Mironov arc
Prologue chapter
*******
Some plains, somewhere. Plains where a battle is taking place.
From an outsiders’ perspective it would seem that the ones on the right, protecting the large, green, vivid, lush forest would be losing, solely based on their numbers. While the ones on the left, while they do seem to come from a similar environment though not as lush, are winning. It seems as though the plants are slowly dying from disease and the plants on the left are flourishing beyond comparison.
From an outsiders’ perspective, greed and jealousy would seem like the main reason for this battle and it probably is.
Both sides have the same distinctive features: tall straight builds, green clothing which can only be separated by its shade, long blonde hair which creates difficulty to discern between man or woman, and long pointy ears.
Both races are called elves. But the feature which is the largest difference between them would be their skin tone – the ones on the right had light colored skin and the others – light brown to dark brown.
Both sides have considerable numbers, but like said, the right one, the dark elf one is slowly winning, moving forward.
The hails of arrows; the fights, the duels taking place in the front rows; the massacres performed by the ones who ride beasts, animals, ones with gray, wild, muddied fur, ones with clean shaven white fur; blasts of blinding rays, both dark and bright, taking large amounts of lives.
The elves on the right side, the dark elves, seem to have scrounged up whatever beasts they could tame, while the ones on the left had carefully bred horses.
While from the side, this would seem nothing more than a collision of large masses of people, from the perspective of the ones who were active within the battle it was more lively than that.
Shouts of orders, battle cries, wails of beasts, death and despair echoed throughout the area. While the ones who were doing battle felt like they were noble warriors of some kind, to the ones who would watch from afar it would seem like nothing more than a drugged fight, fueled by hate, anger, pride and envy. The envy of those who were slowly losing their place to live, the pride of the ones who would call themselves noble knights, warriors, the anger of both sides at one another and hate, hate which made them abandon logical thinking.
At first, this may have been seen as a battlefield, but as the fight continued on the was nothing more left than those feelings. Nothing more left than blood and corpses of the dead.
The one to watch all this play out was but a devil. As the devils ranged largely in appearance, this one would resemble a human with a mask of a goat, a goat with 6 bloodshot eyes, which seemed to have never be able to calm down; 3 horns, while 2 of them curled up and pointed frontwards from the side and the 3rd, bent and pointed around the forehead to the back. The masks white fur, stained by dust pointed in three directions, like a triangle.
The devil calmly sat there, on the sidelines, watching the battle from a far. He sat on a simple black stool. That stool seemed to be nothing special, apart from the fact that it shined like a crystal.
He combed the hair on his face, the mask, the part where a beard would be and calmly read some sort of book. Four of his eyes focusing on the book and two focusing on the battle in front of him.
He was so focused on the book that even the two eyes watching the battlefield, which was nothing more than a simple slaughter to him, had sometimes wandered towards it.
Though the book seemed like nothing special, a diary of a child who liked to scribble things, he intently read it.
But the devil couldn’t understand it.
He was confident in his intelligence, in his knowledge on many things of this world, but this language which was written seemed to be completely different, different from this world.
He combed his beard more forcefully this time, yet the answer did not come, the answer on the meaning any of the words written in it.
In fact, he studied the book for a long time, a number of years he couldn’t even count on his fingers anymore, but nothing came to him.
He wanted to give it up and pass it off for what it was – child scribbles. But his curiosity was peaked. Every hour, minute or second of the time he was free from any activity, he would try to decipher it, but, this worlds language letters all had similarities to some sort of object, any object.
While he was a long lived and smart devil, with the nature of a dealmaker, a merchant, he was not particularly strong. All devils had jobs which they must fulfill and in term would be granted special prizes, payments of sorts, and he had spent them all on knowledge. Why would he fight directly if he can just use the right words and make others do it for him?
He was a wise devil indeed. And while he may not be very powerful, he still carried a good amount of influence in both this world and hell.
Thus he continued his efforts in deciphering it, but some abnormality caught his attention – the silence that descended all around him.
He raised his head from the book, the book with red covers. And although it was a children scribble book it was orderly kept, without scratches or marking of any sort and that was a factor which kept the devil interested. No matter how hard he tries, no matter what amount of brute force he puts towards the damaging of this book, it would not give in, as though the paper was harder and stronger than anything he had seen or heard of.
The scene in front of the devil was frozen in place. As though time had stopped. Nothing moved, the arrows, the swings of swords cutting down one another of the elves, their shouts of death and pain. Everything was frozen in place and only the sound of static surrounded him, as though someone was constantly crumbling pieces of paper.
The devil looked back at the book, but that wasn’t it. Though… No. The books drawings manipulated itself and started arranging in a proper orderly manner. It was as though the book had become alive.
Though this would definitely be an abnormality it didn’t worry the devil. It has done so many times before, in front of all kinds of massacres.
He stood up, closed the book and put it on his black, obsidian stool. His expression unreadable due to the fact that he couldn’t truly manipulate the mask.
And then, everything changed. It was as though the world started turning again.
The sky turned dark, without any clouds – a deep dark sky, full of glittering stars. Just looking at it would make you mesmerized, mesmerized from its beauty. The devil had never seen such a sky before, such a beautiful space full of glitter.
But what happened in front of him would be an another completely unseen phenomena – everything dropped. In a literal sense. It was as though the bodies of elves dissolved and turned into blood, mixed with dirt and ash, while the arrows and beams of light also turned liquid.
Three figures stood and both sides of the battlefield, while one, the most beautiful one, more stunning than the night sky the devil has seen in his entire existence stood on the opposite of him. The three figures, put their hands together as though in a prayer, their heads facing downwards to the ground.
The figure to the side of the lush forest was a being which had similarities to himself, but instead of being naked, he wore a black suit, one which would be fitting for a butler of highest caliber. The figure to the side of the dying forest wore black armor, which didn’t cover one of his arms, that arm being a terribly frail-looking one. The figure to the other side of the devil was a gorgeous beauty wearing a light red dress, almost like a gown.
