Hello there, Shade here!If you're reading this story, there are a few things you'll need to know to ensure that this is truly your cup of tea.FIRST: PACINGThe pace of the story will drag a little in the first arc to establish the aesthetic of the story fully; the dark and gritty atmosphere and the mentality of the people within the Rings outside the Blessed Lands.After the first arc, the pace will pick up and ramp on but not too much, as the story blooms to becoming wider in scale and detail.SECOND: DETAILThe first occurrences and first appearances featuring certain prominent characters are elaborated at length to give their presence a more dynamic and vibrant feel.This book is very descriptive, so expect clear and vivid pictures of everything painted for you. If this isn't your thing, then please don't read it, instead of complaining in the comments.Some details are limited from the first arc to not bog it down needlessly such as the racial traits of every character.THIRD: G
SHUF!As the inhumane pulse of strength urged Trodden to race forward and ram against the iron bars before him which beqome clearer as his right eye changed, becoming tainted with a golden tint, he roared!BANG!The bars rang, the floor quaking in genuine fright from the power released from Trodden's body!The creatures that had prowled silently outside of his cell before he turned to screeching uncontrollably in the wake of his dug up emotion, growled, attracting the young man to use his transcendent sight to finally see what they were despite the obscuring cover of the darkness!...!Trodden froze for a moment.What he had suspected to perhaps be foul monsters captured from a distant evil forest and kept here for entertainment were....Naught but man!They were feral men and women with distorted figures, made ugly by actual wooden features; a small branch growing from the forehead one, an entire arm as a wilted tree on another.These mindless monsters walked on all fours, their joint
The full moon that peeked from behind the dark clouds which traced the starry sky, announced that it was time.Desmas felt it.The time was ripe!His grip on the object in his hand tightened as he took in deep breaths as if to swallow the entire Watering Hole through his nostrils.After the feasting of the cow, he had grabbed one of the poor creature's bones and tucked it under his tunic.He shook like a leaf, not only from the cold which was barely hindered from fondling his flesh by the patches of hay he hid in but from fright.With this deed, he could never return to normalcy.Many a dead body had he seen, yet not one of them hailed from the works of his hands.All around the circular expanse that was lit up by the moonlight, the other slaves tossed and turned in their sleep while others simply could not find it within themselves to shut their eyes and retire to the singular fantasy that they had left.Desmas rose slowly, the stalks of dry grass falling from his figure.Thick veins
The loud calls around, emboldened by adrenaline and aggressive vigour rocked Trodden as he was held by one of the soldiers. He saw the cheering, well-built men and women that shouted with their fists raised and quivered in the wake of their collective valour.The pride and joy burning in the hearts of the soldiers before him was a marvel that he had not needed while trying to fasten the remainders of his courage.The remnants of his hope.For this night was written to be his last.After the bald man had informed his soldiers of the good news, he then addressed the centrepiece of the good news, the one who sparked the early incitation of this merry, all eyes turning to stab at Trodden who shrank under."This man is the sacrifice that the lord has chosen. He shall be kept here for the night. Treat him as you would a rat at the end of its life," Derrecks said with a sneer.Raucous laughter boomed from the soldiers.For they saw Trodden as naught but one of the many anomalies in the Outer
Atop a lengthy and sturdy table that extended far beyond the seats of those currently dining over its surface, a lone man stood out as he fed elegantly on the warm and delicious food in his plate, occasionally sipping from the goblet at his side that held a crimson liquid.As for his appearance, his physical stature alone would require a ballad that sang of his lustrous, flowing burgundy hair that only halted their descent at his shoulders, a tall frame that demanded for his seat to be different from that of others even at the dining table, robust muscles that bulged like swells under beige coloured skin on every part of his body that did not taste cloth and rough little hairs with a light red hue which grew atop his flesh like grasses.Over his heart-shaped face, hooded eyes with a marble grey sheen could be seen along with a button nose below that twitched from time to time as he passed food into his mouth that was enclosed by a light stubble.Trodden's saliva slid down his throat a
