasional storage room, these suits of armor came in nearly all shapes and sizes, there were the guardsmen, plated from head to toe, little room for excessive movement, indeed, for why would they sprint, or jump, when their sole purpose was to guard?
Strangely there were also suits of armour that resembled dresses, made mainly of chainmail, and not nearly as much plate, with helmets in the likeness of a beautiful woman's visage, they would appear in the ball room, the stargazing room, and a few in the throne room as well.
It was in that very room, their king sat, on His frosted throne.
Indeed, for the most unique of the suits sat on a black, frost covered throne, wich reached halfway to the cieling of the greatest room in His grand castle.
To start, unlike the rest, His armour sported no chainmail, but a hard leather like substance wich ran segmented on His thighs and biceps, His clawed gauntlets had engravings running along the edges of it's plates, His helmet had a simple plate that went from His eyes to His chin, above said plate was a piece of metal that was bent in a V shape, giving His helmet the vague likeness of a dragon.
A sleek cuirass graced His chest, like His gauntlets it was engraved, it had a triangle shaped plate the start from His neck and narrowed at His abdomen.
A leathery skirt ran from His hips, halfway down His thighs, accompanied by several uningraved plates.
His leg armour too was engraved, having a simgle plate to protect His shins, His calves too were protected by a single plate, with another coming out from beneath it to protect the rest of His leg, underneath was a pair of pointed, segmented shoes.
Perhaps his most unique trait was not His armour but His hair, blood red hair, wich, if He was standing up, reached from beneath His helmet all the way down to the back of His knees.
Two simple holes were present in His helmet, carved between the simle plate
and the V shape wich were to be His "horns".
However, unlike any other armor that would grace the dark city of Khalingar, this one armor had eyes, inhuman, crimson eyes with slit pupils, they were not part of a whole eyeball like the eyes on a human, no, these beastial eyes were simply there, like two moons in the distant sky.
These eyes, that hair, that masterly crafted armor, belonged to a king.
The king of Khalingar,
His illustrious majesty, King Ravik Alphonse Von Ziegler Zerbst.
But He was no human, for no human would disgrace His city, the grand city of Khalingar. Like every living thing that walked the streets, He was an armor spirit, formerly an inhabitant of a diffrent realm of existence, given a permanent presence in this realm by being bound into a suit of armor.
The being responsible for doing this was none other than His court sorcerer, Brimir le Reimir Yuru Viri Vee Varutori.
This suit had a coat of chainmail and the same leathery substance that graced his king, a hood sat upon his head, what was visible of his helmet was shaped like a birds beak.
A staff rested in his hand, as tall as he was, a beastial eye gracing it.
Were one to inspect this staff closely, they would see the eye moving, glancing in diffrent directions, looking for something.
The King's subjects danced and twirled about, as if waltz music was being played, but it was silent, only the clanking of plates and rusteling of chainmail were the sounds that graced the throne room.
"All except my court sorcerer may leave." King Ravik commanded, His voice cutting through the noise like a knife, the armor spirits obeyed, soon the rusteling and the clanking faded, leaving nothing but dead silence in the room.
"Brimir" the king said, His voice sounding like it could split mountains, the metallic undertone given by His helmet made His voice even more impressive.
"Yes, your majesty?" The sorcerer asked, his voice was light and young, almost like a child's, wich was not surprising, given he stood as tall as the king, but only when the king was sitting.
"What is this tug i feel at my soul, the slight pull at the edges of my conciousness?" The king asked, with a carefully hidden tone of curiosity.
"It is like when i open the birdge between our home and Khalingar, it-" The sorcerer was interrupted.
"Khalingar IS our home, boy, continue" The king corrected, slighty irked, wich the sorcerer noticed.
"Y-yes my king, it is like the bridge between worlds wich hangs above our home, but somewhat smaller, more focused."
The sorcerer explained, this gained king Ravik's attention. "Are you suggesting that someone, or something has enough power to reach across worlds and pull at MY soul?" King Ravik said, not believing anything could rival His sorcerer's power, he was young, but his magical ability was second only to King Ravik's.
"I-it would appear so, your majesty." The sorcerer meekly said.
"And where, pray tell does this, this "bridge" originate from?" The king asked, impatience lining His voice.
"I don't know, your grace, all i can tell is that it's not coming from this world." The sorcerer quickly explained.
"Then find it, i will not have some some lower being tearing my soul from my body, not when i have no heir, to the throne!" The king commanded, and His sorcerer obeyed with a quick "yes your grace!"
as he left, leaving the king to do nothing but try to study this odd tug on His soul.