With a sudden jolt, she aggressively flung her eyes open, her body instinctively sitting up. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead as her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breaths labored and heavy, as if she had been running from an unseen terror. The echoes of the harrowing dream still reverberated within her, clinging to her senses like an unwelcome visitor. Yet, as she glanced around, taking in the safety of her surroundings, a glimmer of realization pierced through the haze of fear.
"It was just another dream," she reminded herself as her trembling hands found solace in the steadying rhythm of her heartbeat.
Gradually, the clamor of anxiety subsided, leaving behind the palpable remnants of her awakening nightmare.
She glanced around and saw her father hovering over her in his pure white robe, a worried look on his face as he handed her a glass of water. She had been seeing him all her life, but even now, she couldn't get used to the strong magical aura that emanated from him.
It was understandable, though; after all, he was one of the six lords and the leader of the Athreal Clan.
He was over a hundred years old, but besides his white hair and beard, he looked nothing like his age. His physique was a testament to his remarkable strength, defined by a robust, muscular frame that exuded power and resilience.
Standing tall and commanding, he possessed an imposing presence that left an indelible impression on all who encountered him or, in her case, a haven and a symbol of protection for her and her people.
His broad shoulders and chiseled features echoed the resilience that lay within, a living embodiment of endurance and fortitude. It was a physique that commanded respect, evoking a sense of awe and admiration for the sheer might and unwavering determination he possessed.
"Was it that dream again, Ava?" he asked.
"Yes, Father..." she heaved as she took the glass from his hands. "But this time, it was different."
"In what way?"
"This one felt different... it felt real. And for the first time, I saw the monster," she replied as she took a sip from her glass, trying to dismiss the scary image in her head.
"I could tell. I've never seen you this distressed in any previous ones," her father said, placing a hand on his chin.
"What else did you see?" he continued.
"Well, there was a man."
"A man? Who was he?"
"I'm not sure, Father, but he had a sword made of shadows a—"
Before she could utter another word, a sudden gust of frigid wind swept through the room, filling the air with an eerie chill. The atmosphere was tense as if the elements responded to her unfinished statement. In that fleeting moment, she saw her father's widened eyes and immediately knew this was his doing.
"A sword of shadows?" he asked, the look of astonishment still stuck on his face.
"Yes, Father. What is wrong?"
"Ava," he started as he sat beside her, "I need you to tell me everything."
Curious to know what had caused the uncharacteristic change in her father's demeanour, she told him everything she had witnessed in that nightmare of hers. She made sure to leave out no detail as she narrated her ordeal from the start to her heart-wrenching fall into the abyss. She watched her father grow increasingly concerned as she went on, and as she concluded, she could tell that whatever was coming next would be far from pleasant.
"What is it, Father?"
Rising back to his feet, he regained his composure effortlessly, his presence emanating an air of calm and stability once more. The room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief as his aura regained its familiar equilibrium, restoring the tranquil atmosphere that surrounded him. However, even in his restored state, there was an undeniable unease in his eyes, a subtle hint of distress beneath the facade of serenity.
It was evident that something about her dream had rattled him, unsettling his core in a way she had never seen before. The weight of his hidden distress lingered in the air, silently conveying a deeper concern that she couldn't comprehend yet.
"The creature you encountered was a Gorax," Ava's father started. "An abomination from the depths of darkness itself. The worst monsters to ever plague our world."
"A Gorax? But you've never mentioned them before."
"I never thought that I would have to. There shouldn't be any of them left in existence unless..."
As if to gather his thoughts, he gracefully paused, his hand instinctively finding
its place on his chin, a familiar gesture that bespoke his deep introspection. It was a mannerism etched into Ava's memory over the years, a subtle cue that signaled his engagement in thoughtful reflection.
"What about these Gorax makes them so dangerous, Father? And why do I keep seeing one in my dreams when they don't even exist anymore?" she inquired, her voice laced with concern.
"I do not know, Ava. They are just dreams, and they will remain that way," he said compassionately as his fingers stroked her red hair.
"What else have you failed to tell me, Father? You know how much I enjoy hearing tales of the past," she gently took his hand in hers and placed a soft kiss on the back of his palm.
"They are not just tales, Ava. They are memories; I witnessed them, the wars, the horrors. They changed me, and they changed the world. Do you still want to hear them?" His eyebrows tucked to back his statement.
"Yes, Father, I need to douse my curiosity."
"Over a hundred years ago, harmony reigned among the seven tribes; each assigned distinct roles and responsibilities. Our clan, devoted to healing, served in the infirmaries and provided unwavering support to the military. The Vandemeer Clan, a community of esteemed scholars, safeguarded invaluable ancient texts and scrolls vital to our collective advancement. The Putians commanded the earth and air, the Zendyrs held sway over water and all Metals, and the Radirs controlled the fierce force of fire and blood." He watched the excitement build on her face as he told her about the civilization of old.
"In stark contrast," he continued, "the Bolos Clan, dwelling in the northern mountains, boasted formidable warriors renowned for their unbeatable strength and fearlessness. They were widely known as 'the clan that knows no fear.' Yet, amidst this tapestry of prosperity, an ominous group existed—the Bannite Clan, the outcasts of our society. Notorious for their mastery in manipulating darkness, they were named Shadow Soldiers. Sadly, their domination ambitions shattered our unity, dispersing us across the lands. The memory of this division weighed heavily on our hearts, a sorrowful chapter in our shared history."
