REVELATIONS//ANCHOR XII
God. The Creator. The Moon, The Star, The Infinite Void. The Writer. The Ruler beyond Time. Viktoria.
Many a names, to denote, to invoke, to proclaim. So many yet too few. For, verily, one could proclaim- invoke- beg- worship, for eternity and yet, they would be graced with naught but sinful silence. Many a weak men would take it as a sign of betrayal; stronger men, would take it as hostility. And, it was these men and women of strength and valor that doth did carve, amongst lands of eclipses, spheres of treacherous religions and satanic cults.
And, undoubtedly, they were the first to know Her wrath.
Their god lives amongst pastures of limitless artefacts of wealth and prosperity. But His.. His lived in want. Their’s coveted worship, love, understanding, cooperation and all that a merciful being should and would covet; His, lusted for subjugation.
Their god promised freedom of will and thought within his divine pastures. His? His promised eternal servitude in Her Name.
While their god bid them heed against war- against bloodshed; His welcomed it with childlike glee blossoming within Her tainted soul of eternal divinity.
She had shown him. She had made him bear witness to it; The infallible glories of Her Empire, Her Reich, Her Bloodline. The repercussions of his valiant, foolish, endeavors had all led to this one moment- where he would bear witness to the far reaching consequences that a mere stone's throw can have in the greater continuity.
Lilac. Evelyn. The Golden Regent. Juniper. Viktoria.
All because of… him.
He should have never stepped through that door. That godforsaken door! It was all because of it.. because of the devil that inhabited it.. because of the Malice that made it! He should have stayed. Waited. Bid his time. No! No, there was no point in repentance; the mistake has been made, foul, incredibly foul, deeds have been set into motion.
Perhaps, it had been its austerity with which it had stared him down, wore his soul down to such an extent that even fathoming the thought of not stepping through, became impossible. Perhaps, this too, was Her will- as all things that had happened in his life as of late, had been, to none but his surprise, orchestrated by Her.
Such power; one would call it a cruel fate. But he? He would call it an undeniable blessing. To have even, the ever possessive, death to bend its will to yours with but one thought- was an offer that none would ever deny. If not to live immortally then to ensure an everlasting dominion over all that was and all that will be; of course, that is assuming, the irresistible and tainted lure of immortality does not sway one.
Which, in his humble opinion, is impossible!
To reject immortality, to accept the inevitable embrace of malignant death, to refuse divine dominion– was, is and will be, inherently, unnatural to a human being such as him.
For, he too, even with Pleiades, at times, overbearing presence, desires immortality and, most of all, a slice of divinity. He isn't to blame for such baseful lusts, they are commonplace. Even he, who rests above Her will, desires it. She told him so, that even with such power of influential words that one could form entire worlds, he too still covets divinity. Perhaps, then, such a lust is undeniably natural.
Pleiades, if the bastard took the trouble of responding for once, would agree as well. For, how could he not? He too was a human, a mere swaddling baby at some point of time. Long gone and, undoubtedly, immemorial but his point stands. No matter, how… ancient, Pleiades is, it does not matter; at the end, he is and was a human.
A human with godlike capabilities, to some degree, yes. But, a human nonetheless.
Although, he does wonder, what will happen to the poor bastard once Charles is dead. Truthfully, tis an old question of his; somehow or the other, he could never voice it. Tis but once that he had, but.. Pleiades had dodged the query, making a vow simultaneously– a vow, that he is yet to uphold. A pity. He had thought him a decently honorable man.
All these thoughts, all distractions. He, in truth, should have never stepped foot into the Crater City, fuck it, there should have been no infiltrating the Fortress. All of it, everything, had led to the fucking Apostle and then, consequently to Viktoria.
Or, that too was a lie. For someone who could, so easily, birth a universe, what was manipulating a mere boy?
To think, so much of it or, in truth, all of it had been a ploy, just an act for Her amusement. To think that all that will soon follow in this tale’s wake, will too be a mere show for Her amusement. Frightening.