The three figures pointed their arms upwards and all the mix of blood, dirt and ash lifted upwards as well. Then the mixture started curling into a ball a small ball, one would not know how it all could detract into such a state. It curled as though a vortex and after everything from the ground was gone the ball squeezed itself into nothing, at least in the eyes of the devil.
Although this scene taking in front of him would cause some sort of emotion to stir within the individual, the devil had no reaction at all. As though he was a simple child drawn by curiosity, he watched the scene take place.
The three figures started closing in towards the center, yet the devil did not move, just looking was enough for him. If he wakes up from this daze, maybe he could even get away.
He, the devil, was an intelligent being. And all the jobs, the events that took place until this one seemed to connect. He accepted the jobs, the jobs devils do for their masters, yet he was master less and was given them, given them by the highest order. The purging of people, of monsters and all sorts of beings, the reason for such jobs simply did not come to him. Devils, by nature, were dealmakers. They feed on the souls they manipulate so such purges were nothing more than wastefulness. But it was an order from the masters of hell, thus he could not decline.
As the three individuals finally came near one another, they bent and picked something up. The figure to the left, took out a precious looking pillow, seemingly embroiled in gold, from nowhere.
Whatever they took from the middle, they raised it gently and put it on top of the pillow. The two manly figures gave the pillow to the beauty in the middle and she vanished in thin air.
The devil pondered, why had they lifted that object, which was almost nonexistent, in unison.
Of the two who were left, the one to the left, the one who had the most similarity to him, fell to his knees, as though a massive weight was taken off his shoulders and his legs demanded rest.
But as though he forgot something, he stood up, dusted off his knees and went towards the devil.
The figure in black metal armor stood there and waited for the other.
The devils’ instincts kicked in. The one instinct, which should have been non-existent, fear, and he started stumbling backwards, even though the figure was still quite far off. The devil understood who it was, due to his extensive knowledge he should be the only one who knows who that is that’s coming towards him.
The devil started walking backwards, speeding up bit by bit, from steps that resembled some ants to normal ones. Even he knew that only he could understand his reaction, others would just wonder if they were teleported someplace else or things like that. But the fact remained that the landscape was still the same. Plains, which divided the two states of death and prosperity.
Just as the devil started speeding up and actually walking away, he noticed the book. The book that just sat there, completely in place. At times the devil would feel like the book was alive, no, he knew that the book was alive in one way or another. Maybe enchanted or something of the sorts, but especially whenever there were intervals between jobs, it would start vibrating, yet now it did not budge. He tried taking it with him, but it felt as though the book has increased in weight by an inconceivable amount or simply glued to the stool, but he could then just take the stool with him.
No, it was not that he could take it, he couldn’t move anymore. Just as he touched the book time seemed to have stopped. The proving factor for this would be that his object of fear, was now right in front of him.
In less than a blink of an eye, he closed such a distance. The devil blinked and stumbled back on his bottom. He tried to move away bit by bit, but the other side didn’t seem interested at all. The figure in front of him was a figure he was the only one to know about. Maybe there were some, but only he knew the true nature of it.
The figure was a demi human. A hobgoblin to be more precise. But a regular hobgoblin, even the devil would be able to take care of it. The factor which scared him the most was that he was a red skinned hob. His black butlers suit seemed to radiate elegance, unbefitting such a civilization-less race. The two pairs of horns protruding from his head were well-kept, almost silver, unlike the devil who saw his as nothing but a hindrance.
Red hobgoblins were champions of the goblin race. The main object of all the knowledge the devil tried to accumulate were on champions. In this world, even small fairy champions would possess an incredible amount of raw strength, but, a champion was only born once every hundreds of years, or was at least found after such amounts of time.
The devil wanted to know the answer why such individuals were born, how they were born. But instrumenting different kinds of births led him with having zero results.
The goat-face wanted to know more, but the saying curiosity killed the cat would be true at that point. Even if he was no longer curious he knew he will die here. And that did not mean he would return to the depths of hell, but simply disperse into nothing.
The hob butler picked up the devils’ book from the stool, just as carefully as the object he picked up before with his group.
He knew that his life would end. And thus it did.
The hob extended his hand towards the stomach of the devils’ human body and pierced with ease. The devil may have used several defensive abilities, items and whatnot but the ease of the pierce stunned him more than the pain.
As the goblin took out his hand, the devil noticed how long his hands were. The fingers alone looked double in size to normal ones, whatever you could call normal ones.
The devil could only talk through mental communication, but as fatigue assailed his body, he couldn’t use such an ability anymore.
He fell to the ground, still seeing the shoes that the goblin was wearing. Just as he thought the other party was walking away, he felt a burning sensation all over his body, as though he was melting to acid.
That was the last feeling the dying devil felt.
*******
“Done yet?”
“Of course.” The hobgoblin answered the black knight. “Ahh… So it is finally time huh?”
“Indeed. I am going to go clean up in the other areas while you go back with the book. I suppose that’s how we’ll go about it, right?” The knights metallic voice rang out under the helmet.
“Yes, of course. We can switch, though I don’t want that ugly hand touching the artifact… When are you getting rid of it?” The hobgoblin glanced at the frail arm on the left side of the knight with contempt. It was not covered by the armor and looked to be that of an old mans.
“It is not your decision to make.” The knight turned around and muttered some sort of words. “Alright, then I’ll see you later Drasil.” After his goodbyes, a black steed with two horns growing on its forehead appeared out of thin air. No, it formed from gas, smoke of sorts. The knight rode off with incredible speed towards the dying forest.
“Yes. Until later.”
*******
In a place almost devoid of existence, floats an island. Though saying that it floats is incorrect, from way high, up in the sky, near the clouds, you could almost see it move.
A huge tree sprouts from the center of the island. But though the tree seems to be lush, upon closer inspection, it would appear to be nothing more than intricately designed dirt, shaped into branches. From the branches, all kinds of trees, bushes, grasses and whatnot grow, almost like they were the trees branches.
The so called tree of dirt, has 3 stumps growing out of three corners of the island, shaping a triangle in the middle, beneath where it starts branching out into many, for a lack of a better word, branches.
