Shackles Of The Past

Chapter 16- Shield in the dark

The soul is born old,

but grows young.

~Plato.

***

Year 1789…

Heavy thuds sounded in the forest. Panting, heart racing, chest hurting, a young lady ran bare footed without looking behind, not caring to settle down and catch her breath. It was obvious she was running for a reason, away from someone… or something.

She didn't care if she stumbled or if her cloak was torn or if her hair was disarranged. She ripped it loose and went on, the rocks beneath her feet hurting her but not stopping her.

As she continued pacing into the cold and empty woods, it was just the sounds of her ragged breaths that proved the eeriness and absolute silence around her. The moon, snarled in clouds, gave an intermittent and filmy light as the stars filled up every quadrant of heavens.

The breeze drew her gown and lowered it, and made the pines shiver ever so slightly, as the wind wept down as if trying to urge her onward.

For a long time she moved on and on, in the dark, sometimes stumbling, sometimes catching hold of a thick bark to study herself. The frequent turn and turn alone made it known she wasn't sure of her direction. It was just her, pacing into an unknown destination like her whole purpose of existence depended on that run.

After hardly gulping the lump down her throat, she inched towards the left side of the path. She knew the stars above even if the clouds tried to obscure them. The path descended into a small vale covered with sharp stones that hurt her feet, and made her stumble more than once, losing her balance.

Indeed, the starry heaven brought her a strange, painful emotion. When last she had stopped, it was upon a high crest. Her long legs ached tremendously as her feet. But being in this thick forest, this place which meant more to her than any bit of land in this world, she remembered a time when her limbs could have not ached, when she could have hurried up the hills in big loping steps.

Screaming, she dove threw the back of the tree and slammed her back against it. Air rushed from her lungs and the pain shot through her leg. She swayed and fell, unable to stand.

"Ah!" Disoriented, she examined the wound. A sharp stick stuck through her gown, stabbing into her feet. She winced, feeling the heat begin to spread across her skin.

What was the pain? It gave her an insight into the pain of others. And how humans suffered a terrible pain. And pain was pain, whether the physical or the mental. Not the wisest of men or women would ever know which was worse; the pain of the heart or the pain of the flesh.

At last, she turned and sought even higher ground, climbing steadily up to the slope even when it seemed impossible. And she reached for a grip upon branches and firm rock to steady herself. And she kept on moving.

The wind came up again, slapping her skin unbearably. The pain in her feet grew worse and she fell. She reached for anything to hold on to stop her fall, and she caught hold of a broken rock, holding it firmly and dragging herself up with it.

It took her long minutes before she could finally land on a soft grass above. Catching rough breaths, she shut her eyes tightly and pressed her lips together to bite the pain. She allowed herself to breathe the air of life, allowed it to fill every corners and inch it could. Just for now, she wanted to feel that.

In reflex, she reached out for the stick inside her flesh, intending to pull it off her feet. A touch almost felt like a bite and she drew her hand back, the pain almost blinding her. Its bleeding didn't cease to stop and it made her worry to death.

She had lived over centuries to discover the night creatures that existed and roomed upon their land. The mixture of vampires, werewolves, and demons escalated, reducing the rate of human kind. The humans were known to be food to satiate their hunger and quench their burning thirst.

In sum, these creatures partook their subterfuge, declaring themselves superior over all beings, learning their languages to their strong holds, taking the fragile humans who wanted to survive, in that way fooling them. And now, the threat did not only come from vampires, demons or werewolves, another strange creature existed. They were called Dark Liches.

They appear gaunt and skeletal with withered flesh. They caught scents like vampires and could perform spells like witches. For the witches who were very rare, these creatures had begun to breed through humans, from mother to daughter, father to son, copulating the kingdom and eventually, the land.

And the most awful aspect of all this, the only real true part of it, was that these Dark Liches could often foresee the future like soothsayers and tell on spellbinding powerful magic that was capable of luring any creature out of their dwellings, and drawing them to their rituals.

