A menacing inky haze, like a black thin blanket, gradually covered the sky until the noon sky rondure was transformed into a gloomy twilight.
Then like the sound of a distant rain, but frightening, an ominous dark cloud appeared in the northern sky of the Red Plain. But it was no mere dark cloud. It was a swarm of ghoulish creatures flying with jetblack batlike wings. These creatures have their lower part of the bodies separated from them until their hips; naked, with their scraggly bodies emphasizing the curves of their rib cages and dangling breasts and their blood-stained white hair swinging with their flight. Their narrow and tubular tongues dangled from their wide gaping mouths studded with razor teeth. They are mindless ghouls that only serve their ever hungry stomachs preying on human communities often infiltrating them with their ability to transform into a normal human being by day.
"Visceral suckers!" The soldiers shouted in horror pointing towards the north.
"Fuck! I thought a visceral sucker does not bode well with its kin!" Saref exclaimed in disbelief. "Surely someone is lording over them. And what else, there are thousands of them, enough to tear down the army of both kingdoms! Fuck these visceral suckers!"
"No doubt, it's the creature at the center of the crater," Kudar pointed out. "Should we kill it, this battle is ours!" He formed his hands into a fist and sharply glanced at everyone around as if to urge them.
"So shall we join our forces, Kudar?" Dranreb suggested while holding out a hand which Kudar tightly shook.
"It very well seems we have no choice Dranreb."
"But I guess it shall be my camp who will take the first blow." Dranreb nodded towards the camp of the Castelian forces which was situated at the northern part of the Red Plain. So with haste, he summoned his two datus in a booming voice.
"Nosrac! Eeyad!"
"Brother!"Nosrac, who was at the Rajah's side, bowed his head waiting for an order.
"My lord!" Eeyad appeared from behind the Rajah shoving his way through the throng of warriors huddled together.
"Eeyad, make haste towards our camp and tell our men to group into five! Three sword warriors, two weavers. I can only pray the other datus know what needs to be done, for I trust in their strength! Galgo shall be in command of the forces in my stead, as I will head towards the center. Now go!"
With no time to waste, Eeyad flashed across the battlefield, like a stray strike of lightning heading towards the Castelian camp.
"You heard the man!" Kudar had also summoned his datus, and ordered the same for his men. "Move your asses warriors!"
"Holy fuck!" Dranreb studied the dark approaching swarm from the northern sky of the Red Plain, where a swarm of Viscera suckers slowly approached the left side of the Castelian camp. But his forces did not merely stand on their ground, hail after hail of burning arrows and offensive spells of different elements streaked across the sky. His stomach churned at the thought of the men he left behind, but as from what he can see they are faring well so far. Then he gazed at what his eyes could only make out as a dark huge shadow at the center of the crater ever shrieking, as if ordering his minions.
This is no war god, he thought to himself. Then he muttered a quick prayer to the war god Varangao.
Then with a welling force from inside him like a growing fire, he steeled himself and called out, "Nosrac, you stay by my side. We go towards the center, and kill whatever is on it..."
"As you wish my-"
"Hold there!" Kudar swung his sword and placed it on its shoulder. "I shall lend you a hand in this one Dranreb! My strength, you shall surely need, on this one."
Dranreb weakly smiled to show his gratitude.
What marked the start of the bloody battle was a deafening roar from the Castelian forces which echoed throughout the plain. The mananggals had reached the camp and a deadly encounter ensued. But much to everyone's surprise, the mananggals did not pause to devour or suck human organs after every kill, but instead fought like well-trained soldiers leaping from one hapless target to another wrestling them to ground in a dance of death along the sound of wild shrieks. The warriors did fight back, spears thrusting towards incoming enemies and finished with the sword. But as the battle waged on, it had become clearer, as line after line of warriors fell lifeless to the ground, the swarm of mananggals had gained the upper hand with their mobile speed and deadly claws that pierce through warriors' bare skins. In such a short amount of time, the front Castelian force was decimated and a stray line of mananggals started heading towards the Oksidental camp.
"Group into five! It's easier to deal with these monsters if we are grouped up by five!" Dranreb hastily ordered again with his loudest voice and soldiers visibly tensed up and braced themselves.
"Archers in formation! Buff your arrows with spells and hold until I order you to fire!" Licar called out. The Oksidental warriors have formed into a battle formation in groups of five, and the archers have started to line themselves up in a formation in safety behind the front lines.
"Such murderous monsters!" Saref, who had remained after Kudar dispatched his datus towards their own forces as his war advisor, remarked while gazing at the approaching wave of monsters. "This was the first time I have seen the likes of these creatures banding together as an army. It could be that they are the servants of an underworld high priest as this sort of happenstance was also mentioned in an ancient record. Then if I am not mistaken, the one in the center of the crater is a dark high priest. Them appearing on this land means that someone has been meaning to sacrifice us for something. And as what I had said before, a revival of something more like a god? Reincarnation spells do require a fitting equivalent for a soul being revived? And hundreds of thousands of souls for one… my guess would be right! They are reviving Varangao!"
"Varangao… revived?" Dranreb raised his eyebrows in puzzlement. Nosrac sighed.