The previously said hobgoblin, overlooks the island and the tree, right beneath the clouds, wearing his black suit, with a marvelous black tie and a pure white shirt.
He takes out a handkerchief, shines the two fangs which protrude from the bottom side of his mouth upwards, fangs that reach his nose, corrects his tie to give off a tidier look and descends straight down, towards the ground of the island.
Though it would seem he’s just indiscriminately descending, or falling, two bat wings protrude from the back of his suit. They do not tear the suit, though actually, there seems to be a small bat, tightly clenching whatever he can.
He fell swiftly. Fell to the ground, but descended lightly right before reaching the ground, creating a gust of wind.
The ground which he had descended on, would seem like a very old walkway, lit by tall lamps, with small fires flickering inside their glass containers. The walkway was made out of cobblestone, with moss protruding from its cracks. Though the cobblestone gave it an unkempt feeling, the sides of the walkway, where the cobblestone ended, were neatly trimmed, as though the moss mixed with the stones was carpet.
The view in front of him, was a dark forest, filled with many dead trees, which gently creaked with the wind, but the goblin, who had eyes which would be able to see in even darker situations, noticed that the walkway there was as orderly kept as here.
He turned around, and faced a barbaric looking house. Calling it a house would be disrespectful, it was more like a fortress.
Because the night was dark, very dark, the fortress was lit up by even more torches, though the torches radiated blue light. The safety constructions, like spikes protruding from railings around the watch balconies, were all golden, but probably a lot harder than steel. The railings and poles, holding the whole fortress together, were illuminated by the blue light of the torches, but if not for that, they would appear to be marble white, devoid of dust or any specks of dirt.
The bat detached itself from the back of hobgoblin and flew somewhere towards the forest. The being, which was now left alone, lowered his head, put his hands together, and silently closed his eyes.
He heard a loud creaking noise and thus raised his head, splitting his hands apart. What emerged above the staircase leading to the door, was a being which was similar to him, but gave off a very feminine feeling. The feminine person in question wore a gothic style red maid outfit, with a small ribbon holding her hair in a ponytail. Though she could be described as a beauty, her green, but smooth, skin, and small fangs protruding from the lower jaw gave her a feeling of a, well, weird beauty.
She was female hobgoblin. After emerging through the entrance, she bowed, though the hob she was waiting for, hadn’t moved yet.
The hobgoblin in question looked over the fortress, and saw several more figures, similar to him, but wearing different kinds of armor instead, bowing from the balconies as well.
He returned his gaze to the entrance, and set out towards it, up the stairs.
After reaching the female, he looked over her, her well-kept shape and clothes and for a moment he seemed like he would give in to his internal instincts, but after shaking it off, he said:
“I’m back, Lorra.”
“Welcome back, sir Borors.” The feminine voice of the hobgoblin named Lorra, was revealed and was just a delightful as her figure. She raised her head, revealing her smooth green face. Without any bumps or scars, she, just like her voice, could be called a muse. For some, even the most beautiful of songs couldn’t compare to the mixture of her serious but beautiful face and the gentle voice.
Borors, the hobgoblin, entered through the doors. What was revealed inside was awe inspiring to anyone who would witness it, from the highest class nobleman, to the scummiest of barbarians.
Passing through the door revealed a dreamlike mysterious world. It was a large corridor, held together by several columns, made out of dark wood, ornamented with many kinds of engravings. Behind the columns were several doors, all shining different kinds of lights from the middle. Though the walkway through the columns onwards was brightly lit, anything behind them was almost shrouded in darkness, just faintly making the floor visible, or else you’d mistake it for an abyss.
Borors walked onwards through the corridor, towards a door with a bright red light. Upon reaching it, the dark wooden door, it was visible that the light shone from a crystal of sorts.
The maid, Lorra, swiftly got between the hobgoblin and the door, and opened it. Borors nodded slightly in acknowledgement and entered what seemed to be his quarters.
The room was not as extravagant as one might expect. Apart from the bed there was nothing which might catch the eye, and that was the point. The man, who was seemingly in charge, had no interest in such things, but he did know their importance in some situations.
The room was a simple one, a desk with some drawers, a bookshelf, wardrobe and a bed. The said bed was covered in curtains which would only show the silhouette of the ones sleeping or resting. The most eye-catching part of it was that it was very well kept.
“I appreciate your efforts.” Borors said not turning towards the maid and went off to the wardrobe.
“Think nothing of it, it’s my duty.” The maid came over to his side and inspected him from head to toe. “What clothes do you think will suit you for this occasion, sire?” She said while in thought.
“You always choose these things for me, your tastes are better anyways.” He slightly rubbed one of his fangs and opened the wardrobe which seemed to shine light in comparison to the room. There were all sorts of clothes in it, from what would seem to be nothing but rags to the attire that most wouldn’t even dare to touch. It wasn’t a large wardrobe at first, but once opened it seemed like it stretched itself to unbelievable lengths.
“But… never mind… Very well, please sit down, I’ll search for something that wouldn’t, couldn’t disgrace you.” While Borors sat down on the bed, the maids’ serious expression turned even more serious and she searched through the wardrobe. She took out several attire, ones which gleamed brightly, ones who gave of a dark feeling and ones which didn’t even cover the body fully. But in the end she picked out something that was not very different from his previous clothes.
It was a suit.
Lorra stood Borors back up and proceeded to undress him. What was revealed was a well-toned, red skinned body, but Lorra paid as much attention to it as she would on something she’s seen thousands of times. Borors on the other hand appeared to be slightly embarrassed as he was fidgeting.
“Sire, please do not move, I’ll probably need to adjust the clothing, thus I need accurate measurements.” She said as though disciplining a child. She did not use any instruments, instead she just looked over him several times, squinting her eyes at times. “It would seem your physique has not changed.”
That was stating the obvious. Borors had several magical items which negated the need for rest or nutrition, though he understood the need to size him up every time, maybe there was a bump, or a slight wound of sorts that could change how the clothing looked. No, he didn’t understand what change of one millimeter could make, thus he just sighed and continued to stand still.
