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ASHES OF TWILIGHT
CHAPTER SIX - TRAILS OF SORROW

CHAPTER SIX - TRAILS OF SORROW

- I HAD A DREAM...... BUT I LOST IT.

I HELD YOUR HANDS........ AND I LOST YOU.

SPARE HIS LIFE MY LOVE.

WHY ELSE DO I HAVE MINE ?

MY BLOOD WILL BATH THE STARS.

IN YOUR NAME.

- A LOYAL WARRIOR

Reality reasserted itself behind Urghut the collector, he felt the strings of the shade gate draw away from his skin, and sighed. The bone chilling cries around his wrist resumed. For a while, he had led himself to believe he was free.

Urghut the collector spat on the ground, he whispered a prayer to the everlasting Herald, serving him bought him peace, for the course of the universe had shifted, yet few were aware, everyone going on with their miserable existence...existing by the Heralds grace... truly ignorance is bliss.

That was the true power of the herald, even the most monumental of task was a slight stumbling block to his omnipotence.

Black abyssal flies circled his beards as he annoyingly brushed them away, his fell hound yawned beneath him, the journey has been long, but this trusty mount has never disappointed him in all the planes he has travelled...

By the Heralds mercy, this expedition __it had been very fruitful.

He looked at the chest strapped at his side, by the Heralds grace, a pure soul that had once merged with a divine being of such calibre! Even he feared to confirm his suspicion. Urghut was known for many things, lack of curiosity was not one of them...

He was not really privy to all the details of that earth shattering battle that just took place, but an enormous dark field that could blind all the lords of the abyss was in place by the will of the Herald. In fact this was his primary mission, it was miraculous that he could even guess a smidgen of truth of what transpired. Also from the benefits that were handed to him, he had a few hypothesis, but all drew deep chills from some hidden corner of his soul. The part where all the bad things slept... that place filled with damp and rot, and the sorrows of lost hope.

He caressed a set of bracelet around his wrist, they were made of extremely tiny screaming skulls, closer observation would paint a grim picture for it was made of millions of skull. Blood poured from their eyes, they appeared to be weeping tears of blood and held enough pain that could fill an ocean__a sacrifice he made to the Herald. That was worth it... Worth all the pain and madness.

He listened to the screams everyday, they lulled him to sleep in restless nights.

It was said the Herald choose his servants for their ambitions __abilities to carry a world in their heart. Scouring the world of dreams of the collective minds of all sentient in the universe, to see who was worthy to be bestowed his grace.

Urghut was proud for never failing his masters trust.

When the herald came to him in his dream and stated his decrees, he could not have known the enormity of the benefit to be obtained. The price for such a unique soul should be able to push him to at least a minor orisha if sold to a high god of any other plane... a pity, he was not that stupid. The warlocks of the red spire should pay well enough...after all those mad creatures were always pursuing the secrets behind the divine...

He drew in a long harsh breath spoiled by the miasma of despair and hellish heat, this world was forcefully merged into the abyss, the inhabitants that survived the fusion would wish they did not.

His ori told him this world was beautiful once. Located in a barren area of the universe, the pitiful essence that this world had conceived had all being consumed by the weak gods that were birthed by her...orisha who should have conquered more plane and add to the world’s growth.

It was the same story in many young worlds, minor orisha drunk on their seemingly omnipotence entering the eternal battlefield only to be cannon fodder, the few who survived the initial culling, wings clipped, join the various principalities in the universe under unfair contracts, some choose to run, wander the cosmos still chasing for more power.

Abandoning their mother, for the ephemeral taste of true omnipotence.

The orishas of this world appeared to have taken that path. They had fled this world, leaving it without hope, now her final dignity was stripped away, a pitiful bitch now being raped to death by the abyss.

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The event earlier had shattered the moon, so powerful was the ripples of that battle and the emergence of that creature__He shuddered, it passed through the shade gates to affect reality. Something he had thought impossible.

He could imagine the confused anger from the demon lords of the abyss as their prize was destroyed unexpectedly.... Enormous debris were approaching the planet, the entire horizon was covered with the glow of the pieces of the moon. They should not have been this close, not yet at least, but the abyss was a greedy plane.

Light reflected from the debris forming a beautiful corona around the plane. Her beauty achingly revealed one last time before everything was to be lost.

His mount chuffed beneath him, making him look ahead at the horizon, black specks dotted the ground, he was approaching the encampment of the warlocks, digging into his waist pouch he bought out a set of beads, he pulled out one bead from the set, the bead strangely passing through the string without breaking it, that bead he crushed, no one was foolish enough to approach a red warlock without announcing their presence, even though they undoubtedly knew of his arrival far before he approached their encampment. Or so they may have thought.... Urghut had not being able to live this long without picking up a trick or two, patting his hound on the head , he came to a stop, a few dozen metres from the camp.