'Let us not jump to such quick conclusions, Saref." Kudar critiqued while ordering his servants to fetch him horses. "There could be something far beyond the reaches of mortal thoughts here at the making. This is Saragnayan we are talking about. And focus on your spells! At this time, it is rather too late. Your thoughts about the prophecy do not really matter now, with no offense. We can only be a means for the end! And it is a cruel fate at that, but I hope we fare well."
Kudar always knew that the Kingdom of Castel, save their babaylan who chose to hide the truth, was hidden from the truth that Varangao was killed a number of generations ago, although the reason was obscure. The kingdom of Castel was very much favored by the late war god. His sudden disappearance or death was still shrouded with mysteries and conspiracies. But now it is not the time to talk about it. He had to clear his thoughts and focus on one goal. Kill the dark high priest!
Saref, heeding the words of his Rajah, closed his eyes and began to focus himself. And the men surrounding him started to back off several meters away as they instantly knew what was going to happen.
With a maneuver of his crinkly old hands like weaving something, a swirl of dust sprung forth from Saref's feet, which after a short while grew into a windy tempest of red dust enshrouding himself with a towering red spiral. Then with a flick of his finger, amber light glowed beneath his skin, and a fire manifested at his right palm. Expertly manipulating the elements, he fused the fire and the wind, wrapped it around the three giant balls of sands he had then molded which were now hovering mid-air. Then like pushing something upwards, he thrusted his arms towards the sky, and the flaming balls as if like puppets on strings, unresisting, smoothly soared higher up the air lighting a yellowish shade all around.
"No time to stand about and gape at a weaver Dranreb!" Kudar called out in the chaos while shielding his eyes from the swirl of dust flying around.
'Yeah!" Dranreb called out back. "Weavers of such complex magic always awe me!"
"I agree! So now we have one more thing to talk about if we live through this eh and perhaps negotiate about the ancient ruin?"
Dranreb and Nosrac let out a laugh heartily. Kudar grinned excitedly.
"Dranreb, horse!" Kudar then called out while covering his eyes. "Licar, command the forces in my stead. Retreat at once if you see us fail the fight!"
"Yes my lord!" Licar stiffened and bowed earnestly. "I pray the war god Makanduk will lend you his strength."
Then, expertly, Kudar climbed on top of his horse and started speeding towards the center of the crater alongside twenty of his strongest warriors.
Dranreb swiftly leaped towards a horse and followed while Nosrac trailed behind him matching his pace.
Now Saref twisted his wrist spinning the flaming balls faster and faster, and then finally, as if pushing something forward, shoved his hands forward, and the balls of flame shot onwards travelling at a great speed towards the approaching swarm of mananggals. Without a moment of rest, he continued to weave spells after spells.
But the dark high priest unfurled its dark wings exposing its expansive length then released a deafening roar. The backline waves of Viscera suckers stopped their movements and started avoiding the approaching barrage of flaming balls. Saref winced. Such thought has surely escaped his mind. But he paid no heed to his lingering disappointment, instead he increased the speed of his spells.
Meanwhile, Nosrac pointed towards the clashing warriors of Castel. "Look, brother!"
Dranreb followed the point of his fingers, and saw a spiralling column of red sands being molded to balls, coated with flames, and bombarded it towards the incoming thick waves. "Rasel has also started to weave his ranged spells."
Nosrac then moved his fingers further towards the thickest area of the battle. "Angast, at the front lines. The bodies of these monsters flying around are from the formidable swings of his massive sword! We are winning this!"
Dranreb grinned in victory. His datus are the strongest in the region, he knew something like this will not even challenge them. 'Can't let them have all the fun eh? Nosrac?"
Kudar raised his sword as if victory was imminent, and with a thunderous cry uttered, "Today it will rain blood. But tonight we will feast with the spirits of our ancestors! We will return home with the head of the enemy and burn it at the stake of victory!"
The men cheered with great morale. But a cracking sound in the air startled the advancing party towards the center. Dranreb glanced towards where the sound was. It was Eeyad and Galgo striking foes after foes, slowly advancing to meet them at the center.
"All is good," Dranreb muttered under his breath and moved his eyes towards their target. But the scene that awaited them was not at all good. A file of Viscera suckers were dragging and piling human bodies inside a strange glowing white circle drawn on the ground expanding about hundreds of meters from the centerpoint where the gigantic dark high priest was hovering.
"A strange magic formation." Dranreb wiped his eyes clean of dust, furrowed his eyebrows and intently tried to see what sort of creature it was.
It had a human form, but extraordinary and unearthly. Its strands of ethereal wavy hair constantly fluttered in a seemingly constant direction and its platter-sized eyes were like greenish-white pearls coruscating with a purplish tint. Its wings were like that of a bird, deep black and flawless for not a single feather had fallen. And its only clothing was a fine wide cloth like a kilt tied around his waists with an exquisite girdle that had both of its ends decorated with golden tassels hanging in front. And all throughout his colossal form were strange markings and runic ancient characters that glowed white accentuated by his dark body which at times would flicker with a fitful golden shimmer. Like a huge tree trunk, its burly right arm carried a black spear with a silver tip.
Contrary to the ghastly mananggals it was heavenly in sight. Clearly something not of this plane.
A demigod or a god? Dranreb thought. Or perhaps something else?
Kudar, who was inching closer towards Dranreb, hollered, "Saref's right! It is a dark high priest. No doubt about it. It is an underworld entity responsible for greater sacrifices in the underworld."
