I awoke.
"My king," a young woman with fiery red hair said, prostrate on the floor in front the foot of my bed. "Welcome!"
"Who..." My words interrupted with a yawn born from supernatural fatigue, "...are you?"
"I am Lutucin, your Hand." She answered.
"Where is Titucin?" I demanded, feeling a pang of anxiety as I braced myself for her answer.
"Let's dress your majesty." She replied, "Your advisors await in your court."
I arose from bed, sore and stiff from gods-know-how-long of slumber. I stretched my aching muscles while Lutucin selected robes from my numerous wardrobes. She helped me into my attire and brushed my hair, while I fought against the lingering exhaustion. I must have needed more time in hibernation to replenish my expended mana.
A torturous cycle. At first, I enjoyed the immortality granted to me by Father. I was created as the custodian of the Cin'talvir, to regrow our people from their souls after they age into oblivion. Hundreds of millennia rushed passed. I befriended each of my people; everyone growing closer than family.
I remained eternally youthful. I was design as such. Watching as my friends grew older, as everyone matured from a toddler into an adult over thousands of years. The stronger of my kin learned to slow their aging, two even to stop it. They were my closest confidants, my hands and feet.
Titucin became my lover, but I was unable to bear children as any child of mine would never age. Forever cursed to remain an undeveloped fetus.
Junicin became his wife, the two sired a family of themselves and two sons- Quenstucin and Bavlorucin.
The five of use grew inseparable as we remained immortal while our people developed civilization along with other sapients of the continent. We watched as our people invented trade, agriculture, architecture. They originally viewed us as gods, but we corrected their belief. The true gods did not spend their days as flesh on the land.
Then, they hailed us as rulers. The perfect leader unable to die and unable to change. Every ten thousand years a special ritual of reincarnation was held for those who perished interim. Within everyone's heart lies their soul, an indestructible crystal. I would gather all of the soul shards left behind and reconstitute new bodies, just as my father did to create us.
After a million years, the size of the population grew beyond a comfortable amount to reincarnate. Still, it was my duty. I taxed myself to pull together wisps of dirt to make my people flesh again, but the cost was a new experience- exhaustion. My own soul would use its mana to shape thousands of bodies for the Cin'talvir.
All of my friends from the days Father walked with us had passed by this point, even Bavlorucin was reincarnated into a new being. Titucin and Junicin mourned for a thousand years. I still have not forgotten.
After another million years, mere exhaustion no longer satiated the price to create life. I collapsed during a ritual, Titucin had to carry me to the temple we reigned from. I slept. No longer the perfect immortal ruler Father intended, my responsibility grew beyond reason. Soon, entire centuries of rest followed each time I reincarnated the masses.
Several thousand years ago, Quenstucin passed on into his next life. This broke Juni... She had me reincarnate her with him, to live together in their next life. Only Titucin and I remained from the first age. I began to gorge myself with food then, my stomach slowly swelled.
Now, I reached deep into my heart, using my extra-sensory perception to judge the weight of my soul. Just a shaving over half. I would need almost one-thousand more years to refill my power or another divine intervention.
I thought back to the last rebirth, Tutucin and I sang with our people as we feasted without end. My belly so large and full that each bit pained me. After the festivities, that ritual to reincarnate those of my people who passed used nearly all of my soul. I cannot fathom the burden required by the next or the one after that. As much as I enjoy having more and more people to care for, I sometimes wish it were not such much.
Leaving my bed chamber, I walked with measured steps, my robes whispering against the polished floor. We passed through long corridors, unusually absent of staff. Lutucin opened the rear-door to the throne room, announcing my arrival. As I approached the dais, my attendants parted, allowing me a clear path to my throne. I took my seat, my eyes searching the crowd for the last of my comrades from the first age.
Instead of Titucin, all that I found among my court were the desolate faces of those who had endured so much in my absence looking expectantly toward their king. I sat, shaking off the remaining stiffness from the thousand-or-so years of laying in bed.
My Hand began to explain. "After you entered your slumber, a new race appeared from across the deep seas..."
Her eyes unable to look into mine, her gaze danced around my face and body, "Their warriors were weak. They brought sharp sticks, unable to pierce our skin. After a couple centuries they returned....
"They replaced their sharp sticks with fire magic." Lutucin continued, "At first their magic was harmless, turning into pebbles upon our skin, but these pale demons live pithy lives. Born, mature, die within years. They innovate quickly and improved their magics."
Finally she met my gaze, full of sorrow as she remembered, "After a dozen generations that useless fire magic turned into painful attacks. Our skin still turning the spells into pebbles but now inside of our bodies, where it makes us bleed."
