Four thousand years ago
Arashek stood amongst the destruction, watching his life burn away.
Flames roared in all directions, burning down all of the village's buildings. Things cracked and crumbled, collapsing down. The grainery crashed down behind him, groaning and falling forward under the flames' destructive might. Smoke reached high into the sky, obscuring the once-bright sky with one of smolder. Ash rained down, clouding the air.
Screams and yells pierced the air like a knife, reminding Arashek of his task. He had to get to his family. His house. He had to make sure those screams didn't belong to his kin.
Arashek stumbled to his feet, choking on a lungful of noxious smoke. It flowed through the town like a blanket of dark mist, forcing him to breathe it in repeatedly. It burned his lungs and throat as it went down, almost as if the smoke was the fire itself.
He stumbled through the village's dirt paths, trying his best not to breathe in too much. He fought the urgent crowds of people attempting to flee. They fought past him, shoving him out of the way in their haste to escape the town. Everyone, including himself, was coated in a fine black layer of grime. It made everyone look like they were made of charcoal or ash. Maybe even some kind of shadowy substance.
Arashek ran as fast as he could manage, tripping and stumbling over his own feet repeatedly. His cottage was in the town center, unfortunately. Right, smack dab in the middle of the attack. He hoped with all his might his family had already either found their way out or were somewhere safe.
Please, he thought, please be okay…
A couple more people carrying baskets and blankets pushed past him, knocking him down to the ground. He got up again, stumbling forward back into the run. He had to reach the town center. Quickly. He was being much too slow. What if…What if his family was in danger?
He soon approached the town center. At least, he reached where it should be. Fire engulfed the whole entire area, from the cottages to the meeting building. There was practically nothing left but ash, smoke, and cinder. It was…gone. All of it.
Horses pranced around in the clearing, hooves stamping across the dirt. Riders sat atop, shouting things to each other. They carried swords and torches, laughing as they threw them into the blaze. Arashek ducked behind a corner, hand over mouth.
"Clear out the buildings! Find the elder!" One of them shouted.
Arashek peeked out from around the charred corpse of a building, scanning the clearing. The man who had spoken sat atop a strong, white horse. The horse's white coat had been stained with soot, giving it a splotchy appearance. Its saddle was ornamented with various weapons, objects, and carvings. The man atop was leading the horse around in circles, giving commands and instructions to the other horse riders and men before him.
Arashek ducked back, moving away from the clearing and the man. He ran back to where the buildings were not quite as burned up and made his way around to his house in a big circle. This way, they wouldn't see him unless they came directly this way.
Crouching down, he dashed behind a couple of crumbled walls. He could see his house a few buildings down, just as charred as the rest around it. The strong building was, somehow, still standing. Although, it didn't look very stable. One of the four beams in the corners of the house had fallen, causing the roof to tip dangerously to the side.
The sound of hooves on the ground came from behind him.
Before Arashek could even think about what to do, he instinctively ducked around and behind the wall, and into the remains of another building. The wall barely obscured him, as most of it was burned away, but it was enough. Arashek held his breath and listened intently, waiting until the horse went away.
His heart hammered in his chest as he heard another set of steps trod toward the first. They stopped right behind him, on the other side of the short wall.
"Did you find anything?" One of them said. The other replied with a string of sounds that didn't make any sense to Arashek. The first man grunted and made another odd combination of nonsensical sounds. This went on for a while, back and forth, until Arashek heard the sound of retreating steps.
Arashek peaked up and over the wall. Both horses were galloping in the opposite direction of his house. The riders had their weapons drawn, shouting at something or someone. Arashek let out the breath he had been holding, shakily taking in another one. He took the chance given to him and took off toward his house. Better to get there before more horse riders came along and ruined his chances.
He walked up to his house and stared at it. One of the whole entire walls was burned off, along with that one missing beam. The whole building tilted to the left, groaning in the slight breeze. Arashek froze a moment, scared to enter. It looked like the house was going to collapse in on itself at any moment, along with anyone inside. If the roof fell in, the weight would surely kill him.
Arashek peered inside the wall, trying to see if anyone was even in there. Some of their belongings had been burned away or singed, but many were still in perfect shape. Compared to the other houses all around the village, he survived the attack fairly well.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to enter the house. If he was quick, he should be just fine. The house was pretty small; it would only take a few seconds to search through everything.
He quickly ducked through the large room, making whis ay to the only small side room. Arashek carefully opened the door, swinging it delicately. The wall moaned ominously even with him taking the utmost caution. He better hurry up.
The next room had already collapsed in on itself. Debris and rubble lay strewn across the floor, the remnants of two walls and the ceiling. A dim light shone through the missing ceiling above, brightening up the room.
Arashek took a quick glance around, spotting nothing in the rubble. He frantically moved a few bits of scrap and rubble but didn't find anything. That's when he spotted something sticking out from under a rock.
