A time most broken - Chapter 2 - A storm comes
Taking a step into Daigo's office was like entering a different world, ornate beauties, art pieces, weapons all from the free city of Zeldonpur.
Daigo sat in a chair made of only the best Zeldopurian fabrics, plush silks and linen. A trench coat made of leather possibly being the only thing of native design both on his person, and of his possession in general.
"My lord, the Grand lords of coin and war are here to see you,"
"Thank you Kal, let them in."
The two lords held an aura of greatness, Talon the quick and Bernard the bold.
"Forgive me if I don't kiss the floor you both walk on, I've taken a lot from my culture as you can see, that tradition is not one of them." Daigo smiled while rising from his seat.
"Talon, how does it feel being the third grand lord of coin?"
Talon chuckled "I feel as if anything I can do, would not compare to the interesting choices made by my predecessor,"
"Ronald the mad was a fun man to work with, was he not?" Daigo turned to Bernard, a dark smile on his face.
"I don't not wish to talk of the past, let us live in the now."
The lord of diplomacy turned his back to the two, walking over to a nearby table he poured three glasses of wine.
"Let us drink, to the new grand lord of coin." said the man as he handed the father and son a glass.
All three simultaneously downed their drinks. The wine was perfectly spiced, it had a slight taste of honey to it, somewhat sweet.
"Forgive my interruption my lords, but an issue of great importance has sprung up."
In the doorway stood a catman, a tabby. He was clad in plate armor and at his back a greatsword was held.
"Arron, what is the issue?" The warlord's tone held a great serious ice, so cold it could freeze a lake.
"An entire city's population has disappeared without a trace, no signs of battle or evacuation, almost as if they had turned to air."
Oren couldn't believe how fast he fell to sleep, the bed he lay on easily was the best place he had ever slept, though to a nobleman it would have been more akin to a large slab of rock then what one would rest on. While picking through his room he found a surprisingly large number of books under his bed, his guessed just looking at them would have been around fifteen. Oren was lucky, unlike most slaves, he could read, in fact he did it much better than most. His mother wasn't born a slave, she had been born a noble in the ice lands of the caldrinian republic, back when sien had a king she was captured and tossed into slavery, her house was so small no one cared to get her back.
Most of the literature was beyond his ability to decipher, some written in strange languages, others damaged by dirt and water beyond repair. One book caught his eye, he didn't know why this particular piece interested him so, it's cover held no unique design, it was just a nameless collection of papers.
Oren was greeted with a long wall of text at the first page, he had nothing better to do so he began reading.
First of the hundredth sunless age, the year of sour.
Oren was taken aback by that first line, the hundredth sunless age? That was over seven centuries ago, the era of bronze before the discovery of iron or steel.
Others call me insane, some wish to toss me in binds. I know I am right! The cold white flakes that fall from the sky are in much greater number than any other sunless time before this date. They saw fit to fall even in the heat's kiss of the last time of full light! It is them, the things that walk in the moon's way, those that worship it's evil light! The lunar children have tapped into a great power.
The door suddenly was pushed open, a horse animalwoman holding a basket of assorted items walked in and handed Oren the thing made of wicker.
"Your uniform, and food, get dressed and meet the coin lord in the dining hall."
Without any care she walked out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
Picking through the basket, he found several pieces of salted meat, and some waterskins. What caught his eye most of all was his new outfit. A black cotton shirt and pants with leather boots.
Slipping off his loincloth he quickly pulled the pants and shirt over his fur. Itchy, it was very itchy.
Oren scratched himself like a dog with fleas as he traveled down the corridor, he soon realized that he had no idea where he was going.
"Little lost?"
Oren turned his head to the voice, it was Talon.
"My lord, I'm sorry,"
"Relax Oren, you are new, it took me awhile to figure out this damned place, I need to get to work, lunch has been sent to my office, come,"
"My lord, may I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead." smiled Talon as he began walking.
"I found a book in my room, it was a diary of sorts, it said something about the lunar children, you being a fan of history if rumors serve well, I thought you could tell me about them,"
"The lunar children were an ancient cult of void followers. They believed the the moon itself was the void, during the siege of fallen drop castle they committed suicide on mass,"
"Thank you, my lord,"
"Interesting you know how to read, lord Flint seems to have been right about you."