Dark times have bid themselves welcome. And, in their wake, a new Era awaits, impatiently, for it's turn to ravage the world.
An Era of War, An Era of Darkness, An Era of Eternal Sin, awaits.
And, it must not be kept waiting.
Afterall, there are parts to play, memories that he has yet to cherish. So much death, oh! So much death!
He is yet to see it!
But he has to learn of it!
With time, he shall.
Love is the death of logic, of duty, of normalcy. And soon, sooner than soon!, he fears it will be the death of all.
His mind is wandering. There are gaps in it; Names, he remembers, but.. can't place. Places, he remembers seeing and, in some cases, visiting but he does not remember. There is something wrong within the mind, something is lurking within it now; Not Pleiades, no. No. This…. This feels different. Malicious, if anything.
Pleiades, Pleiades always felt comforting, like a missing piece of himself.
But this thing? It feels like an outsider; Like a plague intent on ravaging anything, even remotely, alive.
The poison lurks within; out of his reach, yet so close. It whispers. It whispers of Elena. Her name sounding awkward on its tongue, as if, tis not meant to be.
As if the name does not suit her, does not refer her– as if, she is unworthy of it.
The parasite knows something. It means to do something but, in his heart of hearts, he knows its motives are not to aid. No. It lurks for something else, something more valuable. Something more potent.
He forgets who Lilac was. No, no. That's not quite right.
He knows Lilac!
It is a color!
Perhaps.. No, undoubtedly, his fears are unfounded; built upon the flimsiest of all foundations– his mind. Yes, yes, that is precisely it. His fears are borne of the inane distrust that has brewn within him for so long; clearly, even Elena has not yet quenched that icy fiery pit of suspicion within him. All the pity!
He hopes she will, for he fears that if she were to fail in such a tumultuous task then he too would fall prey to this fire; just like his mind, oh so long ago.
Not to mention, she, herself, would be tainted by it. Like Liliana was. She too would fall from grace, the pristine wings of angelic purity would be tainted, irreparably, by this.. this corruption, by this treacherous feeling of doubt and faithlessness. Like Liliana, the wings would soon shrivel and die, an inglorious death. Like Liliana, she too would be unworthy.
Like Liliana, she too would fall from his eyes.
Oh, Charlotte, what am I, to do?!
“Charles! Charles, love, please! Wake up! Charles! Charles-”
Eyes snapping wide open, with a gasp, his body lurched forward- akin to a man who had been saved from drowning. But, unlike a drowning man, who would hardly hold desire for water; he did. And, by Celeste, was it intense. His throat was drier than the Ghost Plains and, strangely, hoarse. Had he been screaming?
“Wa- water-” He whispered, hoarsely pleading with the angelic presence standing guard over him. Those eyes of pure midnight widened and before, he could place a name to the stunning beauty before him–
A pair of cherry red lips crashed into his own; a sweet taste of strawberries imploded his senses. The kiss deepened. The love between them, between their souls, burnt brighter than the star which gazed upon them, jealously, through the cave's possessive threshold. But, that is not here nor there; drunk with reveling at their reunion, he could care less about the stars or the moons. For the moon and stars were here with him, kissing him, loving him.
It had been so long. So long, since he had felt her so closely, so potently. And, he thought to himself as Elena brought herself closer, It seems the feeling is reciprocated.
All other thoughts were halted, as she shuffled closer.
And, by a magic unknown, his unquenchable thirst was quenched; the hunger which had struck so fiercely, had been cowed.
Lost and enraptured by their endless lust for one another, the two drowned themselves in the taste of the other. Their minds lost to the throes of pleasure, their hearts bursting with joy and their souls intertwined– one could forgive them for not having taken notice.
Standing, overlooking, the cave in which the two revelled and sated their thirst, was a revolting presence; one that Pleiades could smell fresher than the sweet perfume, could feel even more potently than the girl’s heat.
An Apostle.