Arashek scrambled over, grabbing a chunk of the roof. With a shove and a grunt, he flipped it over and out of the way. It landed with a solid thud, making dust and grim spray into the air. He stared, in disbelief and shock, at the sight before him.
His mother and father, dead. Crushed by the roof. Aged blood pooled on the ground, beginning to turn brown with time. Their skin and hair were blackened and burned off by the flames.
Arashek grabbed his mother's charred wrist and clutched it tightly. It was still warm, despite the old blood on the ground.
"What did we do to deserve this?" He said.
Arashek got up and lifted his mother's corpse. He needed to get them out of there, so at least they could be given the proper rituals and burial; Otherwise, their souls would never rest. His parents, at the very least, deserved better than to sit and rot in a broken building.
He set down his mother outside and went to fetch his father. Refusing to look for long at his father's face, he picked him up as well, grunting with the effort. As he slowly made his way through the main room, the building swayed menacingly around him.
And then, something cracked.
Time seemed to slow as the beams holding the building up shifted forward and collapsed. The thatch roof shattered and splintered into millions of tiny pieces, raining down on him. Finally, the main section of the roof sagged inwards and split in half.
Arashek stared at the large piece of roof, only a short way away from his face, and realized something.
He was going to die.
Despite knowing this fact, he threw his arms above his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He braced for the inevitable impact of the heavy roof. It would crush him much in the same way it crushed his parents.
A few agonizing seconds passed. Then another. Nothing happened, so he remained in his posture, too scared to move or do anything.
He felt a sudden chill in the air.
Arashek flinched away, sliding swiftly to his feet and snapping his eyes open. He stared, wide-eyed, at the scene around him. The roof had completely fallen in, kicking up a swirl of dust and dirt into the air. The bright fire still crackled along the walls and edges of the building, threatening to destroy what little was left. However, Arashek felt none of its warmth. Instead, he felt unnaturally cold.
However, underneath a large chunk of debris, lay himself. His own dead body. It lay amongst the soot and grime, his own arm bent up at an odd angle. Arashek crouched down next to it, staring at it in disbelief. He attempted to grab the piece of roof and flip it over and off of his body.
Instead, his hand disintegrated.
It phased right through the solid item, splitting into tiny particles that somehow scattered and passed through the object. The experience caused him mild discomfort, almost like his hand was burning and freezing at the same time. With horror, he realized what had happened.
He had become an Etemmu. A ghost. A spirit. A shade. No longer a living thing attached to the planet.
Arashek left the building, feet fading through rocks and debris. He had never found his soulmate's body in the wreckage. He had to figure out if she was okay before he passed on. That was all that mattered to him now.
Determined, he ran to the square, passing through various buildings. If the village stories were true, no one would be able to see and hear him. He existed on a different plane of existence from the living now. Arashek intended to use this to his advantage. Being stealthy was no longer a problem, now.
Within only a few moments, he reached the clearing where most of the enemy had gathered. The leader from earlier, who sat atop his dirty white horse, pranced about in circles around other people.
Arashek walked closer, realizing with a sense of dread what was happening in the square. In the short time he was searching his house, the enemy had gathered all the people of his village and forced them into the square. Everybody was pushed up into a dense crowd to the right of the clearing, fear etched into their faces. However, that was not what scared Arashek the most.
Inside the very center of the clearing sat three of the villagers, thrown to the ground. Behind each one was an enemy soldier, with their silvery blade held to their necks. It was a public execution of the most important townspeople. The village elder, the war general, and his soulmate; the village elder's daughter.
The leader on the white horse trotted over, circling around the executioners. He began shouting something in that unfamiliar language, and the soldiers cried out in return. The leader continued to talk, voice rising in speed and tempo. Eventually, he thrust his sword into the air. It was soon joined by the swords of the rest of the troops.
Arashek sprinted over to his soulmate, trying to throw the soldier off of her. His hands passed straight through, disintegrating. He tried again in frustration, trying to grab the sword. The man didn't even flinch or show any kind of sign that he had seen Arashek. Sadly, Arashek was useless now.
He looked down at his hands to find they were beginning to disintegrate into the air. The particles jerked over to the side, disappearing in curls of mist. It felt like he was being pulled towards somewhere distant. His very existence was unraveling.
Arashek sat back, defeated. There was nothing left for him to do. He would either end up in the afterlife or disappear completely, depending on how his village's gods thought he did. His life was over.
Unless…
Arashek perked up, remembering his people's stories. There was a way he could stay.
He took off towards the charred remains of the elder's house. If it hadn't been pillaged, then there was still a chance. A chance the artifact was still there. If he could reach it, he would be able to save his people.
Arashek ducked inside the collapsed building, passing through the fallen roof. He searched frantically for the familiar glow of the sapphire amulet. The old stories said it contained the spirits of many fallen and held enough power to root the dead back to the earthly plane. The village elder had never used it; he said there were too many repercussions and side effects. Arashek had just thought that meant the thing didn't work. Now, it was his only hope.
