Lore of Dread- Finale

Finale

This is the finale of Lore of Dread. Dread’s epic saga is coming to an end.

The arrow that was fired at Dread slammed into a tree next to him and fell to the cold ground.

Dread turned to the direction the arrow came from, only to find a hooded figure coming at him, metal knife in hand. Dread moved swiftly to the side.

Under his hood Dread could barely make out a scar that stretched across his face. This was Phrix’s signature.

The scar that could only belong to Phrix represented one ominous Hallow who chose to fight back. Phrix fired more arrows into at Dread, but somehow he maintained the ability of dodging them.

That Hallow…was Dread. Many years ago, the two met, and fought, and were equal in strength. The unsettled feud the two had was seemingly everlasting, and evergreen. With no end, no resolution, except one would live to kill, the other would live in fear. That is why Dread could not bear the thought of his two mortal enemies, Erebus and Phrix, working together.

Albeit many years had passed without fighting, Dread could still kill.

He fired a single arrow at Phrix. He collapsed to the ground struggling to stand up and fight back, or so it appeared.

Phrix used his remaining energy to charge himself at Dread. He heard him mutter the words, “You could never escape me. All Hallows fall, in due time.”

But this did not anger Dread, it motivated him. Dread’s growing passion to end his old quarrels and prove himself as a Hallow was released with a single motion of a knife. Dread moved out-of-the-way of Phrix’s knife and thrust the arrow Dread held into Phrix’s chest.

Phrix fell to the ground, struggling to stand up and fight back. Dread ran to Estrid, choosing not to watch Phrix’s inevitable demise.

Though what Dread saw not only shocked him, but left every part of him pulsing with hatred.

She had been hit by Phrix’s arrow. Her side was pierced by the sharp metal spike.

To Dread’s surprise, and dismay, because he cared too much about Estrid staying safe, she stood up.

“Keep running Dread,” she murmured softly. “I can make my way back to the cabin. I will be safe. And I will tell every one of your plight, so your actions tonight are not forgotten, no matter what happens.”

It sounded to Dread like she expected something to go awfully wrong.

“The Spires are at the end of the clearing. Go and stop Erebus.”

Dread was beginning to wish he took Erebus’ admonition against stopping him as Estrid gradually but somehow gracefully made her way back to the cabin, ignoring Phrix’s motionless body. If he did Estrid would be unharmed, he would not be a murderer, his life wouldn’t be in danger

Or would it? Would Estrid still be harmed?

At the end of the forest Dread could see the Spires, and he could make out a figure that appeared to belong to Erebus. He stood next to many large stone pillars. Each of the remarkable pieces of architecture had an assortment of undistinguishable designs carved into them.

The Spires were lined up a strange formation, but appeared to be in the shape of something like a circle, with seemingly unnecessary spires located in seemingly random places. At the centre of the formation was a patch of concrete, cracking and overgrown by vegetation.

Dread launched one of his remaining arrows at Erebus. To Dread’s astonishment he deflected it by the single motion of moving his sword.

The sword of Creed.

Dread attacked Erebus with all his strength in hopes of smiting him with his own bare hands.

Then, through channeling the enigmatic energy he wielded as a Hallow, he struck the sword. Energy radiated from his hand.

But Dread failed to realize what Erebus was doing at that moment. Maybe it was his anger, or maybe he was just unlucky, but Erebus work had already begun.

The shards of the sword flew around him.

A light flashed, blinding Dread’s vision. When Dread opened his eyes again he saw a dull gray mist surround him.

Dread knew what had happened. He just made the mistake that cost him his life.

The sword acted as a gateway between the worlds. When the sword was damaged during the process, they could not travel any further, or back to where they began. It was like getting a broken key lodged in a keyhole. And anything the sword came in contact with was stuck.

The collision of the strength Dread and the word exuded caused a rift in the realms.

Now Dread was stuck between worlds there. Trapped between two worlds.

Dread tried to turn his head but it felt like he was pushing against clay. He saw the shadow of the oak trees in The Forest of Zoticus.

As he turned his head the other way he saw silhouettes of children laughing outside of houses. They were enjoying their Earthly life.

He saw some contorted version of Erebus next to him. Trapped as well.

He heard Estrid’s plea for Dread. She must have returned for him. Or maybe it was a cry so powerful it was audible from her cabin.

