This was supposed to be only a shorty but then it literally exploded. Another 9k monster. I hope you don't mind 😅
Also, following the events from the prior chapters, this is probably not what you expected to come next. There's a certain aspect of the game, that is mentioned over and over again but is never expanded. Since I'm diving right into this topic and there's not much to work with game-wise, this chapter is very AU-ish. At some point, it even has some resemblance with a history lesson because I did some meddling there as well but I believe these two parts are actually playing quite well with each other. I hope you are going to enjoy the ideas I weaved inside 😁
"Rinwell!" The young magician's name was called out by a very familiar voice, bearing the also familiar rough edge. Currently, she was standing at one of the countless windows inside the house she calls her home. It's rather funny. They live in hiding, have done so for who knows how long, yet they build houses anyone could invade easily enough. According to the elders it has been countless centuries already, maybe even several millennia. Not that she cares much about it anyway.
It's a distant memory and she lives in the here and now, the impassable barrier of time separating them for eternity. At least that's how it should be but reality can be twisted in many ways – sometimes even so much that past becomes present how it's the case for her life. It's an experience you have to suffer on your own to get a grasp of how suffocating this way of living is.
A seemingly endless amount of time has passed already but she and her people hadn't changed at all. Still living their ancestors' life who lived their ancestors' life as well. Honestly, how long has this been going on by now? Why did nobody ever bother to question whether this was still the correct path for Dahnan magic casters?
The elders always said, that if the youngsters like herself have any problems, they can always ask for advice but Rinwell wondered if this might be a question even the wisest of elders couldn't answer. At least not in a way that would satisfy her. Most likely, it would turn into a tutoring rumble she has heard too many times in her short life already. If she can prevent increasing her count in this matter she will gladly keep her mouth shut. She's not convinced she would be able to live through another one without going completely crazy - not at all.
For the moment, she was comfortable with simply standing by the window and observing the shuffling occurring in every corner of the small village, well hidden from any curious eyes.
"Rinwell!" her name was called out again. So far she ignored the shouts for her presence but knew she couldn't do that much longer because this time loud and haste steps accompanied the booming voice. She sighed, already being aware of the reason for the aggravation dancing atop of every noise that came her way as well from whom said noises emitted.
"Rinwell, there you are!" the same vocal accord vibrated through the air once again, the one she knew since she was born into this life. It was her father. A great magician and a great leader for the mages when this entails keeping everything as it is, fearing even the smallest of changes. Also, a strict teacher when it comes down to forcing knowledge onto his one and only daughter, not caring that much what his daughter thinks about that tight working schedule.
She's only twelve years old and has other things roaming insider her head, like making friends and seeing the world. Shuffling through antique tomes doesn't sound that appealing to her compared to her dreams.
Sadly, that's what her dreams are – just dreams. Dahna is not a world in which she can simply do as she pleases. She might not be the slave of a Renan Lord, doing his bidding but that doesn't automatically she's as free as a bird either. In a manner of speaking she is indeed a slave, one who simply carries different shackles than the other. They are not physically attached to her body but mentally to her mind. And there's nothing she can do against these binds, at least not as long as she's a magic caster.
Hearing as the long steps of her father had almost arrived she sighed again and finally turned around, switching her brain off, as she always does in preparation hoping that most of the impending scolding would be blocked out.
What Rinwell didn't expect was the harsh smack of flesh on flesh nor the throbbing, sting-like pain in her cheek where her father has just slapped her, hard. So hard that small tears wanted to assemble in her eyes but the giant shock took completely over and hindered most of her body functions.
This has never happened before, Her father has raised his hand against her, hasn't even shown any sign that he was capable of such a horrendous act – at least until this very moment.
Carefully and ever so slowly the small girl lifted her hand to her burning cheek, still not believing what just happened. When her delicate fingers brushed at the reddening skin sharp pain shot through her whole body and made her flinch. Rinwell could still feel the leathery texture of her father's hand, crafted from the unimaginable amount of pages he has gone through, on her skin. She tried to deny this reality, didn't want it to be real but regrettably life prefers to be cruel.
Her father was pacing up and down in front of her, like a startled, oversized bookworm on steroids. "By the grace of Dahna! What am I supposed to do with this foolish girl!?" It didn't sound like it was a question directed at her, more like he was speaking to himself, trying to figure out how to continue from this point.
"Rinwell," he began and she immediately took a step back, fearing she would be hit again "how many times have I to tell you not to leave the village?" She has heard him uttering this very phrase countless times already but so far they never get through to her. But now with her shell cracked open the words of lecture invaded her sacred place, making them so much more agonizing, so much more unbearable.
Her father continued his speech, using his hands and fingers to emphasise what he was telling her, hoping he could bring his point across at last. The outside world denies their existence and they deny the existence of the outside world. That's how it has always been, that's how it is and that's how it is going to be in the future as well. He prayed that the drastic action he took would be enough to get finally to his daughter.