"The bleeding would stop, but then later, mere days, a hidden curse would reveal itself." A shiver ran through her body, "Our warriors complain about pains in their heads and stomachs. Sometimes their skin would turn red. Sometimes their legs or arms would rot off. We lost hundreds to this delayed voodoo."
"After loosing to many to this dark magic, our best healers discovered that if you removed the pebble and used purification magic the curse would be nullified, except a new one sometimes would occur." She added, "This one suffocates its victim unless healing magic is immediately applied."
"Just as we learned to cope with their curses, their fire magic improved again. Now capable of piercing fully through ones body before the spell turns into an oblong misshapen bead. Before we could even adapt, their magics improved again. Larger spells cast from further away. And they learned taming magic, bringing great horrors from their homeland. Most knew fire magic too! A beast with magic!" Her voice slowly rising from anger at the history our people endured.
"And their war-beasts use greater magic!" She calmed herself before continuing, "With spells that tear through even magically reinforced bodies and monsters from beyond our shore that can level buildings, our allies were driven to the borderlands of the continent. Worse yet since these demons reproduce quickly, in mere years they have an entire generation of warriors to replace their losses. And each generation brings stronger magics and bigger war-beasts."
"I am sorry my king. After a thousand years of war... The greatest of their beasts flew above our cities even Fij'Kalweith, raining destructive spells down onto our homes. Tutucin sacrificed himself to shield the palace from the raid."
"Bring me their soul shards," I commanded, my voice echoing through the grand hall.
"These attacks... so, some really..." Lutucin's voice wavered with a mixture of fear and frustration.
"Speak," I urged, needing to understand.
"Our majins fought theirs to a standstill for centuries, refusing to yield even a blade of grass." She gulped, terror stricken across her face, "But a few of decades ago, they tamed a beast that can unleash a magic that turns us into motionless shadows; shadows without our seeds left behind."
"Truly?" I asked, my voice filled with disbelief and growing anger.
"Yes, my king," she confirmed, bowing her head in sorrow.
I turned away from her, looking toward the foot of the dais below my throne, then raised my brows, examining the faces of my subjects. I tried to search for the right emotions, but I only found hollowness unable to accept her words as truth. She was young, at most a thousand. Perhaps she had been deceived; they all had been deceived.
"I pray that our peoples souls are safe, but if these foreign majins can destroy our vessels of reincarnation," I began, my tone contrary to the gravity of the situation she suggested, "then perhaps I might finally rest eternally."
Lutucin stepped forward, her fiery red hair catching the light. "But your majesty-"
I leaned back in my throne before cutting off her words. "I envy you. Only I shoulder the burden of memory! Titucin was... when I reincarnate him I will not regain the friend I lost! I seek freedom of my cycle of torture, free from the solitude of immortality. You do not comprehend my responsibility! I never even asked for it!"
The room fell silent as my words sank in. My attendants exchanged worried glances, unsure of what to make of this new revelation.
Lutucin stepped closer, her eyes fixed on mine. "I understand the pain of loss, my king."
'NO! YOU DON'T!" I yelled, unable to restrain myself. "I was made to suffer! I see that now. Everyone else has new lives, new memories. But I cannot! I live!"
Tears welled in her eyes, "I Do! He was not just your friend!"
"What?" I growled at her condescendingly, "Was he yours? You are barely over a millennia. Twelve hundred at most! Such short friendship to cry over."
"H-he... He." Her tears now full-fledge crying, the kind of messy sobbing a child does, "He was my dad!"
Shit. I covered my eyes with my hand to hide from the embarrassment as Lutucin wailed into hers palms.
Internally, I searched for a solution. Some reason or justification for my actions but the only thing I found was guilt. I could no longer face my advisors- my kingdom. Face Titucin's daughter.
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of my decision. "I hereby abdicate my throne. Lutucin you are to rule in my stead, no longer just as Hand."
The room buzzed with hushed conversations as my attendants processed this information. I could see the fear and uncertainty in their eyes, but also a glimmer of hope.
Lutucin looked at me, her arms wiping away tears from her cheeks. "My king, I-I could not-"
"Not just of the throne," cutting off her words, I decided something greater.
I closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment of reflection. Then, I focused my energy feeling it surge within me like a tempest. With a deep breath, I reached out to Lutucin.
The ground quaked, and the air crackled as deep violet arcs of power danced through the throne room. I channeled the unfathomable energy into her, feeling my form shrink several inches and diminish in perfection.
Meanwhile, Lutucin grew in proportion. Her body matured and transformed to accommodate the massive influx of power. Her form refined, muscles and sinew adjusting to the newfound strength coursing through her veins. Lutucin's eyes glowed more golden, matching the intensity of my own. Her wings elongated, feathers darkening to a deeper hue, while her short, stubby horns extended into elegant curves. She looked familiar now. I recognized her, but I did not know why.
