A young man lay sprawled near the edge of a cliff, a cold breeze flowed across his exposed body, and medium-length grass tickled his sides. Above him was a clear night sky, both beautiful and alien to the young man.
Above him hung two moons and twelve rings; the smallest of the two moons hung lowest in the sky, slightly misshapen and looking as if someone had attempted to chisel it into something new but given up shortly after starting above the misshapen moon, where the twelve rings, sparking with a myriad of blues, greys, pale golds and even an occasional flash of green and red. The last of the twelve rings, however, was a pale gold. The Second Moon was the highest in the sky and would have looked completely normal if not for what looked to be veins of red pulsing weakly underneath its surface.
'..'
The young man's mind was strangely blank; he could neither recall who he was nor how he ended up lying there staring at the stars. With no memories to fill the void of his mind, the awe-inspiring sight above him, and the constant breeze still flowing across his body, he was strangely at peace.
After an unknown amount of time, the young man grew bored of watching the strange sight of the faintly pulsing moon and sat up, gazing lazily at his surroundings.
He was sitting in a small clearing; looking to his left, he saw the edge of a cliff less than a few meters from his current resting spot. There was a dense forest on the other three sides, a little further away from him than the cliff.
The trees looked rather unassuming; nothing about them provoked the same feeling of alineness that the young man had when gazing up at the night sky. The leaves of the trees were moving in the light breeze, rustling like the whispers of an excited crowd. The Moonlight spilling between the leaves made the shadows dance reavaling hidden roots and branches scattered all over the ground.
Looking again to his left out over the cliff's edge, the young man saw a forest stretching below him, blanketing rolling hills that continued to flatten out as his gaze travelled further from the cliff's edge.
The forest looked less dense than the one currently surrounding him, but still wild and untamed regardless. What looked like a small trail cut its way lazily through the forest, winding its way up into the denser parts of the forest that sat above the clifss ringong the rolling hills in a vague semi-circle.
A small cluster of bright orange lights could be seen bobbing along the path; makings its way in the direction of the cliffs.
The moment the young man saw the orange cluster of lights bobbing along the path, he was gripped by an all consuming pirmal fear; this fear seemed to rise from the very depth of his being, instantly filling the still void that had been there not a moment ago and the calmness that came along with it.
Instinct took over, and the young man shot to his feet.
He did not know why he was so afraid, what those orange lights were or where this terror had come from, but it was too all-consuming to be ignored.
Pivoting away from the cliff's edge and straining his legs, he shot away from the cliff's edge at an impressive speed, too impressive really, considering his body felt to skiny to be able to move that fast Not that these thoughts had time to occur to him as he entered the forest, still gripped with the same fear he had when first seeing those orange lights.
Crashing through the forest with all the speed he could muster, not caring for the sounds he was making or the strain on his body. The young man rappidly widdened the gap between him and those horrid lights.
Trees flew by, branches snapped under his feet or were shoved aside as he ran. Their pointed ends and rough surfaces left small marks on his exposed skin. This conintued for what to him felt like an eternity of blind panic and constant strain, both physical and mental, but was only really a few minutes at most.
The ground under him began to slope up as he ran, growing rougher and steeper as he conintued. Looking around wildy the young man spotted a small cave opening.
As he considered whether or not to hide in there, he heard whispering in his head, growing louder and louder by the moment. These whispers did not sound evil or even harmful, but they did feel nasty and degrading. As if their sole purpose was to degrade his very existence, driving him to disparage a life on self-hatred.
Spurred on by these whispers, the terror still filling every part of his body and mind and his muscles wich where now screaming for him to stop. The young man rapidly approached and entered the small cave opening, falling onto the floor, both in a clumsy attempt to conceal his presence and out of exhaustion from the rapid escape.
Not long after the adrenaline powering his system vanished, the young man passed out.
---
-A boat at sea-
Splash! creak! splash!