He was being dressed up carefully in mostly red clothing. And once everything was done he was brought over to the mirror to further size him up.
She looked over him once more and patted through every area where the cloth was uneven.
What Borors saw in front of him was clothing that could melt in to his red skin, a brown shirt and a hat. It was a cylinder hat which, in all honesty, made him look ridiculous.
“Is the hat truly necessary?”
“Truly, it makes you look a lot more fearsome, or just scarier, while still making you look a lot more respectable.”
Once she was done, she stepped to the side to let him see how he looked for himself. And indeed what she said was true, as far as he had seen, such clothing would express what kind of position he has.
“It shall begin soon.” Borors exclaimed while looking over his clothing, though the hat seemed to still not sit well with him.
“Once the island reaches land, right?”
“We’ll start earlier and it shall reach land by the time we’ll be done, thus make preparations for anything that might be necessary in the future.” He went away from the mirror towards the door.
“I shall go tidy up our treasury then. Good luck, sire.”
“Thank you.” He waved and went off through the corridor.
*******
Borors was escorted by several hobgoblins towards the center on the island. They didn’t pass any other building on their way, as the entire road to here was like a labyrinth, enclosed by tall walls. What they arrived at was a place which was made into a circular formation with a magnificent, 4 story fountain. There were no benches or anything of the like, just the fountain enclosed by a metallic railing fence.
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The railings were black, but they reflected the moonlight really well. The ground was made up of the same materials as everywhere else – mossy cobblestone, but still possessed the feeling of cleanliness and softness.
On the other side of brown bricks walls, in-between the veins of the labyrinth, there was nothing but several trees and clean, trimmed grass. The trees leaves were black, as though diseased, but considering there was no damage to those leaves, it couldn’t be that they were sick. In fact, they were very rare magical trees, which grew round fruits made out of an obsidian material of sorts. The fruits were called – black diamonds.
Sometimes, the ones who cleaned this whole area would pick the fruit and either eat them on the spot or save them for later. But these persons were nowhere to be seen and Borors knew the reason why.
“Thank you for your service, you may leave now.” With those words, the hobs behind him went back to the labyrinth. All of them were dressed in dark, barbaric armor, with furs and spikes sticking out of several places. They may have looked like every day goblins, but their stature was almost as tall as Bororses, which was rare for goblins. They also possessed red skin which indicated that they were champions of their race, which transcended limitations which they had.
Still, even this small number of them was too much for one to walk with through ones own and familiar domain. Carelessness kills even the most powerful individuals. Borors recalled these words in his heart and proceeded towards the entrance.
The said entrance was huge. Two huge doors stood in front of him, which were at least ten times his size. Above these doors was a dome, which pointedly shaped towards the center of the huge mud tree, which seemed like it was the heart of the whole island.
The doors had many, golden engravings of any kind. These engraving represented, at least in the eyes of Borors, the meaning of many things. There was an engraving of slaughter and next to it an engraving of prosperity. An engraving of love and the engraving of hatred.
While the doors looked to be made out of wood, no one who saw them would imagine that they were even moveable. But Borors, simply chanted “The glory of Mironov!” and they started opening with a creaking sound.
After chanting these words, it looked as though a feeling of ease assailed Bororses body. As though something waited, something which would make his existence a fulfilling dream.
Once the doors fully opened, the inside sparkled through. The whole area inside was huge. So large, that you could even fill in a prospering castle inside. But instead it sheltered rings of red water in its ground, with several bridges connecting the rings of black glass between the water.
The bridges and walkways towards the center were made out of gold underneath, with a transparent, almost glassy carpet on top. The carpet gave of a slight tint of sky blue, while there was gleaming gold underneath.
The dome, which covered the night sky, seemed almost none existent as there was small light illuminating the place coming from the top. If one didn’t look closer, they would think that what they passed before was but a wall.
In-between the rings, where there was solid ground, several columns were erected. These columns would be nothings special, if not for their length and size and the way it looked like they swallowed the surrounding lights. It looked as though those who would near them would be swallowed up with the light.
While Borors was contemplating all this something neared him.
“Hello Borors! Guess I’m not too late!”
The goblin face cracked a bit, as though annoyed or maybe even disgusted.
“Y-Yes…” He turned towards the other party. “Hello… It’s impossible to be late for anyone as we all have to be there for it to even begin…”
It was a tall cloaked figure, twice as tall as Borors, even though he was more than 2 meters in height himself. The cloak seemed to interest Borors as he looked over it and said:
“What’s with the cape?”
The figure leaned down, as though a board bent in half, to Bororses eye height and answered his question in a voice, as though muffled by some sort of pillow.
“Oh, but it’s such an occasion! Even you’re dressed splendidly!”
Borors self-consciousness surfaced as he remembered his cylinder hat and proceeded to hide his eyes underneath it.
“Is something the matter? Maybe you’re not feeling well? Now we can’t have that! We mus-…”
Borors interrupted him before he finished the sentence:
“No, no, no! It’s fine! I’m fine!”
Borors rebuked the figures words and straightened himself out.
“Oh, really? Good then! Visit the area I live in, once in a while at least, I have many things which will restore you back to health from any kind of state!”
This time the goblin showed a look of pure disgust and turned away from him, facing one of the bridges leading towards the middle.
“Heheh. I like that. All well and lively! “
Just as he was about to proceed, the figure let out those words, which were seemingly just to mock him.
“You sure enjoy reactions. Anyways what’s the point of dressing up if you’re going to cover everything with that rag?”
The figure stretched out one of its long arms, which reached to where its kneecaps should’ve been, towards it chest and pretended to be insulted in an exaggerated maner.
“Gah! I’ve wanted to surprise everyone! But I cannot let such nasty words go! Behold!”
The figure took the extended piece of cloth off or one of its shoulders and it revealed what was hidden.
“You probably should’ve kept it on…”
Its figure was as though several limbs were attached to a small square box. The legs of the body were like thin branches; in fact, they probably were branches. The upper part of it looked like it was missing its waist area, like said, a box, and a head with a mask. The head was wearing a long doctors mask and even though he let the cloak go, he still kept the hood on.