As the men drew nearer, a wave of mananggals intercepted them. And the men were forced to take a stand, as they were forced out of their horses.
Dranreb pointed his sword forward and weaved a spell. A gushing burst of flame shot straight and cleared a line of monsters. But it was not enough, as the gaps were quickly filled. Before he could weave another, a manangal lunged towards him but he countered with a quick swat of his burning sword cutting the monster in half. Yet giving him no instant to catch his breath, the enemy charged at him. This did not sway him, however, for every time he swung his sword a flaming wave of fire cut through the air burning several more until a trail of fire had covered his area.
The mananggals were now wary, as they started to avoid Dranreb and instead went for the weaker warriors. They lunged towards one, ripped off his arms and leaped onto another. Warriors fell one after another.
But seeing what happened, Nosrac, sword in both hands, dashed and striked his swords along a line of monsters leaving a trail of corpses. A number of mananggals leaped towards him, but with a graceful maneuver, spun himself while slicing everything around him. Then with a few strikes to finish some off, he spun again. He did this spinning attack every time several monsters lunged at him gracefully gliding towards the dark high priest, greatly thinning the wave.
Meanwhile, Kudar took a spear from a fallen warrior and spun it around him. Then he thrusted his spear towards a lunging enemy, but it tightly grabbed it instead and won't let go. But Kudar, with the sword from his right hand, sliced his head off, cutting a portion of its upper wings along it. He glanced around, but the best warriors he had handpicked from his forces had been overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemy coming straight at once towards them. His fear had manifested itself and he felt the sharp sting of despair. But then he caught a glimpse of Dranreb, slaying a number of enemies while unwavering and godly. With his every strike a crackling sound and a burst of flames followed burning everything around him.
"Just how strong is that guy. He has become stronger than the last battle," Kudar whispered under his panting breath. A fast approaching manananggal lunged at him breaking him free from his daydream, and he was back in the gruesome reality of battle. Then with weaving a spell in a split second, pointed stakes of sands shot up from the ground impaling all monsters around him. It was a counter-offensive spell, any hostile creature stepping inside the circle was punctured and impaled; lasting as long as the caster still lives, but ends when the caster steps out of the circle or dies.
Once the wave was cleared, the three men slowly edged closer towards the center where a number of mananggals were dragging dead warriors. And when they were several meters closer from the edge of the magic formation, Nosrac who was just a bit farther ahead of Dranreb, swathed his sword with darkness, and with inhuman speed, rushed towards the entity slicing his way through.
"Kudar take the left side. I'll take the right!" Dranreb called out and then they sped forward.
But then the dark high priest muttered in an unknown language, raised his spear and roared. When he pointed the glowing spear to the ground, a blast of dark waves rippled across the battlefield slamming every warrior to the ground.
It was a decisive point of the battle, as this gave the swarming mananggals the opportunity to break the forces' formation and overwhelm them. A great cry came from the forces of men as they were slaughtered relentlessly, and the battlefield was now turned into a disorganized melee.
When the dark wave was about to hit him, Nosrac had instinctively shielded himself with a film of dark magic, but was sent flying backwards, rolling and tumbling until piles of corpses slowed him down, finally letting him regain control. Meanwhile, Dranreb and Kudar, as if expecting what had happened, had their swords firmly planted into the ground where they had tightly cling onto. Dranreb's fire was snuffed out and Kudar's spell was dismantled.
But then it was no mere pulsing force. For a few moments after the spell had stopped, the real horror began. Warriors suddenly started retching and spewed blood out from their gaping mouths. Line after line of warriors, from the epicenter of the spell, fell down dead. It was a scene of dread. Hopeless cries filled the air, merely to vanish among the wild unearthly shrieks of the mananggals.
Dranreb, still dazed, violently shook his head. What just happened? Several Viscera suckers charged towards him but he managed to fend them off. But when his vision had fully cleared he looked around. To his horror, no warrior was left standing but him. It was like something out of the history books he had read about when he was a kid. A frightful scene that he thought could only happen in a bedtime nightmare. A bad dream?
Kudar, who was the closest, was lying on the ground still clinging on to the handle of his sword. He was retching, yet was desperately trying to hold something in. Still, it was to no avail. His body started convulsing violently, until a gush of blood spilled from his outstretched mouth. Then with his last groan of desperation he was no more.
Dranreb cried out, shakily rushed over and held him, but Kudar was already cold and lifeless.
"Nooo!" A surge of despair filled his body, and it started shaking. What was this? This was too much? Where are the gods? Help!
"B-rother.. "
Dranreb heard a distant weak voice. "Nosrac!" His mind went blank as he rushed towards the convoluting warrior. He swung his swords clearing several Viscera suckers, but they kept on coming. And if this goes on, both of them shall surely die.
Everything was happening too fast, as Dranreb had thought. As if every minute he was drowning closer and deeper to the depths of despair. But a familiar voice filled him with momentary relief.
"Your highness!"
Dranreb recognized the voice. It was Saref. "He's alive. How?"
Saref rushed over while flinging around fire spells, kneeled down beside Dranreb, then casted a thick barrier of sand around them. Once covered, with a flick of his fingers he produced a weak reddish flame that hovered on top of their heads lighting everything around them.
