In the land of Evans, many ages come and go, leaving much forgotten. Memories twist into legends and much that was once history becomes no more than myths. The shadow of the past, long buried under the countless stories, is about to resurface again.
The dark lord will rise again and cloak the world in darkness. Such is the intention of Jakkir Mellior, the last descendant of the dark lord Shaitan. He intends to free the dark lord from the shackles of Sharapao. He is now heading for the seal itself, journeying through the harsh tundra of Marityur.
Jakkir’s cold-blue eyes scanned the desolate tundra around him, his cloak beating at the strong gusts of cold wind. The moon loomed overhead, casting its light upon the frozen wasteland that streched out endlessly around him.
Jagged rocks protruded from the ground, their tips sprinkled with snow, and a few naked trees dotted throughout the snowy landscape. A bone-chilling mist hung in the air, obscuring most of the surroundings.
Jakkir let out a deep sigh, “This won’t be easy,” he muttered as a few shivering men emerged from the mist, their cloaks marred with snow while Jakkir’s own cloak was spotless. The company looked miserable in the cold, hugging themselves tightly. They had been travelling with him for many months now. Many lives were lost , many were injured , others were sick , yet , they had kept going.
A hooded-man wearing a green cloak stepped forward before bowing to Jakkir. The rest of the company followed hastily, trembling from both the cold and also fear.
Jakkir made no expression and said, “Captain Kalin, you have done well. Tell your men that we are at the final stage. The seal of Sharapao must be close,” his voice unwavering and full of command.
The captain bowed again before waving to the company. Jakkir started to walk, followed by the rest of them. His cloak swirled as he walked through the snow, making no imprint on it. Their legs were begging them to stop, yet they kept going. Eventually they reached an area surrounded by leafless forests to their sides. Faint howls could be heard in the distance, while the snowy land gleamed under the influence of the moonlight.
The captain thought he saw something moving in the depths of the forest. He was not sure if he should report his sighting to Jakkir, for there was quite a high chance that it was simply a wild elk. Moreover, Jakkir looked like he was deep in thought, stroking his chin as he walked. It would probably not be wise to report it to him at the moment.
‘I am so close,’ Jakkir thought dreamily. ‘At last, I will free the dark lord. I must, otherwise I will never have the power to save Kiran.’
Jakkir stumbled as he thought of her. The company exhanged nervous glances. They had never seen him do that. He was always so composed. Even Kalin raised a brow.
‘I promised to save her,’ Jakkir thought as a large expanse of a frozen lake stretched out in front of him. ‘But what if I unleash something I cannot contain? But I need this power! Is there really no other way?’
He suddenly stopped, leading the company to freeze in place. They hoped that he was not angry. Kalin had previously earned a scar from Jakkir’s rage but the company had not been so lucky. Jakkir had slain a few of them out of pure frustration.
Jakkir looked down, his back bent with grief, and produced an emerald ring from his pocket. ‘I promised her’ he thought as tears formed from his eyes. He remembered the day Kiran had given him that ring. The day before they parted, the day before he lost her. ‘I must do it. I must release him.’
The company sighed in relief as Jakkir started to walk forward, towards the frozen lake. Jakkir walked through the sheet of ice, his composure tightened again. The rest followed hastily, some of them slipping on the ice. “Silence!” he said hoarsely, picking up an isolated arrow that was stuck on the icy lake. “We are not alone.”
Murmurings ran through the company as Jakkir inspected the arrow, squinting his eyes. He sniffed the tip, clearly smelling the hint of poison. He also noticed that a leafy end was attached to the arrow instead of feathers. ‘I recognise these. But where have I seen them before?’
Flashes of memories drifted through his mind, reminding him of a burning town and mindless people running about the streets with spears and bows. In the midst of the chaotic memory, a vision of an emerald ring also flashed in his mind. He fingered the emerald ring in his pocket, “This must be connected to Kiran’s fate, in one way or another,” he muttered grimly.
“Captain!” he called out. Kalin answered the call almost instantly. “Send a few men to scout the leafless forest beside us. I believe we are dealing with a deadly group. And I believe that they have been following us for quite a while.”
The captain gave a stout nod before ordering two men to scour the forest. They agreed rather reluctantly but they also knew that refusal meant death. Hence, they scurried off towards the forest quite quickly.
The captain finally reported what he had seen. “You could have told this sooner,” Jakkir said rather harshly. “Anyways, you have a good eye. Make sure to inform me when you see anything like this again”
The company’s mutterings grew quite a bit. Some of them wondered about the arrows and who was following them, while others discussed the strange behavior of Jakkir that they had seen lately. They had never seen him so soft and vulnerable. Others were simply hungry and wanted to know when they would rest and eat.
