Hey guys, I'll be quick with this update. First off, thank you for checking out this chapter. It means a lot to me that so many people read my books. Second off, if you have read any parts prior to this, I will be making a small change to those. The Reaper will no longer be the name used for the sources brother (it was originally just a place holder name while I thought up another), instead, he will be referred to as Ghul, which means the same thing but sounds better in a fantasy setting kind of way. Anyways, thats all I have so onto the chapter.
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Grall
Grall's sword cut through the magic like a hot knife through butter. It had amused Grall when he had first seen a creature made up of pure magic at first, but now it just annoyed him.
Is this all that death has to offer? Grall thought as he walked further into the layer. Fighting and death, or is it even death? How can one die when they are already dead?
Grall flicked his sword, more out of habit than to rid it of anything and sheathed it in his makeshift belt. It had already been several years, maybe well over a hundred, Grall couldn't tell. He had long lost track of time, much like the shadow world, time moves differently in the spirit world.
Sighing, Grall continued forward. He had a purpose for being here, one that he couldn't let anyone know, not even Grodak. He had sensed this purpose when he first visited the shadow world as a soul and again when The Reaper had kicked him out of his own body. It was a purpose he had thought impossible until now.
Grall approached a silver archway, one that had gold that ran along and below its surface like veins. This was perhaps the sixth or seventh archway he had approached and, if luck would have it, the last, but Grall didn't hold his breath. He knew better than anyone how his luck held in these situations and just resolved to push through.
As he approached, a group of boulders began to move. Grall paused and watched, he had expected as much when he approached. Just like the past five or six archways before this, there was a guardian present that would hinder his travels and try to keep him from pushing forward. Grall didn't mind fighting these "guardians" because unlike the creatures made of pure magic, they actually posed a real challenge, each one getting harder to beat.
This was a first, however as he had yet to face any golems. Is that the proper name for them? Grall thought for a moment as the pieces lined up to fully form the creature. I mean they are artificial life forms so I guess they wouldn't get offended by what we call them, but I feel like "golem" is just… a slave name?
Grall banished the thought as the now fully formed golem stood up and faced him. "Hey," Grall shouted to the golem, "is calling you a golem ok?"
The golem gave Grall no indication of it being right or wrong. With a sigh, Grall unsheathed his sword and leapt into battle.
Grodak
Grodak was aroused by a loud knock on his bedroom door. A groan escaped him as he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, sleep had done his body little good. His wounds from the battle still ached, the dull throb of pain a constant reminder of his failure. If this was his punishment for thrusting all of his pain onto Grall, he would accept it. Now, more than ever, he felt responsible for what Grall had turned into.
Grodak's attention was once more pulled to the door as another loud knock ranged from the wood. He was about to call out to whoever was on the other side when he remembered Xierma had visited him in the middle of the night and now laid in his bed naked. Grodak grunted as he pushed himself into a standing position and moved to cover Xeirma's sleeping frame.
The knock came a third time and Xeirma began to stur. This annoyed Grodak, what could be so important that they would disturb his sleeping wifes rest? Without bothering to dress himself, Grodak strode to the door and pulled it open just as the orc on the other side was getting ready to knock again.
"What is it?" Grodak demanded with a growl.
The orc looked Grodak up and down before looking away. "My lord," the orc said in a loud voice, "you have a visitor, a female Pyroniam who wishes to work."
Pyroniam? Grodak thought, a hint of amusement played at the back of his mind. Last Grodak had heard, all of the Pyroniams, excluding Jaxale, were locked up in Imp's kingdom so that they could be rehabilitated after Imp found out about some cannibalism. For one of his kind to be free… It changed a great deal of things.
Grodak let out a small grunt of satisfaction and opened the door wider to step out into the hall. "Good. Lead her to the audience chambers and I'll meet her there."
Grodak went two steps down the hall before the orc cleared her throat. "If I may speak freely, my lord," she said, her eyes focused on the window pane a few feet in front of her, "I would rather think she would be… put off with your current appearance."
Grodak looked down at himself in annoyance and realized he was stark naked. Blushing a deep crimson, Grodak hurried back into his room to dress before heading to the audience chamber.
Scarlett
Scarlett stood in a large ornate room that held decorations that felt… odd. They didn't resemble what she had thought an orc would use for decorations and there were plenty of pictures of a man with white hair and red eyes. Other than his hair and eyes, which were unusual for humans, nothing about this man was striking.
Guess this Grodak has unusual tastes. Scarlett commented to Amino.
Maybe, Amino said as his eyes fixed on the throne and the gold that encased the arms, but he had more money than those nasty orcs at the gate let on.