"Nosrac.. He's dying. Please," Dranreb pleaded with a voice nearly crying. "Saref, do you know anyth-?"
"Calm down, my lord."
Saref hastily placed his hands on Nosrac's chest and started chanting with the ancient tongue. A white glow ran over underneath his wrinkly skin towards his fingertips which emitted a luminous white light. Nosrac's body tensed up, and stopped spitting blood.
Dranreb heaved a sigh of relief.
"The healing will take a few moments. The spell used by the dark high priest was something I've once read in an ancient book…," Saref explained, breaking the momentary pause. "When the dark high priest turned silent, I knew for once he was weaving a dangerous spell. So I rushed over here, but it was too-"
"Kudar… is dead," Dranreb weakly croaked, and a glimmering hint of wetness was in his eyes. "I…I am sorry."
Saref took a pause and bowed his head.
"I know," Saref calmly said, he had expected it. "Everyone outside… is dead."
Dranreb glanced at him, caught offguard with Saref's composure.
Saref started puffing his chest, swallowed a lump of saliva, and stretched his neck out. It did not take too long until he yielded.
Saref soundlessly weeped.
Dranreb cleared his throat, after gauging the right time to interrupt.
Saref sniffled and dried his face on his shoulder. He knows there is no time to spare for crying. This is the time to find a way to survive.
"The dark high priest's spell, how did you protect yourself from it?" Dranred asked.
Saref snuffled deeply and wetly chuckled; then with a grunt, effortly trying to maintain his healing spell, he said, "I was lucky that is. It was an instant decision to cover myself with a sand barrier, perhaps what saved me was my childhood. Whenever I was scared, I would alway hide myself with this spell until it became my usual shield. It was certainly effective...in isolating yourself from everything around you." Saref was now looking at the fire hovering on top of them while having a distant look in his eyes, but then after a few seconds he took a deep breath and looked at Dranreb with a serious face. "… I think the spell...it does not affect inanimate objects."
But then a flush of realization dawned on Saref and his eyes grew visibly wide glinting in the darkness. "Wa-waw-why were you not even affected?" he stuttered, astounded.
"I do not know," Dranreb replied in almost a hush voice. "Do you perhaps have any idea?"
Saref was silent for a moment as he contemplated.
"There can be two reasons for that. One, you are strong enough to repel it. Second, the weaver who casted the spell intended it."
Dranreb nodded. "There's no way he intended it, right?"
"You are a cut above the rest alright. But we have no means to know for sure. One sure way to find out is by asking the dark high priest?" Then Saref's gaze turned to Nosrac who had now stopped shaking but rather, worryingly, still. "Perhaps this youngster had only managed to survive because he had shielded himself with dark magic… but it was certainly not enough. A moment longer with this healing and he would have shared the same fate as everyone else."
Dranreb sighed, relief flushed over him, but the lingering taste of despair remained ever bitter.
But with no moment of respite, a deafening roar shook the ground, and with a thunderous swoosh, Saref's barrier crumbled. Both men, eyes wide in fear, could only watch as the dark high priest hurled his spear with such a great force that it made a storm of red dust and a silver stream of light at its trail.
At the last instant, Dranreb heaved Nosrac and lunged to safety, but a second too late. The spear had, although grazed, disintegrated Nosrac's lower body into a swirl of red shower dissipating like a mist an instant after.
Dranreb cried out, his body shook uncontrollably. He knew the spear had him too, he was sure of it. But nothing happened. As if he was rather non-existent, it merely passed through his legs leaving him unscathed.
"Why.Why is this happening," He moaned, tears of agony streamed along his face. "What have I done to deserve this!"
Dranreb languidly dropped himself to the ground and curled himself. But a deep sinister voice allowed him no rest.
"Poor mortal."
A deep titter followed after. Dranreb quickly glanced at where the devilish laugh was.
An ethereal entity had emanated from the ground near the dark high priest and it was slowly approaching. It's as if darkness has taken a human form of its own, a body of pure black with a glowing red eye that seems to gaze straight to the deepest corner of one's soul. Its head was hairless, and its pointed ears stood out as it was coated with dark flames. Around the neck was a string with dangling mysterious pointed teeth decorating its upper body. While, on the lower part, it was dressed in a bright red G-string cloth wrapped around its waist that reaches until the knees, and cuffs of silver were wrapped around its ankles. Unlike the dark high priest, its feet touched the ground, but every step burned the ground leaving a trail of dark flames, each trailmark only snuffs itself out when the entity is five steps farther from each mark.
"I never expected gratitude from such evanescent creatures for what I have steeled myself to do. Certainly, tears are only for this moment, but soon it shall be laughter. I know this path of mine."
"W-who are you," Dranreb stuttered in cowering fear.
"Oh, I know you knew me all along, Dranreb, a mortal ruler."
"Saragnayan… Lord of Darkness."
"Good. Now dry your tears little mortal. There's more at stake here than those trifling tears of yours."
With nothing to lose, Dranreb with mustered courage spoke back in anger. This is the god who had brought misfortune. This is the god who had brought suffering. The god who has taken everything from him.
"You speak of goodwill when blood has pooled like a shallow lake in this place, speak of laughter when men can never laugh. What sort of god are you? Oh right, you are an evil god after all! The words of your tongue will never mean more than anything other than sadness and grief. You will never bring laughter to the hearts of men, and we… will… never… worship… you!"