But Rinwell had already closed off. Everything happening around her was nothing more than a blur, foggy and opaque. It was almost as if a thick veil had surrounded her, severing and separating her from reality. It was exactly what she needed. A safe place where nobody could reach for her, where nobody could judge her. The tears she had forced back for so long finally fell from her puffy eyes and rolled down her cheeks until they dropped from the tip of her round chin, falling on the wooden floor where they shattered into million fragments. It was like a perfect metaphor that has become true because it showed what has happened to her dreams and hopes. They as well had shattered alongside her watery tears, in fact, shattered a long time ago when she first saw the light of day.
She couldn't breathe anymore as everything became too much for her to endure any longer so she did the only thing humans can do if hope is corrupted and turned into despair. She fled.
With more tears streaming down her red cheeks she screamed as she began to run. Where to? Rinwell's a smart girl and can give a well thought out reply to almost everything she's asked about but in this case, she's utterly helpless. But she doesn't care where as long as it's far away.
She pushed her father out of the way. Startled by his daughter's sudden action he did nothing to stop his own flesh and blood from escaping her birdcage and even if he wanted to run after her an outstretched hand haltered him from doing so. It was his wife and therefore Rinwell's mother stopping him in his tracks. She shook her head, indicating that this matter needed a careful approach and more than anything time.
But that doesn't mean, doing nothing but waiting is easy, though. He was angry and certainly overreacted about his daughter's antics for leaving the protection of the village behind over and over again. He could understand her curiosity very well, after all, he has been in her age as well at one point in time. Remembering this he felt intensive regret gnawing at his insides.
A loud bang echoed through the still house, the only hint that Rinwell had stormed out of her home to who knows where. The worst of all it was his own fault and no word of apology could just patch this up again. He sighed in a similar fashion as his daughter. He had screwed up, very much so. So it's in his responsibility to set it straight again. He will wait until Rinwell has calmed down a bit and returns home. Then he will talk to her and apologise.
His beloved wife gazed at him with sympathy for a few moments longer before she turned around and left. She was not angry by what had transpired and that was fortunate for him. Otherwise, he would have to suffer through a world of pain, an experience he can live without. But she wasn't happy either, adding only more to his regret.
He sighed again, this time in defeat. The damage is done one way or another anyway and a bit of distance will work for all of them. He wandered through the wooden passageways of his house until he stood in front of his working chamber. Raising his hand a magical circle appeared in response and with a snap of his fingers dispersed. The heavy doors screeched as they opened slowly, granting their master entry.
The interior of the room was filled with shelves over shelves of books and scrolls, much older than many can count. He would love to go through all of them once again, debating with himself if he finds yet a new aspect he has overlooked so far but this was not the reason he came here at least not after what has happened not too long ago. Even the old smell emitting from the ancient parchment could not calm his restless soul.
Flames of countless torches illuminated the chamber, their shadows dancing across the walls in rapid motions. The side opposite to the entrance was closed off by stones, his home was worked into the side of a cliff after all. In the middle stood a tall statue, three times his size, on top of an even larger pedestal. Up to this day he has not been able to decide what a befitting description could be, especially it looked so real he feared it would start moving at any moment.
The being coming closest to the statue's appearance was a dog or one of the countless wolfish Zeugles roaming the different realms depending on what you prefer. Even so, it was a crude comparison. Only with a lot of fantasy one could see the few similarities.
Two enormous horns adorn the creature's head, pointy and able of gutting mountains like small lambs. Its body is bulky and heavy, the thick muscles rippling and bulging from pure strength. The sturdy legs, equipped with sharp claws, supporting the colossal frame can tear open the earth with ease. Its long tail is like a whip crafted from diamonds. A direct hit from the flexible rod of raw flesh is equal to the cruel grip of death itself. A pair of gargantuan wings stretch from its mighty back, always at the ready to lift the body into the sky and darken the world below in despair. Most of the body is covered by black skin, stretching from head to toe, the underside of the giant coloured in deep purple hues, the difference between black and purple almost not detectable. The most terrifying part about the rocky construction is the gleaming red eyes. They have the same colour as blood and one look is enough to petrify even the toughest woman or man from fear.
Whenever Rinwell's father sees this statue a cold shudder runs down his back. Whoever had created this artwork certainly had a morbid taste for detail. The statue looks so real that he wouldn't be surprised if it just started walking. When he first saw this as a child he couldn't sleep for nights, his nightmares haunted by the creature depicted. From time to time these dreams return to him even now and turn his nights into sessions of shivering and sweating.
If he could, he would move the work of stone away but that's not something he can do. Firstly it's simply too big and heavy to be moved and secondly, it serves a crucial purpose. He closed the doors behind him and made sure that they are locked, What he's about to do is only meant for his eyes and the person he deems worthy to be his successor one day.
