CHAPTER VIII: THE CHRONIC EXILE (1)
1998 Words
CHAPTER VIII: THE CHRONIC EXILE (1)
Forty-five days passed by, since the consolidation of the great fortress. The kings enjoyed a premature nation inside a sparsely populated castle, yet, of definitive refinement. Precious in its composition. The nations’ army developed likewise, solidified, over the abysmal southward heights, of the Crystal Siege.
The Kingdom of Adnia arose, just as Elgoneth had foreseen. Inflamed by the blue and pink fires of crown and royalty. The legend of sapphire; the benevolent face of beauty and pride. Carriers of light; decoys of the indigo stone of balance. Pondering the cleave of energy, in the midst of good realms, and evil reigns. The one crowned by the circular blaze of victory. The same fire of the lover, who consecrated her as the Goddess of Light. Owner of the legitimate prosperity. Owner of the legitimate realm
However, the kings of Adnia didn’t heard about the god of plasma, since his wandering in the woods; the general had not return to them. They assumed he did not want to know anything about the new kingdom; a written feedback of the army reached the kings every fifteen days, by a messenger from Aravir. As a gesture of the general, showing apparent commitment. And upon this day, the third letter was expected, as mandatory news of the general.
"Dusk is approaching Amsiret,” exclaims Marlina, “and yet, we haven't received a message from Aravir.”
"Easy, my love” responds Amsiret. “The last two letters have shown a wonderful breed of the army. Besides, there isn´t much danger upon our lands yet; everything is under control. Why do you care so much about Solari?”
"I'm worried about your brother Amsiret," the queen replies. “Forty-five sunsets had passed since he was lost in that forest. How do you expect us to build a stable kingdom, if the kings are at odds with their own general? What’s the point of this? Where´s the honor in that?”
"He's fine, Marlina," the king replies. “He’s leading a fortified army, he’s with his people, he’s with Emerita. And they should feel blessed, since Elgoneth gave me the news she is now, pregnant.”
"What?!" asks the goddess, agitated. “I mean we–how does my brother know that’s true?”
“It was within his plans for Emerita to conceived a child.” responds the king. “The first of the new breed of wizards, the Magical Solarians. Half gods, half earthlings. ”
“Oh,” says Marlina, “I did not expect that.”
“Why not? You prepared her for this yourself” responds Amsiret, “and you did it well! I'm sure she's the best woman for my brother!”
The goddess of light remained in silence; her gaze was towards the orange rays of the region, as an inevitable tear carried delicately along the woman's face, as she tried in vain to hid from her lover, so he wouldn´t see hear.
“What's wrong?” asks the king. “Are you crying?”
"I'm excited for them, that's all," answers the goddess of light. “It’s a tear of joy.”
“Just don’t worry too much.” Answers the god of air. “I'm sure they are fine. I´m sure a message will get to us soon.”
"You're right. I don't know why I'm so concerned."
"It's your good heart; your good intentions," replies Amsiret. “Now, I'll go to sleep for a while; try to be calm. Everything will turn just fine for everyone.”
Both of Ïnmâeh’s moons denoted their portentous light over the forests’ sidelines; over the night grassland, of the lost island. In the depths of these hidden praires, was a frigid swamp- leak, dark, grimy. And on the proximity of it, the God of Plasma stood delirious. A delusional god; contemplating the greenish lagoon before him.
He gradually raised his hands upon the winds of the pond, and a magenta energy began to flow out of his hands; as electric currents. He spoke some words, undistinguishable for the human ear, and the delicate waves of the voice became in rushed purple noise; heading towards the waters of the mangrove.
From the impurity of the lagoons, pestilent monsters began to emerge, one by one. And those who were once condemned to live forever in the dirt and marshes, were being forbiddingly released, for the final devastation of burning and fire.
Their backs were hunched; their torso were thick. Their eyes were deformed; their face was terrifying. Their mouth wide, and their teeth sharp. They rise from a viscous secretion, and from a disgusting layer of mucus that shed as the beings emerged. Roaring through the darkness of the lagoon.
The monstrosities tried to attack the god of plasma, but he imposes himself as he raised his magic staff, above the cold wind, whose haunted whispers embraced the f*******n place. A violet light disposes furiously, and the vivid powers of the god blinded all the monsters; kneeling them, while he exclaimed the following words,
“I am Arac, the God of Plasma! I have created you above these vulgar waters, above this horrible realms! Therefore, you belong to me. I am the owner of your souls! I am the owner of your ways! And the first command you’ll obey, will followed to test your loyalty, and preserve your lives!
“You will head towards the center of this island.” continues Arac. “You will hide in the vicinity of Geordet Forest, and there, you will wait for me until I indicate your next move. Move on!”
The monsters started their journey immediately; towards the indicated place. Fifty enraged monsters; hungry, and savage for the dark god's orders.
The latter went southbound, towards the Palace of Aravir. As he reaches, hundred and fifty warriors were lined up in the entrance; in line, awaiting the orders of the great general.