Dranreb lunged towards Saragnayan. Gripping his sword tighter, he sheathed his sword with bright red flames, and slashed across Saragnayan's chest. With inhuman speed, striked a hundred strikes, a flurry of attacks that was said to leave anyone at its point minced. Deafening sounds of spellcasts and impact boomed wave after wave. The ground was burning, everything on his path was charred from the flames of his wrath. Then as a finishing blow Dranreb pulled back his arms and thrusted his flaming sword with all the power he could muster towards the dark entity. A huge gushing column of flames burst forth from his sword and exploded into a tremendous explosion that the ground shook, and the sand of the earth of where he stood was burning.
Stench of burnt flesh permeated the air, and thick clouds of smoke and red dust were rolling across the field. Dranreb, still filled with rage, whisked the surrounding air away with a wave of his sword that was now glowing red in heat. He might have beaten Sargnayan. A god! He was sure he hit him, he felt his sword slashed across something hard.
But an echoing laugh put an end to his victorious thoughts. "Impressive!"
Dranreb gnarled as soon as he saw Saragnayan's dark shadowy figure still standing. But with a flick of his fingers, the Lord of Darkness cleared the field of its clouds of smoke and dust, and yet what was more strange as Dranreb noticed was that it was as it was moments before he attacked. Saragnayan, discerning such a look of surprise, laughed again heartily.
"Oh you think you can kill a god with that power of yours? It's a mere drop compared to mine! But I give you credit for snuffing out the dark flames around my ears for a mere instant with your first strike. And of course, I was not too careless to have you mindlessly play around my precious field of sacrifice, so I had you transferred to a realm in the underworld ever filled with mists, and brought you back here once you were done. That shadowy figure you were fighting all along was merely an illusion. I was on this plane all the time," Saragnayan proudly narrated.
"Always had a good time playing with mortals." Laugh.
Dranreb helplessly dropped himself on the ground, tired and full of despair. Wait? Where is Saref?
"Where is Sa-"
"My lord, the time has come. Everything is prepared!" The dark high priest called out, he was now weaving spell after spell. Darkness covered the sun, and it was like a starless night. The formation glowed all the brighter, and the ground slowly trembled.
"Oh once-mortal-shaman you may proceed. I have wrapped around us a hidden barrier. So proceed with no haste, the other gods are blind to our deeds." Saragnayan spread his arms wide open theatrically.
"Are you gonna revive Varangao?" Dranreb weakly asked. He could only see spasms of bright lights as the dark high priest did his strange ritual.
Saragnayan chuckled. "No. Someone greater... I'm surprised you know about his death. It's a long story. Your kingdom's babaylan should have kept it from you and your people. Obviously, she had failed her task on this one."
"You...are you working with our babaylan?"
"Since ages ago. She was indispensable in this plan of mine."
Dranreb smashed his fist on the ground. "That traitor!"
Saragnayan snickered with mirth. "She has seen the nature of the gods in heaven. She had prepared herself for what's to come in the grand plan. Nothing will I tell you for now, but soon you shall know."
"Saref… where's Saref?" Dranreb crawled towards the god begging as soon as his thoughts reminded him.
"Worry not. He is alright. "
With a spurt of tears Dranreb helplessly wailed, "Nosrac… What about him?" He pointed an open palm towards Nosrac's lifeless body.
"Oh that kid? Dead," Saragnaya replied indifferently.
"Can't you do anything about him I beg you! Saragnayan, I promise I shall work for you as long as I live if only..
"Revive him? Seriously not you jest. Do you know what price one has to pay to revive someone? And I don't want to trouble myself by talking with the gods of the underworld. They are hideous and insane." Saragnayan visibly shuddered. Then with a passive voice he continued, "Besides, I have no need of him."
"You piece of shit! " Dranreb gnarled "You...are but a lowly god. A coward."
But Saragnayan remained undaunted.
"I promise… as long as I live… I and the people of Castel will never treat you like a proper god. You are a demon. An animal!"
"Oh please. You are but a miserable Rajah. A ruler without subjects. A ruler who has failed his people. Little mortal. Insignificant. Oh I retract that one." Saragnauan chuckled, scarcely bothered. Then he raised his right palm and produced a jet black serpent which shot towards Dranreb's neck and bit it, then it wrapped itself around and hardened into a sort of a metal. "For now… I shall give you considerable worth."
"Shit!" Darnreb without any chance to react at the sudden gesture groaned as he struggled to take it off.
"What have you done to me?"
"A gift. The Serpent of Domination. There are only 8 of these in existence. Just for you to know, no one can see and feel it other than the subject and the ruler," Saragnayan explained in glee. And then he narrowed his eyebrows as if he had thought of something clever. " Now I'll give you the pleasure of guessing its price… so guess.
"I will never… obey…you." Dranreb took his sword and slashed across his throat intending to kill himself. He thought that there is no merit in a life manacled by what one hates the most. Gaaahh!
Saragnayan watched along in mirth as the wound healed itself. "Only the master can end your life, so killing yourself by any means will not help. You will feel pain though."
"W-what have you d-done to me?"
"Now take a guess of its price. I will reward you one request… "
"Then free me.. Or die!"
