Fated Demise: Quenderian Wars

Unfortunate w***e

And so to continue my task. I should go to where the dark lord resides. A creature in deep slumber. Off to where Azazel had ordered me to go. It was supposed to be Raymore's job. f**k Raymore.

I just had to have a stop at Daelyrock - the home of the Gens - to feed my horse. No one had dared to give water for me or at least even for my horse. The bakeshop closed as soon as I went near.

"We know you", a man said.

"Well, I'm sorry. I know you not", I replied.

He was about to throw a punch but I blocked it with my pointy elbow. His fist hurt like hell.

He looked me in the eye. His eyes turned all white.

He said words that contained atrocity, "A wish fulfilled with magic's absence, believed in answers that will there be. An angel fallen yet always lifted high and shall bring forth salvation to all humanity."

"s**t. Get out of here!" he yelled at me like I was some stray dog.

As I was just walking to meet my relatives there, a bucket of water with a foul smell was thrown toward me from the window of a two-story house.

"Murderer!"

Aaah, a sweet welcome from my folks. I missed this, I told myself.

At last, I arrived at my Uncle Carlus's doorstep and knocked.

He searched for his visitor's appearance and locked the door again.

"Oh, please. Come on!" I said.

I waited for someone to open the door for me.

"Alright then, I shall leave."

No one there even bothered to agree. I waited only a few more minutes. And then just gave up.

I walked to where I made my horse stay. And looked at it. I thought to myself that I should've brought Glorio or even asked for him to portal me.

I rode my horse and was decided to proceed. I should get revenge.

With my horse, I rode through the steep Golden Mountains of the West. At first, I rode my horse fast for I needed to leave that unwelcoming f*****g disgusting village. As I went farther, I slowed my horse's pace.

I was still wet. The night was cold and full of the music of crickets. Long howls from wolves, I could hear. And the moon shone so brightly that I could see clearly through the night.

I should first find a sacrifice. Where to find one? I hoped to find an Earthbreed there in the mountains.

I heard a roar not so far from where I was at.

"Oh, f**k!"

A mountain lion.

I could hear the roar becoming more audible as the lion's distant presence was coming for me. It should be that hungry because it's chasing a mounted man in the dead of night.

I made my horse run as fast as it could ever run. I didn't want to be eaten by an animal only to be discovered in that mountain a week after.

The lion appeared, suddenly, from the darkness. It attacked and chewed my horse's neck. I watched it devour the helpless stallion and I wanted to initiate an attack. But not a careless one. It seemed to have not seen me yet or chose to ignore me.

Slowly, I drew my sword. And its blade sang only enough for the lion to notice me.

It roared once more.

The fierce beast abandoned its kill to hunt the prey that was standing with a sword.

It dived to devour me. And I was certain that it opened its mouth wider than before

And as it landed, the sword received it through the lion's mouth. From its palate to the tip of its skull, my sword sliced through.

Good, I was covered in the lion's blood. But at least, I then had a sacrifice.

I looked at my horse. I asked myself how I was supposed to carry a lion.

Psychelons are no Chira. We only have the power of our minds.

I knew I should have brought Glorio.

One thing, if people were there that night, I must have been humiliated. For another, I was unknowing of the beasts that lurk on that mountain and it terrified me.

The great murderer - Suade - must not be seen afraid of something, I fixed my thoughts. I must be fearless and only in that way, no one could see the vulnerability that existed inside me and take advantage of it.

So on that night until the next sunrise, I carried the lion's dead body to Vergen - the lake behind the Volcano of Surtur. The lion had already stank and it hurt my nose.

The abandoned lake was opaque and murky. The reason why no one ever visits Vergen. Or is it the only reason though?

It reflects the image of the sky and the rising of the sun. Only darker and on shades of grime and obscenity.

I offered my sacrifice - the dead lion. And that Azazel's monster would consume it whole.

The beast must be properly fed before Azazel takes his human form.

I looked at my surrounding. It was quiet. The sunrise did not make it any less horrifying.

I looked back.

Only tiny waves were there. The lion had disappeared.

Withered leaves, falling snowflakes, burning bushes, three of four seasons.

Oh, I remembered the story.

Seasons of ruins or seasons of abundance. It depends on where you are standing still. Seasons of happiness or seasons of swamping tears. It depends on where you look. Of laughter or screams in unbearable hurting. It depends on whom you'll listen to.

How can one see the horizon as the gate to the skies and not the dead-end of oceans?

But the story happened not in those three seasons. It started alongside the blooming of flowers and the ripening of fruits. It started in a season where destruction is almost non-existent. The season where Kaia - the goddess of creation - reigns.

