The Forsaken Race; The Warning

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Prolog (v.1) - Prologue

Submitted: July 14, 2018

Reads: 139

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Submitted: July 14, 2018

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(NOTE: FIFTH BOOK IN TFR SERIES, READING BEFORE FINISHING BOOKS 1-4 IS HIGHLY DISCOURAGED)

 

 

 

This temple is more like a large gothic cathedral. Its six tall walls, forming a large hexagonal room, were black with one circular window of red and violet stained glass per wall. Gold trim was about the edges, coated in complex writings and designed with gothic scrolls when meeting a corner. The ground's color depended on how the light hit it, varying from red to violet to emerald to black. The roof was like a six-sided pyramid, made completely from thin glass that revealed the night sky. To complete the area, a square well was at the center of the ground. It was made from black metal, with four wolf statuettes at each corner, and the inside was filled with hazy ethereal-blue aura.

Finally, four figures are seen in the midst. One, the smallest, stands at least five feet in height; his form is like that of a wolf's, with a rotted dark pelt and glowing orange eyes. The second figure is like a tall person, though his form is hidden beneath dark robes, and horns protrude from his hood, as well as skeletal hands from his sleeves; he resembles a grim reaper. The third is like a monster, nearly eight feet in height. Its monstrous form has two sets of twisted black horns, rotted black skin, and a spaded tail; the vision of a true demon. Finally, there is the fourth. At thirteen feet in height, he is a small dragon with tattered wings and his skeleton showing through several breaks in his rotted skin. His horns are black, and his eyes are green and glowing.

The reaper is first to speak, and in a very raspy voice. "Another one has fallen."

The dragon's voice is harsh like fire. "Unfortunate news, indeed."

As the wolf paces back and forth, he growls and snaps with a very gruff voice, punctuated with snarls. "Damn it all! This cannot continue."

The demon's glowing grey eyes land on his own hand, which appears so rotted that it could fall off at any moment. As he mutters, his voice is dark and hellish.

"At least their corruption, regardless of its mystery, was fast."

"That doesn't matter now," the wolf growls. "Shall gods and goddesses continue this nonsense, the world will be thrown into total anarchy before more than half the inhabitants turn into monsters!"

"The question is 'why,'" the demon insists. "Why do they do this? It is the most dishonorable thing any creator can do, and in the process of destroying themselves, they destroy their own people, even the mindless innocents."

The dragon remarks, "Indeed. None of them deserve this fate. To not die or fade away, but to be forever banished from their proper afterlife, left in broken reality to face mutation and the sting of betrayal."

The demon glares down. "How many, brother? How many races lost to the hand of their own gods?"

"I am unsure of the total number," the reaper responds. "I only know that it has easily succeeded twenty, by now."

"At least it is the small tribes," the dragon insists. "These are small ones that nobody has uncovered, or secluded themselves. Should a larger elven or ghoul race fade, the panic among other peoples would surely worsen."

"Regardless, this is nothing good!" The wolf snaps. "How many more of these lesser people before a-"

Suddenly, the aura within the well flares bright and high. The veins on all of them suddenly illuminate lightly, and their rotted figures seem to just barely heal some. This breaks their attention quickly. 

Somewhat confused, the dragon stretches his long neck forth, peering deeply into the aura. It continues to churn and spiral within the black well, looking like a bunch of ethereal chaos. Even so, the dragon begins to make a message out of it.

The demon inquires, "What is the matter, brother?" 

"It seems our spirit-walker has slain one of the corrupted gods," the dragon explains. "She contained its celestial remanence and has made it an offering to us. She must know of our wounds..." His eyes narrow. "Should we warn her of the latest corrupt god, though?"

"No," says the reaper.

"No, not yet," the demon agrees. "Let us give the girl a break. Destroying these beasts is no easy task, and she clearly went out of her way to give us this fuel."

"I agree," the dragon says, returning to his more glorified position. "Motion carried."

The wolf looked irate. "And the prophecy? Are we still delaying that?"

"It is true that we cannot hide it much longer," the reaper agrees. "The first and second of the signs have already been shown. 'The first sign; when a ritual beast rises by betrayal, and falls by loyalty.'"

"The leader's outburst," the dragon mutters. As he sighs, smoke flares from the nostrils on his pointed snout.

The reaper continues, "'The second sign; when a disgraced brother's power awakens once more.'"

"The hybrid," the demon agrees. "A descendant of Ash. Her power and true form were released."

"Only three signs left, and the dark prophecy will fulfill itself," the wolf remarks. "Its been too long, already. The third sign will appear soon enough, and the time between each one after will only shorten. We must warn them now, before the next is revealed and all go to hell."

The reaper solemnly explains, "You know I cannot contact the spirit-walker, brother. The Hysteric is blocking me; he probably knows about this, and wants to prevent them from hearing anything. The beast has much power, and breaking through takes too much effort. By the time I get to the spirit-walker, the sign will likely have already been shown."

