Chapter 1 - Futile
A sea of souls drifted higher, gravitating their incorporeal bodies towards the shining gate above them.
The gate sat upon an ocean of spotless clouds, it’s open doors radiating a sense of peace, welcoming the tide of new arrivals. As each soul passed through the threshold, their energy dissipated no longer sensed by the entity watching from down below, hovering over a field of death.
The being longed to rise and approach the gate as its companions were. yet it could not. Shackles of fire bound it to the earth, the heat these chains exuded incinerating any soul daring to fare too close.
Inch by inch the being was further dragged away from the gate above.
Usually, the soul would accept its fate and be carried forth to its new destination. However, this time something had changed. The soul grew tired of the constant force of fate, he desperately desired to rise above to the place it had never tread before and bring an end to its eternal suffering.
With every fibre of its being the soul flexed its will slowly bearing down its power to resist the flames. Yet with each passing second, the being's soul was ripped apart from the force of resistance, only to regenerate an instant later.
Having one’s soul torn apart was unimaginably painful, giving no indication of such torment the soul pressed onwards. Each ounce of pain fueling it desperate struggle. Memories of its fallen brother in arms, filling the soul with new motivation.
As time flowed by both chains and soul pulled harder, seeming to grow in power as they were ripped apart and rejoined.
An uncountable amount of time seemed to pass but neither the soul nor the chains gave notice, each focusing their entirety on their task.
Whilst the soul could not entirely break free of its shackles, the resistance did cause the speed of the process to slow down often forcing the course of their destination to alter.
Their contest of willpower continued without end, until one day the soul withered under the endless onslaught, the timeless struggle proving too much for it too bare against such inanimate flames.
Over the years of struggle, the soul had felt itself change little by little. Its mind seemed more clear capable of enduring far harsher punishments than when it had begun; towards the end, the pain which had plagued it, to begin with, was hardly felt unless actively focused on to ensure that it could still feel.
Yet despite the immense size and power of the soul, it stood no chance to resist the heavenly chain's will.
Looking down upon flames binding it, the soul felt something within wither, crumbling under the weight of fate; despite all its struggles, it grew no closer to its goal. The endless years spent resisting bore it no results not even considered a nuisance to the immortal flames.
The soul felt the darkness of helplessness approach, smothering it in its endless abyss. After the years of struggle, it could muster no more will to fend off this tide of despair. Letting the sorrow and powerlessness wash over itself the emotion began to fuse with the souls very essence.
knowing that should this continue it would forever be warped into an abomination, the soul reached deeper inside itself as it had so many times before. Mustering the energy it attempted to free itself from the endless sadness which encroached upon it.
Giving voice to its struggle, it released its endless abyss of despair for all to hear, the power the soul exploded with seeped through the planes of existence and into the mortal realm.
It's cry, reverberating through the land growing increasingly stronger with each second. The deep sadness etched into the voice echoed throughout the moral world, spreading outwards upon its search for relief.
From all around its origination, great forests held their breath as all animals stilled their movement. The agony contained within the being's voice scattered across the continent encompassing a large portion of the world, forcing all to tremble in fear not daring to disrupt the display of suffering.
High upon the Kaisic mountains, isolated from the rest of the mortal world, a creature woke from its slumber.
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Pov Change - Ires
I opened my eyes upon feeling the energy wash over me. My senses heightening themselves as my mind warned me of the danger afforded to a being able to release such a frightening soul blast.
My body filled with power as I rose from my perch, muscles, and scales flexing after long disuse.
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The magic in the air wove and bent to my will, as I conjured forth powerful shields encasing my lair. Runes flickered into existence strengthening my creation of protection, amplifying the power contained within.
Sleek black talons arched out of my limbs, their edge penetrating the stone floor beneath me. Preparing for a fight, a guttural rumble rose from deep within my chest, the essence of fire condensing around me ready to release my most fearsome attack.
Yet as I stretched my mind outwards, nothing presented itself before me. Void filling the air in wake of such a disturbance.
For 200 years I had slept, only to be awakened without anything nearby.
For a brief moment, I thought my imagination had got the better of me before I felt the earth tremble as countless of my brethren armed themselves for battle.
Never in the history of my kind had such a force bore witness to the world at the same time.
My kind slept for long periods of time, often never leaving our lairs. So whilst creatures of this world may fear us, few would ever have the honour of witnessing even one of my kind.
Now, however, countless of my kind rose from their sleep ready to breathe fire upon the world.
Before another second could pass a deep ancient voice echoed in my mind, halting any intention of leaving.
“Remain upon the spire...”