On one hand, he hopes this person to be Rinwell. She's a smart girl and would perform an excellent job acting as the leader of the village. On the other hand, he doesn't want her to have to endure the same burden he carries in every waking moment on his shoulders. Sooner or later this moment is going to come but for now, it's still a worry for the future. Still, Rinwell's outburst from earlier was a heavy blow to his conviction. So far he thought he has been doing the best for all of them but now? He was not certain anymore. That's why he came here. He wanted to remember the reason why he was lying to everyone he loved, including his wife and daughter.
Stepping on the pedestal he moved under the large statue. His master had shown him where he needs to look. The construct is so well crafted that it's all but impossible to find what he's looking for if you don't know where to search. He stopped below the centre and raised his hand. His fingers brushed the surface and even though this is supposed to be cold stone it radiates the smallest amount of heat, enough to fuel tonight's nightmares, where he's hunted down and devoured from the being he has defiled just now.
When he was sure he had found the spot he searched for he applied soft pressure and the stone gave partly in. It was a switch, activating a mechanism only the leaders of the magicians have ever seen. Weak grumbling filled his study room as the cogs of the machinery he just started began to work. He took a few steps back, waiting for the process to finish. The elder mage felt the little vibrations through his feet, indicating that it was almost finished.
The floor of the pedestal parted at last and opened the path to a long, narrow staircase. He still remembers the first time he has seen this as vividly as it had happened yesterday. His master, a strict and grumpy old man, actually chuckled at his reaction. Back then he was not amused about that but now with many years passed by since then, he can understand. It certainly is always a big surprise when the sees how the pedestal opens up and if someone were to watch this unprepared it's safe to assume that their facial expressions will deform.
He descended the staircase, careful to not accidentally slip on the small steps and break every bone in his body. At first glance, it doesn't seem to be long but it is. The mage has yet to figure out how deep inside the mountains his aim truly is but he always forgets to count the steps or seconds he needs until he has arrived. Too great is the suffocating sensation in the barely lit road and too great is his fear.
In the far distance, he could soon see different colours of light, signalling that he was almost there. The closer he got the stronger became the concentration of Astral Energy in the air. His skin prickled beneath the increasing pressure and his heart rate became more rapid.
Arriving at the entrance he hesitated for a short moment before he ultimately passed through and entered the chamber where lies what he desired to look at once more. The basic layout was circle-like with eight pillars working into the rocky confines to protect this sanctuary from the enormous weight of the mountain on top.
An eerie feeling invaded Rinwell's father. It has been not the first time he ventured here and it wouldn't be the last time either. But no matter how often he visits, he can't shake off the feeling that befalls him. Everything about this room screams at him to disappear, that he's not worthy enough to stand where he does, that he's not the one who's supposed to be here.
It's almost as if the room is breathing, each breath a whisper and threat at the same time. Even so, he continues on his way, albeit much slower than before, until he stops in the centre of the sphere of old. Rainbow-like light floods across the floor and walls illuminating the source for his growing distress.
Six murals are engraved in the rock for eternity, even the teeth of time are unable to erase their presence. Only their brightness has long passed and vanished from the face of the world but that made them only so much more all-encompassing and horrific. Torches, once upon a time created from the purest crystal, served as lighting but no flames burned at the tips. Instead, it was ethereal Astral Energy so dense that it was a mere step away from becoming physical matter. They come in pairs, serving their restrictive master in morbid loyalty.
Red, blue, green, brown, purple and yellow. Six murals, six colours and six elements. Even a novice could tell the meaning behind this. Astral Energy consists out of a spectrum of six facets, each being unique in its own way.
Red is the colour of fire. It can turn a cold night into a warm and delightful evening where you can enjoy the time you have with your dearest friends with its warmth but can also destroy you, burn you alive and gift you with one of the most gruesome deaths. Blue is the colour of water and therefore the symbol for the never-ending vastness of the sea. Water donates life but can also take away everything in your possession in mere seconds.
Green is the colour of wind. It occurs from time to time as a gentle breeze on a hot summer day, giving much-needed refreshment by taking the heat away. In the next moment, it might has morphed into a raging cyclone of fury, ripping you to shreds alongside everything nearby. Brown is the colour of earth. Everything for the daily needs is built and sired on its fertile grounds, making life in its current state possible. But the earth can change and open its bottomless mouth, swallowing its seeds without mercy.
Purple is the colour of darkness. Its shadows a trustful and reliable friend entrusted to every being from the moment of birth until the day of death. But the same shadows can also hunt you down in the darkest of nights, turning pleasant dreams into hellish nightmares. Yellow is the colour of light. Its soft hues spend enlightenment physically and mentally without inequality, guiding you down the path of life you have chosen for yourself. But the same light can also fall down from the heavens in roaring thunder, tearing apart whatever stands in its crusade against the ground.