He heard her voice echo around him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to find relaxation in the caring voice of his friend.

Dread was confined here. Confined in a place where it felt like all that is dark was concealing him. The horror of this purgatory between worlds overpowered him.  He was neither living nor dead. Was he nonexistent?

Well, at least he stopped Erebus. The Hallows were likely extinct now without him. He fulfilled his duty, and saved both worlds…

That was the duty of any Hallow. To protect your land, and the people you love. Dread was now in the ranks of Creed… and the malice of darkness was vanquished.

That is the end of Lore of Dread. Remember to let me know what you thought of the story, and what you would like to see in next. Expect many more stories coming soon.

© D.K. Phoenix and dkphoenix, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to D.K. Phoenix and dkphoenix with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Lore of Dread- Part 3

      Part 3

Part 3 of Lore of Dread! I hope all of my amazing readers of Lore of Dread will enjoy it. Remember, if you have not read part 1 of Lore of Dread yet, check it out.

The car parked on a paved boulevard. Dread was marched out of the vehicle by the same two guards as before, only this time they did not grab hold of him. They knew he had nowhere to go even if he did want to flee.

They led him up a path with topiary plants on either side. The front of this rarefied building must have been designed to look appealing and friendly. What other need would the Monarch possibly have for the variety of extravagances found outside this tower?

Dread was not even sure he would turn back now if he could, he was determined to find out why he was summoned. As much as he hated Erebus, he knew he needed to confront him one final time. After all Dread had been through, could he have still had a part of him that demanded closure for an old quarrel?

The guards stayed at Dread’s sides as Dread walked to the doors of the Citadel, a hint of pace in his step.

This was the main entrance to the Citadel. There were other doors in this buildings. The main doors were used by officials and guests and led to the lobby. He wasn’t an official, and by no means a guest.  Other doors led to rooms of congress, interrogation rooms and rooms that belonged to Erebus Marrow’s excessive supply of weaponry. He was using none of these doors. This must have meant Dread was going to be treated as a guest. This only raised Dread’s suspicion.

What could Erebus Marrow have planned?

The guards led him through the lobby. The floor was decorated with leather furniture and had a marble floor. It appeared welcoming. The guards directed him to an elevator. The guard on his right pressed a button on the wall and the door of the elevator gradually opened.

Dread stepped inside the glass elevator. A man in the corner of the elevator pressed the highest button on a set of many, each leading to a different destination.

The elevator ascended to the top floor. The door opened and Dread stepped out.

The room he stepped into looked in every way different from the lobby. This room had a much darker appearance, with none of the useless decorations the lobby had. For a moment Dread questioned if he was still in the same tower.

A desk was placed in the middle of the room. On the walls hung a myriad of swords and other sharp weaponry.

Behind the desk sat a man who wore a long shadowy cloak. He had an unkempt brown haircut and rugged features.

Dread instantly recognized the man behind the desk as Erebus Marrow. Erebus gazed at Dread with the unwavering grimace Dread knew all too well.

Dread did not hesitate to consider his next action. He stepped closer to Erebus and raised his voice to ensure the sound would hit Erebus’ ears with the impact Dread desired.

“Why have you summoned me here?” Dread asked most aggressively. Spite was detectable in his voice.

After seconds had passed with no answer, Dread pressed on.

“Who do you believe you are? Summoning me hear after threatening to exile me? You have no right to talk to me. Or even to live for that matter!”

“Silence Kyros!” The Monarch stood up.

For a brief second a grin came across the Monarch’s face. “Only you would ever dare speak to your leader like that.”

“I am not a citizen of Eos, therefore you are not my leader. I am unlike all those other mindless automatons that obey you.” The anger that was in Dread’s voice was growing.

“Shall we get onto business Kyros?” The question was rhetorical. Though he worded the sentence like a question, Dread knew he had no say in the matter.

Though Erebus attempted to act professional, Dread could still see through the veil of commonplace behaviour, and saw the malevolent ruler he truly was.

Erebus continued. “You of all people would know tonight is The Eve of Reckoning. You are aware of the unfathomable power you and only you can unlock tonight. This means only you can aid me.”