The rest of the aides looked on, their expressions a mix of awe, anxiety, fear, reverence, and jealousy. They shielded their eyes from the blinding light as it pulsed through the room, casting eerie shadows on the ancient stone walls.
As the transfer completed, the violet arcs faded, leaving Lutucin standing taller and more regal than before. The throne room fell silent, the energy settling into its new vessel. I stepped back, feeling the weight of leadership lift from my shoulders.
"Rise, King Luturiel, Second King of Qwix'Zolvirweh!" I commanded, my voice steady despite the exhaustion seeping into my bones from losing most of my energy.
Luturiel bowed deeply, her newly empowered form radiating authority and strength.
"You now bear the responsibility of power. Take your throne and lead your people" I added, dismounting to allow her to sit.
The energy of the throne room shifted, a palpable mixture of apprehension and determination among my subjects. I watched as Luturiel stood, the power of leadership now coursing through her veins. The flicker of light in her eyes grew brighter, illuminating her path forward.
As I looked at her, I saw the echoes of my past in her resolve, the strength that had carried me through countless years. "Guide everyone with wisdom and compassion," I said softly.
Luturiel bowed deeply, her fiery hair cascading around her face. "Certainly and I will do my best to honor your legacy, my king."
The room buzzed with hushed conversations as my attendants processed this information. I could see the fear and uncertainty in their eyes, but also a glimmer of hope.
As Luturiel began to organize the remaining council members and delegate tasks, I sat back, observing the renewed vigor in their actions. My heart swelled with pride and sorrow, trusting in her ability to lead.
"My beloved brothers and sisters," I spoke once more, gathering the full attention of everyone. "Trust in and stand by her as you would me. She will need your bests."
With those words, I stepped away from the dais. My body lighter, the weight of leadership lifting from my shoulders. As I walked through the grand hall, the familiar faces of my subjects watched me with a mix of reverence and curiosity.
Luturiel stepped forward, her eyes filled with determination. "Where will you go?"
I avoided the question, my voice firm. "Reincarnate those in the holy coffers. Give your dad a new life."
I must see for myself this magic myself.
She nodded, and the gathered subjects began to disperse, their morale renewed by my return. My people had suffered greatly in my absence, but they managed.
As I left the throne room, I felt the residual tremors of the power transfer still vibrating through the air. I walked through the empty corridors of my palace, each step echoing off the ancient stone walls. The palace was now Luturiel's domain, a place where she would forge her own legacy.
The grand hallways stretched before me, lined with the restored banners of our house. Each banner triggered a memory. I paused before one that depicted our great victory against the encroaching darkness. I could almost hear the triumphant cheers of my people and see the proud faces of Titucin, Junicin, Quenstucin, and Bavlorucin who had lived and laughed by my side.
I continued down the hallway, coming to the vast courtyard where we had celebrated countless festivals. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, bringing back memories of joy and music, of dances under the moonlight. I could see the ghostly images of my people, their faces alight with glee, moving in harmony with the rhythm of the celebrations.
As I stepped into the city streets, the cobblestones beneath my feet felt familiar and comforting. I walked past the market square where merchants once hawked their exotic wares. The sounds of bartering and the clinking of coins echoed in my mind. I remembered the vibrant colors of the stalls, the tantalizing aromas of street food, and the excitement in the eyes of children as they explored the bustling market.
I reached the residential district, where the homes of my people stood silent and empty. I paused before a particular house, its door slightly ajar. I could hear the laughter of shared meals, the whispered secrets of the night, and the heartfelt conversations that had taken place within these walls. The warmth of friendship and love filled my heart, and I felt a pang of longing for those simpler times.
Continuing my journey, I walked toward the farmlands that bordered the city. The fields were lush and red, the crops swaying gently in the breeze. I remembered the hard work and dedication of the farmers, their hands calloused from years of toil. I could see them in my mind, tending to their fields with pride and determination, their faces lined with the marks of a life well-lived while their shalps plowed new pastures to plant.
I approached the barriers that surrounded the farmlands, the translucent violet shroud shimmering in the sunlight. This barrier was my gift to my people, a promise of protection and safety. I touched the barrier gently, feeling the hum of the complex spell beneath my fingertips. It was a reminder of my duty and my love for those I had vowed to protect.
I turned back, pressing the memories from my vision. Sprawled before me, the ruins of the once magnificent Fij'Kalweth, its towers crumbled and its streets overgrown. The banners that had flown proudly now lay tattered and forgotten. My heart sank. The air was heavy with decay, and the distant sounds of battle echoed through the woods.