“Are you trying to imitate someone with that suit?”
Even though the figures limbs were thin and long they were clothed by long black pants, a black shirt underneath a black suit and a long tie. But, he did not wear any shoes, in fact, his feet fingers were ones like a chickens.
“Oh, but it’s a need to dress properly for the occasion!”
Borors turned towards the bridge again and started walking.
“Let’s just go, no point in trying to figure out your fashion sense.”
They both walked towards the center. Walked on the grassy blue and black carpet. To Borors, the carpet was so soft it felt like he was just gliding through clouds. No, clouds are incomparable to this feeling which can even be felt with shoes on.
As they walked through the walkway, an occasional column was near them. It was a spiraling column where water trickled down through the gaps into the soil below. Borors wondered how the water always stayed in those perfect gaps between the mud, but after thinking long enough he understood that such things were not for him to unravel.
Finally, the center. Both of them walked slowly and silently. The whole place was silent.
The structure in the middle looked like some sort of small chapel. It was a circular shaped building with a dome forming its roof, from which a tower protruded. The carpet looked like it went underneath the two doors and beyond.
“Well I say! We finally made it!”
Borors looked at the figure who spoke again, almost always when it was unnecessary. Thus he just sighed and put strength to his arms to open the doors.
Though the doors looked small, it seemed like Borors still put quite an effort into them.
And just like the inside of this big dome, the space in the chapel also seemed warped. In fact, it definitely was.
It sparkled with expense, in a literal way. The insides looked like no one other than an artistic genius would’ve made, something which could rival gods.
Borors definitely remembered the god rivaling part, but he did not understand why everything was so bright. It looked as though they put a sun to shine over all the statues which stood on each side like guardians, the benches made from magically imbued squishy obsidian, to ensure comfort now radiated more light than they took in. There were also several windows, which, from the outside, looked to be small in comparison. Borors was relieved that at least they were untouched.
There wasn’t much modification to this area, but it was still too much, as no permission was granted. This infuriated Borors ever so slightly, which made his eye brows twitch.
“Hmm, so they completed the preparations it seems.”
Borors turned to the figure next to him and with blank eyes slightly tilted his head to the side as if to enquire what the meaning of this is.
“Ah… So you weren’t informed… I wonder why.”
Borors rushed out forward towards the center of the chapel, where the tower should’ve been. But there was a small elevation with an altar surrounding a gleaming chair, a gleaming throne.
Borors was a bit relieved as there wasn’t any sort of modification done with the place most important inside the building. While that may be so, he was still angry, but he concealed his anger under a dead-pan-like expression, which hadn’t portrayed any sort of feeling.
As he neared it there was an another figure kneeling on both feet in front of the elevation. She was dressed completely in black, like a nun. The top of the veil was slightly pointed on two spots as though they were some sort of ears or a decoration underneath.
While he may have had a question which would either quell or fuel his anger, he stood still next to her without interruption.
He didn’t look at her long, as he faced the throne and bowed deeply for a couple of seconds, before discontinuing the action and facing the black robed figure again.
The cloth covered it entirely and didn’t reveal any features when looking from the side. The figure just kneeled there and whispered some sort of words, which even Bororses highly sensitive ears couldn’t hear.
When the figure was done it stood up and bowed for a couple of seconds in the same manner as Borors. Some of its hair slipped through the robes and it was even darker than the robe.
Then it proceeded to face Borors and revealed a pale white face. Well half of it, as the right side was completely covered by the black hair.
The face was definitely female, the uncovered red eye glowed brightly and had perfectly shaped eye brows, neither too thick or thin, and long eye lashes. The pale pink lips seemed to be the only feature giving off any warmth in her pale face.
“Hello Borors, I see you’re finally ready.” She opened her mouth, which revealed pure darkness, as though she was completely hollow inside.
“Yes… Hello Throna. I am ready, but can you explain whose permission you got to decorate the area?” Borors said, still with a completely dead pan expression.
“I see you’re angry, but the vote to decorate was majority, even while you weren’t here. And…”
“So you just thought it was alright to make changes to the interior? To the interior master created?” Borors interrupted her, slightly making his anger show.
“And, as I was saying… Master is a great being. If anything is to his contempt the ones who voted for the change will take full blame.” Throna continued, but seemed to handle her emotions better, even if it was ever so slightly.
“Using his title as such, are you becoming spoiled? Throna?!” His anger was showing more and more, as a pat on his shoulder seemed to cool him down, cooled him down so much that it sent a shiver down his spine.
“I understand your feeling Borors, but the lower minions asked us to push this as they wanted Masters resurrection to be successful, at least this time.” The one who patted his shoulder was the skinny figure from before. His tone of voice was a little bit less audacious than before and carried actual weight.
“What’s the point of this charade if it will not work?!” He let his feelings out and frustration on the hideous thing in front of him. “Huh?! Answer me!”
“Borors, that is enough. Not only are you being disrespectful, you’re acting like a lunatic.” The one to answer this time was a woman dressed similarly to Throna, instead she dressed in a red dress and didn’t cover her face. Actually she showed of more than she should.
One of her eyes were red, like Thronas’, but she had silver white hair covering the left eye instead. Her facial features were basically the same, except the part of her hair, which made her differentiate from her counterpart.
On the topic that she showed off more, it was her chest and basically more of her pale white skin. The dress made the top of her two hills look more apparent and larger than they actually were, but were still larger. The arms were completely uncovered except from the gloved hands. While the gloves seemed simple, they emanated a vicious aura, one which would make your eyes bleed just from staring too long. While she showed off a sexier manner, her counterpart, Throna, radiated a feeling of motherly warmth. While the nuns’ hair was left to sway with the wind, the others was neatly tied into a bun while still letting some hair run free down her back.
Borors corrected his tie and bowed slightly less than previously.
“Excuse me for my actions. As you said: you’re taking responsibility and I’ve got no right to complain.”
“Good! Now then! Let us wait for the others, as it seems we’re the first to arrive. How great!”
The one to break the awkwardness was the stick figure behind Borors.