"Oh my... You surely are full of punk. First, you have to be correct.. Or at least something around it. And any requests I shall tend to except I die or freeing yourself or anything I cannot approve of. Haha."
"You lunatic!
But the Lord of Darkness did not waver. He raised his palm and stuck out three fingers. "I'll give you three seconds."
Silence.
"1...2...and 3."
Silence.
Saragnayan shrugged. "Well in due time you shall know… and I shall await your reply. But now we shall sit back and witness history!" He faced towards the dark high priest and flung his arms wide open dramatically as if in presentation. "Oh you need not know the greatness of this act, mortal. But you shall witness the grand plan unfold. For this shall be the first of its kind. Now it is for me to reap the fruit of a god's lifetime of toil. My toil!"
The ground suddenly started trembling. The swarm of mananggals who had finished dragging the scattered bodies inside the magic circle started to recede droning on towards the gaping hole from where they came from.
Then letting out a loud grunt , as he was struggling, the dark high priest raised his silver spear towards the sky. A beam of silver light struck the spear from the sky enshrouding the dark high priest, eventually reaching the ground. The magic circle that was drawn around the area began to glow a silver light and soon it grew into a wall of light about ten feet tall tracing the circle. But it was no mere circle. If seen from the sky, it was indeed an octagram traced around with a circling line. And in its center were the bodies of slain men, hundreds of thousands of them, and a small lake of blood had pooled around it.
After a few minutes, the dark high priest waved his spear around and whispered a chant. A cold gust of wind blew as eight silver pillars, one from each tip of the octagram, emanated from the trembling ground. With lightning speed, silver chains shot towards him from each pillar. Two chains fettered him on each wrist, like so with his ankles, and upper legs. one on the neck and on the torso.
Meanwhile, Saragnayan had surrounded himself and Dranreb with a dark magical barrier, one where the caster can see what's outside but hid him from the sight of those outside.
"Don't move," Saragnayan ordered while still gazing at the scene unfolding. His excitement was obvious and for Dranreb it was tormenting. But as soon as the Lord of Darkness had spoken the words, his body stiffened and it was unbearably uncomfortable.
Like a child eager to disobey, Dranreb resisted but discovered not a single inch he could move so he reluctantly gave in. He was frozen in place, unable to shake in fear at the magnitude of the spell that was being casted by the dark high priest. This was something no mortal would never have the chance to see. Something only the gods can do. Or no, Saragnayan had mentioned this is the first spell of its kind. Had he invented this spell? Do the gods know about this? What is Saragnayan up to?
The dark high priest was now convulsing. His body has twisted into every convoluted shape even unimaginable by mortals. Doubts had started flashing in his thoughts. He knows that a spell that requires mortal souls has been forbidden by the great gods. This for sure will anger the gods, but Saragnayan, with his sweet words, had coaxed him with the prospect that this is the first spell of its kind. The first attempt at that! What is this? What has Saragnayan led me to do? Now he started feeling strength leaving his body, the silver chains had started sucking out his very life essence. He let out a wail. An unearthly cry. Oh gods! But then dark clouds started forming on top of him, circling and circling like a dark vortex that seems to pull one in deeper and deeper. He was suddenly drowned in a trance. His thoughts had drifted waywardly, and memories of once he was a mortal flashed at his mind. Memories. Sadness. Regret. Happiness. Why?
An eye appeared at the north sky which instantly alarmed Saragnayan causing him great distress. He knew this would happen. The gods of the underworld had seemed to notice something out of the ordinary had happened with the sudden disappearance of a hundred of thousands of souls when it seemed that no mortals had died. But with the barrier he had surrounded around the crater, no one should have been able to know. This spell was not just a barrier but something that imprisons the souls of men in their mortal bodies for a period after their death. Or perhaps the gods in heaven had started unraveling his spell. Impossible! It is a spell of which he had weaved for years to finish and no one had any knowledge of it!
"Thunderation!" Saragnayan cursed under his breath. He pointed a finger towards the meddling eye, weaved a spell, and zapped it with dark reddish lightning. Now he has to talk to the underworld gods after this.
Dranreb had no chance to speak. His jaws are locked in place. His eyes constantly opened bare against the spasms of bright lights and flying dusts causing his brain to shout in pain. Sweats had even stopped rolling, and his hair unbending against the gust of cold wind. He was locked in a state of torment. Everything, for him, seemed surreal. Extremely surreal.
Without any warning, a blast from a mysterious force from the sky shoved the clouds aside and a dark gaping portal slowly opened revealing a midnight blanket of stars. Gigantic hands can be seen stretching the gap wider and wider and then a dark hand with dark fiery chains fettered on its wrists snatched the dark high priest then dropped him. The dark high priest fell down like a lifeless doll, its radiance dimmed as it rolled along the ground.
Is he dead? Dranreb thought.
Saragnayan's jaw dropped open then dropped his body to pose a kneel and spread his arms wide open. "Mysterious. You are ever mysterious. The god of the unknown! Receive my sacrifice, and heed the request of your lowly servant!"
A god worshipping a god? Dranreb was dumbfounded.
Everything happened really fast. As soon as the mysterious hand dropped the dark high priest, it slowly sank back to where it came from and the portal closed. The dark clouds dissipated and a late afternoon sky greeted them.