He wished to shout it out, to scream at the fool to strike. But that.. that parasite within the boy's mind halted him, prevented him and, ultimately, silenced him. That Devil!
All the while, as the ever patient Apostle looked on, Elena and Charles made love.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The sunlight stung; while at other times, it might be pleasing to see the sunrise, now however, it was simply annoying. It had, afterall, disturbed the sweetest of all sleeps; For, once, he had slept content, but, the sun is cruel like that.
The cave was inconspicuous as all cave's are. But, somehow, someway, this one seemed special. Well, either special or recognizable. He was torn between them. However, the view from the opening was anything but plain or inconspicuous. It was grand. A vast forest stretching infinitely into the endless horizon, bathed in the golden sunlight of the heavens above; the very picture of elegant serenity.
Not to mention, a sight that was elevated in its grace and splendor by the woman who inhabited this meager cave with him. Seated on a rocky outcrop, Elena's visage when viewed from his angle, looked nothing short of divine. The splendid sun framed her face like a golden halo of heavenly blessings. At points- at certain turns of her head, one could even think that her midnight eyes had turned into, almost, molten gold.
A chill went up his spine. Why? He does not quite recall. But, it reminds him of someone; a woman, to be precise, and one which, if his shoddy memory serves right, resembled Elena. Fuck. It's probably Elena, herself, whom he remembers; Her eyes were wonders of nature, as it is.
Mayhaps, he is not truly awake.
The sun continued to rise, the divine halo above her head moved alongside it; her visage becoming more and more stunning.
Suddenly, her eyes turned towards him. Perhaps, or most likely, she had felt his burning gaze; shamelessly appraising her as he was, tis was not a surprise.
Flashing a charming smile, one that was colored with all the adoration and love that one could ever want, she greeted, “Mornin, love!”
He stretched, feeling all the soreness and knots slowly easing out, “A fine morning to you, as well,” A smile and he got up from the makeshift bedroll on the chillingly cold rocks– although, tis to be rightly mentioned that the bed might have been makeshift, it was anything but uncomfortable, and as for the chills of the cave floor, well, that had been the least of their concerns.
“Clothes?” He looked at her in askance, Elena chuckled, a fond smile forming upon her face and pointed towards the gleaming entrance.
“I had kept them there, had to make them warm, somehow. Although-” She began
“-That might not have helped,” He completed her words. True to his, or well her words, the clothes were not warm but they were not starkly cold, either. An acceptable compromise.
“How long was I.. gone?” He asked, only to stutter at the look of confusion that had ushered itself on Elena's face.
“How.. how long?! I do not know, you tell me! Last time, we spoke, you had clearly stated you shan't jump into harm's way! But.. but here you are!, having done exactly what you had promised not to!” Elena ranted. The sunlight upon her scowling face made her even more ravishing to look at.
He shook his head. “To be honest. Elena, I do not recall- well, not clearly, at least. I, merely remember being chased and a.. fight but after that? Your guess is as good as mine.” He shrugged helplessly, wincing at the look of unease and alarm that scoured through her lovely face.
“Truthfully-” She began, her leg absently prodding a piece of nearly burnt firewood, “I.. I do not, exactly, know. But, well, if I were to believe my ser– acquaintance’s words, you were injured.. badly. And then from that till now, it has been, perhaps, 3.. maybe 5 days?” At the thoughtful look of horror upon his face, she clarified, “I will hardly say that mine words are factual. Mayhaps, they are wrong and tis been not 5 or more days and instead, less. My acquaintance had been tight lipped,”
Tight lipped?, He thought in alarm. Perhaps, a visit had to be paid to this… acquaintance.
He shook his head, the consolation was hardly necessary but the subtle warning was, “Regardless, your words were necessary. For all we know, this unknown assailant might still be on our tail. The nearly week long gap that it has scored would hardly be wasted,”
“A learned enemy, then?” She questioned, the piece of firewood being forgotten.
