A celebrated attainment on both golden badges and feast satisfaction made them smile throughout the journey, but for an hour of daylight travel, they let themselves go through the sequence on the trail of the realm with a morbid thirst. The journey from the seashore to the land and back to the seashore feels never-ending. Loaves of bread on stained dry goods, leftover meats that seem to stale, they ate still.

Dreaded, Ancient, dusted, and smashed to smithereens, the barracks are ruined but no sign of any frill against are lay eyes on the walls. He and the armory woman is given the place behind the Chief Orcaters whom they protect them; Lord Radir Makel and Lord Reyon Orison. The pikemen, castle guards, and the apprentices are signaled to continue the trail to the Castle Garrick, pack and put the apparatus and weapons in good order before they get there, then the spot remains all the commander as well as the Chief Lord Orcaters.

A great distance at the thick woods pieced together like a puzzle, City of Ragark, fifty miles long from the Ruined Castle they on and saddled. Marched down the lane separated with the other knights. Around after the noon, a point of light be predestined to spread warmth into the void, at the middle of nowhere were glow rings, walls covered with violet glitter like a freshly fallen dirty snow, once vast and magnificent, it is not dark nor paler. Chilled on the feet plated iron to their heads not covered with anything solid. The gap of the forest made the structure even more visible.

Afotros, the abyssal dwarf hero of the vast sunken cities traveled in the dryland to make a mark before his death and his untold nature hides a deep knowledge of the most secret places of the sea [https://img.wattpad.com/4a1bffd2ae2cc9d2cec430e8ab62ab3bd20cf94a/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f54334c57315451584a36726c30513d3d2d313132363034383433362e313730613438383038363966643066343938303735333539363337332e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

Afotros, the abyssal dwarf hero of the vast sunken cities traveled in the dryland to make a mark before his death and his untold nature hides a deep knowledge of the most secret places of the sea.

They made it to the gates of Shattered Helm castle, yet curiosity towards the people that which the puckered elders within the hood are in comfort at the darkness. They keep all the bladed weapon intended for thrusting and piercing, and so over long revolve it poses a question and studied.

They keep all the bladed weapon intended for thrusting and piercing, and so over long revolve it poses a question and studied [https://img.wattpad.com/aa7cac76f33eefbe2d1e40127e592018ee1da901/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f3834364e4370704737336c3451773d3d2d313132363034383433362e313661323163343632353664616465343635313233393532373536312e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

The flock of them slowed down before the mighty rampart, sparkling shards of amethyst violet. They stare at it from the base to pivot, from pivot to the socket. The fantastical battlements, fabulous but somewhat dilapidated by the old age, never been used after.

The tip of the high and well-fortified dark-colored structure have no banners erected, a mountain-looking shape withered castle beyond their eyes, superstitious or voluptuous. Faces astonished yet the sisters; Almeyne and Akeleyde of House Zarath made no faces of surprise but solemn. It seems that this mystical structure is common to them, especially Akeleyde, riding back and forth for any upgrades, fortification needed for the Garrick.

The castle is surrounded by small perished stone buildings which be given to understand are barracks or outer defenses that are responsible for keeping warriors as powerful as their counterparts [https://img.wattpad.com/34c0b54b8bbc398d854873bd397dcfd4e070789d/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f61794843476671597847537a4e513d3d2d313132363034383433362e313730613364333637633063363661313932353331363034303731332e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

The castle is surrounded by small perished stone buildings which be given to understand are barracks or outer defenses that are responsible for keeping warriors as powerful as their counterparts. Some turrets' roofs have placed the ballista designed to heave javelins, abandoned swords, from longswords to broken handle battle axes.

Lord Radir: The walls are huge it is you see [https://img.wattpad.com/9c2cc3d709000b00dac4f6fb8dbdc6b18e6ddcba/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f507842587a49664750486d6f55773d3d2d313132363034383433362e313730613363633331303764656339613538323730353938363833392e676966?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

Lord Radir: The walls are huge it is you see. It is huge enough to protect what's inside it, and for people not to see it. Now I will let one or two of you to get there. Raise your banners so the guardian will see us, they do no harm if they see the trusted banners of our own flying.