"It is done!" Saragnayan cheered. He slowly rose from the ground and nearly moved to tears, he said, "You can now move mortal. Follow me."
Dranreb who was on his knees the whole time obediently followed, partly because he was rather curious and more of the unsurpassable urge to obey from the Serpent of Domination.
Dranreb scanned the surroundings. Everything looks normal. The ground. The sky. The Red Plain. It was as if nothing ever happened. The magic circle and the pile of human bodies were gone, and what was left was the lone seemingly lifeless figure of the dark high priest who looks battered and more of like a normal mortal being except with runic marks which are now not glowing and rather plain and the colossal size. And this made his stomach churn. No one will ever know about the atrocities done by the Lord of Darkness except him. Or maybe I can pray to the gods of heaven and divulge this.
But Saragnayan had seemed to read his thoughts as he addressed the matter. "You will never tell anyone about this. I cannot read your thoughts, but your sorry face had rather made it obvious."
When they arrived at where the dark high priest was, Saragnayan stooped down and touched the still figure. He felt the presence of a foreign soul. His hands trembled as he clenched it in victory."Success! It was a success…" Saragnayan exclaimed with obvious joy.
But then it was cut short for upon realizing the dark high priest was dead, he felt his chest warped in pain. Oh what tragedy is this.
Then Saragnayan offered a moment of solemn silence to pay his respect. A god in distress? This was not something he had expected to happen. He reached out and gently closed the dark high priest's wide opened eyes and whispered under his breath, "What sort of hell have you seen my friend? All of this because of me."
But there's nothing to be done, he thought as he stood up and steeled himself. And he somehow managed to shoved aside the lingering mix of emotions of which he had never felt before. He heaved a sigh and moved on.
"Now for the final step…" He glanced at Dranreb and wryly asked, "Now what sort of face would you like… like that kid's face?"
"W-what do you mean?" Dranreb felt his chest pounded for an instant there. Is he gonna revive Nosrac? He thought. He gulped a lumped of saliva and asked, "Are you going to revi-"
"No. This is another matter. But I'll take that as a yes from you."
Dranreb felt his shoulders dropping and his heart wrenching in despair.
With his dark hands, the Lord of Darkness weaved a spell, procured a golden pouch, tipped it over his palms and a pure white seed rolled over. The divine seed. Then he stooped down and planted the seed on the sand. With another motion of his fingers, he produced a dark flask and poured its contents over which pooled on the red ground almost synonymous with it. It was human blood.
"Usually, the divine seed takes at least nine months to fully mature, but with human blood and with time magic this process is shortened. Mind you, time magic does not work on objects or things larger than your palms unless you are the god Kaptan. And creation magic is out of our reach too. But someday…" Saragnayan mumbled as he carefully worked on his mysterious project. Creation magic, a spell that only a transcendent being or a high ranking god can weave. And it was something that was out of bounds for Saragnayan, but he had acquired a godly item that was hidden deep among the treasuries of the god Maguayen, the divine seed. The divine seeds were gifted to Maguayen by the highest god Kaptan to allay her broken heart after her sons were slain by the latter god, instructing her to plant it. The plant, after nine months of warm care, grew into a huge bamboo plant and out of it were the first man and woman.
Now he needed to form his creation with his will just like Maguayen had wished for a son and a daughter when she took care of the seed. But this time it was to be a young boy. He mustered his concentration and focused on a certain image and desired attributes.
In the span of an hour, the seed broke free from the earth, then formed into a bamboo shoot. Then it started growing until a greener stem protruded on top of the cone, then leaves started forming, until the shoot was no longer visible and a full grown bamboo plant had taken its place towering over the Dranreb and Saragnayan. Saragnayan flicked his fingers and a crack appeared along the huge stem.
"Force it open," the Lord of Darkness ordered.
Dranreb, without any chance of defying, obeyed. He placed his hand on both sides of the stem, and with great force, split it open, and out appeared a naked child of about twelve years of age.
"I had the opportunity to appear before the mysterious god once. I was experimenting around with dimension spells and accidentally entered his realm…" Saragnayan peered his eyes over Dranreb who was now gaping at the miraculous sight in visible disbelief. "We had a rather productive discussion and we made some deals. And the grand plan was formed. I'll tell you now… " His voice turned grave and heavy, emphasizing that it was a matter of great urgency and importance. "This will be the salvation of you mortals."
Then he approached the naked child that came inside the bamboo plant and stabbed its stomach with his hand. The boy, wide-eyed, stared at him. Confused about what to express after feeling its first pang of paing, the child weakly drooped its head and wailed in tears. Then after another shove to the child's stomach, the Lord of Darkness pulled out a white luminescent orb and crushed it with his palms. The child was now dead.
Dranreb stood there astounded and confused. His astonishment was replaced with sheer anger. Shit!
The Lord of Darkness had made a human body with a face in perfect resemblance to Nosrac; but why kill the child? Dranreb's thoughts were racing with several possibilities at once searching for an answer.
"Heartless lunatic!" he finally managed to blurt out in anger.
But Saragnayan paid him no heed. Instead he walked towards the lifeless dark high priest and hovered his palm over the corpse' gaping mouth and weaved a spell. A white luminescent mysterious orb popped out which he brought towards the dead pale child which had now dropped to the ground and had curved into a sitting position with its knees on his face.