'Why does it sting?' thought Temis as she was pelted by another volley of sea spray founds its way through the air holes in her crate.
Sighing, she attempted to get even further away from the air holes in her crate. Temis refocused her attention on the world outside her temporary prison.
Moments later, the sounds and smells of the outside world sharpened in her mind.
The sounds of the crew moving through the ship could clearly be heard, louder even than the sounds of the waves crashing into the side of the wooden hull or the contents of the other crates crashing about somewhere all around her.
They were scurrying around like rats, and hollering to eachother like them too.
'Are we landing?' Temis thought with a mix of both excitement and apprehension.
She didn't really know if they were or not; she knew little to nothing about ships from her studies and could only make a guess based on how active the crew seemed to be.
While trying to decipher how far they were from shore using the clues around her, Temis heard a shout followed immediately by the sweet scent of blood.
Immediately after, she felt her heart rate quicken; saliva mixed with other strange liquids quickly filled her mouth, and her spine began to arch.
Swallowing the concoction of liquids in her mouth, Temis reached for a small indent in the wooden wall of the crate where she rested her head. The moment her hand brushed over the indent, she felt it react to her hunger and spirituality; the area around the indent seemed to grow thin and waterlogged. After another few heartbeats, all Temis could smell was the sweet scent of iron.
Suppressing the hunger, attempting to consume her sanity, she pressed her mouth to the waterlogged area and began to suck as much of the blood as she could before her spirit ran dry, and she was once again forced to wait for it to replenish.
Her spirit lasted just long enough for her to regain control over her own sanity.
Feeling weak and exahusted she slumped down on the floor of her crate again. Her mind began to walk the same beaten path it had walked many times through these last few days.
Languishing over her inability to change her predicament, with her spirit weakend she could not enhance her body and break free of this crate; she could simply wait for it to replenish itself and break free. However, just before she found the strength to do so, she would grow hungry, an extremely dangerous feeling to have for a species such as hers. To keep the hunger from consuming her sanity, she had to satiate it, and to do that, she had to give up the chance to break free.
This constant cycle gnawed at her almost as much as the hunger.
Sighing agian Temis began to think back further than the last few days, trying to find a way out in the memories of the brief few days before she ended up on this ship.
Before she could, however, her crate was suddenly lifted up from all four corners.
Freezing in place, Temis held her breath and focused her mind on sorting through the bombardment of new scents and sounds coming from somewhere up ahead.
After a while, Temis began to make sense of all the new information granted to her by her powerful senses. The smell of cooking meat and fresh produce clashed with the smell of the sea and the waste produced by the sailors - and herself, of course - the sounds of pushy street vendors and hollering saliorus asaulted her ears, and a up beat street band could be heard playing from somewhere not too far away.
'It's a port?, or maybe a market?. Has mother sold me?' thought Temis as she and her crate were carried through the cocoon of smells and sounds.
A few moments later, the bombardment of information began to lessen as her carriers made their way into what must have been a different area of the city.
A short while later, a few more things began to change. The sound of dirt beneath shoes was replaced by the soothing sound of shoes on wood. Instead of the constant assault of waste and other strange scenes assaulting Temis's mind, there was only the soothing scent of a fresh downpour in a rainforest.
Soon after the crate was unceremoniously dumped.. somwhere, there was no way to tell using any of the information available to her.
Letting out a small yelp from the impact, tentatively sat up. A few moments later, she heard a door slam, followed by the smell of rotting wood as her crate began to rapidly collapse into a pile of rapidly rotting wood all around her.
---
-The Fires Church-
-Capital of the Church of Chains, Linland-
Aster was kneeling on the floor of an ornate church, reluctantly praying to the God-King of Chians.
He had short brown hair, pale skin, his right eye was a shining golden colour, while his left was a beautiful amber. He wore a grey robe with a symbol on the centre back that travelled horizontally, showing two chains connected by seven links, all in bright gold. On each wrist was another golden chain with more golden links connecting the chain to the inners of the grey robe.