For a moment Dread pondered what Erebus could be asking

“You see, Dread. The Hallows have a connection to the Earthly Realm. They were the first to travel there. Their powers allowed them to travel to it through the energy that radiates off The Spires of Mortal. When the Hallow race was becoming scarce, one of the Hallows that remained strong had been Creed. Creed placed his strength into his sword so that Hallows for generations to come would remain strong. You probably know that already though.”

A smirk grew on Erebus’ face as he continued to speak. “What you don’t know is that the sword was never passed down to another generation and was lost in history.”

Erebus unsheathed his sword from his scabbard.

“This is that sword. I found it on one of my recent expeditions,” Erebus spoke smugly. “You may know of my hatred toward the Earthly Realm. And I believe we need to expand our territory. Tonight my comrades and I intend on crossing over and eliminating the inhabitants with the strength of Creed.” Erebus looked at the sword he was brandishing. “I shall banish any Atromitan who is not a citizen of Eos to the ruins of the Earthly Realm. Then Eos will be powerful and safe. I ask you to help me in my task, in return for your safety and prosperity.”

The word ‘comrades’ echoed in Dread mind.

 

What did you think? Erebus’ plan will be put into motion in Part 4. It will be up soon.

-D.K. Phoenix

© D.K. Phoenix and dkphoenix, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to D.K. Phoenix and dkphoenix with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.                                                                                                                                                                                                    

Lore of Dread – Part 2

Part 2

 Here is the next part to Lore of Dread. Things start getting intense from here on out. If you have not read part 1 yet, I recommend you read it first. You will love it!

Estrid led a difficult life. She lost her parents at a young age when they were out hunting. Or at least this is how Dread knew it to be. He was never quite certain, because even though Estrid could ramble on for days about the weaponry used in Ancient Atromitos, she couldn’t bring herself to talk about her past. This left Dread’s knowledge of Estrid hazy. As if a piece of his mind was locked in a cage by a sentinel that forbade him to unlock it and find the truth. He could only gaze into the translucent walls.

Dread did know a lot about Ancient Atromitan weaponry, though.

Dread sat down on a desk in the corner. Estrid paced back and forth around the room. Eventually she began to file through a shelf of books and assorted papers. Her motions were rushed and reckless, knocking over quills and papers as she moved.

A wave of discomfort washed over Dread. He felt Estrid s fear and anger. For a moment he felt overwhelmed by uncertainty.

This was an ability of the Hallows. They could judge other’s fears. This was supposed to be an advantage to the Hallows. To be able to discern a weakness of an opponent could be an ultimate gift, or a curse, if you couldn’t control the feeling. For Hallows also underwent the psychological torture of the fear.

As Dread came to a relaxed state, and the seemingly unceasing ache in his mind began to relent, he noticed that Estrid relocated a scroll from its dusty spot at the back of a bookcase onto a wooden table.

Dread walked over to the table as Estrid was unrolling the scroll. Dread recognized the picture on the parchment to be a map of Atromitos. Estrid moved her finger over the archaic and brittle scroll until it stopped on a single point marked by the ink of a quill. The ink read the words: The Spires of Mortal.

This was their destination. The next location on the map that Dread caught out of the corner of his eye was adjacent to the Spires. The Forest of Zoticus, as marked on the map, was a place Dread was more familiar with. They had to travel through this forest.

“Erebus’ vigilante will be anticipating our arrival. That soulless scum of a man Phrix could destroy us. He waits patiently to satisfy his bloodlust. We have to stop the Monarch’s inhumane scheme. Are you prepared to venture through the forest of even with the knowledge that an assassin is eagerly anticipating his target?”

Without answering the question, Estrid walked to the edge of the table and lifted up a knife with strange markings. After staring at it intently for a moment she sheathed it in her pocket.

Estrid opened the door that led to the outside world and the two stepped out.

Dread did not require an answer to his previous question. He knew despite some of her self-centered traits, she would do anything to save Atromitos.

From here they would proceed to their destination.

Now Dread started to think. What possibly in the seemingly mundane Atromitos could lead a man to this moment? He was about to risk his life to save a world that had done nothing but be cruel to him, that cast him out from society and leave to fend for himself. Why? Why must he be the man to sacrifice himself for all other living beings?

Dread knew the answer, but he hated to admit it. The answer had plagued him all his life. It was a shadow hanging over him everywhere he traveled. And no matter how far he ran or where he hid, without fail, it would always find him.