Scarlett stifled a chuckle, it wouldn't do to be caught laughing like a maniac when the orc finally graced her with his appearance. A bout of annoyance and disgust at the thought that she would have to work for an orc of all things overtook her. If it wasn't for her son, she would have sooner burned this town and all the orc lovers with it. But this was for her son and Scarlett knew she would feel horrible afterwards.
Time ticked by. The fact that this orc everyone called a savior was keeping them was almost too much to bear. Scarlett thought about just leaving this castle and looking elsewhere for work, but she knew not where. Other than Whitewater, every kingdom, save for the one created for Dasarias and Pyroniams, who would more likely trap her in said kingdom, was destroyed either by Grall or someone else.
More time passed and just as Scarlett was ready to throw in the towel and leave, a door opened. Scarlett paused for a moment to glance at the door, expecting to see an ugly orc with dark green skin and over pronounced underbite. Instead, the man who walked through the door had light green skin, an almost human face, lean body, and his underbite barely showed.
Scarlett hadn't expected such a creature to appear, especially one that was almost handsome enough to throw herself at. Almost.
"I apologize for my tardiness." The beautiful man said, his voice sounding more musical than brutish like the other orcs. "I was busy with… taking care of official matters."
As he spoke, the beautiful man made his way to the throne and only when he sat did it dawn on Scarlett that this man is the orc known as Grodak. Scarlett quickly straightened her thoughts and coughed to clear her throat. She could feel the clear signs of heat radiating from her cheeks.
"That's quite all right, my lord." Scarlett said as she made an effort to hide her face. "May I assume that you are King Grodak?"
"I am Grodak," Grodak said with an amused twinkle in his eyes, "but I do not think of myself as king of anything anymore."
This surprised Scarlett. She had requested an audience with Grodak since he was supposed to be King. If he isn't the King of Whitewater, then who would she have to ask for jobs?
"My apologies, Grodak." Scarlett said as she straightened her back, the heat from earlier long gone. "May I know who is the King of Whitewater, so that I may speak to them about employment?"
Grodak chuckled for a moment then made a sweeping motion at all of the pictures that lined the walls. "Tyril Vaandar, Wraith of Whitewater, or," Grodak said as his hand fell back onto the arm of the chair, "as he is more commonly known, the child King of Whitewater."
Scarlett paused for a moment, thinking the names through. She had heard both names mentioned years ago, when she was just a young girl. He was a man who had united all nations under a single banner and killed… something or someone. Scarlett sighed as she rubbed her temples, she could feel a headache coming on.
"Then," she said as she locked eyes with Grodak, "how do I get in contact with him? I cannot tell you why, but I need employment quickly."
"I don't even know how to get a hold of him." Grodak's voice took on a more somber tone. "He disappeared in the battle against Grall and hasn't been seen since. If it is only employment, then I can assist you with that."
Grodak
Grodak let out a small puff of air as the Pyroniam woman, who went by the name of Scarlett, left the audience chambers. It had been a small matter to assign a task to her that would pay decent enough and Grodak felt that he was more than generous in his offer. Yet, something still plagued his mind.
Was Grodak telling the truth when he claimed Tyril as the king or was it all wishful thinking on his part? It mattered little now, he only needed to find Tyril and bring him back. He had waited for Tyril to make his own way back to the castle, now it was time for Grodak to do something about it.
Grodak reached into his pocket and produced a small stone. At first glance, this stone was completely ordinary, identical to a multitude of stones and pebbles that lay just outside the castle walls. This stone was anything but ordinary, it was a stone that had been enchanted with a communication spell. As long as the person Grodak wished to speak to held a similar stone, he was able to communicate with them. Grodak had to admit, even though he hated Imp with a fiery passion and would love to cut his head from his body at times, this was the most useful thing in his arsonal.
Grodak held the stone to his lips and muttered quietly into it. A moment goes by before Imp's voice comes through. "What is it you want, Grodak?"
Grodak bit back a string of harsh words that touched his lips and instead spoke with the same tone he used with Scarlett. "I wish to find Tyril. Would you by chance know any spell or magic that could take me to him?"
"Tyril?" Imp asked, the sound of wind made it difficult to hear. "I cannot take you to him, but I can send you to the same plane as him."
Grodak raised an eyebrow, Imp had previously refused to tell Grodak where Tyril was. He had told Grodak that he wasn't ready to enter such a place. Grodak had assumed that this meant he was thrown into hell, which from all accounts, was void of almost all demon lords, save for the final lord. It was the reason for the odd weather they had been having and, if those reports were correct then Tyril wouldn't have had a problem leaving hell.
"Do it." Grodak grunted, he knew this could mean years would pass by without him but he wanted to risk it. Tyril was the rightful king and he was willing to do anything to put him back on the throne.
"It's already done." As the words came through the stone, the air around Grodak began to shimmer and fold in upon itself. Before Grodak knew what was going on he found himself standing in hell.