The walk was a difficult one, the fabric was killing Oren. Talon chattered on like a bird with a toy.
After a while they both reached a large wooden door. Talon quickly swung it open and walked behind his desk, immediately grabbing a pile of papers and reading through them.
Oren spotted a bottle and glass standing on a nearby table, he poured the liquid, presumably wine, in the cup and walked to his master.
"Thank you." Talon offhandedly said as he took the glass from the foxman's paw.
Stepping back to the wall, Oren took a second to gaze at the room. First off, every piece of furniture was made of cherrywood. Second, books! Bookshelves were all over the place, this man seemed to have little care for decoration, but an obsession with literature.
A knock at the door was followed by the mare Oren had met earlier.
"My lord, a line is in wait to speak to you,"
"Send the first one in."
She turned her head around and nodded, a man in a sky blue robe and a bare head walked in.
"Lord Talfingale, earl of Kin cove castle." she announced.
"My Lord of coin! Earl Habber has sent mercenaries to raid and pillage my land,"
"Matters of sword rest with the grand lord of war," said Talon not looking up from his papers.
"You didn't let me finish, he purchased the mercenaries with a loan from the state, I demand justice, I wish to castrate the man who did it,"
"Matters of sword rest with the lord of war, get him out of here!"
The old man pouted like a child before briskly walking out of the office.
Next was a short peasant man.
"Milord, our village is dying. We need coin else we all starve, next harvest will be profitable and we'll pay ya back in completeness, please!"
Grabbing a quill and placing down a form, Talon's voice was direct and cold, completely unlike the man Oren had come to know.
"What village?"
A smile took bloom on the man's face.
"Haradol, it's south of Frist fall castle,"
"Name,"
"John Asture,"
"How much are you looking for?"
"Two hundred Oirs,"
"Very well, take this to the treasurer guard, he will give you the amount you need, you will owe two hundred and fifty, you may pay this back monthly, if you do not pay the loan back before the end of the year then an extra hundred will be added to your fee."
Talon signed and handed the parchment to the man who happily took it and left.
"I have far too much work to do already, I won't see anyone else."
With a stiff bow, the mare left the room, shutting the door behind her.
"Oren, I need you to take this letter to the courier's office, it is to be sent to lord Flint." Talon poured the newly heated wax from its holder to the near bottom of the page, taking his seal he stamped it down and packaged the paper.
"The office is just a straight walk down the hall, you'll see a sign with courier on it."
The fox took the letter and left the room to his back.
Navigating the building, least from his room to Talon's office, has become a lot easier, dropping the letter off at the courier's office, Oren stopped by his room. That diary fascinated him. He walked down the hallway reading, occasionally looking up to make sure he was heading in the right direction, a couple times he ended up walking into a wall.
I don't know, or care what the bloody date is! If I spend what little time I have putting numbers down then these events most important won't be chronicled! I hear them, they know I'm putting their evils to parchment. Claw marks stain my front door, I hear their horrible laughter in the dark night, what scares me most is that when that noise attacks my ears, What I feel is not fear, anxiety, or anger. I feel a great, burning desire to join them. I see beautiful things, in the shadows.
It didn't take long for Flint to get the letter from Talon, He had chose to stay in Jolden's hold for an extra while, if he is to twist the strings of his soon to be puppet, he must weave the threads from small and weak to strong and long. What lay inside was an invitation, a private dinner with the the grand lord, it was working faster than previously thought possible by Flint.
That memory, every night attacks Renn, a nightmare given to him by his old master. As punishment for his betrayal Aurotina has placed a curse on her old apprentice, he is cursed to never have a good sleep, for every time he falls into slumber, the worst of his memories replay in his mind. His eyes once held natural colors, but in truth not even he could remember what they used to be. The sclera was purely black, the iris red.
The shadows danced around the cavern as seven people walked ever deeper into it's embrace. Preset torches lined the walls along with signs of warning, this is ritual ground.