“Yes. Smol is right.” One of them silently answered
*******
After they all bowed, they went ahead and sat down on one of the many benches that were in the area.
While the whole place was brimming with style and expensive looking decorations, the benches held absolutely no such things, they were crude and uncomfortable. Simple wooden benches.
Even with that, they all sat down in the most appropriate of positions. The only one to struggle was Smol, the marionette doctor. He continuously fidgeted in his seat, making everyone around him uncomfortable as well.
“Can you not just sit on several of them? You’re being a nuisance…” The one to let out his annoyance was Borors, while the two other ladies just sat quietly, but with slightly twitching faces.
“Worry not! For I shall find the perfect position!” He shouted out into the large, spacious interior, creating an echo.
After finally finding his position he just sat there and played around with the beak of his mask.
In the meantime, Borors dusted off a book, which he carefully brought out and put on his lap.
“Uhm… What’s with the book?” The woman dressed in a red skirt asked him with a tilted head.
“You’ll see…”
Several minutes passed silently and the place started filling up with creatures. Firstly, there were maids coming in. The maids were of different species, from beast women to vampires, goblins or orcs. Around 40 of them entered the place and sat down graciously into several rows of benches. While some were fidgeting, just like Smol, none of them took too long.
The maids all wore different colored gothic style maid clothing. The colors would be either in contrast or match their skin or fur color. Almost each one of them was a beauty and while those who wouldn’t force lust to come out still looked beautiful, in a weird, exotic way.
Each of them had different hair styles or some sort of small ornaments in their hair or around their necks. Some complimented one another as they looked exactly the same, just of different species.
The place was starting to crowd up. While there was a lot of space in the chapel, the echoes died down as the maids conversed with one another.
After the maids, came in a huge mass of slime. It resembled humanoid shaped gelatin more than just some snot. It was green and completely clear. It didn’t have any clothing on as it didn’t have anything to cover and the clothes would just get ruined anyways by the looks of it.
The gelatin went to the middle of the chapel, by the throne and bowed its upper mass in front of it. Its size almost matched Smols’ so the movement looked awkward.
Without batting an eye towards the four that were sitting on the opposite side, it went by one of the benches to sit down as well.
The place filled up with even more people or even things, sort of.
A knight in black armor pushed in a 5 by 5-meter black and white box near the throne and left it there. He bowed down as well towards the throne and went near the four for a greeting:
“Hello everyone…” His metallic voice got their attention.
“Welcome back Garmadel. You cleaned up the other areas, correct?” Borors enquired pretty rudely.
“Of course. It was nothing much.” The knight let out those lines as though he practiced them before.
“Good.” With a simple answer Borors continued to sit and just gazed around. “Pretty lively.”
“It is always lively! I mean whenever we try at least!” Smol countered sitting beside him.
“But still… I think everyone just wants to get this over with… While there may be lots of excitement there is always a lot of disappointment when we fail…” The one to respond was the nun, Throna. She said so quietly as though trying to hide her voice from those around her.
“This time…” Every one of them sighed.
“*Hahhh…* Well anyways, I’m going by my group. Borors, Smol, you should also go meet up with yours.” The black knight, Garmadel, told them and waved goodbye with his frail arm, the arm which was not covered by any armor.
“Disgusting…” Borors silently let out the word. “Though he’s right, but I just feel jealous of you two…” Referring to the two women, he went off somewhere into the crowd.
“Alright! I’m going to meet up with the others as well! Ladies, enjoy yourselves!” He nodded deeply to them.
“Of course.” Both of them responded to Smol who was walking away.
*******
The interior of the chapel now brimmed with life. From maids to monsters, everyone sat down, those who weren’t able to, stood.
The first front rows of benches had 11 beings sitting on them. One was not sitting and instead just stood by the side – it was the box.
One was the green slime, which kept its humanoid form, but was stark naked. Near him sat Germadel, the black knight with the frail arm. There was another one – a giant lizard, who looked like a wingless dragon and covered several rows of seats and sat as lightly as it could as to not damage the interior.
There were the two previous women – Throna and her sister, both of them sat together on a single bench next to each other.
Then there was Borors, who sat with two other men. One of them, who was so delicately handsome, close to not even being male, sat a bit farther away from the Orc. The other looked to be relaxed as he extended his feet forward. The lax one seemed to be mostly human, he wore green clothing and a green helmet. By the sides of his waist laid a knife and a metallic object with a long barrel on the other side, a gun. Simply put, he was a modern looking soldier, though the top of his face was partly hidden behind the helmet.
The last bench had Smol sitting as uncomfortably as ever with an another lady. The beauty looked ghostly, almost like she would fade out. Though her figure was quite plump, she was still tall and, for a lack of better words, fit. She wore clothing similar to the maids, though it was simply a dress. Just like her figure, her clothes also seemed to fade ever so slightly, though in spite of this appearance she energetically reprimanded Smol.
Many people, beings, creatures filled the place.
Borors was holding the book with red covers on his lap, which he dusted off at random intervals.
After a bit more time, the chatter died down and the place was completely quiet. So quiet ears would start ringing, but everyone continued to sit, or stand, as elegantly as possible.
Below the throne at the center and the rounded altar, was a small hole. From that hole smoke started coming out. After the ordeal, the smoke died down and a flame came out.
Simply put, it was a perfect flame, like that of a candle, but very round in shape, almost looking like a droplet of water.
The flame stepped away from the place it came out of and seemingly turned around to face the altar. It lowered itself as low as it could and then faced the audience.
“Welcome, subjects of our lord and master, Mironov!” The flames’ voice was pretty crude, slightly like an old mans, but it still echoed throughout the deafening space. No one responded to his words, no one even dared to cough or even make a move. “Today, will be yet another day of retribution, a retribution for our cause, our purpose!”
At that moment, Borors quietly neared the two women, with gentle footsteps. He silently whispered: “Use this with the blood as well, I have no idea what it is exactly, but…” Throna and her sister came behind the fire. They took the object from Borors hands and nodded slightly.
The flame droplet just let out some smoke from its top and Borors moved away back to his seat.
