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
The records of the Elder Scribes, the oldest known men to walk our lands detail events all but passed, dating several millennia before the world was forged.Such is a grace, a privilege afforded to those that hail from and delight in the brilliance of the Silent One.An endless space of EMPTINESS loomed before all things began.It was followed by the emergence of Seven Odd Stars that proudly showered the EMPTINESS with scintillating lights like blinding flares.Each star had a unique presence, echoing in a different pitch, rumbling as it sought to make itself known to the EMPTINESS.Thus, the EMPTINESS knew not a day without the constant primal echoes of the bright Seven Stars that fumed with power.Power they could not use in their primal state.Without an anchor for which time could be dictated, the Elder Scribes detail the second momentous event to occur in our history.The Silencing.An entity whose origins and characteristics are all but unknown bloomed within the loud EMPTINESS
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
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
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
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
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
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