“No, no, a hunter; a knowledgeable one,” He turned and gazed out into the gleaming forest stretching into infinity; the splendor of it was gone, now tis was replaced by a mounting horror. This was the perfect spot. If Charles had been the hunter, a cave in the midst of a forest denser than any other would have been hard to pass up as a hunting ground.
He sighed, “We must move,”
Elena startled, “Huh? Wha- why?”
“We must get clear of the forest, by daylight, if possible,”
“Why?” She questioned, although truthfully, he felt tis was not a question but a test.
“It is definite that the assailant is in those woods, perhaps gazing at us, this very moment. While, yes, this cave might be a vantage, it would be akin to surviving a siege if we were to stay here instead of, well, moving ahead; out there, while dangerous, we cannot be starved out or horrendously cornered like rats,” He paused, picking up the sheath of his sword, wrapped it around his waist, “The sooner, we are out of this forest.. the sooner, we are able to shake off our tail,”
Elena smiled at him, sweetly with a healthy dose of pride brewing within her benevolent gaze. The test, has been passed, he concluded with pleasant elation.
The walk from the cave to the forest took mere moments. Elena chose her spots well; like, always.
Sometimes, they were too good. Especially for a lady that claimed to have no knowledge of the arts and crafts of roguery and survival. But, were they ever suspicious? In the beginning, yes. But, now? Not at all. The girl was favored by fortune, unlike him.
It was, however, the forest itself that proved a right challenge. Too many times, had they already lost their way; shamefully, even his innate ability of pathfinding was simply not working? Or, maybe, this forest was more primordial than the rest. It was a possibility. Not all things, afterall, are made similar.
That was, not to say that he was not annoyed; and to salt the wound, Pleiades had gone silent. He had been ever since… well, since whatever the fuck happened in Lucaria. It had been annoying for the better part of the day. But, now, it was alarming. Too alarming.
Fuck, Charles, you gotta stop! First, get out of this forest and then deal with Pleiades!, He thought to himself in derision. Time spent pondering Pleiades, was time wasted.
“Charles?” Elena piped up, suddenly.
“Yes, love?” He paused, curious and equally alarmed at the suddenness.
“There- there is something, that we need to discuss,”
He shrugged, “Well.. there's no better time than now!”
She shook her head, as if, uneasy, “No, no.. Charles, love, it cannot be said here where the tree's and the air might hear and carry it to bad actors. No, I- I.. I'll let you know, once we're out of here,” She paused, eyes glancing up at him through her lovely eyelashes, “Is.. is that alright?”
He chuckled and nodded, holding onto her cheek with tenderness, “Of course! Of course, love. Just know, that whenever you're ready, my ear is yours!” Exaggerating the show of loyalty, he bowed extravagantly. Her sweet melodious laughter was his reward. And, oh by Celeste, was it such a sweet reward! Truly, the best thing, a man in love could hear was his lady love's careless notes of laughter!
“Pathetic.” A chill went up his spine, turning the body into stone. Elena gasped, stepping back in either shock or horror; it was impossible to tell. Although, it must've been a mixture of both.
Slowly, like a slothful creature, he turned to face the alien that had interrupted the moment of pure splendor; a tall individual, broad shouldered and, undoubtedly, muscular, yet, sporting an unfortunately hunched back. The hunchback looked natural as opposed to a taint of unsightly birth. An old fool, then. And, likely, a man; for, his voice was too deep, too coarse, too gravelly to be a woman's. Not to mention, his white and red robes hugged his body, closely– leaving, nothing to the imagination.
Even a deaf man could tell, he was a man.
Charles tilted his head, mockingly, sword sliding out of the scabbard slowly, “And, who the fuck, are you meant to be? Huh?”
The man, lowered himself to the ground, his hand finding purchase on the hilt of a scythe. Lifting it above the shoulder, he proclaimed, “Your death!”
Had, Pleiades' blessings not been upon him, Charles would have been felled; alas, the reflexes of a godling came to his aid, sword blocking the overhead strike of the scythe.
Charles retaliated, to the best of his abilities, gut punching the attacker; disorienting him.