Softly, I spoke, "My beloved people. Return," using an infinitesimal portion of my power.
The wind carried my words to find every ear who I cared for. I must have a place prepared for them upon arrival.
This time, burning a good tenth of the power left within, I connected to the city around me. Everything from leaves to buildings, I now could feel. I raised my hand, pulling against the disrepair of the capital of my kingdom. The lands began to heal, the buildings to mend, and the overgrowth to retreat.
I channeled until the city returned to its former glory, then shifted my intent. A shroud, only passable by my kind, slowly enclosed the perimeter of the farmland around the city. A translucent violet barrier to keep those who would harm my subjects away.
Then I placed another defensive layer, this one to reject magic from anyone but me, this barrier thick with a complex shield spell, able to withstand most attacks. Gradually the mana encapsulated the selective shroud.
Finally, I buried the magic beneath an illusion, one only discernable by the Gilded Eyes my people possess. Anyone else would see an empty valley and walk into a solid dome and remain completely oblivious as they circumnavigated our land.
With a final glance back at the city I had restored, I pressed on into the forest beyond the barriers. The trees closed around me, their branches forming a canopy that filtered the sunlight into a dappled pattern on the forest floor. The air was fresh and filled with the scent of pine and earth. Birds sang in the treetops, and the rustle of small animals in the underbrush accompanied my footsteps.
As I walked deeper into the forest, memories continued to surface. I recalled hunting trips with my comrades, the thrill of the chase, and the camaraderie we had shared. I remembered quiet moments of reflection by the streams that wound through the woods, the peace and solitude that nature provided.
I came to a clearing where the sunlight broke through the trees, illuminating a small pond. I paused, taking in the serene beauty of the place. The birds began to sing my praises as I stared into my reflection within the water, pondering over the news of a powerful enemy hording our soul shards.
The path grew less distinct, and I veered off into untamed wilderness. As I ventured deeper, I stumbled upon ancient burrows and mounds, remnants of forgotten battles. The air around these sites felt heavier, charged with the echoes of past conflicts.
The largest mound drew my attention. It was larger than the others, covered in a thick layer of crimson moss and surrounded by an eerie aura. I knelt beside it, tracing the contours of the earth with my fingers. There was a sorrow here, a lingering blight that tugged at my heart.
My heart felt drawn towards the far side base of the mound, an attraction like a mother to her missing daughter. Buried beneath the carpet of purple grass and red moss was a crystal, shinning with ebon brilliance like a cloudless night sky. I carefully plucked the shard from the ground, swaddling it in my palms. I placed the soul under my robes, next to my heart.
Rising to my feet, I continued my journey, the forest growing denser. The trees seemed to close in around me, their branches intertwining overhead. I pushed through the underbrush, my steps careful and deliberate. Every now and then, I would find traces of ancient skirmishes—rust metal shafts, discarded pieces of unblemished steel, and the occasional skeletal remains, now almost entirely reclaimed by nature.
As the day wore on, the forest took on a more surreal quality. Lavender grass fell away to rising golden ferns that carpeted the ground, their delicate petals creating a striking contrast against the rich green foliage. It was in this otherworldly scenery that I noticed something unusual—a faint glimmer of ebon brilliance amidst the lavender.
Curiosity piqued, I approached the source of the light. There, nestled among the flowers, was another soul shard. Its dark identity contrast starkly against the vibrant backdrop, drawing me closer. I knelt and gently picked it up. The shard was warm to the touch, and as I held it, I could sense the remnants of a soul within, fragmented but still possessing a faint spark of life.
Carefully treading to not lose the lives nestled in my bosom, I rose and continued my journey. The presence of the seeds reinforcing the hope I held for my people. Even in the midst of desolation, hope still waited to be found, fragments to be gathered by those with the courage to do so.
The path eventually began to widen, and the dense woods started to thin out. The towering trees gave way to a more open landscape, and the voices of the wildlife blended into the sound of the breeze as the wood grew more distant. As I approached the outskirts of a destroyed city. A near wasteland compared to the former splendor of Fij'Nuwtey, the soul shards' gentle warmth seemed to grow faint, as if in mourning for the ruin that lay ahead.
I stepped onto charred and broken cobblestone. The city, once vibrant and full of life, was now a shell of its former self. Crumbling buildings, streets filled with debris and overgrowth, and the pervasive stench of rot filled the air. The sight of dozens of impoverished survivors huddled in makeshift shelters twisted a knife into my heart.
The last time I visited Fij'Nuwtey, Tutucin and I hunted an emerald jaguar without rest for days. The beast finally lost us just on the edge of the forest, after hearty laughter at our misfortune we decided to sample the merriment of the city while the rest of the party caught up.
