A/N: This is kinda short, but I'm feeling a bit uninspired at the moment. I guess there's going to be three more till the end…
Cold whispering shadows. The world of light and darkness were opened upon the sight and the shedding of blood. The seal was broken by the powers of the powerful at the other side. 7 of them had come at the call of the dying man in the desert, looking down upon the weakling mortal a hundred and 18 years before this day.
The man was young and strong but no match for the ferocity of the desert wind and the barren land that bore no fruit. He suffered in madness and thirst, hungry for water and revenge. Hate fueled him on for no physical substance was to be found. Even the blood that seeped from his cracked scabs, soon to be scars, no longer whet his tongue. It was luck that made his eyes still there unharmed. But the vision had already gone blurry with illusions and mirages of water and castles.
It was there he prostrated himself upon the sand and the demons came amongst them. The creatures of darkness heeded his call for death.
The black smoke swirled around him, tasting and judging their prey. His mind was open as a book and was over-filled with hate. The black demons could hardly believe what lay before them. A man at wit's end, so close to death…was begging for a way of release from his suffering.
The conjurers proposed, they tempted and shown him power. Here was the being they knew would be their own. The Darkness always wanted to lust and control, to destroy life and populate this Plane with their own mockery of life. This mortal of hatred, of power and human mind was soon all too easily exposed.
They sapped his blood and fashioned for themselves cloaks that divided the Darkness into 7 but one beings. Their spirits and power possessed his kind and body. Their knowledge of committing evil penetrated his brain. They re-fashioned him into no more than mortal.
He lay weak and naked. His words that allowed them to do this to him had opened forth The Darkness's power. In the desert was created a castle of blood, and they lay him there amongst them. Demons were fashioned from The Darkness's hands in the corvine shape, sitting the wishes of their hapless tool or power. Jewels and begrudery were provided, clothes fashioned from the air. All rouge and scarlet, and with the luster of gold.
The man was indeed a prince, the prince of his land. The mortal was smart and cunning. But his mind was easily addled with the lust for revenge and darkness. So the demons plotted and wrote the prophecy. They had fated the birth of a female, the last of the line that the prince was going to marry. They made sure of that future.
When he embraced his powers and learned to control his blood lusting habits, they used him to behold himself to the prophecies on the coronation of the prince's brother.
No more would there be a king of the land, till the end of 118 years. The demons masqueraded themselves as their gods.
For there were no gods the people worshipped. Even their prince, now king, was deceived.
Till now.
A/N: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, and including my new one!
Review? Heehee…
Also, sorry about the cliffhanger here. I'll write the next chapter soon…just need to find a time to concentrate on it. It's going to be tough…
Shoys.