Each element is neither good nor evil in its core. One time they are the helping hand offering aid and another time the dagger stabbed into your heart from behind. In the end, it all depends on who makes use of the endless power. That's how Astral Energy works, that's how he himself uses Astral Energy on a daily basis being the magic caster he is. That's how the cosmic law wants Astral Energy to operate.
However, there are exceptions to this iron rule. And right now, in this very moment, these exceptions surround him, crush him with their almighty presence even though they are nothing more than lines cut into the stone in ancient times a long, long time ago.
His eyes wander to the first canvas of manifested horror, trying to figure out how he should describe what he sees. He can't and will never be able to. Maybe someone in a distant future will have the necessary wording invented and at his disposal to preserve the descriptive discovery of the small aspect of eternity dwelling inside this room. But even when he can't put his thoughts into words doesn't mean he can't decipher the old inscriptions below every mural. If he had a choice in the matter he would rather not know how to read this oldest of elder languages – even if this means he spits onto century-old efforts.
His eyes gazed upon every rune forming the ancient way of speaking, their meaning already burnt into his mind since the day he first set foot in here. His lips translated the scripture before he noticed himself and his words filled the empty room.
"The Infernian, lord of fire and destruction:"
"Efreet Malum"
"Leviathan of the vast oceans and everlasting princess of the sea serpents:"
"Luo Undine"
"Constructor and devourer of the eternal earth:"
"Grand Gnome"
"Wings of despair, harbinger of dread and demise, messenger of the apocalypse:"
"Procella Sylph"
"Galloping with thunderous steps across the plains of silver death and darkness:"
"Sola Ixion"
"Furious huntress of light, embodiment of fear for the living and dead alike:"
"Iratus Luxia"
Each syllabary he uttered echoed from the large walls, each word he released was one too much, each name he added a new cacophony. He does not understand the true meaning of these words but one thing he does know. He fears them. He has never met those who bear the names he recited from his mind but he still fears them – with every fibre of his being.
Each name is a catastrophe on its own, like an unimaginable event able to destroy all of Dahna in a single strike. His instinct tells him to avoid them no matter the cost. The nightmares he would have to live through would destroy him. Yet, the names of the beings locked away in this sanctuary are not what he fears the most, what makes him tremble from simply knowing about it.
Six colours, six elements, six names, six murals plus one.
Each of the godforsaken creatures must be linked to one of the elements, that much is easy to connect. So there should be only six canvases of old but reality mocks this logic. Opposite to the entrance, brightened up by black Astral Energy, is the seventh canvas. There is no inscription and the lines in the rock are even more difficult to make sense of. But most importantly is the small altar in front. There lays why Rinwell's father has come here once again.
A thick book rests on top, a book that is older than old, more antique than antique and even more ancient than ancient. This book must have come directly from the annals of time, telling a story so fictional that it must be the truth. Nobody could come up with such unfathomable writing.
The mage stepped closer until he stood in front of the relict. His hands reached forward and when they brushed the out-worldly object he thought he was touching history itself. Carefully his finger slipped under the cover and opened the book. He must see it once again, the reason he lies to everyone, his people, his wife and even his daughter.
His visual orbs became mirrors as they roamed across the unreadable hieroglyphics. Unlike the text under each canvas, there were barely any words he could read from this book. His ancestors spent a gigantic amount of time trying to break the code but they were unable to do so. Thus most of the text remains a mystery to this day but with what little that was discovered the history of mages was sealed.
They live in hiding, have for a long time because nobody accepts them and their abilities. Not their own people before the cosmic invasion and not the Renan masters ruling over Dahna now. That's how it has always been and that's what every mage believed without a second thought.
This fraud of history.
Everybody accepts the current state as normal and never considers to even question its rightfulness. They may be profound and skilful mages but are as simple-minded as a newborn child. This included him as well at least until his master revealed the bitter truth to him.
Mages have never been hunted down by other Dahnans. In fact, they were a normal part of society, nothing special and nothing extraordinary, fought alongside them against the invasion of the Renans. Thi claim about discrimination was simply made up to protect the construct of lies they created over time by themselves, fooling not only the world but every last of them as well.
And the reason for this foolishness resides in the few words that became readable, patiently waiting for curious eyes. His fingers stopped when they found what he was searching for. Each letter is like a black hole, consuming, never-ending and always famished. His eyes followed each line of each word, his lips shifting when they announced the truth of everything.
"A long time ago, what was one was forced to become two against its will. The natural order ceased to exist and chaos invaded. Every beings' minds and souls, whether alive or not, were corrupted and bloody war began. It raged and raged and threatened to overtake the world until the planet's will couldn't watch any longer and, unable to endure the slaughter further, bubbled from deep within and manifested, putting an end to the bloodshed with ungodly power."
A paragraph on the first page but this is not all that his ancestors were able to translate. Flipping many pages further, the epos continues.