"Renn." A lad of ten tugged on the robes of his brother.
"I don't want to do this."
"I'm sorry Jowen, but you heard what mister Alcon said! If you become a mage then our family will be pulled from the common ashes into the golden sun of nobility, you have a natural affinity for the way of fire, most have only weak charms and potions to simulate that power, you have it in your very soul, this will unlock it."
The kingdom of Hadinfield held magic users in great regard, unlike in Renn's current home of Sien.
"But. . . what about miss Aurotina?"
"She is weak, she is afraid of true power."
They walked till they reached an altar, it looked to be desecrated. A black overgrowth of fungus covered it's base.
"Jowen, I'm sorry."
The five other men took hold of the boy and placed him on top of the unholy table.
"Renn! What are they doing?! Stop them, brother!"
Tears fell from Renn's face as he produced a dagger with a black hilt and blade. Without delay he tore open the boy's neck. every one of the figures revealed a grey chalice, each of them collected the still flowing crimson. "Welcome brother." simultaneously was said by the void followers to their new member, They all drank.
He woke up sitting at his desk, pen in his hand. With a flick of his wrist the pen fell to the stone floor. He patted his chest a couple times, he wore a long black overcoat the fell to the floor in it's length. Under that was a simple white cotton shirt, black cotton pants and similarly colored leather boots. He grasped at his head only to remember his hair had fallen out a long time ago, this was one of the many payments one must make to serve the void, material degradation.
The great power you gain acts as a type of cancer, your body begins to break down and the darkness eats away at you. The more it eats you however, the stronger you become. To gain you must lose, as the void rewards sacrifice. To get around degradation many make sacrifices of animals, animal men, and people. This however only slows the process. Many of the more advanced practitioners of the void use the anima artis ritual, this transfers the soul from one body to another. The great power the user holds still remains, it then eats at the new body faster than previous, causing the void follower to change bodies yet again, the darkness soon touches the soul itself, every time the ritual is used the corruption within the soul grows slightly. It is the fate of every follower, every being that joins the darkness, they all will be consumed.
This is something Renn has dedicated his life to fix. It wasn't until after he joined the void did he learn of degradation, it is possible to control the darkness fully, the few who accomplish this are given the title dark master of whatever they specialize in, or a personality trait they have.
And as a result they become nearly immortal, while the physical body can be killed, their soul can't. It is only a matter of time before they find a new body. The only way to destroy these dark masters is the golau ritual of light, this traps the soul in a prison of light and then burns away the dark.
He is close. He can feel the might of true darkness growing inside him. He can feel it in his bones; he is destined to surpass dark master, surpass dark lord, Renn wishes to become the first dark king in over three thousand years.
_I have forgotten not only the date but the bloody year! The skies bleed no light, shadows have held the world for an amount of days I dare not count. The animals, the insects, everything that lay in the realm of the god Albero's domain have disappeared without a whisper. The only sounds that touch my ears are the sweet nothings of the void. The songs of nothings are so nice, they beg me to leave my home and walk into it. . . I see such beautiful things. . . in the shadows. _
Oren set the journal down It was early; around the sixth hour of high day. Oren had candles lit all over the room; he was embarrassed to say the dark scared him. He sighed, try as he might the fox could not get back to sleep. He couldn't get this weird text out of his head. Previously while he was afraid of the dark he could still sleep in it with little issue, now however he had grown paranoid. With little to do right now he picked up the book and continued reading.
_They pretend. . . the void takes the voices of the ones I love. . . . A voice claiming to be my sister begged me to step outside, then it was my mother, then my father, all of whom have been dead for years so long I cannot recall. It seems the void can't force one to join it, one must open themselves to the dark. Food and water is a commodity that I find is smaller here than good people in the world. In the shadows food and drink of the greatest calibur wait for me. . . my resolve has found itself left bloody in the dirt of my sorrow. I have let tears fall so often that I lack fluid; I now am forced to do the indignity and utter disgusting horror of consuming my own urine. I see in the shadows such beauty. . . I see the woman that I loved; my wife's smile. . . I see such beautiful things in the shadows. _