I could almost hear the echoes of our laughter as we patronized the vibrant market stalls that lined these streets. The fresh char scent of savory sausages hanging from vendor's counters, a sweet strand of air advertising a baker's newest concoction, and the pleasant sound of children's voices as they busied the row to help their parent's errands.
Now, only shadows of the past remained. As I walked through the ruined streets, some of the natives noticed me. Their eyes, filled with anger and despair, fixated on me. They began to mock me with their gazes. A group of them, their faces twisted with rage, approached.
"You allowed our families to die!" one of them spat toward me, his voice trembling with fury. "You left us to suffer!"
I raised my hands in a placating gesture, trying to explain. "No one is truly dead. I can reincarnate them, bring them back—"
"Reincarnate?" a woman interrupted, her voice thick with disbelief and sarcasm. "We never found our fathers and our mothers! Our brothers and our sisters! No one left in Fij'Nuumanebahr! No one in Fij'Halxsintus! No one in all the coastal towns and villages! But YOU return to us? From your peaceful rest while we died true deaths."
Their words cut deep. The pain and suffering in their eyes were undeniable. They began to cast their magics, trying to harm me. I sighed, feeling a knife of sorrow stab my heart for what I had to do. With a simple thought, I froze them mid-air, their bodies suspended as if caught in time. I placed them in a trance, filling their minds with happy memories, a temporary reprieve from their suffering.
The experience was shocking, almost unbearable. The people I remembered were kind, generous, and harmonious. Everyone was willing to shelter a stranger in exchange for a story from afar. Parents cooked meals for neighbors' children, and the little ones played in the streets. Not this.
"There is unfortunately no such thing..." I quietly said as I turned from them. "I will bring them back. I swear to you."
Their anger was warranted. I indeed slept too long. If I had been here at the beginning... I would have denied a single hostile from walking on our shore.
I carried on, through the heart of the city. I walked on streets, now only recognizable as gaps between the rubble. I found more of the civilians alive but suffering.
People cowered in makeshift shelters, eating weeds from the gaps between cobblestones. Siblings stole food from each other, and infants were abandoned in broken alleys. The sight was too much to bear.
A group of young children approached, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow. They held their hands together, to anxious to ask for anything even while dying from starvation. One braver than the rest stepped forward and tugged on my robe.
"M-m-miss... Could we have some food?" She asked with a pained growl of her stomach.
How could a mother stand idly while a child dies? Especially one not even four hundred.
I pulled forth flowers from the weeds between the rocks. Flowing my magic into them, altering them, I prepared them a bountiful meal. The handful of dandelions shifted into a large banquet of fruits and vegetables, worthy of a royal feast.
The youngsters dived into the offering, gorging themselves for the first time in probably a century or two. I waited for a few minutes as they ate, before I mustered the strength to talk to them.
"Why have you not left to return to Fij'Kalweith?" I asked gently.
One of the older children, a boy with a wide look in his eyes, responded. "You heard the voice too?"
I shook my head. "No. I spoke those words. I was Zephiriel, your king."
The children exchanged wary glances. "You abandoned us!" the boy said, his voice filled with hate for someone he never met. A hate strong enough to turn him against the person who just fed him.
I felt a deep, overwhelming sorrow welling up within me. The sorrow of a parent who realizes their kids wish they die. This was not the legacy I had hoped to leave behind. Slowly, as the enormity of their suffering became too much to bear, I knew I had to act.
Expending another portion of my power, I focused on restoring Fij'Nuwtey. The ground trembled as I channeled energy into the rubble. Slowly, the city regained its form. The bodies of my people healed, no longer gaunt or injured. The air grew cleaner, and the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers filled the atmosphere.
As I finished, I felt a deep exhaustion settle over me. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. But Fij'Nuwtey was restored. A large gathering surrounded me as I channeled my power, their faces full of curiosity, denial, and mistrust.
"Harken to me! Cin'talvir," I began, my voice resonating throughout the world. "I was your king! But my former Hand Luturiel, now is. I implore you to travel to the capital. It is rebuilt. It is bountiful. It is safe."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, the crowd erupted into a cacophony of voices. Some whispered in awe, others in doubt. The tension hung thick in the air, a storm of emotions ready to break with the lightest push.
A man stepped forward from the crowd, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How do we know you speak the truth?" he called out, his voice loud and accusatory. "We've been deceived before!"
Others joined in, their voices rising in agreement. The mob grew restless, their anger and desperation threatening to boil over. I could see the distrust in their eyes, the fear that this was another cruel trick.
"Show us proof!" another voice shouted. "Why should we believe you?"
The crowd surged, their movement growing more frantic. I could feel their energy, a volatile mix of hope and rage, ready to explode if not handled carefully. I remained calm, standing tall and composed, even as the tide of skepticism and fear threatened to engulf me.