"Matched up against the concentrated forces of the planet the evil powers causing the havoc perished in only a few months, too great was the gap in strength. The corruption dispersed, although leaving behind nasty scars on the planet's surface. It would take many years and even more centuries until all of them would be healed completely. Albeit peace was restored and life flourished once again in its former glory this story from long ago has only begun."
When Rinwell's father had first read these lines he thought they referred to the Renan invasion three hundred years ago. However, some aspects didn't make any sense but it was the first thing popping in his head. It was all he knew. Now looking back with his current knowledge he can only berate himself how foolish he acted back then. He studied day and night and acquired wisdom far beyond any other Dahnan, including his fellow mages but in the end, he was not more than an inept whelp staggering through life.
"Time passed and everything returned to normal with one exception. The planet's will never dispersed, too dense and overwhelming was its power, keeping it together and preventing it from falling apart. Bound to this new form of existence the planet's consciousness lay dormant within the planet's core, the brimming heart, always watching out if any signs of new corruption showed up, threatening to invade once more. The will soon had turned into the fabric of legends, praised as the eternal guardian and idolized as such."
So far the story seemed to follow a rather cliché line where everything ends in a happy end but this tale is one of truth and reality. Life never ends in a happy end. Where are highs there are downs. This applies to history as well.
"Civilisations came and went, each having a different view of how they see the world and therefore leaving their individual mark. But no matter how much their opinions differed, they all shared the same love and admiration for their saviour from ancient times but the more time passed, the more their belief dwindled until it was lost in the ravines of time. With the beacon of light gone and forgotten, corruption once again invaded. War began anew and the world was drenched in blood."
If he's honest with himself, the mage thinks this to be funny – funny and sad. Apparently, the written-down story of life is only an endless circle of committing the same mistake over and over again. How regrettable. This waste of potential.
"At first shocked about the true source of corruption the planet's manifested will soon, furious and enraged about this new development, emerged like seething magma from deep within the earth, prepared to unleash its wrath upon the vile vermin daring to destroy the world. The same people it has once saved were the cause for all the suffering and they were going to pay the price for this blasphemy. Millions were buried underneath its mighty paws, crushed like the insignificant amoebas they are. Once the will was venerated as guardian deity by the masses but then it was feared as the seraph of death."
As cruel as this may seem, the mage can't help himself but to wonder how the planet's will must have felt by this. Betrayed by those it has rescued in the strong belief it was the righteous action to do. In a manner of speaking he, as the leader of the mages, does the same. After all, he lies to everyone he knows... everyone he loves, on a daily basis. Is this maybe also the reason why Rinwell had lashed out at him? For once his wise mind couldn't provide an answer for him. So instead he plunges back into the written knowledge laying in front of him, hoping it would offer the answer he desired.
"While it's will spread havoc across the surface, snuffing out every being along its path of destruction, the planet felt pity growing inside the longer it watched from the sidelines. No matter how rotten they may be, even if it's to their very core, they are still its children so the planet snapped ultimately, turning against its own will in order to protect them and split the manifested form of its own consciousness apart. Six creatures were born, each representing one element, the power diverted equally among them so neither could reign supreme over the others. The planet hoped this would ensure peace for eternity but it had underestimated the tendency of its own will."
He tries not to but his thoughts wander back to the murals watching him. The inscriptions played in front of his inner eye like a broken record, especially the names, one more fearsome than the other. Six in total plus one. Are they remains of old and heralds of the future at the same time? A question he doesn't want to know the answer to.
"The new life forms were supposed to work together in order to bring the world back into a state of balance and maintain it, that was the planet's new will, but they were born from a creature full of wrath, a wrath that neither of them could simply forget nor ignore. They picked up where their united form had stopped. The destruction of every life sped up dramatically. Their individual strength might be weaker but they were still too powerful for any form of opposition. Life was on the brink of vanishing but then the unfathomable occurred. Each of them had different views, vantage points that opposed each other and soon the battle of extinction turned into a battle of superiority between them."
He can't even begin to imagine what the world must have looked like during these times but as shocking as this is, it pales compared to the result of the heavy infighting - the truth which comes along it.
"The fight between the divided will of the planet tore it apart. The earth opened, the oceans parted and the sky fell from the throne above. There would be no future if this continues. Acknowledging its mistake the planet focused its remaining energy on a last-ditch effort, hoping it would turn around the situation. It sealed away each portion of its will, putting them into chains so they could never cause any further harm but with all of its energy spent the prize to pay was steep. What was one became two. A pair of twins were born from the death of the same mother. They are known as Rena and Dahna."
Why do people lie? A question philosophers can debate for centuries over and are yet unable to find the fitting answer for even if it's actually so simple one has to laugh about it. People lie simply because the truth is too gruesome and the book in front of him is the embodiment of this. Rena and Dahna are one and the same, separated from each other by the cruel fangs of fate. And this must mean Renans and Dahnans are not two different civilisations but one as well.
