Acacia Chronicle

Meanwhile, in the Luminary of the Cathanian Imperium’s Forbidden City…

In its hallowed darkness and endless halls lit sparingly by purple flames encased in iron braziers, behind towering pillars of black and grey inscribed purple and green with necromantic runes, cowered the souls of deceased dragons long past. Formlessly, they ebbed and flowed, trembling in fear like mortals on the brink of death. And perhaps, rightfully so.

They could sense it, the presence of the living amongst them. The one dragon of their kind that they all feared more than death itself – the Archon of Elicia, the Sorcerer King Terask Dagon. In the eternal darkness of their final resting place, they feared him, feared the red sheen of his corporeal scales, and envied the burning orange fire of his lidless eyes that seemed to set the shadows alight with a mere glance.

And yet, one of them remained before him. Unafraid, the gaze of his white eyes half-mad, and the spectral scales and wings of his bodiless form riddled endlessly with scabs and blade-shaped wounds that once dripped endlessly with rotten blood.

“Vhal…”

“Dagon, you dare…”

“I had to be sure of it,” Terask Dagon rumbled with a cruel lash of his forked tongue. “That she disposed of you, as I wanted. It is a fitting end, is it not?”

“Anna… my beloved…”

“Is that her name? I forget it, at times. But, I do know what you have done to her. To think that you would call her your beloved! Truly, you have lost your mind, ‘brother’!”

“I truly did… love her…”

“Yes… you surely did. I have witnessed more of this ‘love’ of yours, than what I would prefer.”

The white eyes of Izoria Vhal burned lividly.

“Now… I only want… her…”

“She is mine now,” Terask Dagon stated, smiling a smile that revealed rows of sharpened fangs. “And she will show me, the power of my prototype Bloodstone.”

“Show… you? I saw… what you did to her… she…”

“Is Hellbourne, yes. She is a Hybrid, the first of my mortal instruments empowered by the eldritch rites. Did you see how the Bloodstone animates her body? In the future, those like her will fight at my command.”

“The Hellbourne…” Izoria Vhal snarled in reply, baring a spectral maw of ghostly fangs rife with ethereal decay at Terask Dagon. “Belong to Elicia, and her alone… our mother Sophia, would never…”

“Just like you… our mother is dead.”

“And you, as our ‘Sorcerer King’… betray her wishes. My son, Anna… all because of you…”

“No…”

With a wide and fanged grin upon his red maw, Terask Dagon reared up his head to look upon the spectral visage of Izoria Vhal. Whose white eyes, began to dilate with terror.

“You misunderstand me, ‘brother’. I do this for our mother Sophia… and for all dragonkind. We, who were meant to rule this world in her name.”

“You say this… and they all fear you for it. Except for me, because I know better…”

“Do you? Truly?”

“More than a traitor ever could. Because of you, look at what becomes of us in death…”

“Traitor…?”

Terask Dagon let the word rest upon the edge of his forked tongue, before coiling it back in with a cruel relish. For indeed, it was true that the Hellbourne had chosen their master, all those centuries ago when the barrier between realms was shattered by the will of the elven Emperor of old. Just as they, the dragons, had chosen theirs. Ever since then, the Hellbourne had been the ones to decide the fate of Melodia. Not the gods of old, and especially not mankind nor the elves who both thought themselves masters of the eldritch rites.

“I have seen what awaits us in true death, ‘brother’…”

He knew, far too well, that it was with the Hellbourne, that the accursed human deity who called herself Elicia had conquered the world. Bringing all of Melodia under her grasp, establishing the Veil that would act as the barrier between worlds, and bringing the Hellbourne to heel. Most of them, at least, for he knew of unsanctioned Hellbourne rituals enacted by the hand of the enemies of the Empire of Arcadia, of eldritch rites upon bloody altars far beyond the places under the protection of Elicia’s Law.

“I have seen what awaits men and elves, and I would never wish it on any of us. Not even, for the likes of you.”

It was in the face of this overwhelming power and the Veil that he, Terask Dagon the Sorcerer King, had bent the knee to Elicia, to serve as her Archon. Much had been won that day, in that pact sealed all those centuries ago. That the Luminary, this great collective unconsciousness of all dragonkind in death, would come to be. And that all of his brethren, even enemies like Izoria Vhal, would be spared from Elicia's hunger for souls in the afterlife. The devatas of the Central Church preached of an elysian paradise awaiting the faithful when they passed on, but he knew better. It was to be the fate of all mortals to face oblivion, that their souls would sustain the Veil that kept most of the Hellbourne within Elicia's grasp. And through this, salvation. That by her blessing, all of Melodia would be sanctified forevermore.

“For that, if I am a traitor to all of you, then so be it.”

Upon saying this, Terask Dagon shot a glance at the darkened pillars around him and his brother. The spirits and souls of his fellow dragons long deceased were watching him, and there was a fear amongst them so tangible in the otherworldly air that could be felt upon his snout, and nothing more. Not a single objection, not at all. And perhaps, rightfully so.

“You have dishonoured us all, ever since that day with Elicia…” Izoria Vhal hissed, his words a maddened rasp. “You are a traitor, no matter what you say… especially after what you did… to my little Anna…”

“Elicia is weakening, day by day,” Terask Dagon stated coldly, carefully eyeing the spectral rot still present upon the ghostly visage of his older brother. “Our brethren living or dead, who all cower before me, are too eager to die at the hands of a mere human. No. In time, with the Hybrid, I shall have the Hellbourne serve us. As they do, the Black Legion… and it will be our heavenly mandate, once more. Our time, upon Melodia…”

“Our time? You speak for yourself… and yourself alone…”

“I speak for your beloved Anna, as well…”

“You dare, say her name to me…”

“Yes I do, ‘brother’,” Terask Dagon stated, as a tear of blood trickled down his lidless eyes. “Watch closely, now. Even in death, the enchantments stitched upon the flesh of these mortal supplicants to serve as my eyes and ears, are as functional as ever.”

“You…”

Bringing his orange sigil to bear upon his claws like a blazing star, Terask Dagon brought forth an image of the mansion that once belonged to Izoria Vhal. Like a pair of eyes opening from the throes of deep slumber, the image shifted and blurred, before focusing into a clear and lucid view of blood and carnage unbound. Where past the fallen servant’s gaze, down the staircase and at the ground floor, Anna de la Lune could be seen in bloodstained robes of purple and silver, a crimson glow visible from her left breast as she shambled aimlessly amidst corpses and blood, the eldritch chains adorning her body lagging erratically across the open grave wrought by her own hand.

“Anna…” Izoria Vhal rasped, his voice heavy with yearning. “My beloved…”

“Now, she is far beyond my control…” Terask Dagon stated with a tinge of annoyance as he ignored his older brother’s words. “Little better than a used doll to be tossed away. For now, she will show me the worthiness of my research into the eldritch rites of the Hellbourne.”

“Elicia will not be pleased with your treason! Your fellow Archons will see to it… that you will suffer, in time…”

“I am counting on it. That they will make their move, soon enough,” Terask Dagon rumbled eagerly, as a wicked grin formed upon his maw. “After all, what better testing ground exists for my Hybrid prototype than a blood-soaked battlefield, against the strongest of what my fellow Archons have to offer?”