Turned his horse around to face them, the winds of the plain came to them, a rushing wind from a fine southern overwinters. The marching continues while he leads the way.

The Lord Admiral Radir Makel, broader looking than the other Lord of his company, a very tough and exacting which gave him the gratitude to be a Chief of the force, with a little helping of seriousness thrown in for good measures.

Lord Radir: Akeleyde Zarath

He called the Lady of the armory, she then approached him. Smooth voice they heard, she was always skulking like a howling wolf but when a commander talks to her, she barks like a little puppy.

Akeleyde: Yes, my lord?

Lord Radir: Make sure to place the armaments at the right place as they should be, listen to the guardian of the ancient if he had any additional requirements for you, The Elder, Arcizal. Pick one of the men to help you carry the armors, then the remaining men are guarding outside the gates to flick off trespassers, off you go.

The armors used, shining silver, pointy end of any edges and blue stains design believed to have supernatural power over natural forces. She turns her head to her group of swordsmen, Almex Naaron and his brother Morris, including Almeyne, same as her blood, looking very identical like twin sisters of their Houses, but she did not pick her. Over Otter and the other known great commanders of the forces of the north, she picked one that she knows a trustworthy.

Akeleyde: Sir Makaela.

She called one of the the elite commanders of Shakars.

Salagor's eyes taking a good look at his blue dragon shield and having a glimpse of the old abandoned pieces of machinery. His shield he loves, arrows plunged into it are marks of his prizefighting game victory, his favorite made his earnings.

Akeleyde: Sir Makaela? Come with me Sir, and do as I told you.

Out of the extremely lethal and frightening horizon, the Lady take a charge of him to another voice, his mind afloat within the after chaotic scenery, and steady, remorseless black artilleries. He divulged, taking out his eye from the land he admires. She declared with a second voice, rolling out her eyes from him to the place castle they are destined.

Beautiful but she has a firm restraint, Salagor thought.

Despite the strict approach of the physically sublime armory girl, she never thinks of a second thought to taking the scenery away from his book. From a landscape that had known nothing but truculent and overbearing mechanical giants, haunting winds of battle valor for a thousand years, they tore the souls and bones of countless fallen legions, now bleak, sterile, and dark looking field. Moreover, they choose a pathless one from them to the trail, the choice might trick their boots then trip their bodies on black dirt came to fail.

Moreover, they choose a pathless one from them to the trail, the choice might trick their boots then trip their bodies on black dirt came to fail [https://img.wattpad.com/9a6658fe021cd3f4d453196b334f660e0e15ebf4/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f3468526d46437851426b5a6372673d3d2d313132363034383433362e313730613364346530656231663062373837363236363231323032312e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

The inner gates have been drawn open by nothing, no living or magic, an entity it seems that the gorgoyles, opened it but by itself. The wind blew and it was not ordinary for what he smells, it smells like a sluggishly molten iron musty like an old hearth at a stone dungeon, strangely foul but sweet indeed. She nods to Salagor to make their way for it, then unmount herself as well as him to follow on, and leave their well-trained, placid horse outside while they enter.

Salagor: This was an abandoned place, Is there someone living in here?

Akeleyde: There is someone living in here Lord Makaela, just wait for him and for sure he is waiting for us.

Salagor: How many are they?

Akeleyde: Well...there is a sole enchanter, a wizard, a grand magus.

Salagor:

They passed through the arched, preposterous outsized gateway, the floor indeed hard and cold on bare boots, they walk further beyond the black gates. She beamed, while two of them helped each other to carry the cart themselves inside the castle; cart full of armor that is used on the parade to showcase themselves as the assassin's of the north.

Salagor: You know this place for several years, aren't you? You know your way around.