Shirking the scythe's blade off his sword, he struck!
The attacker blocked, the metallic hilt of the scythe stopping the blade mere inches from his stomach.
Charles pushed onto the sword, disbalancing the attacker. He pranced backwards, creating much needed space from the mad creature wielding the scythe.
In a brief moment of respite, his eyes scanned the surroundings; phew, he sighed relief, seeing Elena taking cover behind a tree, comfortably away from the opponent. Thank God, that she didn't join the fight!
And, just like that, the momentary peace was over; the man racing at him like a bull, scythe poised like a spear vying to impale him.
Charles, easily dodged the attack, kicking the man in his ribs in retaliation. The man groaned, not screamed; alarming. Forgetting the strangeness, he took a swipe at the man– disoriented, as he was, the strike cut him on the stomach.
The assailant responded immediately, the blunt part of the scythe crashing into his stomach. Charles tumbled with a groan of pain. Fuck, it hurt!
The man took this chance to inspect his own wound. Clicking his tongue, either in disappointment at himself or Charles' poor strike, the man pressed his attack.
By the grace of Lady Fortune, herself, did Charles evade the swipe– had he faltered, it would have been a clean beheading. Rolling his way, he scrambled up, immediately blocking another strike; kicking at the man's shin, he pressed the sword onto the scythe, breaking the man's guard.
Attempting to take advantage, Charles moved to stab the fucker’s ribs– only, for the man to retaliate with a kick; a kick which landed squarely between Charles’ legs.
His eyes bulged in pain, and he wished to back down for the pain had been sudden, but he did not falter. Attempting another attack in the form of a sidesweep, he left his left flank open.
A grave mistake; For, immediately, the man struck hard!
Slashing away at Charles' face, taking his left eye!
A hoarse scream of pure unadulterated pain tore through his throat. He screamed, whimpered and attacked like a wild animal, cornered.
And like a Hunter takes on a wild animal and subdues it; so did, the man. Each of the rabid strikes that Charles made, no matter if they nicked and scratched him, the man retaliated fiercely and logically.
This dance of maddening torture and rabid fighting continued, until the pain, simply, became unbearable.
With a final, flimsy, strike; Charles collapsed onto the grass- now staining red-, with a final whimper.
“I had told you, foul beast. I am your end.” His right eye blearly gazing at the rapidly descending scythe, Charles accepted his grim fate. At least, he had seen Elena, one last time.
He took a glance at her shuddering form. And, oh, she looked so broken; his heart shattered.
However, before the scythe could behead him– a sword broke its trajectory. With a loud groan, the man went flying, far away, onto the grass.
His eye locked with it. Dual orbs of fire, staring back at him from their captivity in the pitch black void; a red armor, styled in the resemblance of a devil from the deepest and darkest caverns of hell and a sword, made from an equally demonic metal.
A Cardinal.
As the monster broke contact, pursuing its prey, Charles stuttered; his mind drowning, in the pain of memories that had been so easily forgotten and locked away, but, now had been released.
As the monster and the robed man, the Apostle, disappeared slowly from his sight, Charles began to remember.
He remembered… remembered it all.
Lilac; Agony; The Jade Throne and the Goddess upon it; The Orchard–
As his sight began to fade, a sweet rhythmic trill called out; An Ayla resided, majestically, upon its divine perch on the blessed tree.
It called to him. It spoke to him from the twin heads. It whispered, “The Basilisk awaits,”
It whispered of the Queen– The Basilisk Queen. It told him of her coming; of what he ought to do, to aid in her inevitable ascendancy. It spoke to him of her and more.
Above all, it reminded him… it reminded him of his oath, of his debt to Her. And now; Now, She has come to demand repayment.
Finally, as the Ayla departed to her home in the heavens above, it spoke musically, “The payment of the debt is the ascendancy of the Basilisk Queen! Do not forget, Charles Arvell! For, your Goddess demands tribute!”
And so, Viktoria has played her hand…