"I understand doubt," I said, my voice steady. "But look! This city was in ruins, and I restored it! I have given you a second chance, carved a safe haven. But be not satisfied with this city. Luturiel, your new king, awaits you at the capital protected underneath the best magics. She will lead you to a brighter future."
Their faces showed hesitation, but the restoration of their city was undeniable. Slowly, the mob's fervor began to wane, though skepticism still lingered in their eyes. The crowd began to disperse, their whispers now a mix of hope and uncertainty. The light had returned to their eyes, if only a flicker, but it was a start.
"I swear by the power that flows through my veins," I continued, "that you are no longer abandoned. Travel to Fij'Kalweith and see for yourselves the truth."
Leaving Fij'Nuwtey behind, I set my path for Fij'Halxsintus to the west. The journey drowned me the lush violet grasses of the vast plains that stretched between the two cities. As I walked, I marveled at the beauty of the landscape. The twilight sun illuminated the skies with deep shades of shamrock and fire. The grass swayed gently in the breeze, and the wildflowers spotted the fields in vibrant hues of blue and red. The scent of their pollens stimulated my nose as I trekked towards Fij'Halxsintus.
Steadily but seldom, I recognized some of the plants among the plain as medicinal. I began to collect the herbs and store them in the sleeves of my robes to use instead of needing to expend my magic.
The animals I encountered along the way seemed to sense something about me. A herd of deer grazed nearby, their ears flicking in my direction but showing no signs of fear. A fox, its fur a fiery orange, paused in its hunt to watch me curiously before darting back into the underbrush. Birds of various kinds sang their songs, flitting from tree to tree, their melodies filling the air.
After several days of travel, I came across a group of vagrant Cin'talvir. They were huddled around a small fire, their faces weary and worn from the harshness of their journey. As I approached, they looked up with cautious eyes, their hands instinctively moving towards the crude weapons they carried.
"Greetings," I said, my voice calm and soothing. "Could I possibly trade these robes for something more comfortable to travel in?"
They exchanged glances before one of them, a man with a scraggly beard and tired eyes, stepped forward. "What you offer?" he asked, his voice rough from disuse.
I reached into my robe and pulled out a small pouch filled with herbs and medicinal plants I had gathered along the way.
He inspected the contents, his eyes widening slightly. "Humph," he agreed, gesturing to a bundle of clothes by the fire. "Take you need."
I selected a set of plain, sturdy wrappings that would allow me to blend in more easily and not draw attention or snag along the way. Carefully, I slotted the two souls underneath my chest bindings. Then, I thanked them and continued on my journey, feeling a sense of relief as I left the last vestige of rule with the travelers in the night.
A few days later, I stumbled upon a field littered with the remnants of a recent battle. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, and the ground was stained with blood. As I surveyed the scene, my eyes were drawn to several large, greenish-yellow creatures sprawled across the field. Their bodies were bulky and oblong, their snouts exceedingly so. They were unlike any animal I had ever seen, their size beyond that of even the largest of the shalps that plow our farms.
One of the creatures had a massive puncture wound on its side, its black blood oozing out. As I approached, I realized that the beast was pregnant, its green, matte eggs clustered in its stomach. I shuddered at the sight, feeling a deep sense of revulsion.
Inside the beast, I saw two burnt bodies with missing wings and no horns. They must have experienced the misfortune to be the creature's lunch, but I felt no connection to them. They were not of my people.
Focusing on the connection to the souls of my man, I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind. The battlefield lit up like a smoldering log in a dying bonfire. I quickly gathered each crystal, tucking them beneath my chest wrapping. Over a dozen souls of my people were forgotten here, in a nameless field amongst hundreds of dead foreigners and six of their most foul beasts.
I felt a mixture of sorrow and hope as I looked around the battlefield. My people had been left to rot in this desolate place, their souls trapped and forgotten. But their souls were left.
Continuing through the night, I journeyed onward to the city of Fij'Halxisintus. The moon cast a pale glow over the thinning plains, creating long, haunting shadows that stretched across the land. Each step felt heavier as I drew closer to the city, a growing sense of dread gnawing at my insides.
The cool night air carried whispers of a forgotten past, and the scent of damp earth mingled with the distant memory of burning wood. The plains, once teeming with life, now stood eerily silent, the grasses thinning out until they were little more than sparse patches amidst the encroaching dust.
As I walked, the landscape shifted, becoming more desolate with each passing moment. The rich greenery of the forest had given way to a barren expanse, the stark contrast a reminder of the devastation that had swept through this land. My heart ached with each step, the memories of a once-thriving world flashing before my eyes.