As he recounted these events, the gravity of the tale weighed heavily upon his expression. He turned to Ava, offering her a moment of silence, recognizing the overwhelming magnitude of the revelation before finishing the rest of the tale.
It was a story laden with heartache and tragedy, the ill-fated path forged by the Bannite Clan when they unleashed the fearsome Gorax, driven by their hunger for power and control. Their bid for supremacy turned catastrophic as the force they sought to harness spiraled out of their grasp, leading to their near extinction.
"So, the man in my dreams was a Bannite?" Her eyes widened in anticipation of the answer.
"If you described him correctly, then ye..."
Their conversation abruptly halted, swallowed by the shrill wails of blaring alarms and the clamour of frantic footsteps outside their tent. In an instant, the tranquil ambiance shattered, replaced by an atmosphere tinged with trepidation. A member of the clan rushed in. His breaths hurried and labored, and his hand pressed to his chest to quell the rapid pounding within.
"What's happening?" The Athreal Clan Lord's voice betrayed urgency as he sought answers from the distressed newcomer.
"Monsters, sir!" the young man gasped, beads of sweat glistening on his anxious face. "They're attacking the village!"
The declaration was met with disbelief, the lord's eyes widening in shock. "Impossible!" he exclaimed.
For generations, the Athreal Clan had known nothing but tranquility, embracing a harmonious existence that eschewed walls and conflict. Living in harmony with nature and nurturing injured creatures, they had no cause for war and had remained isolated from the other clans for decades. Yet, the idyllic veil was brutally lifted, and chaos engulfed the once- serene village.
Panic-stricken, the inhabitants scattered in disarray. Their efforts to escape only served to play into the hands of the relentless attackers who ransacked the camp with ruthless precision. In the face of this unprecedented assault, the Athreal Clan was left to grapple with the terrifying realization that their peaceful existence had been shattered.
"Are they wild animals?" the Athreal Lord asked.
"No sir, they are nothing like any animals I've ever seen in my lifetime."
"Lead me to them," he commanded.
"Yes, your lordship." The man bowed as he started to head out.
"Stay here, Ava."
"No, Father! Let me come with you."
"We don't have time for this; the village needs me."
"They need me too, Father!" she yelled in response. "I can't just sit still and watch my people suffer."
"...Alright, Ava. But you need to always stay close," he reluctantly surrendered.
They stepped outside to meet one of their attackers, baring its fangs against a group of children, and both Ava and her father could not believe their eyes as they came to terms with the reality of what was happening. A horde of Gorax was attacking them.
With incredible speed, the Athreal Lord pulled out his dagger and stood between the shadowy menace and the children, and with a flawless strike, he decapitated the predator.
"Ava! Lead the children to safety," he ordered. "I have to take care of the rest of the Gorax."
"No, Father," she protested, but all she could do was watch his retreating form leave.
With newfound courage and determination, Ava swiftly executed her father's orders, taking charge of the situation with unwavering resolve. Guiding the frightened children and rallying the survivors she encountered, she led them through the chaotic turmoil, forging a path toward the camp's exit. Amidst the commotion, a young woman's desperate cries for help reached her ears, muffled under the weight of tent debris. Ava instinctively followed the pleas, navigating through a torrent of fleeing clan members.
Upon reaching the trapped woman, Ava gestured for her to remain calm, seeking to reassure her amid the turmoil. Despite her valiant efforts, the debris proved immovable, momentarily stalling Ava's progress. Undeterred, she swiftly scanned her surroundings, her mind racing to find a solution amidst the chaos. Regrettably, nothing within her reach could aid her in lifting the cumbersome obstacle. Her contemplation was interrupted by the menacing growl of an approaching Gorax, its proximity sparking a surge of adrenaline within Ava.
Summoning her inner strength, Ava braced herself, casting aside any doubt or fear. With determination etched on her face, she leaned over to the distressed woman, mouthing a silent prayer before mustering all her might. The Gorax's growls grew louder, signaling its imminent presence, but Ava remained steadfast in her efforts.
Summoning her courage, she heaved with all her strength, finally freeing the trapped woman and alerting the creature to their presence.
"Thank you, Princess Ava," the blonde-haired woman said to Ava before healing her wounded leg with the power of Athreal magic. Though Ava outwardly maintained a composed demeanor, a flicker of jealousy momentarily crossed her face, yearning for the gift that the young woman possessed.
Shaking off her envy, Ava swiftly focused on the task. "Can you run now?"
With reassurance from the healed woman, Ava knew she had saved another life, reaffirming her purpose amidst the chaos and destruction.
"Good, we are going to run towards the forest," Ava announced as she held the hem of her blouse in preparation. They both nodded in unison before they launched themselves towards the clearing.
Before they could get far, the Gorax chased after them, growling in anger and excitement over anticipation for its next meal. Its shadowy form absorbed the gleam of the midday sun. The girls ran for their lives, and as soon as they reached the camp's border, Ava tripped on a boulder.
Startled, she quickly regained her composure, but it was too late. The young lady she saved was nowhere to be found, and she couldn't blame her.
She slowly turned around and saw the hideous beast that attacked her clan, the same one that had tormented her dreams. It was probably the darkest thing she had ever seen, and now her dream started to make more sense. The only difference now was that no one was coming to save her ... or so she thought.