They started to move once again, the cold increasing every passing moment. Jakkir grew increasingly anxious as he continued however, he did not show it in his face. The company were quick to notice however, increasing their murmurings. A few of them flinched when Jakkir almost slipped on the snow, but Kalin caught him quickly.
Jakkir regained composure before ordering Kalin to lay his hands off him. ‘I cannot let myself be carried off by these personal thoughts. I must be more composed in front of the men.’
The company was so surprised by his sudden fall that they just kept staring. At this point, they were very sure that something was off.
“Shh!” Jakkir hissed, signalling them to stop. “You hear that?”
Doom Boom. Doom Boom.
The faint sounds of drums echoed through the air, sending shivers down their spines. Only Jakkir made no signs of concern.
Doom Boom. Doom Boom.
‘What the hell was that?’ Jakkir thought, stroking his chin but also making sure that no sign of fear was visible on his face. ‘Maybe I should turn back. Maybe it isn’t worth it. But I have to.’
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“Look out, sir!” the captain called out as an arrow whirled through the air and pierced Jakkir’s chest. The captain drew out his sword, followed by a few of the company running away, screaming as they disappeared into the dense mist.
The captain gasped as Jakkir smirked, before plucking out the arrow, revealing no signs of injury. “The Parash clan,” he said grimly, looking at the arrow that had a leafy end instead of a feather. “We have to move, now! Captain, lead the rest of them out of here. I will deal with this slimy folk mys- .”
The words were cut off as many men weilding axes surrounded them and the rest of the party. Arrows still rang in the air, often making a mark among the company’s men. Kalin immediately sprang into action, swiftly hewing the head of one while narrowly dodging the swing of another man. Jakkir simply stood there, watching Kalin take on the group of men.
One man disarmed Kalin with a swift movement of his axe hilt. Kalin countered by driving his pocket knife through the man’s chest. The last person threw himself against Kalin, knocking him over. With a grunt, Kalin cracked his neck with his bare hands.
Blood drenched the snow, shouts and clamors still come from the depths of the forest. “I will take it from here, captain Kalin,” Jakkir said, helping Kalin up. “Now get out of here, before more come!”
The captain gave a nod, “Good luck, sir. It was a pleasure servin-“ The last words cut off as two arrows pierced his chest. He dropped on his knees, his eyes widening, before falling on the ground lifelessly.
Jakkir stood there for a moment, indifferent to the arrows striking near him like a hailstorm. A waste of a great man he thought, before turning his attention to the attackers. More arrows pierced his chest but he plucked them out indifferently. ‘Let them come! I will deal with them myself. Nothing can stop me now. I must save Kiran.’
From the white curtain of the mist, materialized a group of people with wooden bows. They were shirtless and wore nothing but their woolly pants. Their eyes were flaming red and all of them were bald. They kept shooting at Jakkir, who did not even bother to pluck the arrows anymore.
He closed his eyes and raised his hand upwards. Clenching his fists, he muttered “Ashrath Khanui Bharai Rashiya!”
In an instant, the people erupted in flames. They flailed around helplessly while Jakkir watched them burn with a smile. The entire company had ran off, leaving only him and the dead captain to still be there.
He lifted his arms, tearing apart then ground beneath Kalin. The ground consumed the lifeless corpse before it was covered by more snow. “Rest in peace. The best captain I have ever had.”
He plucked out the rest of the arrows before continiuing his way through the frozen lake.
His eyes widened as he spotted a gigantic rock jutting out of the frozen lake. It towered over him, its rough texture mignled with mosses and strange carvings. It looked older than everything around it, and the very air around it felt ominous as if to warn of an impending danger.
“I am here at last,” he said, his voice wavering. His hands trembled as he touched the rock face. ‘I am coming, Kiran. I am coming to save you. They can’t trap you in Ashrath forever.’ With a deep sigh, he produced a small-golden plate from his cloak and fitted it onto a carving etched on the rock face. The plate fit perfectly, making a soft Click sound.
In an instant, the mist thickened, the shriek of the wind grew and thunder reverberated through the air. Jakkir closed his eyes before uttering the words, “Ashrath Khanui Jorra Maga Nash!” . He emptied his mind of any thought and formed an image of the golden plate in his mind.
He took slow, deep breaths as he started the ritual. With each syllable of the sinister hymns, the mist thickened and started to swirl around him. Uncertainiety and conflict knawed at his mind, taunting him to stop yet, he kept going. The consequences would be too dire if he failed.
