Belzara
1219 Words
Karl’s fingers clenched around the pendant as it began to vibrate violently, its warmth seeping into his skin. A chorus of voices rose in his ears, countless whispers layered upon one another, chanting in languages he could not recognize, yet somehow understood. Before he could pull away, the stone flared with blinding light and dragged him in.
Karl felt himself unravel, as though his soul were being torn from its shell and hurled into the heart of the pendant. The world fractured into visions, too many, too fast.
He saw kingdoms rise in splendor, only to be consumed by flame. Towering cities crumbled as armies clashed below, their battlefields carpeted with the fallen. Demons marched across Celestra like a living tide of darkness, blotting out hope wherever they went. Then came glimpses of the human world; secrets buried in history, truths long forgotten, and flashes of futures that might be, branching endlessly like shattered glass.
The knowledge poured into him without mercy.
Karl clutched his head as his thoughts began to splinter, his mind buckling beneath the impossible weight of it all.
“Stop!” he screamed. “Stop, please!!”
The visions shattered.
Karl gasped as his eyes flew open. He was back in the dungeon cell, sprawled against the cold stone floor, his clothes soaked through with sweat. His lungs burned as he dragged in desperate breaths, as if he had been drowning.
The pendant lay motionless in his hand, its glow fading into nothing.
Karl stared at it, his heart pounding, trying to piece together what he had seen, and why it felt as though the future itself had just brushed against him.
And worse… what role he was meant to play.
****
The Underworld
Belzara strode toward the towering gates of the blood-red castle, her feet crunching against the crimson sands. Violent winds howled across the wasteland, tearing at her long black cape, but she walked on without resistance, as though the storm itself dared not challenge her.
Shapes moved in the distance, wanderer demons trailing her path. She sensed them watching, even though the darkened skies allowed little light to betray their forms.
With a single push, Belzara forced the massive doors open and entered the throne room. She ignored the jagged pillars and burning braziers, stopping only when she reached a vast stone wall adorned with a painting;
A demon stared back at her, six arms outstretched, two horns crowning its head.
The latter which she also possessed
“Father…” Belzara called.
She swept her long silver hair aside, exposing the nape of her neck. The skin split open, revealing a crimson eyeball that blinked awake.
“Belzara, my child…” a deep, echoing voice answered.
She extended her claws and pierced her own palm. Blood dripped onto the stone floor as the painting ignited with a deep red glow.
“What is it you desire, Father?” she asked calmly.
“My vessel has awakened.” he answered
Belzara’s eyes narrowed. “The human boy… Shall I retrieve him?”
“No,” the voice replied. “Not yet. Azareal is yet to complete his mission. The vessel is not ready for my emergence.”
“Then why have you summoned me, Great One?”
“I have another task for you, one that must be completed before the vessel is prepared.”
The eye on her nape bulged outward, burning as the message was forced directly into her mind. Tears of blood flowed out the eye, trailing down her neck. Her eyes lit up as she understood his request.
“I…” she said, bowing her head. “I will not fail you, Father.”
She turned and exited the castle, only to see her son Valdrik waiting outside.
His presence drew an immediate scowl from her face. “Why are you here?” she snapped.
Valdrik climbed the steps, forcing himself to meet her gaze as she loomed over him. “I bring news, Mother. The bearer of light has been discovered. With your permission, I wish to-”
“No!” Belzara’s shout cut him off.
Valdrik faltered. “But, Mother-”
“Going after the bearer of light and the Sky Kingdoms is certain death,” she said coldly. “A foolish risk I will not allow you to take.”
Valdrik clenched his fists. “Is it foolish… or is it only foolish because it’s me?”
Belzara turned away, dismissing him as she began to walk.
“Mother!” Valdrik called after her. “Give me a chance! Let me prove myself, prove that I’m worthy of your respect!”
“You have nothing to prove to me.”
Her words struck harder than any blade.
Valdrik’s voice wavered. “Why do you despise me so much? Why won’t you let me show you what I am capable of?”
Belzara stopped, but she did not turn around.
“You are not ready,” she said. “That is all.”
A portal tore open before her, and she stepped through without another glance.
Valdrik stood alone. Slowly, he reached into his coat and withdrew a card, turning it over to reveal the number '5' etched on its surface.
“Let the Creator guide me,” he whispered. “I’ll show you, Mother.”
****
Karl awoke the next morning to the clatter of boots.
He shot to his feet as a prison guard stood waiting at the cell door.
“Move,” the guard ordered.
Karl followed him out of the dungeon and into the open air. Sunlight washed over him, warm and blinding, and he froze for a moment, savoring it. He couldn't believe he could miss daylight this much. Fresh air filled his lungs, and with it came a familiar face.
Olenna's.
She was waiting for him outside, dressed in a black uniform this time. When she saw him, she burst into laughter.
“You look like a rat that crawled out of a gutter!”
“I wonder why,” Karl muttered. “Maybe it’s because I haven’t eaten, bathed, or changed my clothes in a day.”
Her smile faded instantly. “Oh.”
Karl glanced around. “Where’s the other guy? The one with the purple hair?”
“Lord Rodric won’t be joining us,” she said quickly. “Busy man.”
“I figured.”
“Great!” Olenna grinned, looping her arm through his and dragging him forward. “I can’t wait to show you around the Citadel! What do you want to see first?!”
“The bathroom,” Karl said without hesitation.
“Hmph! You’re funny.”
“Please,” he added. “Just take me there-”
A sharp sudden pressure fell over him, cold, heavy, and watching.
Karl stiffened and spun around, accidentally pushing Olenna aside.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing around.
Karl’s gaze locked onto a distant tower. A woman with bright orange hair stood there, staring directly at him. She wore white and gold robes, identical to the ones Olenna had worn the day before.
“It’s nothing,” Karl said, forcing himself to turn away. “Let’s go.”
But even as he followed Olenna, he could still feel her eyes on him.
Watching his every move.
- Writer