He asked her while they're moving the cart inside, her red eyes turn at his, red like a forge ember, and her braided hair drooping in her plated shoulder.

Akeleyde: I do. I work with the Elder Master every single day, that is why my presence at the castle before the ocean may mean nothing of me. You will meet him later. Work with the weapons first before we talk to him.

Dark and empty, the heat of the sun faded when they got inside. The air is cold unlike outside, musky but generally pleasant to smell. Expected much that he thought inside of the centuries-old unkempt structure is crowded with chests and abandoned items, but all he can see is just a weapon pile by pile, hulking like dumpsite of metal and it was arranged in a shape of a circle at the floor.

Without a second glimpse nor any moment to look after the unforeseen, the huge gates closed by a surprise, sounds that ring terrifyingly violent, immediate turns of chains, and an extremely potent loud doom.

The fire red and sudden, torches on the walls attached implacable torrid like a sparkling phantom on the shadows, suddenly ignited. Heat grew beneath their armor and beneath their feet. Crawling like a snake, glowing like the moonlight within the cold stone floor, an ancient hieroglyph at the side of the hidden stairs appears beyond their eyes.

Akeleyde: Calm down, calm down...just work. This is normal. Put your sword on the sheath, no harm will come to us, there is no need to threaten anyone.

Salagor: Alright...okay...I'm just...ahh. What is going on here? Does that not scare you?

Akeleyde: It was one of his magics that is written in the myths and songs, no one believes it. I got used to it especially I am the only one who was assigned for him.

Her hands on Salagor's breastplate to make him feel calm and guarded. A sense of nervousness, the darkness as well as the terror grows, but she made him comfortable, maybe she wasn't that evil, after all, he thought. The lady's eyes told to care, the voice seems quiet and painstaking.

You will become an omen yourself if you seek threat, she concluded.

She never draws her sword for once at the time that everything is completely out of shock. She works, slow but tough as if she can carry a bull behind her back. She never shows any worries on her face, never looking terrified as though she is a part of it.

The armor she wears, never a stain from short gorget to her shining sabatons, but two of them have their gauntlet covered with thick and treacherous dry mud from their tedious hard duties. As the fire alights the vast castle, everything is visible. They were slender and far from the ground, their heads and eyes towards the ceiling.

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Statues of the five figures can be seen throughout the walls, circling them and massive.

Statues of the five figures can be seen throughout the walls, circling them and massive [https://img.wattpad.com/c66e8395440c3f92bd0aa54f37e4f0bd9167c18a/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4a6c76313830317936666c546b773d3d2d313132363034383433362e313661323163363431366630383639303537303534383037353530322e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

(The statues should be inside the castle, this is the only image that resembles it.)

Akeleyde: Don't be scared.

Salagor: I am not scared at all, this place is just unusual for me. This statues are greatly huge.

The late call of message made a non-vacuous steady smirk between them, at the point, their hearts tend to bond the knowledge in common.

Akeleyde: Well now you can see everything, this is always what happens when I go here, now you felt it for the first time. You enter, dark, cold...then this massive door behind you, mysterious isn't it?

She pointed what is behind them, it is darkness, like a blank space but pointing at the closed black gates she intended to.

Akeleyde: When I go here, everything appears whenever the door is closed. The light blue you see at the stairs are connected on the floor making an effigy, it is underneath this pile of steel.

Salagor: Holy...those are massive.

The five massive statues he got shocked as well as curious to know the history behind the graven gods or heroes. Five ancient figures, tilted heads looking straight up to the steep ceiling point of the castle, the end of it, forthright like a person's eye. The small hole at the top makes a sun-struck at day, a lucent moonlight beam at the dead of night. The middle of the pile of steel; which it should be at the middle of the floor sigil.

Her smile filled with gladness, but Salagor's mind is not in particular with the things he demanded to know are still in the void [https://img.wattpad.com/d48ce44b6f47782d4b2b9fd57dfcda44a542334c/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f467369496d68504f7566654b76773d3d2d313132363034383433362e313730613438623433666635316137663631393937393435393433332e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

Her smile filled with gladness, but Salagor's mind is not in particular with the things he demanded to know are still in the void. The echoes of the voice after they talk rang throughout the castle, only two of them.