“All ready, my lord!” exclaims one of the battalion sorcerers
"Excellent.” responds the Great General. “Let the bridge of light be glimpsed!"
The bridge of bluish light began to glow from the entrance of the palace, as the army marched over a magical walk; suspended over the air. Speeding towards the center of the region. The god´s evil plan, had begun.
The general guided the empire through a sluggish route that led them to the left side of the Castle of Adnia; reaching the center of the region. And when he glimpsed the Venerable Sacred Tree, the same he had heedfully planted before in the virgin lands, inside the castle, as a parade, as a show; as if it were a trophy, as if it were dummy, the violet blood of the chosen one began to boil with fury. The soul of his sacred flower, had been exasperated; anger, revenge, washed over his uneased mind. And nerves caused the explosion of violent colors, as they implied for destruction. For the sorrow intended to be sprout over the preciousness of the palace. He was about to anticipate, but his plan, should not be altered.
He placed the army around the hidden trees; grabbed his seven best warriors, and went to the gates of the fortress, as they met the guardians of the giant wall.
"Who are you?” exclaims a guardian. “Get the hell out of here!"
“Show more respect to the general of this kingdom!” responds a wizard warrior. “If you don't want to have your head erased right away, you peasant!”
"Easy, Verroy," exclaims Arac. “It's not his fault; it´s the first time they´ve met the general. They didn't know who he was. They're just doing their duty, right boys?”
"Forgive me for eternity, my lord," answers the protector, as he bows his head in the heights. “Indeed sir, we’re just doing our duty. You can come in, although it would be right if only you come inside.”
“Come on, my son” exclaims Arac. “You are not going to let a god like me pass without the help of his friends. As you can see, my walk is quite messy.”
“Well, it's fine,” exclaims the guardian, “open the floodgates!”
The warriors of Aravir entered the great castle of Adnia, as the fourth steward of the gates, guided them to the royal tower; the home of Amsiret and Marlina. They arrived at the main doors, which was protected by twelve knights of the fief.
"Excuse me sir, but I can't let you pass this late."
“I came to talk to my brother,” responds Arac. “There´s an unexpected threat he must know. I need to inform him, for it represent a danger for all of us. I’m sure you do not want inconveniences with your king, or your general; nor to interfere, in their royal will to defend us all.”
“Okay sir,” responds the main knight, “but only you can pass on. The rest must stay here.”
“As you wish” answers the general.
Around the restlessness voice of the night, the light found herself absent. Marlina could not sleep; a terrible feeling returned to her recurrently. Her subconscious awoke, every time she managed to fall asleep; her mind was caught in a trance, between her reality and her dreams. She opened her eyes and was still lying on her bed, next to her king. Her dormant gaze, was fixed upon a shelf where she could see her magical round mirror; offering a small reflection of the two king lying in their bedroom. She closed her eyes again, and a flash of lightning visualized from the window; illuminating the room instantly. Forcing to open her eyes anxiously, and when she did, terror was reflected through the mirror. A shadow was behind them, static, paused. She was horrified; although, she wasn't sure if she was imagining this. Hallucinations in the mysticism of the night; she decided to close her eyes again, but her inner sense of defense screamed to look around. And as she did, she saw the reflection of the darkness behind her, holding a white knife; just about to be buried in the throat of the king. The goddess of light turned her back; with her right hand, she stopped the attack of the fearsome shadow as best she could, while she was still in the unfortunate bed. She cast a spell on the being with her left hand, but the being dodged it, and counterattacked with a powerful light that threw the queen aggressively towards the corner of the shelf. The noise of his strike, woke the king, only to find his brother trying to bury the lethal razor against his throat. This time, using both hands; all his might. The god of air stopped the attacker's arms promptly, measuring forces against him. Although, death seemed imminent for the king, for his resting position condemned a loss. The pressure from the attacker was superior; ruthless, as the king of the new nation was about to be annihilated.
Marlina reacts immediately, stood up, and grabs the small mirror. It sticks itself rapidly in the palm of her right hand; her eyes turned to a golden tone, her body recharged with currents of light; the woman extended her hand, and holding the mirror, she exclaimed,
﴾ ITHILIĖM DRYCH ﴿
A lethal spell went towards the god of plasma; the lightning of the goddess projected through the crystal of the mirror as a width power, as it hits the attacking god so hard, that his body crashed and destroyed one of the room's walls. Falling upon the highest, roofs from the heights of the castle.
Amsiret quickly gets up bed, and grabs his royal sword; he helps Marlina to her walk and as they reached the edge of the room's opened wall, they view their kingdom from above, and behold a petrifying image which would haunt the minds of the kings, forever. The venerable sacred tree, was covered in flames. The royal castle, was being attacked by its own army; a storm was devouring the confines of the wretched kingdom, for a betrayal was evident in the fiefdom. The legion of the god of plasma, had begun their traitorous act.
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