Because he was a Hallow. That’s why.

But being what he is did have some merits. Hallows have an ability that allows them to recall and almost mentally relive their memories. This was the only ability Dread had that ever used. He was constantly trying to grapes the situation he was in, and he always wanted to know what he could do to improve upon his actions if that ever happened again. He did this so that he could overcome any memory. No matter how heart wrenching it was. He would never let a memory haunt him.

What better time to make use of this ability than The Eve of Reckoning.

Dread wanted to know what happened today. Because Dread had a suspicion tonight he would mark his place in history.

Now that Estrid had a knife and they were running to the Forest of Zoticus, he could relax for a moment and centre his thoughts.

Dread slowed his heartbeat and allowed his pace to slow along with it. His head became clouded and mind was split in two, partially controlling his memory, partially keeping him running.

Dread felt his consciousness fully return. The first thing he saw himself leaving his small bungalow on the outskirts of Eos, the capital of Atromitos.

Next he saw the concrete walls of the Atromitan Training Facility at the edge of the city. He envisioned the swords that he had practiced with lying on the training mat.

This was routine for Kyros Dread. He and his friend Cadman sharpened their combat skills here.

Dread pictured Cadman’s coat hanging up on the rack in the foyer. He remembered the badge that was pinned to it that signified Cadman’s job as a representative to the Atromitan Government.

Cadman traveled to distant cities in Atromitos arranging armistices and peace agreements in attempt to keep the any frets that could disturb the peace at bay. This was a decision made by the Monarch, and he was so far was successful. He often talked about his travels to other lands.

But he said nothing of The Eve of Reckoning though, and Dread was not quick to mention it. Because Cadman was not in the slightest bit aware of Dread’s identity as a Hallow. He was keen on keeping it hidden from a government member.

Even though they were friends, Hallows were considered dishonorable, and Dread needed the respect of a friend.

Not many people did talk about The Eve of Reckoning or the Hallows. It was unimportant to most.

Just how the government wanted it. The government did not want anyone to think of how they used to be responsible for the oppression of the Atromitans until the Hallows liberated them.

As Dread walked out of the facility he was approached by two men dressed in suits. Dread could hear the muttering of a few other men waiting in the car the man stepped out of. He believed he heard the words “Hallow” and “other realm” and end”.

The men seized hold of his arms. As Dread struggled to break free of their gaze they led him into a motorized vehicle.

Once he was in the car drove along the streets of Eos. Cars were rarely used in Eos. Nobody had need for them other than the government.

Out of the window of the vehicle Dread viewed a cyclopean edifice. A tower surmounted all the other buildings in Atromitos. It overlooked the city with an almighty impression.

Dread knew where he was going now. The car was driving to the Citadel of the Monarch. He was summoned by Erebus Marrow.

Erebus Marrow was the Monarch of Atromitos. He governed Eos with an iron fist.

Atromitos was a democracy, or at least it was supposed to be. Even the election of the Monarch fell to the Council of Eos. They chose who they believed to be to most intelligent member.

When the Hallows ruled they kept all Atromitans equal. The times had changed now, and Erebus would do anything for power.

The title of the Monarch stayed though. It was passed down from old times.

Erebus Marrow was the most corrupt Monarch Dread have ever met. And Dread would know, as the two used to be close friends. Erebus trained Dread as a soldier when he was younger, and Erebus was the only one other than Estrid who knew that Dread was a Hallow.

Most Monarchs had two simple rules. Both were obvious. The first was well known. The second: unspoken. The rules, as Dread knew them, were:

1: Obey the Monarch

2: Do not question the legitimacy of the Monarch.

Everyone obeyed these rules. Some out of respect, others out of fear.

Did you enjoy it? Let me know what you think will happen next. I will post Part 3 shortly.

-D.K. Phoenix

© D.K. Phoenix and dkphoenix, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to D.K. Phoenix and dkphoenix with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Lore of Dread-Part 1

This is the first part of a fantasy short story I wrote. It is about the plight of one man in particular during the most fateful day of his life. It is rather long so I will post it in several parts.

                               D. K. Phoenix                     

             Lore of Dread

Lightning cracked in the pitch black sky. The sound of footsteps on a rocky cement path was drowned out by the heavy crash of rainfall. The path appeared as if it was scarcely used, ventured only on by old travelers and nomads.