The last drop of the helm, the last fix of steel hitting another causing a loud cling at the stone walls throughout the entire interior, the job is done, what is next? he thought. Staring at sixes seas and seven stones. Sword upon their hands of an unyielding knight's legacy, the scorching princess palms assumed to ablaze a fire. Cape and cloak flew frozen at the current of time, hair shown many braids from the countless victorious battles.

Tapping, they heard, it was slow but heavy footsteps coming from the stairs. A person's tread is the sound that it makes with their feet heavy as it falls. From the shadow, it cast an old man's feet, hands hidden on the sleeve like a wizard from another world.

Master Morken: Welcome again to Shattered Helms, what an excellent choice to bring a friend, or is it? Lady Akeleyde.

The beard before his chest reveals old like his age, as well as his slight fur-lined cloak as dark and not as young as one was the castle where he lives. He rarely raises his soft voice but it still rang the castle like a single bell on the void. No top hair, no mouser, wrinkled forehead, and pale small mouth. He also has a small eye like he is peaking through something small like a hole on a wall.

He also has a small eye like he is peaking through something small like a hole on a wall [https://img.wattpad.com/6914fffd1c91a70b7d4a01537ca913bd95dff69b/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f58356a7a347255614452336d74673d3d2d313132363034383433362e313730613364393334633562333161323330323736333034333535392e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

He noticed; a visitor is glancing back at the graven effigy circling it. The Ancient heroes, mythical beings as well as feeling the frosty mist like an ancient apparition.

Salagor: I am Salagor of House Makaela m'lord.

He nods his head sways his silver hair and leaning most of his upper body, showing respect before him. The ancient old himself deserves one of the kindest acts.

Master Morken: You honor me. It seems to be a knight carrying a butterfly in my castle...that is good, that is good for a strapping young lad, like you. Have you...finished your duties?

He stepped out of the line, the line drawing stairs after a black wooden door at the end of it. He mentioned me as a butterfly of his castle, he thought. The alternately darker and lighter color scale on both wings are symmetrical, the flying butterfly of House Makaela. The old man asked them, looking at both the fearless and the faultless soldiers of the Garrick plated with armor cumbersome and brittle, boots full of mud and so their hands.

Akeleyde: Yes, my lord.

Master Morken: Good. It might also be noted for first, Well met, Lord Makaela.

From the strong-willed brilliant woman to the man, he touched her braids, the hint of one battle won upon his life wielding a weapon. The old man's voice is soft but time and time he coughs between a word like a frog upon his throat.

Master Morken: Since you are here now, Akeleyde, Salagor, follow me.

It must be the hour of light sleep, middle of the afternoon; the windows casting the sun way like looking at the eyes, the walls are slightly glowing incessant red and the heat slowly coming into existence by a sudden, unusual.

Salagor: Who is he actually? Is that Arcizal of myths that Lord Radir mentioned?

Salagor asked her, whispered behind the old man while walking towards the end of the stone stairs.

Akeleyde: Yes. Master Morken Arcizal, The Father and the Keeper of Mage Mancers whose never been believed. The House he was into are surrounded by the wisest people of Aluthea, they tend to be the origin of witchcraft and wizardry. You...as a man whom invited to meet him and so I want you to keep this as a secret.

The moment they reached the end, far but to a certain extent can be reached by the feet that is been never worn to a frazzle. The elder one's wood chamber door, the wood it is built with an acacia tree. He gets inside and so the two. The smell of dusky spiced ointment came out like at once flap of its wings. Neat, Clean, a bed and table full of bottles and open books. By either side are the bookshelves which fixing it is inessential, wicked ones like torn covers, withered as such rat eaten papers, new ones and the books for the Gods he worships the guardians protect them all. Putting his garments, ointments, hot glassed potions from a brewing stand.