He still remembers the first time he had read this section. He sweated from every pore and hyperventilated before he passed out, too heavy was the impact delivered to him by the cruel truth. He understood why his master did not reveal this to anybody. No matter what happens this mustn't ever be revealed. The results would be too catastrophic for Renans and Dahnans alike. Now, after having seen the truth with his own eyes again, his resolve became as solid as steel. Even if it tears him apart he can't share this with anyone so he will continue to carry this burden. And if that means lying to his daughter then so be it!
He wanted to close the book and leave this place as fast as possible but something inside him stopped him from doing so. He flipped further through the pages, unable to decipher anything at all until he arrived at the last entry. With the wisdom, he has acquired he was able to translate this part word by word but never dared to read it in full. Too terrifying was the closure of the book.
"The name given to me at the moment I was born equals betrayal and devastation. Yet, my will never gives in and even now, powerless and at my weakest, thrown away and imprisoned in a shell of flesh, I still desire a world of peace. A world which is free of any corruption and I will make reality one day. Not now and not in the near future. But in a time far, far away, when the six elements are combined, Rena and Dahna have united and thorns are devoured by flowers, I shall be reborn and make my dream come true. To create a world which bears the same name I do. The world that shall be known as Redahna."
Each syllable of the last paragraph sounds more like an ominous omen. It's like a glimpse of the future that will become reality at some point. The words feel offsetting compared to the rest of the book, at least that, what was translated. It's almost as if someone... something added these words after the book had already been written, tainting and morphing the true meaning into a morbid paradox of its former glory.
His heartbeat hastened and he grew restless. Elements combined, Rena and Dahna united, flowers devouring thorns. What could be the meaning of this? Is this what's going to happen or is it a metaphor and means something entirely else? He reread the final part again and again and again. Maybe he did make a mistake while transferring the runes in his language. It's so different that there must be greater meaning behind these phrases.
Before he could dive deeper into any theories he heard something unusual. It was muffled and barely audible but it still sounded like a scream. Somehow that unsettled him even more so he decided he would leave things here as they are for the moment.
In a hurry, he left the chamber, made sure nobody saw him emerging from the statue in his workroom. By now he was sure the sounds he picked up were screams. What could be the cause of this? Running as fast as he could he arrived at the entrance door to his home and stormed outside. What he saw was a nightmare come true.
The whole village was burning, his fellow mages lay slain in their own blood. Whirls of wind raged through the empty streets, tearing down their houses as if they were built from paper and not solid rock and wood. They reeked of death and he would have vomited at the spot where he stood if it haven't been for the voice above him.
"Oh? Would you look at that, Mesmald? Apparently, there's one left for you to fill your belly with. Enjoy your meal to its fullest, my dear boy."
Instinctual Rinwell's father turned around to identify the attacker of his home. The only thing he could make out was the black mess of the dragon abomination racing at him, mouth wide open with blood and saliva dripping from the sides. He may be profound in magic but his physical abilities are even weaker than those of a slave. With the speed of the beast, it was clear that he had only seconds left before death would welcome him in form of sharp teeth and razor-sharp claws
"Forgive me, Rinwell. Be well." He knew... hoped that his beloved daughter had left the premise of the village in time before the attack. When the mighty jaws of the reptile closed around his body and squeezed the life out of him, his past flashed before his inner eye. There were so many books, almost everywhere in his entire life but so less of his wife and even lesser of his daughter.
Have they really spent only this little time with each other? Regrettable. Rinwell must hate him for this and he can't even blame her for it. He has neglected her after all, only forced her to learn as much about magic as possible but never actually showed her how much he loves and cares for her. He can't even apologize to her anymore because death has pulled him already in its everlasting grip.
Delighted snarls accompanied by the sound of flesh being torn apart echoed through the now lifeless village as the creature known as Mesmald feasted on its latest kill. Mesmald was famished from the long search for this place, its master was relentless in that matter, so it was a godsend when they finally found this place where it could refill its stomach to its heart delight.
Mesmald's master sat on top of one of the few houses still halfway intact after hers and Mesmald's rampage, watching, as her pet replenished its energy, with a small smirk. The orange-haired woman must admit it was surprisingly very hard to find this place in the first place. The everlasting darkness in Cyslodia complicated her search and her rival, the Lord of this realm, Ganabelt Valkyris, made her search even more of an endeavour with all his traps and games he had prepared.
But if she's honest she found this game they had played rather entertaining and it made her discovery so much sweeter. But if Mesmald and her hadn't seen the small magician girl running through the woods by a mere streak of luck they would have had to retreat back to Mahag Saar.
However, fate was on her side and with the help of the young girl, though involuntarily, they, at last, arrived at their aim. With a low chuckle on her lips, she floated down on the ground. It was time to unhide this box of treasures in order to gain an advantage in the current battle for the crown. No matter how much she needs to drench her hands in blood, she can't afford to lose this fight. She can't stand the contempt for women in her home anymore.
