The cerulean rays of the Illius lengthened across the golden field of the Aruemar Lowland surrounding the mountainous capital of the Elhyrissian Empire. Grass sprouted high and dangled east and north, west and south as the temperate winds swept through while the river melodically rutted as it sinuously headed inwards from the towering silvery gray embrace of the Draemons Mountains.
Though on the tenth day of Mhorombar in the 1259th year of the First Age, the wind carried a malodorous, bestial and sulfurous scent and finality instead of the aromatic floral, while its silence was broken by the clash of blade against the alloy thick hide of a minotaur, and the roaring of Albron’s mighty winged mount as it breathed flames of golden and crimson onto the crude and brittle forms of tainted golden which were the tribalistic caublorumus.
Colchiorh shadow prismatic shadow spread over the crimson golden charred remains of the caublorumus as triumphant bellow escaped his lengthened maw garnished with a glistening beaked chin while a branching crown of ever shifting shades grew forth from his prominent bony brow above his small, almond framed eyes of a deep golden crimson flame with a slit at its center.
His wiggling tail at the back with feathery decoration crushed through the body of the cowardly caublorumus aiming to strike while the dragon of the Heavenly House was drunken by the swift victory. Their crooked upper bodies shattered into hundreds of bloody and bony chunks as the tail thrice harder than any metal passed through them propelled by the instinctive potency of the mature dragon.
His long neck twisted east and west, his body rotated north and west as mighty Colchiorh confirmed the demise of the last of the caublorumus, then feeling assured and content, sat down in a feline position and patiently gazed as his towering comrade, head of the Draennith Praetoriir played in the shadow of the hulking minotaur clad in makeshift armor of bone and the hide of other beasts once aiming for its throne.
In its large, meaty hand a crude mace of wood and stone struck down at Albron who measured the same, though instead of finding its way through his soft and smooth flesh, it sent waves through the sturdy earth upon impact which furthered the anger within the bull-human hybrid with a forward curving horn of grayish black. Its black pearled eyes narrowed, chiseled his hoofed feet against the earth before it sprang towards Albron with a deep bellow.
Its black and golden white fur rustled as the temperate wind swept through it while the earth trembled beneath Albron’s feet, though he still gazed calmly at the slowly blurring form of the Minotaur rapidly approaching. Even in his ebony angular plates of numerous asymmetrical segments, he easily bent his torso down letting the large piece of stone fastened to the log cleave through the air while his free hand reached palm facing the earth keeping his own muscular form from stumbling over.
With a bit of arkhaine aid, generating a strong gust of wind while pouncing his palm from the harsh touch of the earth, Albron straightened his posture then leapt over the Minotaur’s dim horns while he swung his burning blade into the massive, broad shoulder. Blood spew forth into his fetching bearded visage tainting his fair golden milk smooth epidermis in deep crimson nectar while his blade sunk deeper and deeper, severing muscle from muscle until the left arm of the bipedal beast fell off.
His clawed gauntleted fingers pinched his nose as they were assaulted by the pungent odor of scorched flesh and bone permeating the air while a minor headache born in his head amidst the intense scream of the Minotaur.
Eyes focused on the beast, Albron stretched his free arm towards the beast and mockingly beckoned the it as it silently boiled with anger, once more chiseling, excavating the earth beneath its hooved-feet. Then it charged at him with great speed, though it tumbled halfway through when the earth shook beneath its feet while thick walls rose to the same elevation of its thickly furred knees.
Its massive form lost its balance and curled and hurled towards Albron while its one remaining hand released its grasp of its makeshift weapon that flew through the air and landed amongst the gilded foliage of the Lowland. Albron watched not too mused then stepped to the left unceremoniously while his blade passed through the muscle-bound body of the Minotaur like butter.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Just as he predicted from measuring, the sharp end of his blade crossed through the vast neck shattering bone and parting muscle and skin while in another swift motion, he grabbed onto the nearest horn and held the head in the air above the ground while the lifeless body hurled a few more meters along before it halted near the border of the forest where its blood formed a lake under the massive cadaver.
“Its all your my friend!” Albron turned towards his graceful winged mount who flew immediately into the air and down at the corpse like a majestic vulture. His golden crimson flames engulfed the cadaver, ridding it of the not so appetizing fur while roasting skin and flesh. Then with an inhale, the flames returned to his gaping maw followed by his claws tearing flesh from the corpse.
As the tantalizing smell of roasted minotaur reached his chiseled long nose, even Albron began to harbor desires to feast on the corpse whilst he held the severed head. “Maybe some other time.” He murmured while watching Colchiorh merrily began his feast.
Though the moment parted fast as he felt a cold scorching on his wrist and felt thoughts not of his own seeping into his mind, informing him of a sudden meeting petitioned by Mirayroth himself.
**
Aurelithae circled around in the center of her room lit by the filtered warm amber golden light of the Illius. Her steps muffled upon the newly gifted carpet she received from her distant uncle and consuliar of the eastern islands of Vhalleryon.
Its mostly alabaster round form laid in contrast to her blackish burgundy floor of glossy, neatly welted together planks of wood harvested from the lush forests of the main island of Caesselis Archipelago. The tasseled trims themselves merged in with the floor itself while close to the edge, serpentine wingless dragons of the east and oceans belonging to the House of Tides twirled behind each other, slowly approaching the center where the Illius slowly shifted into its dusky form from which the alabaster spread across most of the carpet.
Following and at the same time also framing the spiraling dragons were the curious and mystical glyphs of east embroidered in a deep reddish and mauve shade, with each letter spelling out a part of a short poem written by a forgotten poet to their muse who were taken by the Grimm Sovereign centuries, eons before the races migrated to the promised plane of Elhyrissian as she learnt it from her erudite handmaiden, Akaerith.
The reason for her circling on the recent gift though wasn’t to kill time or to enjoy the soft brush of the fabric, but it laid on the curious object, the black tome which hardcover were hewn or embroidered from some peculiar feeling hide or wood.
When she first laid eyes on it in the vast library of the Radiant Keep, it appeared to be made from the former as it gave a sensation akin to when Albron let her caress the refined hide of one of their dragons, though now it felt more akin to the sensation of her naked feet pressing onto her room’s floor. The confusion itself though erected from the fact that when she touched it, it felt neither, nor anything she touched ever. Not even a coldness or warmth which usually seeped into the former.
On top of that, she even noticed the darkness which dyed it completely – even the pages – seemed to swirl, tremble and move as Aurelithae placed her hands on the smoothly arched spine lacking letters, runes or numbers usually found on tomes and grimoires.
The only thing that seemed a certainty was that it was a grimoire, simply from the fact that upon touch she felt voidness solidifying in her anima veins, filling her with a strange confidence that she could not only create fire, abiding to the laws set upon it on the dawn of all creation, out of nothingness by forcing her will upon reality, but could easily hurl herself across space and time, not just within the confines of Elhyrissian, but even the dead planes the races migrated from so many centuries before.
The other minor fact that proved its arkhaine nature was when Aurelithae held it into the light of the Illius, the air around the tome began to blur, while translucent shadows lunged out and seemingly devoured the miniscule particles of the Illius.
Aurelithae’s prismatic draconic eyes glued upon the tome resting atop her desk in the shadows, within herself she wrestled against her desire to open the grimoire, knowing many who fell to the mephitic temptations of Infaernius, to the chaotic promises of Umvraothius, the apathetic offers of Aydvroeghius. Yet she could not wrestle against her curious nature – and to the silent whispers – and walked calmly and grasped the grimoire while reassuring that it is for the greater good of the realm.