The potions he must have been on his chamber secret is cast upon his eyes like a rainbow on a bottle with a glimmer of little stars, amongst the greatest wizards in those days were the ones blessed with the greatest concoction and sorceries, and yet so complex was the allusion to that all grand magus was still forced to specialize.

The potions he must have been on his chamber secret is cast upon his eyes like a rainbow on a bottle with a glimmer of little stars, amongst the greatest wizards in those days were the ones blessed with the greatest concoction and sorceries, and y... [https://img.wattpad.com/46def968f003077896a57c4676b8b9d87e52095d/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f72656c3266374d514e395f7a44413d3d2d313132363034383433362e313661323163373538623832356333343637313234333538393639342e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

Fixed seat they settled down, a pleasure from his command, they are tired and weary, almost quarter of the day been traveling from north to south and merely hours that their bodies carrying the coat of mail smithed with pride and strength making manifest.

Master Morken: I knew the lady you are been with. From the time she got the title of the armory in the presence of the...

Akeleyde: A genius of vast intellect and prodigious evocation who came to be known as Master Morken of the Shattered Helms.

She concluded, the introduction for the visitor of him; the old master assured with a nod. Master Morken of the necromancy, looks to the Man of Makaela in a sudden moment; the house he and his, is familiar, thick as a thief. Then he looked at her, a call of interruption and to finish the sentence she sworn to remember.

At the age of his, he is considered by the nation as an ancient or an elder one, a wise earl learned beyond all others, and his mind somehow still has space to contain an immense sense of his own worth.

Akeleyde: You should accept everything he says Salagor, he was like a father to me, do not disappoint him. For me and a respect for his words is all I should want for."

Two plank chests between the table, cluttered with items of his own sortilege sorcery. A small chandelier and a small fireplace with a hanging pot atop the blaze, keeping them all warmer. She asked Akelyde, as a duty of hers to be done, the cannonballs she must count. A sudden favor, haply confused, one word is enough for her to move.

Master Morken: If you ever wonder, Akeleyde must be the only one to step here, and the only one who knew about my kind, my last, kind. A blessing for me, another one, of a second in command she bought one, I want you to be warned of something.

His voice taking a breath for the moment, patience and understanding is indeed in his heart. He never settled down with them at the present time, like he is also done his duty as a Shakar; always weary but always ready. He walked slow, slower than when he steps onto the stairs. A cloth, a very immense cloth that is weaved with the art of three mountains high cutting through the sheet of clouds, at the peak is the shape of a sun intended to enlighten the realm.

Salagor: Warned of something my lord? She warned me about the myths that can be true.

He asked.

The old man grabbed a wine for them, a simple welcoming of a presence whenever someone is in his home; a bottle of Lokaldr Wine, deep-red sweetened wine from the southern grapes and berries. Freeze, squeezed, then the essence spews out like a fountain of gold.

Master Morken: Tell me first, Lord Makaela, is being a part of the army, Shakars, you call it. Is it... reasonable?

He asked him, raising an eye for an answer be poured.

Salagor: Yes, my lord. A duty to protect the realm from the rivals. I never do this just for my family, not just for my mother. I also made part with the assassins to make a worth for what is needed to be done...to take back what our country owned.

He replied, fanatical about his life sacrificing duties he continued proud, his mother, he mentioned, bedridden. Sick, old. His Father Egar Makaela sacrificed his title to his son, there is nothing to drain him to take care of his Mother.

Master Morken: Tell me, what do you think...is the reason why the girl choose you to come along?

Salagor: To help her for the duties she needs to be done.

Master Morken: Do you think you're in a safe place?

Salagor: I think so. This place is amazing yet menacing I suppose.

He walked past by the hearth, the shadow passed by his eyes while he sat following him, then he saw him walk towards the left wall. The map that the cloth it covers, same as it places something over.

