Woe: A Collaborative Novel

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: The Imaginarium

"Arisen" written by Akumakaze.

Please check out "Lucidity," and his other works, @ https://www.booksie.com/users/akumakaze-150666

Chapter 15 (v.1) - Arisen - by Akumakaze

Submitted: October 08, 2017

Reads: 184

Comments: 6

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 08, 2017




On the far eastern reaches of the moorland, nestled within the recesses of the Cragswell range, the Cavern of Ju’la Sur shook from the disturbance of power within the earth. The slumbering body within lay upon the cold black stone slab, covered in linen, and wrapped in the soft blue mystic glow of his own making. The dark, dank, and fetid atmosphere of the cave seemed like a tomb; and, to Him, it might as well have been so.

Another small rumble coursed through the rock of the cave, shifting the earth. Dust and debris fell from the cavern’s earthen ceiling in scattered places throughout. A small gathering of dirt pelted the head of the slumbering being, but he did not stir. The aura of slumber faded slowly over the next few moments and the body began to move.

With the aura gone, the darkness shrouded the figure as it rose from the black stone altar. The linens fell to the floor and crumpled into a bundle beside his feet. The cool air of the cave shimmered with magic as the man spoke his first word in centuries.


The rumbling sound of a large stone echoed inside the space. The sliding grate of stone against stone was slow and purposeful. The being stepped toward the sound waiting to welcome the open air. Sunlight began to pour in along the edges, expanding, slowly but surely, into the cave. The warm air from the outside rushed in along the wall, bringing with it the herbaceous aroma of dew-covered grass and honeysuckle, replacing the stench of decaying moss and murk.

Ju’la Sur breathed in this new air, clearing his lungs from centuries of decrepit foulness that seemed to choke the life out of him. Sunlight bathed his nude body in its golden glory warming the flesh that held his vitals in check. With the flick of his wrist, the cascade of sunlight and blue aura enshrouded his form, veiling him with a new appearance.

Long, shimmering white hair, golden at the tips, settled across his shoulders down into the middle of his back. The ears of elves peeped through the locks on either side. The tight muscular frame stood strong in the sun, yet it didn’t have the same hue as the elves of today. The skin was a wonderful honey tan that melded into bright gold where the sun lit up the skin. It was a reflection of his youth and the part of him that was as vain as the ones he sought to punish once his task was done. Still unclothed, he cast his right hand forward, into the air outside, holding it steady as if reading the atmosphere. After a moment, he pulled it back in.

“Damn elves, I build them a kingdom and this is how they treat it. They don’t deserve to keep it, but now that I’ve been awakened it seems I’ll have to save it before stripping it from them. Now, where should I begin...”

He raises his hand again, feeling the air, reading the essence of power upon the threads of wind that flowed across his skin. Several powers have grown amongst the people of Midgard, I see.


One of Shadow—a hafling boy—his power is stronger than he knows. I’ll have to find him before the darkness does. Another like he is close to him, but not as strong. Skillful, maybe. Hopefully, they are bound together; I sense a light in the weaker one that seems genuine.

One of Light: An orc. That’s strange. Hasn’t been one like that since Ta’Ruk during the Calamity Wars. And there are others... It seems the mystic Areaneth is needed once again.

Areaneth clapped his hands. The mystic blue light he summoned wrapped his body from neck to toe. It floated freely across his naked body until it flashed into a brilliant golden hue. As the light faded, his body became clothed. The vestments he created hung tight to his body.

Layer upon layer, the leather accentuated his shape creating bulk across the muscles and offering padded protection over the joints. Sunlight captured the dark black color of the cloth and held it fast to the eye, fragments of mythryl adorned the folds and edges of the outfit highlighting its fierce demeanor. The robe that flowed over it all hung in its dreariness as a dark charcoal gray curtain, shielding him from all manner of weather and some magical attacks.

A circlet of mythryl adorned his head, encasing, in its woven center, a large blue sapphire that helped to focus his energy into devastating spells, should he need them. He walked over towards the back of the cave and pulled from the darkness a blade and belt that he attached to his side. Pulling the blade from its sheath, it shimmered and glowed in the darkness, humming strongly with unearthly power. Solais, he called it, the Sword of Light. It felled the armies of Artagoth—the dark mage who rose to power in the Calamity War—with two swipes. Let’s hope you aren’t needed in this fight.

Areaneth re-sheathed the blade reached out his right hand, calling forth his staff. It flew into his hand from the opposite corner of the cave. A sturdy oaken staff with a dark metal dragon, resting atop the wooden knob, holding the crystal orb in its mouth. The tail wrapped around the shaft. The sapphire ruby eyes glimmered as Areaneth held the wood. The crystal orb pulsed with light, beckoning for a command to be used.

“I am ready,” Areaneth said aloud to himself. “To Damasc.” The crystal orb flashed to life, glowing as bright as the sun in a matter of seconds. Areaneth held the staff overhead. The power from the orb bathed the cave in its glow. Then it vanished, taking Areaneth with it. Sparkling embers of light hovered and faded into the air, leaving the scorched earth on the ground the only trace that Areaneth was even there.



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