A cluster of trees bordered either side of this path. The forest looked dull, bleak at first glance, but if one were to view it with a more inquisitive eye, they would see it was shrouded in mystery.

A man ran down the path. He had a gaunt appearance. He was tall and had pale skin. His hair was of a dark tone and it was slicked back. It looked so black it was almost camouflaged by the night, and it would be if it wasn’t for the lightning perpetually brightening up the dimly lit horizon.

The man carried a bow. Carved into the wood of the bow were the words ‘Legacy of Dread…The Hallow’. The bow belonged to the man.

This man was Kyros Dread. Dread was no ordinary man. He struggled to lead a normal life. Some say Dread was deprived, some say he was oppressed. You may say these things were true. But Dread believes he was cursed. Because Dread was a Hallow…

The tip of an arrow was silhouetted against the trunk of an oak. The arrow was tucked into Dread’s quiver. The bow was clenched tightly in his hand. It hit the hem of his black coat as he ran.

He felt a branch scrape against his side. The narrow road came to an end. Dread pushed through a barrier of dead leaves and twigs until he stepped into the woods. He kept running.

A slender figure ran in front of Dread. It was feminine in appearance. Dread knew this woman as the young Estrid Night. He could make out the shimmer of her black hair in the rain through the bracken. She was less recognisable now than ever as the gray jacket she always wore was blended into the surroundings, as if the forest wanted to keep everything inside concealed from the outside world.

Estrid had dark blue eyes that could either provide her caring warmth or her piercing glare. Often both at once.

Most of everything in the forest was long deceased or in hibernation. Winter had struck early in the Realm of Atromitos. There was no weather in Atromitos, except for this night. The sky only appeared in shades of gray during the day, and jet-black at night. Only the plants felt the seasons, dying in the winter, coming to full life in the spring.

But tonight was different. Tonight was The Eve of Reckoning. The night all Atromitans feared.

This was the eve of Dread’s ancestry. You see, the Hallows were the first people to exist in Atromitos. Everyone mortal in Atromitos was gifted with incredible physical strength and intellect. The Hallows had these abilities as well, but they were gifted with even more. They used. They used their esoteric ability to establish The Eve of Reckoning. The night when the realm begins to exude a new energy and the storm of the Hallows would strike without mercy. On this night the Hallow’s arcane powers swelled to an inscrutable strength.

Atromitos had many forest areas, or at least in the Eastern areas. In the West lied a mountainous landscape. But a lot of land was taken up by the cities Atromitan government.

What added to Dread’s already heightened apprehension was the way the moon still shined. It was the way the moonlight casted the shadows of the oak trees onto the forest floor, giving the branches humanlike appearances. Dread’s focus was momentarily diverted by a particular branch, almost briefly mistaking it for a different entity.

He could feel the rain coming down through the branches. He stepped over a fallen tree.

A shout came from Estrid up ahead. “Struck down by the lightning of Creed!” It was typical of her to notice anything related to the Hallow history.

As Dread knew himself, but Estrid constantly reminded him time after time, Creed was one of the original Hallows and was greatly responsible for the creation of The Eve of Reckoning.

Most Hallows lived their life in fear of the unimaginable power they possessed and scarcely had control of. The majority of the Hallows were lived a solitary life because of the way they were oppressed by the government. But the government feared the Hallows. This was long ago though. Now Dread was the only Hallow he knew to remain.

A cabin was hidden in the trees a few metres ahead. Estrid ran to the wooden door, Dread stopping soon behind.

Estrid pulled open the door and jolted inside rushing in Dread along with her, slamming it behind her.

The inside of this shack was most untidy. Large books with odd lettering lined the shelves. Papers were sprawled along the desks.

The cabin appeared run down, with mild rot along the corners.

This was not the first time Dread had been here. The hut belonged to Estrid. They came here often to study Hallow lore.

Estrid conducted her research in Atromitan history, philosophy and folklore here. She was called a fanatic by many, not that many knew her, but she preferred to call herself a historian.

And Dread knew she was the one to help him on his quest. She more about the Hallow Legacy than anyone he knew. Well, other than the Monarch…

  

What did you think? The next part will be up soon.

~D.K. Phoenix

© D.K. Phoenix and dkphoenix, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to D.K. Phoenix and dkphoenix with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.