The journey seemed endless, the rhythmic crunch of my footsteps the only sound accompanying me through the night. The horizon remained a distant promise, a silhouette of broken towers and crumbling walls standing against the starlit sky. As I pressed on, a sense of unease settled over me, the weight of my duty to my people growing heavier with each passing moment.
Finally, the shell of Fij'Halxisintus loomed before me, its buildings crumbled along the perimeter like the bones of a long-dead giant. The once-majestic structures now lay in ruins, their skeletal remains jutting out of the ground like jagged teeth. The sight of the city's decay struck a chord deep within me, a mournful echo of the grandeur that had once been.
As I approached the edge of the city, a slight tingle spread across my skin, a subtle but unmistakable sign of the soul shards buried beneath the ruins. The sensation was faint but persistent, a gentle tug at the edges of my awareness guiding me forward. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the task ahead, and stepped into the desolate remains of Fij'Halxisintus.
The air was thick with the scent of decay, the once-vibrant city now a ghostly echo of its former self. I moved through the rubble, each step a reminder of the lives that had been lost, the dreams that had been shattered. The city had become a graveyard, its streets lined with the remnants of a forgotten era.
I paused for a moment, allowing the weight of the scene to settle over me. The tingling sensation grew stronger, guiding me toward the hidden shards of my people. I knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but I was determined to press on. My people needed me, and I would not fail them.
I moved cautiously through the ruins, my steps echoing in the eerie silence. The slight tingle on my skin grew stronger as I neared the boundary of the city. My connection to the soul shards guided me like an invisible thread, pulling me towards the hidden remnants of my people.
As I sifted through the debris, the tingling sensation intensified, directing me to specific spots beneath the rubble. Each time I uncovered a shard, a flicker of hope sparked within me. These fragments of souls, though small, were tangible pieces of the lives that had been lost. They represented a chance to restore what had been taken, to bring my people back from the brink of oblivion.
The night wore on as I continued my search, my fingers digging through the cold, unforgiving earth. The sensation of finding a shard was unmistakable – a warmth that spread through my fingertips, a connection that resonated deep within my soul. I gently extracted each shard, cradling them as precious treasures.
After combing through a small section of the boundary, I paused to catch my breath. The process was physically and emotionally exhausting, but I pressed on, determined to uncover every shard. As I looked up, my eyes were drawn to the center of the city, where no buildings remained. An unsettling realization washed over me.
The absence of presence in the center of Fij'Halxisintus was like a gaping void, a dark hole where the vibrant heart of the city should have been. My connection to the soul shards, so strong at the boundary, faded to nothingness as I directed my focus inward. A cold dread settled over me, tightening around my chest.
I took a hesitant step forward, my eyes fixed on the empty space. The thought that haunted me grew louder with each passing moment. There should have been something there – a remnant, a trace, a sign of the lives that once flourished in this place. But there was nothing.
Madly, I dashed over the rubble, sprinting towards the open space where the heart of Fij'Halxisintus should have been. The absence of any presence gnawed at my sanity, an unbearable void that refused to be ignored. Unable to trust the lack of feeling, I threw myself into a frantic search, my hands plunging into the charred dirt with desperation.
The soil, still warm from some lingering ember of destruction, tingled against my skin, intensifying the connection to the soul shards. I moved with the speed of a tempest, my emotions propelling me to the very limits of my capabilities. No holds barred, I dug and dug, each frantic movement driven by the need to uncover some trace of my people.
Time lost all meaning as I tore through the earth, my fingers raw and bleeding from the effort. The night air, cool and indifferent, whispered around me as if mocking my frantic pace. Each handful of dirt and debris that I cast aside only deepened my sense of dread. I could not stop, I would not stop, until I found what I sought.
For hours, I labored irrationally, my movements growing more erratic with each passing moment. I left no spot of dirt unturned, my determination blinding me to everything else. My breaths came in ragged gasps, each exhale a mixture of frustration and sorrow. The void where the heart of the city should have been was a constant reminder of my failure.
Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the dirt and grime that coated my skin. My vision blurred, but I continued to dig, refusing to give in to the hopelessness that threatened to consume me. My hands trembled from the exertion, but I ignored the pain, driven by a singular purpose.
"No! No, no, no!" I screamed into the empty night, my voice breaking with anguish. "Where are they? Where are you?"
The soil beneath my fingers seemed to resist my efforts, each handful of dirt slipping through my grasp like sand. My heart pounded in my chest, a relentless drumbeat that echoed the urgency of my search. My muscles burned, my body ached, but I pressed on, refusing to yield to the despair that threatened to overwhelm me.