The image of the golden plate started to vibrate, making the real ground beneath Jakkir tremble violently but still, he kept going. He poured all his concentration onto the golden plate. But conflict crept in like the shadow of dusk, ruining his concentration.
The golden plate’s image erupted in flames, slowly melting. Jakkir’s screams filled the air as his mind prickled with agony, seared by the molten fragments of the plate. He felt as if is very skin were burning, charred by the molten gold of the plate. ‘I cannot let this fail! I must do something!’
“Ahsrath Jorra Maga Yunash, Lirron. Lirron!” he cried out desperately, fighting to maintain his focus, the vision of Kiran driving him on.
The molten fragments of the plate whirled around his mind intensely before joining together to materialize into the shape of a boar head. Jakkir couldn’t bear this pain any longer. He thought he was about to pass out, but in that very instant, the turmoil ceased altogether.
Jakkir opened his eyes and immediately checked his skin. It was not charred at all! It showed no signs of injury or harm. Jakkir sighed with relief but his mind still felt burdened. He looked up to find a translucent gate materialize on the rock face. ‘He is coming! This is the final stage. I hope I have not unleashed something too powerful to contain.’
From the gate emerged a figure. A figure tall and imposing, it was surrounded by a cloak of darkness and shadow, his form barely discernible. His movements were fluid and ethereal. He did not disturb a single speck of dust as he gilded across the ground. His cloak swirled and twisted with a life of its own. This was Shaitan, the dark lord of the 4th age of Evans. He was shackled by the late Forsis Nevera after a battle that shook the world. After being trapped inside the Seal of Sharapao for so long, he was ready toshroud the world in darkness once more.
Jakkir knelt down, sweat trickling from his forehead even in the freezing cold. ‘There is no turning back now’ He thought, his heart racing. ‘I must face the consequences.’ He regained his composure before saying, “Welcome, my lord. Your presence honors me, my lord.”
The mist swirled around intensely. The ground trembled under him. Jakkir waited for a reply, his heart pounding against his ribcage, but none came. The dark lord took in a deep breath and proceeded to laugh in a quiet but melodic tone, one that sent shivers down Jakkir’s spines.
“The true lord of Evans returns!” he declared with his rhythmic-deep voice. “Let the world tremble once more at the might of my wrath!” Shaitan turned his gaze towards Jakkir and proceeded to smile.
“And you, must be my liberator,” he said, smiling sinisterly as his voice echoed through the dense mist. “Fair enough. None dared to free me from that horrid place. Not even my most loyal followers. But you, you unshackled me. So tell me, why? Why did you free me? Was it out of fear? The lust for power, perhaps?”
Jakkir hesitated for a moment. His heart was pounding fast. ‘It was love’ He thought to himself. ‘But I must not let him find out my true intentions. I must hide it.’
Freeing his mind off fear and anxiety, he rose up.“My lord,” he started with a smile. “It is not out of fear or the lust of power that I have come to free you, but out of the sole intention to rekindle the glory of your former empire. I come here not out of ambition but to restore our rule over Evans and to honor the legacy that was entrusted to me.”
Shaitan stared at him for a moment, increasing the tension in his mind. His clenched his hands, waiting for Shaitan’s answer as his palms began to sweat.
“Your answer suffices, for now,” Shaitan said, but his expression betrayed his statement. Then, he let out a smile. “Henceforth, you are my servant. I entrust you with the power of Ashrath”
Jakkir knelt down with relief. Shaitan laid his hand upon Jakkir’s head. It sent chills through his blood, raising the hair on his body. He wanted to jerk his head away, yet he knew what would happen if he did.
Shaitan muttered a few words and removed his hand from his head. In an instant, Jakkir’s head felt light again. He rose up slowly.
“As my servant,” the dark lord hissed. ”You shall obey everything I say. Do otherwise and you will face the consequences. Remember, you have but a fraction of my power and any action against me will be answered for. For now, this is your task. I command you to lead the forces of Ahsrath to battle.”
As soon as the dark lord had finished speaking, Jakkir automatically repeated the phases, “I serve shadow. I serve the dark. I despise the light.”
He kept on repeating this phrase dreamily before he just stopped. His mind felt burdened again, as if something else was there. ‘He has done something to my mind’ He thought, not looking at Shaitan. ‘I think he has planted a seed of corruption. One that will soon control me completely.’
He looked out into the distance, the mist had disappeared. The sun rose from the red horizon, its shine gleaming on the city of Jakarta in the distance, the musical chuckle of Shaitan ringing through the air