Amidst the charred walls, he spotted a faint blue glow. Arashek walked through the rubble, noticing how strong the distant pulling sensation had become. Most of his legs were missing, though he somehow managed to walk on them like normal. What an odd sensation.
He reached his hands straight through the rubble, hands collapsing around something cold and solid. He lifted it up and through the big slab of wreckage. Somehow, it was like the amulet existed both in the land of the dead and of the living. It seemed to suck in the light around it, making his skin appear almost pitch black.
Arashek clutched it tight in his fist and ran back out to the clearing. The leader was now speaking in his village's own tongue, riding in front of the people about to be executed. The villagers in the crowd shied back, pressing the crowd tighter and tighter into itself.
"Where is it? Where is the artifact?" The leader said, hopping off of his horse. Arashek looked at the amulet in his hands. Were they looking for it?
"I can not tell you. The gods, they will-" The Elder began to say. The leader punched him, sending the frail man reeling to the ground.
"You people disgust me, with all your talk about gods. I will ask again. Where is it?"
"I can not tell you."
The leader sighed, quickly thrusting himself back onto the horse. He pointed towards the soldier keeping Arashek's soulmate captive. The soldier nodded, changing grip on his sword. Then, before Arashek could do anything, it was too late.
He slit her throat.
Arashek watched, too stunned to move. Her body collapsed to the ground, blood pooling up in the dirt. Her eyes stared motionlessly toward the sky. Then, a slightly transparent version of her rose up from the body. Her spirit.
"Arashek?" She said, spotting him.
"Meira?" He said. She was quickly fading away, faster than he was. She was being pulled in a different direction, as well.
"I suppose it is time to meet the gods." She said, offering Arashek her hand. He didn't take it.
"We can not just leave, Meira. Our people will die."
"We can not stay, whether you like it or not. We are already being pulled to the afterlife, Arashek."
"I can stay." He said, holding up the amulet. Her face clouded over with something that seemed dangerous.
"You do not understand what that will do to you. Please, come with me."
"No."
"Arashek?"
"No. I have to help." He said, defiantly gripping the gold chain of the amulet.
He reached it up and over, preparing to put it on. Meira reached for him, trying to grab at the amulet. Arashek dodged out of the way easily, sending Meria spiraling towards the ground. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes.
"Please. Do not do this." She said. Arashek looked her in the eyes.
"I have to. For you, for our heritage, for our family," he said, slipping it over his head. The amulet landed with a resounding thud.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the amulet exploded. Shadows burst forth from the obsidian, clawing their way out. Creatures of all sizes and shapes took form, hopping around the square. The soldiers stared, wide-eyed, as the creatures charged at them. Soon, the square was being littered with blood and the bodies of the enemy.
Black ooze stretched out from the amulet, spreading out and inching up his arm. He tried to swipe it off, but it wouldn't move. It was trapped like glue to his skin, and he realized, with terror, that it was consuming his skin and clothing. Everything the ink touched turned into more ink.
Arashek panicked, running over to the well. He reached in and soaked his arms, now completely black, into the water. Even though he scrubbed with all his might, it wouldn't get off. It wasn't just stuff on his skin anymore.
It was his skin.
Arashek watched as it slowly spread up his arms, onto his shoulders, and up his neck. It spread into his eyes, making him force them shut. When he opened them, his vision had been changed to completely black. Whatever was happening, one thing was clear.
He wasn't human anymore.
Arashek looked down at himself, now completely changed. His body was made of an inky darkness that just looked wrong. Out of place. Like it shouldn't exist. Light bent around him, creating a patch of darkness where he stood.
He looked up, only to see a terrible sight. Everybody in the square was dead. The leader, his soldiers, the townspeople. All dead. Bodies lay scattered around the square, in various states of being eaten. Arashek watched as souls rose from the corpses, and then got consumed by the creatures. What had he done?
He stood up, numb. The pulling sensation from earlier was completely gone, replaced by a steady thrum. One of the creatures strode up to him, panting. Acting like an innocent puppy, it licked Arasheks hand. Soon, another one of the creatures walked up to him. Before he knew it, all of the creatures had gathered around him, sitting in front of him. Like they were waiting for demands. He was in control now, whether he liked it or not.
What was he going to do?
Arashek looked back to the destroyed clearing. Not only were the villagers all dead, the houses were too. Their culture, decimated by a single band of enemies in search of the artifact. The artifact, that, in the end, destroyed them faster than the enemy.
Arashek walked over to one of the houses, picking up a mask. One of the many used to represent the gods in ancient rituals and dances. This one was mask of an Alu. A shadow monster.
Arashek rubbed it in between his fingers. The black shadowy substance that had replaced his skin left black marks on it, staining the wood slightly.
He knew what he was going to do.
Arashek slid the mask onto his face, staring up into the smoky sky. Into the smolder, ash, and flickering flames.
He was going to get revenge.