The morning sun broke over the horizon, casting its soft, golden light across the desolate landscape. I continued to dig, my hands trembling from exhaustion, but my determination unwavering. The soil beneath my fingers seemed to mock my efforts, each handful slipping through my grasp like water.
As the minutes stretched into hours, my movements grew more erratic, driven by a desperation that bordered on madness. Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the dirt and grime that coated my skin. My breath came in ragged gasps, each exhale a mix of frustration and sorrow.
"No! No, no, no!" I screamed into the empty morning, my voice breaking with unrestrained emotion. "Where are they?"
I dived towards another spot, one slightly less dug through, "Where. Are. You. Where are you? Where-are-you! WHERE ARE YOU!"
Tears hung in my eyes as my mana bubbled to the surface, a volatile storm of energy that split the air and ravaged the ground. Arcs of pure, violent energy tore through the environment, launching burnt soil in all directions. The crater around me grew slowly but steadily, a testament to my unrestrained emotion. I no longer cared how much magic I used.
The sky brightened as full daylight arrived, but the light did nothing to soothe my turmoil. I sobbed while scratching through loose soil, fueled by a maelstrom of thoughts that refused to be contained.
As my rage swelled, so did my magic. The arcs of energy grew fuller, expanding out with increased ferocity. The ground trembled beneath me, the power of my rage reaching the very edge of the city. Rubble was torn asunder, dirt overturned as my magic ripped through the landscape. Purple slashes of energy rent the air, their intensity overwhelming the light of the morning sun.
Betwixt the vortex of mana, my cries of mourning shifted into cries of anguish and rage. I was angry. Angry at myself for not being here when my people needed me most. Angry at my people for perishing under the assault of these invaders. But most of all, I was furious at the slayers of my brothers, my sisters, my children. My people.
Each scream echoed with the pain of loss and the fury of vengeance. The ground quaked with my power, the air humming with the intensity of my emotions. I was a storm, a force of nature, driven by a need to avenge my fallen people and reclaim what had been lost.
The ruins of Fij'Halxisintus bore witness to my wrath, the remains of the city trembling under the weight of my grief. I would not rest until every last soul shard was recovered, until every trace of my people's existence was restored. My rage fueled my resolve, a burning fire that refused to be extinguished.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, my cries continued to ring out, a symphony of sorrow and fury. The land responded to my anguish, the very earth bending to my will. The world wept with me. The sky grew black with a storm. The winds joined my howls with their own. The clouds shed tears of their own, and the ground tore itself asunder around me.
The land birthed a monsoon, a storm with magnitude to match my anger. A vortex of clouds descended around me. The gray winds ripped the dirt from the ground, turning the soil into a high-speed abrasive.
From within the storm, streaks of lightning pored into me- renewing my magic. I craved for power to avenge my missing brethren. No, the power to avenge my slain children. As the world fed me, my hunger grew. Our ideals united into vengeance. I needed this and She was more than willing to grant me my wish.
My horns elongated. My wings expanded. My senses sharpened. My power waxed. My mind focused.
I felt a snag on my heart. The shards beneath my clothes melted into my skin, sinking into my body and merging with my own vessel. I felt their memories of their lives flow into my mind, rebirth, life, death repeating in my head for eons.
I realized my my skin tingled here, why my hands felt so strange digging into the dirt. Small black grains of sand crept through the violent curtain of wind. They were my people, vaporized by the magic of the foreigners.
Their souls locked in unimaginable pain. The magic did not destroy our shards completely, leaving the origin of their minds frozen in a state of complete agony. The dust of my kin slowly penetrated my skin, sharing its torment with me. I endured. Endured until the last speckle of life flowed from the surrounding area into my soul.
The vessel of my power grew from each life sacrificed. My body now capable of feats far beyond the days of yore. Filled by the will of the world I explored the depth of my new energy. The feeling reminded me almost of Father. The space above me split as a bright hand reached for mine, to bring the new demigod into the land up high.
The world anchored me. She prevented my rapture. We wanted one thing. Apotheosis was merely a by product. I sealed the gate to the beyond with a wave.
I bellowed a cry most deep. The echo dispersed the storm and vaporized the land surrounding where Fij'Halxisintus once occupied. I froze the bands of mana radiating from me, pulling back each ounce of power I lost to my tantrum.
The purple lights flowed back into me from the soil they disappeared into. Wave after wave of violet violence returned to its creator. An unnatural sound vibrated the ground as the thunder from my arcs inversed.
I condensed my body, compressing my form into that of a regular Cin'talvir. No horns. No wings. Just a female shape with tan skin and white hair.
I descended to the earth, my mission ordained by nature itself. I was to spread the melody of vengeance of the sorrow of the Cin'talvir from the heart of the world to the ears of the pale-faced demons all they way to the land of their origin.