The robe of a high priest of the church of chains.
Behind him were rows and rows of empty pews made of masterfully crafted iron; the backs of the pews looked as if they were made of interlinking chains, and the seats were bare and smooth.
In front of him was an elevated podium, on its surface where engravings of chains, some linking with others, some binding various beings, some looking to have shattered under the strain.
On the podium stood a man of similar age to Aster. He had striking blonde hair of medium length, reaching the middle of his neck. He had pale skin and his right eye, like asters, was a shining gold; the other, however, was a pale blue. He wore the same attire as Aster, the only difference being the emblem hanging around his neck, which was a circle made of cold grey steel, engraved on it was a man whose limbs were spread out in all four directions in the centre, chains bound every inch of his limbs, some whole, some shattered.
The man was Elion, Aster's older brother and the eldest of all seven siblings. The most beloved man in the realm below God-King himself and the most pious man in all of the church of chains.
He was leading today's prayer with his usual zeal, not a word of the prayers or hymns mispronounced and not a single muscle not in the correct prayer position.
A few minutes later, the time of worship was over, and soon after, the rattling of chains broke the calm silence as Aster rose from his kneeling position on the stone floor. Opening his eyes, he looked to his left, observing his five other siblings as they rose from their kneeling positions as well.
The six of them had formed two lines of three in columns before the podium, each facing towards Elion.
Aster was last in the right line, directly in front of him was Zinna, rising silently from his prayer position. He was the youngest of them all, with short, dark black hair and pale skin. He had the same golden colored right eye as both Elion and Aster -and the rest of the siblings, for that matter- while his left was a deep brown, nearing black. Zinna was not very popular with the people, but not for lack of trying. The main problem he faced was that the masses had little use for his gifts; they were put to much better use serving the Church and the God-King, doing things that the masses couldn't know about. After all, what use would a peasant farmer have for Darkness or concealment? He needed light for his crops, and he would be blessed by the Church for confessions, not lies.
Hearinga tired sigh coming from directly to his left, Aster turned to look at his sister Eirene, the middle child. Her hair was a strawberry blond, and her skin had a noticeable tan to it; her left eye was a shining amber with hints of green. She was the least popular with the people, not because they had no use for her gifts nor because she had personally done something to ward off their favour. Instead, it was simply because she rarely replied to their prayers, too indifferent to the masses and their pleas to improve her image. Aster was honestly surprised that she even showed up to today's meeting; he knew for a fact that she would rather be entertaining herself with plays and wine.
Out of the corner of his eye, Aster saw Ianthe, the third youngest, calmly rising to her feet in front of Eirene with a calm smile playing on her lips. She had long brown hair that went down to the middle of her back and a tan complexion; her left eye was an emerald green. She possessed an air of unquestionable and undefiable authority around her, as if even the world did not dare disobey her. She was mostly forgotten by the masses, that was, until they ran into something illegal or news of a horrible crime was printed in the newspaper, then she was instantly remembered by the people, hoping for her judgment to be swift and just. She was not very pous but she still did her duties nonetheless, keeping law and order in the church made her strong after all and those who were strong and indispensable to the faith were always rewarded.
***
After the six worshipers all rose to their feet, Elion finally opened his eyes and broke the silence that he had maintained since the prayer had ended, "Come, brothers and sisters, we have much to discuss."
He then turned around and walked to the stairs on the left side of the elevated podium, past his waiting siblings, who quickly followed after him. Soon after, they entered a small side room adjacent to the main prayer hall and took their places around the ornate wooden table.
To Aster's right was Melia, the Second eldest and the second most beloved by the people, with her long flowing brownish-red hair, aluring green eyes and tan skin. She had not yet spoken a word to the others since they all gathered here, which was unusual for her usually bubbly self. Aster wasn't sure of the reason, but he suspected that it was either that she was distracted, with other matters and senses, she had only recently joined the rest of them and claimed the title that had waited for her since she awakened after all. Or she was anxious about the news to come, believing it to be some terrible news.
