Island of Adnia 2: Rivers of Deceive

CHAPTER I: DOOMS OF DECEIVE (1)

CHAPTER I: DOOMS OF DECEIVE (1)

Beneath the epiphany of a mystical night, the woman displayed the tragic root. The obnoxious truth, amid the prelude from a treacherous night. The Queen of Adnia rose in nerves. Delirious into the void, cheering behind her soul. Unveiling the weakness of her desires; the enmity of a unforbidden singularity. An inexplicable betrayal, an inexorable wakefulness. A thunder fell behind the castle; between the gleaming heights of the mystical tower, as Marlina slowly cornered her shame before her will. Melting slowly, around the eminence of her own lies; between the blaze of her own deception.

The God of Air screamed incessantly. Her restless face roared the wrath of a real king. The fate of a broken man, who’s love witnessed his worst nightmares, those that could’ve never imagined. Those that could’ve never throw such betrayal; his beloved did not respond. His queen could’ve not find the words, for she suddenly forgot how to explain, although she mastered dozens of time in her mind. And even if she did, the fury of the wind and the rubbish storm subsided into cascades of fearful rain; a stronghold of destiny never seen before. In the whisper of a cold break, close to edges from deceives and dishonor; towards incredible hardship of loyalty and promised dreams. 

Each step the woman took back, amid her trembling retreat, seemed to be the last; falling into the vicissitude of cowardice. Onto the cold tempest of the darkest storm. And from one moment to the other, the queen stumbled over a bronze sword, hit the concealed curtains, and upon the blink of a fearful eye, around the glare of a stunning beam, the goddess of light fell from the heights. Below the highest realm of the island's doomed skies.

The God of Air tried to hold her, but a part of the king's mind did not allow him to do so; before his lowest effort, the queen of the biggest empire around the infinity planet descended from her throne. Falling between the currents of the cruelest air and ceaseless rain. Her screams were heard everywhere; her lament was resurfaced by the waves of the forgotten windfalls roads; her royal testimony was lost among the waterfalls of f*******n nights. Amidst the longest bridge, of death and life.

The woman fell sharply between the laurels of the deepest river of the island. That dark bank which determined the change and uniqueness of a segregated realm. The borderline for a divided kingdom; in the middle fields of two nations, in the middle dreams of two empires. And the merciless currents of deceive and lies plunged her soul completely. Bragging her between the deep tunnels; the subterranean silhouettes, of the mysterious waters of ultimate damned heels.

The woman lost her consciousness, abruptly and promptly; her mind began to rave amid the mishaps of a unique, and unequaled night. Her senses began to lose themselves, between the chains of time and space. She tried to swim afloat, she tried to resurface along, but the profanities of delirious currents of the truest intentions gnawed at the probes of her spirit covered in disgrace. The light was of no use to her this time, but rather drowned her and dragged her further into the chaos of transformation, causing her to quickly lose the powers she once learned amidst creation of legends and vituperate mist.

Her eyes closed, and her body stopped fighting. Her swims in vain were abroad, and diminished in the suspended gravity from the suffocating waters; howbeit, strangely enough, her memory began to make sense again. Her thoughts were avid, and fascinatedly undisputed.  Her memories became alive, promptly to manifest, around thousands of rapid scenes. And although her energy was still in the tangible plane, her mind began to explore the voices of the past. The absurd acts committed on all parts. And the unenforceable betrayal that had now brought her soul to the most intriguing edge of the end; like never before in her divine life.

It all started in the war of the two kingdoms; the revenge of the empire, against the fortress of the southern palace. The God of Plasma, had regained revenge, dozens of rimmers* ago, since his rejection for the queen. Since that day, were the royal castle was invaded. The day the name of the greatest altars was reclaimed for misdeed and evil intentions. The Kings of Adnia, having been forced into exile, gathered forces in the northern seas, whereas they established a new city, amid the ruins of a lost kingdom. And when the time finally came, along the ceaseless fury of the God of Creation, Marlina and Amsiret led a singular counterattack, from the northern shores, towards the center of the island. For their intention was simple: to reclaim their raptured castle, and bring downfall to the sovereign might of the God of Plasma.

The subsequent war went on for two thousand days, and two thousand nights. A stirring battle, where even Elgoneth himself faced like a beast, to overthrow the injustice of the raided empire ruled by the plasma powers. The litter of the two kingdoms was full of scars and fears. The blood spilled was uncontrollable. And the Castle of Adnia, once glorified by creation itself, witnessed the bloodiest warzone ever explored between the furrows of the island's shame.

The bodies fell like pawns; souls lay like dust. The energies intersected between the hallows of mysticism, as the battle of the two brothers was inexorable. The roar of their leadership was put into test, and although the Kingdom of Aravir was seen as the least favored, the impetuous attitude of its King, The God Arac, made the proponents of the Kingdom of Adnia tremble: as the weakest realm, as the true traitor.

The plasma waves and elements intertwined in an unprecedented duel against the nature of light and air. The divine laws seemed not to apply in this war, for the battle of chaos was actually the formation of the chronicle for imminent resolutions; an inextinguishable chaos. Meanwhile the will of a god, close and willing to make amends for the unpredictable, was present from the very favorite of his sister; the Goddess Marlina. In the middle of the tree of life, the conflict of the most powerful beings was treasured; throughout the mysticism of the uncertain, between the cavity of the terrible wrath.

And upon the last of all nights, a battle between the deities took place in the center of the castle. In the middle of the singular tree, now broken and darker than before. The branches shrank between them, giving the form of a fateful clash, to claim the might of the beatified land. And in the middle of the powers of them all, a ray of fire fell from the heights of the grayish sky; a ray that not even the god of life could explain its origin, for this fiery fell right in the center of the dark tree. The fire translated directly into disgusting messages for the ancient roots. Its dangerous energy ingrained among the deepest fields, and a strong tremor abruptly shook the present generation. The foundations of the earth began to melt. The grounds began to split in two giant chunks of unstableness, and a singular c***k opened a split, which divided the mystic clash of the mitigating ones, dividing the center of the island towards the north side, and the south side. The breaking of the moons was projected into the underground, raising the northbound rupture as the highest area, emerging unequally from its levels. And rapidly, the southbound land was trapped in apathetic abandonment, while the nearby waters fired up and ate the southern zones- The god of life had to intervene. He resent the body of the monstrosity, abandoned the ego that carried his side of his favor, and transformed into a sling of divine and blissful light. Elgoneth crossed between the depths of the southern foundations, and managed to tie some of them between the baptized roots of the deepest terrains; holding the entirety of the sinking ground, around a cold and abrupt night. With an alarming will, and with the help of the three gods, they managed to keep half of the island alive, albeit an unstable terrain. A ravine arose, and a river quickly divided the two zones, but the message of the fire of Ïnmâeh was clear: the war had to perished. The conflict must´ve reached to the end. Both kingdoms had to be remained, because if one was demolished, the other would be equally derailed. They were attached, for all eternity.