A group of riders on armoured lizard came over... he was soon surrounded. the leader of the group waved a glowing wand around him and his mount. An ever increasing higher whine emanated from the wand and soon it started to smoke as it grew red with heat, and with a sputter it finally died. Sweat broke out from the brows of the inspector. The wand could detect artifacts of power that could threaten the camp, optimally it should be clicking, that was expected for a merchant that travel the planes, that was enough power to keep them safe from raiders and abominations seeking their precious cargos, and perhaps even hunt for bounties when they came across such opportunities.

A low drone was a concern, it represented formidable powers of at least a half divinity, a higher sound was enough power to scour their entire camp filled with powerful warlocks a few times over, for the wand to emit such high shrieks, and fail? What level of destructive potential did that entail?.... That realisation not only dawned on the leader but all his men, as swords were drawn from their sheath and arrows nocked, mystical energies crackling from the weapons.

Surrounded by gleaming steel Urghut kept a visage of nonchalance...he calmly drew a pipe, and poured a foul smelling substance inside, each of his movement being tightly watched by the men, their nerves so tight, a little jolt would snap it.

snapping his fingers, flames coalesced from his index and he set the pipe alight, he sucked on it like a pacifier, drawing deeply for far longer than normal, his eyes scrunched tight with pleasure .... the riders were going insane with anxiety, eyeing their leader for clues, being next to the dwarf was akin to dancing in front of a raging inferno, while being doused with dragon saliva, they wanted to be as far away as possible. These were hardened mercenaries who had fought, bled and died on dozens of worlds, nevertheless their self preservation instinct were practically screaming.

The dwarf finally released his breath, a shameless moan escaping with it, a seemingly inexhaustible pillar of grey smoke came of his mouth and rapidly spread around him, dispersing in his vicinity in a supernaturally speedy manner. The leader of the rider was shaken from his paralysis but before he could yell any other instruction, his men and mount summarily collapsed in a daze, all fast asleep.

Urghut laughed, “amateurs." His hound slinked around the dozing bodies and entered the camp.

There was six humongous tent arranged in a semi circular format...planted in the middle was a flag, urghut observed it was made from the skins of infants of this doomed plane. The skins from their face and upper part of the torso, had been forged into the macabre waving flag, winds whistling through the holes in the flag which sounded like the soft cries of babies. Urghut turned away and looked towards the biggest tent in the dwelling.

The camp was in a calculated panic, the warlocks guard setting defensive formations and mounting Road blocks. Dismounting, Urghut walked through their midst, each of them so tense, sweat was liberally being squeezed from their pores. Word should have gone out by now, and they realised who they were dealing with, he walked slowly to the biggest tent in the clearing, stowing away his pipe.

Urghut paused at the side, a little away from the camp, were chained natives, they were a sizable bunch in their hundreds. His hound had strolled over, interested in them and after sniffing, backed away and sneezed hard, Urghut frowned as he noticed the reason.

Fitted around the necks of the natives were life leeches, nasty creature that feeds on pain and in turn delivers life force to the host in an uneven exchange, small cuts were healed at the price of making you feel pain as if you were flayed alive.

It was mostly used on slaves to survive harsh conditions, this was no mercy however for the pain inflicted by the leeches as they fed was great. These natives were to be kept alive for more horrible treatment from the red warlock for either his amusement or for experiments.

They were too weak to survive the abyss and the life leech kept them alive, and also preserved a modicum of their sanity... Urghut observed their feet, they should have been walking for some distance, for their feet were burned and lacerated, even the life leeches could not heal them fast enough... behind them were trails of blood. A trail of sorrow.

Urghut watched a native crawling slowly through piles of body, painfully adjusting the chains around her waist, she moved from one companion to another. Curiosity stoked, Urghut extended the breadth of his ori and listened in, she was consoling her companions- listening to their cries and lamentations, offering advice, giving hope.

Urghut noted the uncommon event for a while, and eventually turned away disinterested, the abyss has grinded even resolve of gods to dust.

A tall hooded figure appeared beside him, quietly observing the natives, especially the female.

Craning his neck, Urghut says “ nice to meet you again red-one”

“Likewise." A deep baritone voice resonated as the figure crouched. Stretching out a pale hand and gesturing to the shackled slaves, he said

“ beautiful, isn’t it?"

“For you. But peer enough into shit and you may begin to see diamonds. let’s chat inside, I have something that should highly interest you."

The hooded figure rubbed hands together in excitement, hands with too many digits. "an evaluation of high interest from you collector has stoked my curiosity. Come inside."