Aneus gazed above with a forlorn expression, taking in the circular covering of darkness that focused his sight to the many stars that littered the night sky.He sat on the ground, at the very bottom of the Watering Hole while lost in thought, his mind tunnelling towards one instance where he had felt disgusted with a certain friend of his.The hundred meter stretch of distance that he and his fellow mates had to climb to reach the surface where all activity in the Ruined Hold took place was above him, the circular opening that he gazed at brimming with a limited luminance that partly shone on him and a few of the hundreds that sat along with, their faces painted red from the earlier feed at the Feeding Rite.This was the life of those that slaved away at the behest of the evils in the Rings.Aneus shook from the chilling cold of the night and retreated to the patches of hay that were sprinkled in this hole that he and his mates called home, seeking warmth in the food of hooved animal
What would emerge from a mix of hunger and fear? What would triumph?Trodden's throat favoured hunger while his mind, aided by his eyes supported the fear, urging him to back away and cower like a rat.Yet, there would be no suspense, for the result was clear.That which was aided by the screeching voice that sang profanity and vanity in his head won, inducing the young 17-year-old to build up strength in his knees and thighs, gazing intently at the short man who walked briskly towards him.Hunger triumphed. A foreign concept to Trodden, but one which he yielded to in reality.He needed to feed.Like a beast, he eyed the brown-coloured ball he saw floating within the head of the short shadow that approached.He saw not the whip that was held, which was a threat to him. Just the eye that he foresaw to taste divine.The slaves wrestling over the long-dead cow paused as a thick tension built up around the soldier and slave.Aneus who had his mouth painted in blood peeked from the crow
A cacophony of sound blared against Trodden's mind while he simultaneously felt the raging pain from his flesh which stemmed from his right eye.Two voices battled in his head.One that yelled incomprehensible words in a hoarse and frightening tone and another which was familiar to Trodden.It spoke not with the intent to rattle him, but to remind and inform."Find....the Bringing..." it called.All but the young man knew of the sting of flesh that caused one to wince or groan.All but Trodden knew that under the skin, soft muscles yearned not to be pulled, blood vessels tearing apart as it would cause unimaginable torment.How could the eye cause a chorus of discomfort throughout the body?The short, square-faced man, a soldier in the Ruined Hold, narrowed his beady eyes.Many of the soldiers around also turned to Trodden who had felled his block with confusion, along with the other slaves.Was a scream of pain finally emerging from this numb fool?The squared-faced man walked up to
A whip made of dark hair was brought down, falling mercilessly upon a very thin, dark-haired young man who screamed when he felt it crack against the flesh on his back!He stumbled to a fall on the winding rock steps and balled his hands into fists, grinding his yellow teeth while he trembled as he held back anything more he wanted to say or do."Faster you mutt! You're getting lazier with each passing day!" a thick bearded man with a fierce make of a face barked with sprinkles of his foul saliva spraying at the downed young man.He donned a linothorax armour, complete with a polished brown leather breastplate that had the outline of robust chest pad and abs. His shoulders were free, showing the dark hairs that grew from his thick limbs, with his feet wearing brown-coloured leather greaves.The man swung his whip again which smacked the young man's back, scraping his skin as it lashed, staining the filthy tunic he donned in blood. He tried to crawl up the large stone steps but his str
1097 Aga'Fet.In the Inner Ring, the second portion of the Sheltered Lands outside the dominant influence of the Dormant Peak, a lone cabin nested the Free Woodlands near the village of Albir.Snow fell without pause, burying the rich red soils under its bountiful might along with the sturdy roof of the three-roomed wooden construct that housed two individuals.Or perhaps three.The trees swayed without emitting much sound other than the creaks of old wood that had stories to tell as if giving the last mourns of empathetic sorrow to the personages shielded from the frost by stacked and familiar blocks of their fallen brethren.Within the cabin, several tapestries were laid on the floor with thick weavings for the cold.A warm blanket covered a large man who wheezed while being caressed by the heat from the snug fur-made knit.Thick candles illuminated the room where one last meeting was taking place between a duo that had been bound by the mutual chain of marriage for twelve years.A