The former was the most likely, having just recently truly advanced beyond the masses, and the noble creatures take a large toll on the mind and soul, especially with their added gifts and responsibilities as High Priests of the Chained Church. The latter was far less likely, but still held a real possibility; it was not often that all seven siblings were called together and even harder to make it happen. Only the God King of Chains -their father- could make this happen, not that he would be making an appearance on this occasion, indifferent as he was to those lesser than him.
Just as these thoughts flashed through Aster's mind, a deep and husky voiced resouned from directly to his left, shattering the quiet silence of a moment before. "Shall we begin then?"
Aster and his other 5 siblings all turned to look towards the source of the voice; it was Askel, the youngest of the seven siblings. He had mat black short hair and a thick black beard covering his face. His skin was extremely tan, and his left eye was a deep blue. He was in the middle of the pack in terms of popularity among the masses, but among the military, he was overwhelmingly popular, as you would expect from the greatest smith in all of the church's territory.
Elion smiled slightly before responding, letting the tension build slightly before responding, "Under the God-Kings' watch, let us commence the first sacred gathering of the Seven Blood-Angels."
---
-Owls Mountain Pass-
-North of Highmere-
Crack! Crackle!
Under the thunderous onslaught of ice thunder, a small group of battered refugees made its way through a frigid mountain plateau. All around them stood newly fromed pillers of ice reaching to the icy clouds far above. Each was shaped like a bolt of lightning striking the earth. Because that's what they were, bolts of lightning instantly freezing as they streaked down from the ice, before staggering under their own weight a few moments later.
"There! I see it!" Shouted a scrawny teenage boy from the front of the group. His voice was filled with excitement and exhaustion.
Similar shouts resounded behind him, spreading the message of his sighting to the rest of the group.
Up ahead, having just come into sight amid the snow and fog, was the end of the plateau; once they crossed it, they would finally have a chance to rest after spending well over a day traversing the Icy hell of Owls mountain pass.
Spurred on by the discovery of the teen whose name was Dominic, the refugees continued on their hellish march.
Pillars of ice thunder continued to descend from the clouds above, and not too long later, they claimed a small family on the fringes of the group. Instantly turning them to ice and mercifully ending their lives in an instant.
None even batted an eye at their sudden deaths; they were all too tired, and such occurrences had become too commonplace to startle the group anymore.
Not too long after, the group finally reached the edge of the plateau and began their descent.
As they continued down the gradually steepening slowp the group finally came across what they had been longing to reach for days, Singers cave. Named after the first group to traverse the Owls mountian pass and use this cave as a place to rest and recover nearly 150 years ago. According to the rumors at least.
The left wall of the cave was filled with markings left behind by other refugee groups crossing the pass. It reminded him of the stories of elaborate rituals he had heard as a child, a way to mark the end of the most dangerous part of the journey and to prove to the world that they had made it. Those who could write carved their name, those who couldn't carved crude drawings of themselves or things they believed represented them. Those who where to young or too old to do either simply placed a rock on the pile at the back. Dominic, who was never taught how to read, carved a person riding a horse near the front of the cave.
***
A fire crackled in the centre of the cave, the smoke rising to the back of the cave where its roof was slightly elevated.
Dominic sat huddled close to the fire, the cold biting every inch of his body, slowly giving way to the warm bliss of the heat coming from the fire. Looking around, he saw the tired faces of his fellow refugees; there weren't many of them left now. Before they began their crossing of the Owl Pass, there were lots and lots of them. Dominic didn't know exactly how many, both because there was no point in counting and also because he couldn't count very well.
Some had died of starvation or exhaustion, others to the cold, but most had died to the Ice thunder that rained from the sky, or the great sheets of ice that came crashing to the ground when they collapsed.