In order to achieve her goal, she will do everything as long as it helps her get closer. With that in mind, she started to unveil all of this place's secrets.
Everything around her was dark, cold and frightening. Her thoughts were a mangled mess, leading her back to the day where she lost everything that was dear to her.
One moment she was running through the frozen forest, hot tears flowing down her reddened cheeks after what her father had done to her. In the next one, something had crushed her almost, only missing her by a negligible amount of mere centimetres. Snow was everywhere but she could still make out the large shadow of whatever had caused this. When the veil of white vanished the colossal frame of the dragon staring at her with a ravenous hunger was revealed. But this was not what frightened her. It was the orange-haired woman leisurely sitting on the dragon's back looking at her with nauseating interest.
Suddenly she floated in the air, her eyes shining brightly and Rinwell understood in how much trouble she was. The woman landed directly in front of the young girl, her intimidating form towering easily above Rinwell's body. She used her staff and pressed Rinwell by her throat against the nearest tree. She left enough space so Rinwell could still breathe but it was not enough to reassure Rinwell she wouldn't die from a lack of vital oxygen. Rinwell thrashed around and tried to pry off the staff cutting her supply of air short but it was hopeless. The woman was too strong.
"And what do we have here? Little girls shouldn't run around in forests far away from civilisation, especially not during the night. They tend to disappear due to certain... accidents. Wouldn't you agree with me, Mesmald?" The dragon flexed its saliva-coated teeth, each of its breath a foggy explosion in front of its large mouth.
New tears dripped from Rinwell's cheeks but this time not from sadness and betrayal but by pure horror. Before she realised it herself she had already chanted her incantation and a fireball shot towards the woman. She was caught off guard as her eyes widened in surprise by Rinwell's action but instantly reacted after she caught herself.
Rinwell's spell was ripped apart by howling winds commanded by the woman. "Mesmald." she ordered and her pet obeyed without a seconds hesitation. Rinwell thought she would die now but the dragon stopped mere inches away from her. She could feel its stinky breath all over her body as it sniffed at her, the stench of death pulling the contents of her stomach into her mouth. The dragon's head snapped into the direction she had come from but she couldn't figure out why because blackness had conquered her senses already as she went limp after a ball of wind had hit her guts.
From there her memory faded into nothingness, leaving her helplessly behind, dangling suspend in an empty space without a lead of how to escape. Suddenly though, Rinwell saw a faint light in the distance, getting closer and closer to her. Soon she had to close her eyes because it had turned too bright. She groaned from the uncomfortable feeling, like someone pulling the curtains aside without a second thought in the morning.
But the feeling paled compared to the next sensation. It was like the light was smashing against her, over and over again, trying to force her awake. Something hard and pointy hammered in a mad rhythm against her forehead without a shred of mercy. Rinwell groaned again, this time due to pain.
"Hoo, hoo!" the light said to her before the pecking began anew. 'What in the world?!' Rinwell thought to herself. Since when does light talk? Has she gone mad?
"Hoo, hoo!" there it was again, this time louder and more persistent. "HOO!"
Rinwell's eyes snapped open from the loud chirp, pulling her into the world of reality. Her dreamy confines broke down and she wished she could return to them. She felt like she had suffered the same blow Law did earlier this day, her whole front hurt like hell.
"Hoo, hoo." Again, there was again this noise. It was close by but the young magic caster was still in delirium, her mind still dysfunctional. She blinked her eyes multiple times and slowly but surely she could observe her surroundings. For starters, she lay on her back. The view of the sky above her indicated as much. She couldn't remember how she ended in this position. Her last reminiscence was when the blond girl had almost crushed her throat – without Law's interference, she most likely would have done so - and then kicked her away like a rag doll.
For a few more seconds she laid still before her mind had fully processed this information and connected it to her current situation. Her body shot upwards, highly alerted. The first thing she perceived was a startling sound coming directly from her right shoulder. She turned her head around, fearing for the worst but when she saw who it was she calmed down.
It was Hootle, surprised by the sudden movement. It must have been also him who pulled her out of her foggy mind. There was worry on his face so she patted his head instinctively to assure him that she was fine... at least the finest she currently could be.
Her eyes wandered across the area and soon had locked onto the unmoving frame of Shionne, ajar against a tree. The Astral Energy inside her body was as good as gone, only snippets were left behind. She must have used all of it to heal Alphen. Speaking of which, where is the passionate swordsman? Normally he would fuss over them in worry already but something must hinder him from doing so.
She shifted her vision around and soon found the silver-haired man. Similar to Shionne he was passed out, laying on his side within the snow. His hands and forearms were frozen over, looking like a block of ice. His face sprouted a big nasty bruise and Rinwell could swear she could see the imprint of a fist beneath all the blood. Further, his mask was now adored by multiple cracks across its surface. It was a miracle it hadn't broken from the impact mutilating his visage.
