In the Beginning
1195 Words
It was in the days of the Flood when Nepheshar people took shelter into the depths of the earth. Some were drowned by the raging waters that surged from beneath. Some were crushed under the rock that fell in the darkness. Others were burned by earth`s hot blood. Some were choked by madness… But they survived. In the depths of the earth, they survived. Their dwelling places were great caves turned into towns. Towns turned into cities, cities into a sprawling kingdom that reached many miles in all directions. In the depths of the earth, they survived. Then they lived. Lived from the soil so fertile that the Nepheshar people could eat it and be filled, from gentle waters so clean and pure that thirst would disappear after a single sip and from such a bond between them that the word “alone” was gradually lost to the past of Nepheshar turbulent history.
They were the race of builders and warriors, poets, and scientists. Whatever they made, they made it strong and beautiful. Be it in the form of stone, steel, or verses, Nepheshar proved to be true descendants of their Nephilim heritage. They themselves were both beautiful and strong in body and in mind and in spirit. Yet for all their worth, the great deep land was not theirs. They learned that the unfathomable depths of the earth belonged to the race even older and more potent than their own. It belonged to the fallen angels. Demons and devils of terrible dark, dark fire, and darkness itself… creatures that would share the bowels of the earth only with the dead or with the slaves, and the Nepheshar refused to be either of those. Thus the war was waged. In the depths of the earth, the war was waged. Great earthquakes followed these terrible battles, reflecting the suffering beneath for all above to see, yet for no one to understand.
Living without Sun turned the skin of Nepheshar people into dark grey, the color of the unyielding marble they were so fond of. And their eyes remained dark grey, eyes who`s genetic heritage saw Heaven itself. They say that you could not gaze upon the eyes of the Nepheshar without shuddering in fear from the knowledge hidden within them. Yet for all their worth, they were losing ground, lives, and war, they were losing everything for few things can stand for too long against the unholy might of infernal legions and the dark majesty of their lord. They called him “Orga Elmion”, “Horolus” and “Bered-Dumyn” or “World Rider”, “Foeheart” and “Hope-Ender”. To oppose him, his fearsome servants and their powers, Nepheshar of old forged a unique artifact. It was unlike anything their hands ever made. And they made technology and art of such forms that only the greatest human minds can even begin to understand. To simple minds, this artifact would look like a hand. Left hand to be precise and it was called “Orzuda” or “The Crown”.
Nepheshar had no qualms over the throne. Be it by the grace of God, the gift of nature, or product of their own unified will, the future king would always be born without a left hand. They were no dynasties within their society, such a baby could be born to anyone and the coming of the future ruler was the only day Nepheshar celebrated anything. It was also the day when the actual king would finally get the peace of mind knowing that he has an heir. The Orzuda was an artifact of great power. Fueled by earth`s core and guided by the will of its wielder, Orzuda could generate a vast amount of energies both to destroy and to heal as befits the dual nature of the earth itself. It could reshape the stone and bring healing waters from the deep, rekindle the spark of life or extinguish it in a brutal and fiery way. For a Nepheshar king or “Shan” as they were also called, it also meant to be whole. Furthermore, Orzuda was not made of gold or anything shiny. Instead, it was forged from the remains of the last Nephilim crown, hence the name. This unknown, dark, celestial metal would glitter and glow in strange ways that were almost disturbing to look upon. More than anything, without exception, it perfectly suited each king as the living, crushing, loving, and, most of all, mighty left hand when he comes of age. The bond between Orzuda and the king is a strong, albeit mysterious, one. It is said that a king without a crown is still a king but that king without Orzuda is less than a man. However, for all their technologically advanced weaponry, relics, tactical acumen, and unity, the Nepheshar were losing, and after thousands of years of pitiless struggle, they fought their last battle at the Gates of the First City. Just before Dereloth, the last king of the Nepheshar, led the final charge of his people, an angel appeared.
The faith of the Nepheshar remained strong throughout all of these long centuries and God rewarded them with a choice. “Submit” the angel said. “For distant is the hour of their demise and far is the place of their doom”. Nepheshar people looked astounded, whispering between themselves even as the warriors of Hell pounded the great Gates of the First City. If they submit to the will of God, He will forgive them for past sins and violence they caused on the face of the earth in those early days. But how can they endure standing by, gazing upon the punishment? Dereloth knew that this punishment reflected God`s own pain. For it is God who stood by as Nepheshar ancestors slaughtered all opposition above ground as their might had no equal there. Dereloth knew this. And more than that, he knew the answer. Look on the faces of other Nepheshar told him that they also knew. Dereloth was a king, not God. And Nepheshar were warriors, not martyrs. He handed a piece of paper to the angel and took his place as the first in line. “Hand me your answer, Nepheshar”. Angel called after him. Dereloth didn’t even turn around to face him as he replied before leading the final charge of the Nepheshar against their hated enemy. “No”.
As the battle unfolded in front of the angel`s very eyes, he stood in awe as the sheer ferocity of infernal warriors pitted against Nepheshar`s unyielding spirit was both terrific and inspiring to behold. Still, God sent him here not only to convey the choice for which God already knew the answer but to save the last king of this ancient and proud race. He placed the baby in a wooden basket and prepared for departure. The sounds of battle echoed around and the insides of the earth trembled from the clashes of these mortal enemies. Nepheshar could not hope to win. Yet they hoped nonetheless. Their last battle was a source of many debates among God`s faithful. Some said that Nepheshar failed God`s trust and chose pride over His divine will. Some even called such act a betrayal. Others called it… a Righteous Blasphemy…
- Writer