The power contained within that command made even one such as myself freeze in terror.
The implication this voice presented freezing my mind. An elder drake had woken, a being not seen for over 1000 years now walked the mortal plane once more.
I knew better than to disobey the command and so I releasing the shields back into the ether I dissipated my hold upon the Mana.
My body languidly returned to its perched position, however, my mind refused to rest as the winds of fate shifted once more upon this realm.
******
In the heart of the Algoran Kingdom, a council was taking place.
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Pov Change Sebastian
Sweat dripped from my brow as I examined the men present throughout the great hall.
The talks taking place could very well decide the fate of the kingdom.
“Silence!” the overbearing man seated upon the seat of Yonder, throne of the Algoran Kingdom, yelled in the cacophony of talks taking place.
Legend had it that the seat of Yonder was entirely constructed of Mythril, crafted by the dwarven masters of Hell Forge. As a personal gift to the Mage King, Xander VI, for saving the life of the Dwarven king’s only daughter.
Following the shout all present stilled, knowing full well the ruthlessness of the man above. Whilst each person seated was a powerhouse in their own right, wielding wealth and influence few could imagine. They knew that if they failed to heed the command it would mean nothing in front of this man.
Gabriel Fornheart XII current king of Algoran was known to have a quick temper which often placed the people around him facing fatal consequences.
My lithe, muscled body stretched to stand even straighter in the silence, trying to recreate the appearance of a perfect royal guard.
This was the second day of my enlisting as an official royal guard and already it was proving more taxing than the training I had been carrying out for the past 5 years. Nothing I learned prepared me for the sheer pressure contained within the room’s atmosphere.
At 19 years of age, I was a genius among my fellows when it came to swordsmanship, allowing my direct access to be recruited into the royal post.
The years of blood, sweat, and tears lead me to be able to stand where I was currently stationed, guarding some of the most powerful men on the continent.
My eyes drifted towards to the meetings, straining my ears to catch parts of the discussion.
“What do we know so far?” Gabriel asked the gathered men.
A middle-aged man dressed in regal clothing stood up to address the king and other council members. His voice was smooth and calm as it flowed out of the man alleviating some of the tension present.
“As we all know deep within the night, a mysterious shockwave scattered the kingdom. Reports from the relay towers suggest that the shockwave traveled far further than Algoran, and even encompassing the entire Helgen Continent. The full extent of the distance could not be measured as it exceeded the limits of the magical scrying formation.”
He paused a moment allowing the implications of his statement to sink in before continuing.
“The source of the shockwave is unclear, however, what is known is that a being capable of creating such an outburst of power would be classified minimum as a rank 7 heavenly creature.”
The people around took in sharp gasps at such a statement.
“Preposterous! An elder dragon not seen since before the creation of the kingdom is only a rank 6 being! Are you trying to propose something equal to a Royal Dragon King is the cause of such a disturbance?!”
The men began murmuring their agreement with commanders outburst. He was a large figure, with muscles bulging from every inch of his body, scars speckled across parts of his body visible to the meeting.
Before long an old man stood slowly, the noise in the hall fading with his ascent.
“Whilst I do not know the rank or in-fact what type of creature would be capable of demonstrating such a display of power. I can for certain say that the power possessed by the creature is enough to pose a serious threat to Algoran.”
After speaking the old man began to return to his seat. He was the Arch-Mage of the kingdom and few knew his real age. Rumors said he was an old man when the previous king was just born 80 years ago.
The Arch-mages magic had proven to be an indispensable aid during times of need. Furthermore, the knowledge he possessed was second to none, and the king often called upon his council in times of uncertainty.
Shifting my eyes back towards King Gabriel I saw him tense under the words spoke by the Arch-mage; Rarely had the Mage been wrong in his claims.
With the necessary decisiveness required by a king, Gabriel gave his order after listening to the council of men gathered.
"Gather the Mages and prepare the Knights order. We will send a force to search for the disruption and should it prove a threat to the safety of Algoran, then we shall exterminate it."
"My King, with all due respect I believe we should station the troops here and prepare the fortification. We do not know what we face, caution is advised in the face of uncertainty."
"My order is final." With tight words, the king glared at the man who dared speak against his order. Whilst he welcomed the advice of his council to make a decision, he would allow none to question it after voicing it.
With this declaration, the meeting which had already been going on for 4 hours came to an end.
I gulped at the idea of the Order and White tower both moving out together, only in times of war would these organisations be called upon, and in their wake, destruction would follow.
Change was upon the kingdom, whether it would prove ill fortune had yet to be seen.