The old master took away his eye from the knight, at the corner of their eyes and at the corner of the timer border is an emblem of a blue sea serpent he sees; body stretches for eight confederacies atop the map of Aluthea, at the north they gaze back at it while on a starless night and on cloudless daylight. The paper slightly perished half wide the room and as tall as them, looking as though the land is rising up of the background, pushing through every island bound the Archipelago; scattered diagonally, little by little progressively bigger in the middle.

He puts the painted fabric, dropping it on the floor then pointing his finger on the other, the port of Riela as such an 'X' mark is adverted. The stamp of the largest ship in history, he pointed at it.

The elder Master whispered, dark and uncanny.

Master Morken: You don't know, what else is coming. For thousands of years, they are still in slumber in the deep. Forget about the rivals, forget about the threat. Forget about the point where they all conquer the whole Archipelago. The creatures been worst than a Leviathan, the name that is owned, changed to denominate the land we are living in...Reviathan...can drown with them.

Salagor: If it is for the liking of the Lord Admirals, we will do whatever we can to change it. If they do not agree, then...I will let you be with them.

The elite butterfly got snapped by bemusement, looking at each other like in the same way as a close friend, as close blood runs through the veins. Master Morken continued even if his voice is deeply lower than a trench, and there affix his eyes, now it widens like a bare white moonlight. He stood up and howled without a sanction, his mind came to another side of it, he does not believe it,

He followed.

Salagor: The monsters are gone for thousands of years, we are only focused on protecting the land from the living threat, so I don' think Lord Radir would~

Master Morken: Send a falcon for your New King, protect the ports, protect what is close to the sea. Your Lord Commanders, Highest men of the Castle Garrick I see, they should've been better; they should've been wise enough to reinforce the Octopia.

His voice gone low, fierce and fiery along with the blaze of the fire behind the hearth and the low struck from the noon sun. Never talking as much as they are scared for the life of the realm, a master's mouth is precious as a gem and clear as glass, but that is the only time that one can decide if he or she will listen to the words come pouring out of it. The world is a vast space in pairs, on one land carries intelligent people full of doubt upon their wand of wisdom, and on the other side where stand the stupid people ready to fight with an ironless sword.

Salagor: Is it necessary? the golds are not enough for us to do that.

Then there is the doubt of the wise wide mouth of a man. Plenty it may seem to be for an ancient battleship to be reinforced in one snap, not even a pile of a penny to be replaced for it, he thought. Swords of thousands can correspond. They stood up of the seat covered with dust left their rear, an outmost curiosity, the answer for another historical possibility. Since the Female, the sword of his black castle is gone out to do her duty, all calls and words are considered to be neglected.

Blacken the interior, cold snap grows smaller. Shadow cast grows tall behind the bearded elder. He is walking slow, undemanding footsteps across the plain. The old man keeping a straight face from the chuckle he made, then whispered.

Master Morken: The Gods are determined brave butterfly.

Then he ordered him to go away, a time to rest for them, a time to rest for him. Slow like his step, no terrors but a steady link of stare. He gazes upon them, the cold that never ends crawls to his feet, no fright, not until it crawls. From the end of the black warm room, he stares and the grip of his staff made the light come shining, will bring all matter to a stop, his image will cast a light too terrible to behold. However, when faced with the challenge of chaos, the forces of the unknown or the tales of the under whilst known, his primordial light bursts forth, and before his eyes, his full power is going to be revealed.

Salagor rushed through the stairs down to meet Akeleyde, the cold is seemingly chasing behind his plates. The statue of the Five ancient giants as if they are alive, chasing a glimpse on the man which obeyed the living one. Living at the magical emblems and so often did his sifting trigger the wrath of guardian entities, that he finally found it necessary to carry out the orders.

Grabbing her wrist they made their way outside of the Castle, the others whom they expect to wait is gone. Open, widely open, the mist lays out as they go.

Akeleyde: Wha~What is going on, get off me!

Salagor: We need to get out of here Lady, at this time, for the first and last, obey me as the Master commands it.