A beachfront on the rim of the dark island of Meremoth was lit only by the dull light of the blood moon. The moon always shone red in this desolate land for reasons that were impossible to explain. There was no day in this place, only darkness and night. Many say that in the time of the great weavers, the land was cursed in retribution for the vile acts accomplished by the occupants of the kingdom. This left the land and its occupants cursed, and it was well deserved. This land was home to the most vile and cruel.
After the fall of Daegan, the land was abandoned by those who still lived there, or they died off quickly in the harsh, unforgiving environment. This left the already desolate landscape to become a true wasteland. Nothing remained of these lands but dry ground, ashes, and strange and wild creatures. Or so it would seem. The truth was far more ominous. Hidden underneath the earth lurked what would soon become one of the greatest horrors of the five kingdom’s histories.
This beach sat at the base of a great wall of cliffs on the edge of Meremoth, not far from the only port on this great island. At the base of this particular cliff was a cave. This cave was peculiar. When the tides would rise, the water would be repelled from its mouth, as if blocked by some unseen force. A tide rolled in with a fury, as it always did in Meremoth, beginning with a great wave that washed toward the island, raising the water level by many tens of feet. Yet the cave remained unfilled, even though it rested below the surface of the water. The waters stilled, with a few large waves still crashing against the sheer hundred foot wall of rock and stone that protected the rest of the land from the devastation of the tides. After a short while, the water began to recede, cutting through the sand and rock as it did so.
A figure, draped in a dark red cloak and dawning thick black plated armor, stood on a precipice of the great cliffs. He looked down at the oddity that was the cave repelling the torrent. His face was concealed by a mask, made of a strange material. It was wooden, with it’s grain having equal parts hard wood and metal.
The slits for the eyes betrayed nothing but utter darkness. The figure waited until the tide was just right and then he jumped. A one hundred foot fall ought to mean the demise of any person, but this man landed with a thump as if the fall meant nothing to him. He then strode forward to the cave. He passed through the entrance and darkness enveloped him. No light entered from the mouth of the cave. It was as if he had stepped through the veil of reality, into a space between worlds. There was but one light in the distance.
In what seemed to be the center of the cave, there stood a glowing object. What the object happened to be was obscured by the glow it created. The figure was about to step forward, but hesitated. He looked around and seemed to recognize something. He took his sword out of it’s sheath and pressed it forward slowly. As he did so a wall of metal closed in on it from both sides with a speed that would be impossible if not for magic. Anyone would have yelled out or at least flinched at the startling sight, but this man remained perfectly still. He seemed unfazed, even as he pulled back and examined his sword which had been cut in two. The metal doors slid back open. The place was well guarded, which is to be expected with so great a treasure concealed within.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
The man threw the hilt of his sword aside. After all, if he was right, he would no longer need it anyway. He readied himself and rushed forward. He jumped through the threshold of the metal wall with inhuman speed and heard a great crashing sound behind him. If he had been any slower he would have been ripped in two, like his sword. His momentum carried him and his reflexes took over, which was vital. Just as he landed, arrows without archers were shot from all directions. He pressed forward and crouched and jumped as arrows flew past, missing their target. Once or twice an arrow glanced off of his armor, but the man was unharmed. As he ran past the arrows, two great hammers appeared out of nowhere, swinging toward each other, seeking to crush the man between them. He quickly dove and rushed past the mighty instruments of death, landed with a roll and shot up, continuing to run without missing a beat. As he neared the object, a great chasm opened up before him. By the light of the object, he could see that there were spikes at the bottom. These spikes had points so narrow that no amount of armor would protect him from being impaled. The chasm, still breaking open, got closer and closer to his feet, He was still a number of yards away from the object, which was now resting on a stone platform in the cave’s center. The man did not hesitate. He jumped. The length was nothing to him. He landed but five feet from the glowing object.
As he stepped closer the object came into view. It was a bar of metal, floating on nothing. What kind of metal is impossible to say. The man hesitated. Had he been wrong? This was not what he was expecting to find. The metal bar was giving off an intense energy that seemed to be both pushing him away and tempting him closer. He stepped forward and as he did the metal bar began shifting, melting and changing. The glowing golden light shimmered with it, turning from gold to a sickly gray and then to an aura of darkness. The metal flattened into a black blade with a silvery edge that was dreadfully sharp. At its base, the bar elongated into a cross guard of gnarly obsidian. Below that, it rounded to a hilt which wrapped itself in a dark red leather and golden wire. The very bottom grew into a pointed black obsidian stone whose point looked razor sharp. The metal bar had fashioned itself into a vicious sword.
The dark figure looked on as all this happened, seeming taken aback for the first time. He stepped forward and gripped the sword. A surge of power rushed through him and he knew that this was indeed the object he had been looking for. The great sword of the Ariochmar.
“Finally”, came the dark and harsh voice.
He slashed the sword and as he did, a dark and black fire protruded from it. The flame encircled the figure and he laughed a deep and cruel laugh, which echoed through the dark cave