Dominic didn't know any of the survivors; his own family had died before the crossing, stabbed to death by a band of fellow refugees for their clothes and food. Dominic himself had barely survived, still bearing scars across his right chest muscle, jaw and right thigh.
The people who had cared for him were gone too; some of them had stayed behind, too afraid to attempt the crossing chsoing to take their chances with the Highmereian forces rather than brave the pass. The rest had died along the journey.
After a small meal consisting of dried fruits and meat, Dominic felt himself nodding off, not willing to resist the call of sleep, and he quickly fell asleep. They had to travel tomorrow again tomorrow, if they didn't, they might not be able to make it to the border before the ice came for them on the descent too.
***
The next morning at dawn, the remaining refugees quickly packed up and set off, intending to finish their descent by midday and reach the river the Highmerian soldiers called the Great Artery by night. They would spend a few nights there before crossing the Great Artery and officially entering the territory of Teair.
Dominic was at the head of the group as they continued their descent.
No one spoke as they walked; everyone just wanted to make it down safely, and they didn't have room in their heads for anything else.
Luckly none died during the descent; a few people had to be carried after falling and twisting an ankle.
Below them stretched a lush forest. A thin layer of foliage covered the ground, and small animals and birds could be seen darting around in between the trees. The smell of the wild forest reminded Dominic of the outskirts of the refugee camp before the crossing, the smell of dirt, decaying leaves, tree sap and various other things he failed to recognise flooding his nostrils.
Smiling Dominic continued on into the woods, still at the front of the group but much closer now. It was far easier to lose sight of a group in a forest than it was on the slopes, as he had learnt when he got lost in the forest outside the camp for a few days.
As he walked, two other people came up on his left, a girl and a boy of similar build and hight both looked around his age, if he had to guess and had messy black hair. The girls went down to her shoulders while the guys covered their ears. They both had the same amber eyes and tanned skin.
They walked in silence for a few moments before the boy finally asked curiously, "Are you Nebrasian?"
Dominic wasn't surprised by his question; according to his Mother and Father, their tribe had been nomads before, their yearly migrations spanning over too many plains and forests to count. When the Highmere Empire came with its advanced enchantments and items blessed by gods, the tribe put up a vicious fight, refusing to give up the wilds they relied on to live. After a decade spanning conflict, they where finaly subued and their story became famous among the people of Highmere. Its people celebrated the conquest and the spreading of thier tyranical Sun Gods' light and name.
Nebrasians looked quite different from the people of Highmere, who mostly had black hair and brown or amber eyes. Nebrasians had bronze colored hair and silver eyes; their skin was naturally extremely tanned, nearing brown. Dominic knew this because that was how he looked, and his mother and father, too, and the few other Nebrasians he had seen as well.
"Yes, I am," replied Dominic, looking to end the conversation there. He wasn't good with people, and he didn't have the energy for a conversation anyway.
However, the boy had other ideas, saying, "Really! Then you can hunt? Do you know the Animal Tongue? Did your parents go hunting for Highmerian settlers in your forests? Did you?!"
The onslaught of questions kept coming, causing Dominic to shift away from the overly enthusiastic boy.
Dominic, who just wanted the conversation to end, answered with short one-word answers.
"No, No, Yes, No"
However, this did not deter the body, which continued to bombard Dominic with questions for the rest of the journey, while the girl beside him listened, with an odd look in her eyes that Dominic failed to recognise.
By the time the body stopped, they had reached a small town situated on the bank of the Great Artery. They quickly found a small stone building with welcoming people inside, which Dominic quickly learnt was an official building meant for refugess form Highmere. The only payment they had to give was all of the information they had on the Highmere Empire.
After eating his fill, Dominic fell onto his assigned bed in the sleeping quarters and promtley feel asleep. Finally safe and in a proper bed for the first time in months, Dominic had the best sleep he had had in a long time, maybe ever.
He had made it to the Tier kingdom at last... almost.