The two women took the book in front of the blazing fire. It looked as though it quickly skimmed through its covers and paid it no real heed.
But that obviously wasn’t the case. The book was placed on top of the altar, in front of the throne.
The two women backed off a bit, still standing by the sides of the fire as he continued his grand ceremony: “*Hmph* Thus with great expectations comes even greater let downs, but we are not here, we do not exist to be proud or disappointed! We, are here to serve and nothing else. Let us commence, the ceremony…” After clearing its imaginary throat, the flames voice died down bit by bit, as though it started disbelieving his own words.
This led to pessimism in the far back rows. While the front rows were still looking very steadfast in this ordeal, they were just masking what was going on in the back. Even if this ceremony goes well or wrong, they could not allow anyone to see those slightly depressing expressions be exposed.
Silence entered the place once again. No one spoke, no sounds broke out, almost like everyone was frozen in place.
In the center of all this the two womanly figures and the flame stood there in silence as well, until both women lowered their heads and started mumbling. The bundle of heat just simmered ever so slightly more and the place turned dark, with only small particles of light swaying in the air.
It was as though all the light was being sucked into one spot – the center of it all.
Throna and her sister stopped whispering, raised their hands into the air and closed their eyes.
Light started returning to the area.
Everyone lowered their heads as their eyes darkened. Even the air felt depressing.
Everyone stood there for a couple of seconds, which felt like hours. Everybody was contemplating what is next.
The book opened itself with a loud thud. The whole chapel started shaking uncontrollably. Everyone looked to one another as though searching for an answer.
The bundle of fire seemingly turned towards Thronas sister as though inquiring what was going on, but she just shook her head.
“Go check with Meya immediately!” The fire shouted at the same woman. “Everyone reach towards safety and prepare the defenses.”
Just as his voice resounded through the place from the center everyone looked directly at him. No, their eyes skipped through him and gazed beyond, at the book. Just as the flame realized this it turned too and saw what was happening.
The book leaked. It leaked a dark liquid. Black ink spilled onto the floor and reached below the flame. Just as it reached the flame it started encircling and covering the ground, the altar and the throne.
Everyone just gawked towards the black throne. Except for the flame which flew towards Borors.
“Explain yourself.” It let out with a hollow voice.
“It will be all or nothing. If we’re here purposeless… then… then what is the point?” He grimly answered, but inside he knew he was lying. Neither did he know what the books purpose is, neither what it does. He just felt deep connection to it and trusted his gut.
“Borors, may I count this as treason?”
“If anything, this is but a mistake and nothing more. But-…”
“But mistakes are not permitted, Borors!” The flame shouted at him, cutting off his words. But after noticing that Borors was no longer looking at him, just gazing past him it no longer felt like it was the one in command. “Ans-…”
The ground shook once more, but this time no one reacted to it as they were drawn towards just one thing – the growth of a small sapling. They watched as it grew quickly, like a bamboo shoot or a magic beanstalk. They watched as it reached the ceiling and quickly died down, withering to something resembling a cherry tree.
The left over bark grew dark and scattered across the place like ashes. Some large, some smaller. Before dropping onto anyone’s head, shoulders or anywhere in the upper side of their bodies, it melted into nothingness and flew away from them with the none existent wind.
Everyone recovered from the shock and looked towards the tree, which grew out of the ink. While it may have not been tall, its bark was quite wide.
The trees bark split open and formed a jaw. The said jaw gnashed at the air, like an old man waking up from sleep.
Then it opened its mossy eyes and gazed upon everyone, the large mass of beings in front, kneeling, some were fallen and pushing their foreheads to the floor, others, just gawked.
*******
Inside a quite large room, a burly man sits behind a desk.
If looked from afar he would resemble a well-dressed pig, but up close his features are handsome, but ever so slightly. While the face might have some fat below the chin it is only visible while the face is bent down. But, still, the skin on his face was quite oily, the hair as well. He was unkempt and looked he has not slept for several days.
He sat there and read a large piece of grey paper, a newspaper. On the desk, several books were stored on each side of the desk, even the front had books covering it, creating a wall of sorts.
The whole room looked like it was barely existent. While the wooden boards and the wooden floor gave off the color of brown, it was very bleak. Even the desk was so.
The man read the paper on and on and on. While there were several bookcases and what not in the room, there was no clock, so it’s impossible to tell for how long he read.
Behind the man was a simple square window. The glass of that window seemed to be the only fully visible thing in the room, as it was decorated in different colored mosaics. Even the light protruding from it felt fresher.
The man read the newspaper and just as he was about to turn the page a knock came. He raised his head a bit and the other chin on his neck stretched out. Then another knock came in, but the man decided to ignore it and went on with reading the paper.
As time went on the knocks only became louder and more aggressive, yet the man still paid it no heed.
This went on for quite a while but yet again the man decided to turn a page and the door violently flung open.
“What is your deal? Can’t let a beautiful lady in? At least respond next time…” The one to enter was a woman with one of her high heeled feet slightly lifted up, lifting her skirt with it and revealing the hidden contents. Basically, she just kicked the door open.
The pig looking man just raised an eyebrow, then focused back on the newspaper once more, not paying heed to the woman who was dressed in a frilly looking dress and was holding a closed umbrella on her shoulder.
She quickly responded to that by stomping the foot she had raised up to the floor. She pouted and went over by the side of the man.
“Forland! Wake! Up!” She leaned by his ear and yelled into it.
The man twitched a bit, put down the paper and turned to the woman.
“Oh Zeleene! When did you get here?” He asked as he pretended not to notice her before.
“Shut the hell up you fucking idiot. Ugh! I knocked for like… Forever!”
“Yes, yes, of course… My bad, terribly sorry. But as you can see I am quite busy, so please get your celestial ass out of here.” The man didn’t even make an effort to stand up, as he told her. Then he proceeded to shoo the woman off by waving his chubby hand away towards the broken down door.
“I’ll leave once I get what I came for!” She told him in a very high pitched voice, but the man did not react. “Hey! Hey! Come! On!” She then grabbed him by his collar and shook him in his seat.
