Untitled Story
The soft glow of orange and yellow light slowly began to creep up over the darkened grasslands, pushing away the night with early dawn rays of sunshine. The soft rays, like fingers of a timid hand, began to slowly reach for the crumbling walls of the once grand kingdom, seeming almost reluctant to touch the many stones and foundations that were there. Like a stranger moving through unfamiliar territory, the sunlight gently continued to push away the darkness. Once it reached the great walls of the palace that sat against the mountain at the back of this dead place, it slowly began to rise up the towering heights towards the mountaintop and the land beyond. Slowly, the rising light filled the Hall of Audience, pouring through its windows. The room resembled a great cathedral, with its tall arched ceiling supported by four rows of white marble pillars along its length and towering stained glass windows depicting images of great battles and grand armies. It seemed as if the whole of the room was focused on the lone figure that stood at the center of these terrific images, dressed in full plate armor, depicted as shining and glorious.
The brightness of the room was subdued by a dark figure that moved between the white pillars. His well-tailored garments seemed to soak in the light around them, making the room about him appear to dim as he passed through it with his long royal purple cape of velvet trailing on the ground behind him. He ran his weathered fingers through the long beard at his chin gently, sunken eyes slowly gazing about the white marble that he knew so well as tired legs drew him towards one of the tall windows. He sighed as he looked out through the colored glass, remembering briefly the feeling of the warm rays of the sun on his skin; it had been many long years since he had felt that kind of warmth on his weary old body. Beyond the glass lay the remnants and ruins of a once great city; one he knew as well as every curve of these many windows. While on some occasions he may stand to reminisce, today he knew he had much to do.
Turning away, he moved towards the northern end of the chamber where the only furnishing of the whole room stood: a large throne. He looked long to the weathered seat and worn fabric of the chair as he approached it, recalling a time past when this room, even at this early hour, would be tightly cramped with numerous petty matters and complaints for the Emperor that sat in that throne. A smirk of contempt crept across his face at that thought, crushing it into the back of his mind as he passed the throne and continued towards the door behind it.
All those people, now long gone: asking for help solving their family disputes, or begging for more land so they could better fill their pockets and bellies: matters hardly fitting for an Emperor to have bothered with.
The well-oiled hinges of the door easily permitted him access to a darkened corridor, which seemed more suited to his demeanor. Loud clanking of armor and clattering of bones echoed down the empty hall as his guards snapped to attention and pulled him from his momentary revere. Their hollow sockets, where eyes once peered into the world, seemed fixated on this old man as he passed them, mindlessly serving him in unlife as they had in life. He did not return their gaze, knowing too well the shape of the meaty bones beneath rusted chain armors and torn, bloodied tabards; like all else in this place, he knew them as well as he knew himself. He watched the spiral staircase as he approached it and carefully took each cold step in its descent, following the flickering torchlight that beckoned him once again down to the depths below. The ground leveled off and again his ears were assaulted by clanking and clattering of armor and bone, two more of his faithful-in-death followers snapping to attention at the end of this new corridor, guarding his destination as he had commanded them so long ago.
The damp air of the cool underground was comforting to him, much like the sun had been years ago. Pressing through the lifeless stares of his minions, he produced from his pocket a small black gem, and held it in his outstretched palm towards the doorway that blocked him from proceeding. His lips opened and his voice crackled out in words that carried their evil magic in their very sound. Instantly the air around him seemed intensified with electricity, giving it a heavier, choking feeling: a feeling that he alone took a sense of great comfort in. As quickly as the sensation came, it was gone, and he stepped through the door and into the room beyond, closing the oaken barricade once again behind him.
His movements defined the ritualistic manner of these moments. It was like a well-rehearsed play that he had acted out many times too often, drawing towards its final climax each time. Then, it would recede into its somber story once more, giving only a taste of satisfaction. This secret room below the audience chamber was like a tall cylinder in shape, well sized at about thirty feet in diameter and equally sparse of furnishings to the room above it. Light shone from a single crystal that hung from a simple chain at the center of the room: reflecting off silver inlaid to the black marble on floor and ceiling in a geometrical shape. The crystal hung directly at the center of the pattern carved by the silver inlay and directly over an altar of the same black marble as the rest of the room, upon which rested a beautiful, perfect figure of a woman in a long white gown: pale skin and soft honey-gold hair creating even more of a sharp contrast between her and the rest of the dreary setting around her. This was what took all the attention of the dark man when he stepped in and caused him to pause at the entrance of the room to admire in silence.
“Good morning my dear.” He finally said as he moved away from the doorway towards her motionless figure. The affection in his voice was warped and twisted, as though he felt an animosity towards the beauty that lay before him in all its innocence. “So long since the betrayal that started all this.” He spoke again to her as he stepped to the side of the altar and reached out to touch her soft, sweet hair. Was I the betrayer? Did I betray my faith that I deserved this punishment? That you, who I loved so dearly, deserved the punishment you received? His thoughts strained gently against his mind as he silently continued to admire her, before responding as though she was asking the questions herself. “No, it was she, not me my dear. It was that harlot of a goddess. I did everything she asked of me: sacrificed my youth to unite the empire…and how did she repay me for all I had done?” he began to clench his teeth, speaking through them and tightening his grip of her hair “…by taking you away from me!” he replied, before releasing his grip and calming his demeanor once more, adding in her title an affectionate tone: “my dearest.”
Like a storm though, the temper returned to him as he remembered his past. “That was when she betrayed me: when she lost me. Then he came, and he showed me what to do; he showed me what sacrifices had to be made. Even then, The Dawnbringer, she had to interfere. But now we have served our time, and soon my love, our time will come. Everything will be as it should have been so long ago.” He stroked her hair once again, gripping her hand with his and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Soon my love, the wait will be over…” he said softly, then stood back from the altar and looked over her form once more before he turned to leave the room. After closing the door behind himself, he listened once again to the audible click as it locked, its magic retaking its place to guard the treasure within. For a moment, he paused and looked back again to the doorway, knowing that inside, the crystal that shined over her form was allowing the darkness to once again consume her surroundings.
“Soon.” he said softly before turning to retrace his steps towards the audience chamber.