Saragnayan weaved a spell with his free hand, and the child's corpse languidly stood up like a puppet on strings. Then ever slowly and gently, he opened the boy's mouth, dropped the orb, and weaved a spell. After what seemed like an eternity during an eerie silence, warmth spread throughout the boy's body and his pale countenance was replaced with that of a sleeping child resting peacefully. It was a healing spell that restored the boy to his unblemished form. The scene was indeed surreal.
"These orbs are merely a shell. Encased within one is the precious mortal soul. Oh pure and beautiful. But once sullied with the colors of this world… should it be brighter than the sun or darker than the underworld? But this soul that I have placed in this tiny body is not of this world. This soul costs hundreds of thousands of men. And from this kid, I expect great things. Ohhhhh.." Saragnayan shuddered in excitement.
Dranreb watched his every move. Wary and curious. He had found the act contradicting. The Lord of Darkness who had caused such tragedy has now begun to create life. But one life can never equal the worth of the hundred of thousands who had lost theirs. He stood this ground unwavering. This god is an evil god.
And so, in the silence of the early evening. Where the sun is now barely peeking at the edge of the dome and the sky was shaded with a mauve and russet color, a nearly silent voice can be heard. Deep and gentle. It speaks of a loss so great and a pain unbearable, it spoke the words:
"Rest in peace, Plak. May your soul ever rest in the halls of the highest heavens. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten. Always I shall recall a memory of you."
It was the Lord of Darkness. His deep trembling voice reverberated around. Then he held the dark high priest's lifeless body and burned it with unearthly dark flames purer and warmer than what Dranreb had ever seen and felt. Its ashes danced around the air and then flew off farther away to oblivion. He knew it was a genuine act of grief. Was it?
"It seems like the gods of the heavens had seen my deeds," Saragnayan gravely said. He glanced towards the northern sky as if pointing something out. "So indeed my barrier cannot hold these meddling gods for long, but this is good enough." He grinned in victory absent of the remorse he had shown earlier.
Yet Dranreb followed his gaze. True enough, a streak of light was fast approaching. He did not know what to feel. But if ever Saragnayan is defeated, then justice is served. Now he feels rather triumphant. Salvation is coming. The gods have finally arrived. But for what? He slowly realized. And a surge of anger rose from within him. Fuck these gods!
But Saragnayan's voice showed no hint of fear as he spoke.
"Raise the child mortal Rajah. I will always be watching you, and shall only interfere when I see the need to. Raise him like you would raise your son... make him a warrior." Then with a stern voice he continued, "But never… ever… mark his body with the ancient mark of the Visyanen warrior on the rite of passage. You will never approach a god or seek their counsel. Seek my counsel from your kingdom's babaylan. Finally, you will never hand the child to anyone or harm him. All of this I order you!"
Then with a wave of his hands, a portal appeared beneath their feet and with a flash they were in a different place.
Dranreb felt his body in a momentary dissonance as he tried to grasp what just happened. Teleportation spells were like a myth. No one had ever seen one or even weaved it. But a deep voice disturbed his thoughts and he was pulled back to reality.
"This is near your kingdom. Now... I shall take my leave. "
Then like a fading dark mist, Saragnayan was gone.
Now all that remained was the sound of the night, the beckoning cuckoos of the night coucals signalling its the time to sink oneself in the nighttime repose and the lively cricket sound shrilling in the air intermittently. All around were dark silhouettes of trees gently swaying with the light cool breeze, and the silver moon was perched along on top of the gallery, glazing its bright light over the multitude of stars. It was peaceful. It was as if a fierce battle had never taken place.
"It's over,"mumbled Dranreb over and over again while shaking. I should calm down. Calm down. He mustered his deepest inhale and slowly exhaled. He inspected his surroundings.
Dranreb recognized the area. True to his words, the Lord of Darkness had transported them into a forest near the royal abode. He felt a surge of urgency, he wanted to dash towards home and maybe time had perhaps reversed and everyone was still alive. Or perhaps this was just a dream. Or perhaps the tragedy had never happened. His heart sank as he wholeheartedly wished.
But then his memories came flushing in, one by one, scenes of death and horror flashed in his mind. He trembled once again.
How shall he face his people?
The wives or the mothers who long for their husbands return?
How can he face them?
What words will suffice?
There is no way things have happened this way right?
But then he heard a low rustling sound beside him. His body instantly tensed and jerked to a defensive stance.
But it was just the child. A brutal reminder that the tragedy had taken its place with utter certainty. The thought made him winced in despair. Then a surge of anger welled up from inside him. It really seemed like a god's sport to watch him suffer in anguish as he lives his days with a child who looks like Nosrac to ever remind him of the tragedy.
But a rather strange relaxing emotion sprouted from within him, he somehow felt the need to embrace the child as he gazed at him. He obediently obliged without any resistance as he slid his fingers underneath the light body and held it. The child was warm. Fragile. Soft.
He felt a pump of mysterious feeling from within himself. Perhaps is it because of that order that I shall treat him like a son? Desperately, to find any resistance, he tried finding any lump of hatred in his heart but it was quite odd that he found none. Now the urge of raising him has completely overtaken him. And he felt a cruel pang of pain in his heart.