There were also countless, reddish-orange shards spawned around him. For whatever reason, they emitted the same Astral Energy as his blazing sword. What in the world has happened while she was unconscious?!
She looked around but could not find the last member of their team of five. Law was missing as was their assailant. Had the unknown girl somehow managed to topple all of them over and was now fighting Law who knows where? Since she seemed to use the same style as Law does maybe their affinity was the best and Law could keep up with her. But with the grave injury on her side, it was unlikely that the fight still continued somewhere.
A sudden noise of rustling snow caught her attention. Immediately directing her attention to where the sudden noise came from, Rinwell discovered that she and Hootle were not the only ones awake. Unfortunately, it was not an ally, she would even have been happy if it was only Law but to her dismay, it was the one responsible for them coming to this forest in the first place.
It was the albino wolf Zeugle. Despite his wound, he was pacing up and down in front of a pile of rubble and broken trees. It looked like a cave-in but what could have probably caused anything like that? Was it a natural disaster? Or something related to the fight? Whatever the reason was, one plausible conclusion she could make.
The blond girl is nowhere to be seen and the ice wolf is running around, panicked may be even the correct word to describe. It sounds ridiculous but she thinks the girl and wolf share a comparable relationship like her and Hootle. It would explain one or two things at least.
Following this line of thought the girl – and Law most likely as well, since she can't see him anywhere – are buried somewhere deep within the new additional hole in the earth. It would take several miracles for both of them to be still alive. The chances are high that they have been crushed by the falling rocks and trees. As dreading as it may be but that's the harsh truth. Despite that the wolf still desperately started to dig through the snow with its paws, hoping he could reach his friend like that.
Rinwell felt sorry for the Zeugle. To a certain extent, she could even understand him. If their roles were reversed Hootle would probably do something stupid as well in order to rescue her. A sudden growl ripped her from her thoughts.
The wolf had stopped digging and was instead glaring at her with murderous intent now. With bared teeth he came closer to her and Rinwell could sense how the Astral Energy inside his body intensified. This is not good. Shionne and Alphen are passed out, Law is missing and she has barely the strength to keep her body upright let alone to cast any Artes. In order to survive the next few seconds, she had to play a dangerous game of poker, a game where she needs to pull the right cards in the correct order. And she needs a huge amount of luck that her assumption about the furious Zeugle closing in on her is correct. Otherwise, she will join her parents and never get the chance for revenge on the woman who destroyed her life.
"Wait!" she started. It was silly and useless in this situation but reflexes can't be turned off so easily. "I understand that you must be angry at us for what we did to you and your friend but I think this is all a huge misunderstanding."
The animal was unimpressed by her speech and instead lowered its march, ready to jump at her any second now. Under normal circumstances, Rinwell had given up on this ridiculous attempt already but with her life on the line, she pressed onward.
"You as much as we, want to save our friends but neither of us has the necessary abilities to do so. If you want to rescue your friend you will need our help as much as we need yours." By the grace of Dahna, just what was she saying there? It sounded like the crazed mumbling of a madwoman. The hell will turn into a luxurious relaxation resort before the ice wolf would even begin to consider her words.
Luckily she didn't bet anything. She would have lost. The wolf stopped his approach and Rinwell could see how the wheels in his head started to move. Seems like her assumption was indeed correct. Just like Hootle this Zeugle has the soul of a human and is able to understand what they are saying.
The four-legged beast looked over his shoulder back onto the pile where his friend has disappeared under and then at the injury near his right hind leg. Then he shifted his attention back on the small human girl in front of him, observing her every reaction. Then he did something that caused Rinwell's mouth to fall open.
He seated himself on his hind legs and gave a snort-like sound. It was like he was saying 'I'm listening, so get it over with already'.
Rinwell was utterly stupefied by this reaction and if Hootle hadn't given of a small, worried chirp she would have stayed like that for who knows how long. Recollecting her scrambled thoughts she was kinda glad that Shionne and Alphen were unconscious. Otherwise, she would have been unable to look either of them ever again in the eyes. She took a deep inhale to prepare herself for what was going to happen next.
"Let's make a deal."
This chapter introduced a lot that I will come back to at a later time. And you probably noticed that I changed Luo Undine from a slug to a sea serpent-like dragon. I think that's simply cooler than, well, a slug!
Anyway, I hope a history lesson was for once interesting and did not bore you to death! Honestly, I'm a bit worried about that part but I feel like that is the best way to introduce what I wanted to. Don't worry though. I won't do that all the time. So far my notes don't entail another one 😉
With four chapters in, have you already come up with ideas about what will happen in the future? Don't be afraid to share your opinions with me. I love to hear what's running through my readers' minds ❤️
See you next time!