“I. Am. Tired. Of. Doing. Your. Job. For. You!” Keeping one eye on the paper he spelled it out for her.
“Come on!” She yelled again, looking like she’s about to cry. “I... *sniff*… Just need one… One more…” With trembling lips, she muffled out the unfinished sentence.
“Neither do I have any, neither can I get any. So please, just leave…”
“What do you mean you can’t get any? Come on, you never use them and I need the-e-em!” She shook the man’s collar even more violently until he stood up. While he may have been quite soft looking he was almost two heads taller than her.
“I said I don’t have any! Some come, some go! Now get the fuck out!” He shouted at her, making her look like a cornered puppy facing his owner after doing something bad.
“Wh... What do you mean some come, some go! Come on… please?” She inquired while keeping her current appearance.
The man just proceeded to put a palm to his face and sigh: “That one already left, creating a whole city with him too. So, enjoy.”
“What!?” She immediately broke her puppy-like character and started throwing questions at the man. “None can just up and leave! What do you mean with a whole city? What do you mean by city? Where did it leave to? Answer me!”
“Stop shouting for a moment! It left to your precious planet. It was brought there using some sort of resurrection magic, that I don’t even know, I think at least. By city I mean there appeared a whole island of beings similar and not similar to it, whatever that means.” The man sighed again and just dropped his body to his seat once more while holding his forehead.
The woman just made a face as if she was about to cry and ran off loudly.
He just sighed again, took up his paper and proceeded to read.
“She should observe her planets better or else she’ll lose them. *Pfff*… Well whatever, not like it’s going to be my problem, though it is going to be fun to watch. Anyways, what is it you want?”
The burly man turned towards his left, where nothingness once was.
*******
Huh? What’s going on? The sight in front of the tree was quite a peculiar one. Everyone was kneeling to it in this place which had an atmosphere mixture of dark and magical. It was gorgeous. But the tree, Ent, did not pay much attention to it, instead an itch on its back caught its immediate attention.
Holy crap it’s itchy… Ahh. God dammit. At that moment one of the branches elongated itself and proceeded to do what was needed to be done. Yeah… Much, much better… Chippings of moss and tree bark fell to the floor. The amount wasn’t much and the rubbish just fell into the black ink which painted the bottom part of his body.
Hope it’s not a real problem… But what’s with this liquid? The Ent stretched itself out a bit as though someone was stretching their back. It then looked downwards and in this complete silence and picturesque sight the only thing to caught the trees attention was the silent spilling noise behind it.
Thus it turned and with it the whole place started quaking once again. Woah… better watch my step…
It saw the book which spilled the black ink out of it like a fountain. He inspected it, by picking it up and flapping it a bit with its pointy branch arms. At that moment the ink stopped spilling, actually the book was slurping up all of the ink around it.
Once that motion passed all that was visible were childish scribblings of dinosaurs, humans, humans with horns and what not. The two pages which contained this information were both cute and disgusting at the same time. Cute because they looked like a child painted them, disgusting because the drawings were anomalous.
Huh… Didn’t I lose it somewhere? With that thought it remembered the previous sight and turned swiftly back to the audience with a wrenching sound who were silently kneeling on their feet. The tree looked back at the book and then to the creatures in front of it.
The tree wasn’t bothered by its own appearance as though it was natural, but the beings in front of it had some similarities to the ones in the book. While not quite the same, they do look alike… Well whatever. The tree then closed the book and it was as though time started moving again.
The creatures raised themselves unsteadily in the still shaking building. One of them neared the tree, the flaming droplet.
Each one of them procrastinated on the ground once again even lower except for the flame.
It gazed to the tree with its teddy bear like eyes, with its two void black dots. The feeling of like it was waiting for something assaulted the tree.
The Ent opened up the same page on the book once more and everything froze in place. It didn’t bother to search for an explanation for the current situation and instead skimmed through the two pages again, but nothing which wasn’t previously seen was found.
Then it looked at the red cover and on it was written ‘Mironov – Master of Eden’.
Wait… Something, everything doesn’t feel right. The tree took one its branches off the book and gazed at it. The branch formed a fist, it extended, it bent in any possible direction. Although it doesn’t feel right, it’s still quite natural…
It gazed through the interior of the area once again. Like he thought everything is and is not quite right. While a feeling of unease assaulted it the exact opposite feeling also did. Mironov… That’s right…
The tree turned around, muddying the ground. It looked at the throne, at the throne which looked like was made out of pure gold, almost like it was made out of the rays of early morning sunlight. The seat was cushioned with dark red cloth and the handles were as well. A throne of a king.
Let… The Ent moved, it moved around the altar until it neared an opening to the seat. Still with a book in its branch hand it moved another branch towards the throne, to feel it. It went around it, touching it along the way and the tree rested its eyes upon the seat.
It laid down the still opened book on the altar once again and extended all of its limbs, the branches and roots which substituted as feet, as far as it could.
They gnashed and twisted together like vine snakes creating a humanoid figure which looked as though it had no skin and its flesh was made out of dark wood.
The eyes narrowed and moved to the face area. They were like slight slits extending to the area where the ears should’ve been.
The mouth was still gnash-like, like jaws of a beast who didn’t keep his teeth in proper order.
The face looked like someone cut a piece of wood off from a tree, like a cylinder covered in bark.
The thing looked at its hands once more. They were still sharp looking wooden hands. The arms still had several smaller branches on them with leaves which got caught up in the fleshy coiled vines.
The whole thing looked like it would wither at any moment and the humanoid tree knew it too.
Us… The insides of the coiled vines looked like they started burning from the inside, making the wood even darker. The outside lit up and cinders were lightly lighting up, looking like gold would spill out from inside of the body.
The figure picked up the book and sat down on the throne gliding its narrow slits for eyes through the crowd.
Begin… With that thought it closed the book and the place became lively once again, even though everyone was still kneeling, the pressure from their presence became even greater.
“Stand.” The Ent let out a voice and everyone stood up. The flame which was in the front now had gem sized black eyes, which looked like they sparkled.
“Torch, Everyone, I am back.” The Ent smiled to them.