Over time, in spite of the population of these creatures, which was always around and gained some impetus every time some power humans were captured, they succeeded with this ruse. Even after claiming superiority, stranding the poor humans helpless, turning other humans as their allies, their greed lured them into the Highlands. A place called the Order.

The Order was a lost land in the northern part of Scootherm, between heaven and hell. It was a sacred place, divided into two layers that identified the gate of Hell and the garden of Heaven.

On the right side was a giant crater of an immense volcano, miles and miles in width, presenting itself a great fertile valley surrounded by ominous yet beautiful cliffs, a tropical valley with numerable geysers and warm springs bubbling from the earth, to make small streams and beautiful lake that connected Heaven and Hell.

The air was moist always, the trees that grew about the stream, the ferns also of gigantic size and the fruit of all kind and colors abundant. The cliff sharing with vines of wild berry and grape, and the grass forever thick and green.

On the left side, scarcely ever did the wind come into the valley, sealed off as it was, except from two or three passes from the coasts. The coasts were dangerous, for though the water was colder than the coast on the left side, it was nevertheless cold. It breathes out of the water, running down the lake. Down to the most treasured sacred thing that brought power, wealth and kept the world balanced at the top of an oak tree.

A magnificent tree where both light and darkness resides in. Behold stood something that shone brightly with the two abominations.

It was known as the Book.

Out of greed, it became an obsession to these Dark Liches and their Lord. He craved for it like honey to the mouth of a child as they days passed. His entrancement to power was like a magnificent voice of choir from a great singer.

Plagued by this, a great war broke one dark day, in the time of Heir Luc and Heiress Evana, the protectors of the sacred treasure. But they died trying to protect it; they lived up being the image of the true protectors that sacrificed themselves for, which unfortunately fell into the hands of these evil creatures.

As time went on, months, years and eventually centuries, these Dark Liches including their Lord became much stronger than any being, conquering and controlling every creature, misusing its power over time. He ruled over all kingdoms, building new laws of the land.

They were the strongest, mightiest, and most powerful amongst all. Turning humans into meal and other creatures as slaves. But with all those years, the Book hadn't been fully opened without something; something that holds the power to unlock the abilities.

It was called the Key.

The Lord had gathered numerous sorceress to his favor, and all he were able to find out was the blood of a witch. Sacrificing the most powerful creature was another ritual to transverse half of the abilities but not all, granting him half of its potential. Not without this Key, a mysterious entity hidden for centuries.

Within those span of time half of the abilities went to the Lord due to the numerous amount of witch blood he had sacrificed, according to the sorcerer, it was only the blood of the key that held the power to open the Book. He had turned, twisted and searched for this unknown key over yet another decade but nothing. It was as though the so called 'Key' had also gone missing pushing him to the edge of something more worse.

He gathered all the sorceress, white-haired witches, Pure and Dark ones and sacrificed them all, in hope the ability would be his. It was a ruse of risk and greed, but he stood to it. But nothing. The ability did not transverse to him after all the sacrifices, masking him something dangerous. Something far more gothic.

After the war, as the daughter and heiress to the lost treasure, she made a vow to return it, to prevent darkness from reigning, returning it to the Order where it rightfully belong.

After many years of plan, she appeared as a spy to the kingdom where it laid, infiltrated its inner circle. From a slave, she grew wiser and stronger only to gain the Lord's attention. She was made the Advisor over all cases and grew closer to him with her success, gaining his trust and support. But even the years she had served him, unbeknownst to him, she was that Key carefully using her loyalty as s ruse, a facade made to conceal her true purpose, but never had he made mention of the whereabouts of the lost and hidden treasure.

It all happened one shadowed night she monitored the Lord's movement, to realize an underground passage beneath the walls of his chambers. With stealthy movement, she followed his trails under the cover of darkness and waited until he disappeared before making her way through the tunnel she had discovered.

That midnight was when it all occurred…

***