"It's also risky," the wolf says. "They're faced with dark times, already, and a message like this will surely spark panic. Not only will they think less rationally than they have been, but the Hysteric will be fueled by the chaos."

"What of the hybrid?" The dragon suggests.

"I can no longer speak to her," says the reaper. "Her prophecy was fulfilled. She awakened the power within herself and followed the clues to the beginning of a possible apocalypse. Now, we are all devout to this new prophecy, one I can only give to the spirit-walker, as is tradition. I cannot speak of it to the hybrid."

"Perhaps..." The dragon thinks before continuing. "It is against a god's rule to speak of a prophecy to someone not a part of it. It is not forbidden for someone not a part of it to prevent the predicted outcome."

"How would you relay the message, though?" The wolf argues. "It's the same problem."

"No," the dragon continues. "We cannot speak of it. But another spiritual being could."

"You insist we speak through someone else?" The reaper suggests. "That is unorthodox and frowned upon, using spirits as pawns. They have done too much of our bidding in reality for us to manipulate them in death."

The demon sighs, "However, these are dark times. Change may be necessary, and so long as we do not make the ultimate sacrifice like these other gods are, it should work."

The wolf snorts angrily. "If none of us can get past the Hysteric in time, then a mere spirit surely wouldn't!"

"No, but getting to the hybrid would be a wise choice," the reaper says. "She has very little mental restraint, and several of the other Zyreans are incapable of comprehending this in a favorable way. Even our small beta would refuse to listen to any shady afterlife figure."

"We can't use just anyone to relay our messages, either," the dragon remarks. "It must be someone who is not a part of Afterworld or Oblivion. Someone in a non-governed realm, with a weak connection. Someone able to move quickly, with less restraint."

A moment of silence comes between the four. The demon taps his horn with one claw, the wolf paces, and the reaper looks into the well as he thinks. The dragon gazes upward, toward the night sky. It seems there are no ideas.

However, this quickly changes. The dragon notices a single creature's silhouette above. While the thing was just a mere bird, the concept is what sparks the idea. A creature, black as soot and flies through the night. The dragon knows that if his idea will be agreed upon and put in effect, it will have its own risks. But this idea also has many positive aspects. It goes beyond meeting their previously stated standards.

"My brothers," the dragon speaks, "I believe I know who to summon."

"Who is it you think of?" The reaper inquires.

"Someone living in a non-governed realm," the dragon explains. "Someone able to move quickly and be discrete. Strictly speaking, someone like The Raven's Bane."

This makes everyone stop. The reaper's glowing white eyes reflect surprise. The demon looks suspicious. The wolf growls and shoots the dragon a sharp glare.

"We cannot," the demon hastily argued. "The Raven's Bane; if we wish to avoid risks, that is someone we mustn't even consider."

"That little weasel is a deceiver, a bastardly snake!" The wolf snaps. "It died dishonorably, broke our codes, conspired with an enemy, and, in death, went into hiding like a coward! The beast cannot be trusted again!"

"Think, brothers, think!" The dragon retorts, red flames flaring at his nostrils. "The Raven's Bane has ethereal magic, enough so that it may receive the message of the latest sign from us. Not to mention, its weak connection to the Eternal Realm allows it to move much faster and undetected."

"Calm yourself," the reaper warns, and the dragon's flames reside. "I, for one, must agree with you. It seems that the positive aspects of this scenario hardly outweigh the bad. Provided that isolation has not damaged the bane's loyalty too badly, then it should be able to fill the position well."

"I still disagree," the wolf growls. "Leave the beast and find someone else. Okult, perhaps, or someone like him."

"Okult is too devout," the demon remarks. "His connection to Afterworld is too strong, and too many have the same problem. While it's good for our strength, it's bad for fulfilling this task."

The reaper sighs, "I always did think the punishment for the Raven's Bane was a bit harsh. It broke our codes and acted cowardly, but the Hysteric had a large role, and knowing what it was getting involved within the hours before it died, perhaps we should've taken its position more into consideration."

The wolf grunts dismissively. "I see the punishment fit. Your sympathy was the only thing keeping it from the pits of Oblivion."

"Enough," the dragon speaks sharply. "That doesn't matter, now. A greater danger is at play, and as stated, we only have so much time before the following signs appear. More concerningly is the prophecy waiting at its end. You saw the horror for yourselves, one full of darkness, decay, and grim endings. What it means or could lead to, any of us has yet to find out. But finding the answer isn't nearly as important as being prepared for it."

The dragon looks down, his eyes illuminating in a manner almost radioactive.

"Only three signs left until new chaos emerges, something easily three times worse than what we've been seeing. If our Zyreans are not ready to face it, it could just as easily claim all of them."


© Copyright 2020 Raven Akuma. All rights reserved.

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