The busy farmers of Wailstone were singing in joy as they harvest the crops they'd been looking forward to for seasons. Not just this, the crown has hosted a festival for the two victories the kingdom has acquired - abundance in harvest and the battle against the kingdom of Ivoryhill.

There stood the Kingshield guarding the ever-honorable King Baron of House Seran.

"The kingdom is safe from the enemies. My most respected Kingshield Commander - Anthony of House Batydor, you can now have your jubilee. Sing as many songs as you like. Drink barrels of wine and beer, if possible," the king had announced to his Kingshield.

Ser Anthony replied still with great reverence, "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I will never leave you unguarded. I've sworn an oath to be by your side in every..."

"Stop!" the king had ordered and added, "The kingdom is as grateful as me for your leadership in the recent war."

"So go and I will be pleased with your satisfaction"

He answered, "Surely as you command, Your Majesty".

The commander had sauntered through the celebration of the people along the alleys toward a brothel he was to go to.

Why a brothel? Why a brothel when knights are sworn to chastity?

He continued ambling into the narrowing alleys between two houses. He seemed so familiar with the directions and the path to this brothel. It was almost he had been living there for half his lifetime. It was as if he resided in that place after leaving the Batydor's village - Daelyrock - to serve the king as a loyal member of the Kingshield.

Behold, this knight with a firm posture yet eyes ever competing with his lips whenever he smiled.

What secret awaits ahead in the brothel?

Facing the birch door painted with a dark medium orchid color. Feeling first the warmth of its surface, he knocked 4 times with a rhythm that served as the pass.

The door opened. It was his brother - Carlus. The brother he had loved and hated at the same time. For his brother had achieved things he could never accomplish or even think of accomplishing, he envied him.

However, he knew no other man to go to. A man as honest as the clear sky. He was wise. He was once named the Book Lord for his inhuman understanding of written words and letters in languages a few could only grasp.

Carlus led him to a place with plenty of rooms. One room was almost identical to another.

He thought he had heard screams of pleasure or pain. He heard every disturbingly loud noise, the s*x that was happening in every room.

Despite all distractions, he had heed for something distinct. He heard a different scream-cry. A cry for help, perhaps. A cry for agony, possibly.

They raced toward the room where solely that voice was heard, Ser Anthony and Carlus.

He opened the door with great anticipation and fear. Fear of what?

He feared that his son may not survive. He constantly feared that the woman who was about to birth him die from the pain. The woman he had learned to love since the first time they've become one in flesh.

He helped her go into labor. He held her hand tight as she clenched his.

It had been long. The agony had been prolonged.

One final push and an angel would be born. A strong push.

At last, there birthed a charming young boy. Covered in blood. Crying out loud. He longed to be cradled by his sweet mother.

She held him. Took him in her arms with great euphoria as Ser Anthony enjoyed watching them.

The baby smiled at her mother as if they were communicating. She returned it. She smiled even more than she did in all of her life.

She smiled hard. Tears went off her very own eyes.

She continued to smile. It was an unusual smile for Anthony but he stayed in his place.

The baby laughed wildly as his mother reached for the scissors laid on the bed.

It was too late for Anthony to react. She stabbed it into her left eye, so deep that Anthony couldn't easily get it.

The baby was still laughing as he was carried by Carlus. The blood present on his face was the blood of the woman who would have loved him for as long as she lived.

She was draining out of life. And help couldn't easily come because of the celebration and for all of the Greens were also invited to the castle.

Anthony did nothing but wail for the death of his love. He had trained to be the best soldier in Wailstone but he couldn't save the only person he had loved his whole life.

So what he would later do is thought to be justifiable.

He tugged the scissors from her eye and sliced his throat open.

As light as the snowflakes drop, his blood gushed.

As raging like a wildfire in the summer, his eyes were left wide open.

As lifeless as the leaves in fall, his face and life slowly withered.

Yet people don't understand this for this story happened in spring. A poor unfortunate w***e, that's what they called her. They called me Suade for they thought they knew that I persuaded my mother to kill herself. A horrible name for a murderous child, they say.

Now, people tell me to see the horizon as a gateway to the skies but my world had already been taken away from me before I could say; before I could argue and talk them out of their misery.

The gods of the other seasons could have been more gracious. The gods of the three seasons could have been more merciful than Kaia.

Yuan, Ellur, and Syrth. Gods of summer, winter, and fall. I would dedicate my life to taking back what Kaia had deprived me of. My parents abandoned me and left shame and disgrace to my identity.