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 4

                                                                                      Part 4

The long-awaited Part 4 of Lore of Dread!  Could Erebus’ scheme mean the end of Atromitos? When Dread’s loyalties become questioned, he must decide between safety and honor.

Dread’s anger swelled to what seemed to be a point of no return. His mind was clouded with confusion and frustration.

“I will never lower myself to help a fool like you. Leave the human world untouched. Do not tarnish the name of Creed with the blood of the innocent.”

Just at that exact moment Dread felt a rush of fear strike its way into him. He sensed the fear of the Monarch. In his mind he saw what Erebus feared.

He saw himself.

He saw himself and all the other Hallows that preceded him standing in union, representing solidarity.  Behind them were the citizens of Atromitos lined up standing stoic.

Now he knew Erebus Marrow’s only fear: Erebus feared anyone who could oppose him.

This gave Dread the answer to his earlier question. He was the only one who was in this situation because he was the only man in this realm who refused to fear the Monarch.

Erebus spoke again; this time he made no attempt to mask his passion. “Allow me to re-word my question Kyros: will you obey my command, or die by the blade of your ancestor?”

Erebus raised his sword and approached Dread menacingly. The way the setting sun shined into the window gave Erebus a brooding appearance.

“And just so you don’t intend to escape and try your futile effort to stop me, I should inform you that I have convinced Phrix to guard the Spires. I assume you’re familiar with his work, yes?”

Dread nodded slowly in response.

“He seemed to be quite keen on my ideals. I must say, he is much more agreeable than you.”

Phrix, the name struck down whatever courage Dread had maintained. Phrix had a reputation that represented all that is dark in Atromitos. Phrix was infamous in Atromitos for being a vigilante with his own corrupt ideals. He would exterminate anyone who didn’t agree with him and would create gangs to serve him. Some say he was dogmatic, some say he was a terrorist, some say he was a freedom fighter.

Many people formulated ideas that Phrix conspired with the government to eliminate specific suspects for crimes. This was never proven, the government would never lower themselves to work with such a cruel man, would they?

Clearly they would.

Phrix specialized in killing Hallows though, and was greatly responsible for the rapid decline in the Hallow population over the last few decades. He killed Hallows like they were animals. They were endangered like animals. They meant nothing to anyone.

“So what is your decision than?” Life and honor, or death?” The words came out of Erebus’ mouth quickly and hit Dread painfully with a sudden impact, like the sting of a bee.

A rush of adrenaline jolted through Dread’s body. Without thinking, he lunged himself into the belly of the beast, and knocked Erebus to the ground as he clung to the sword. As Dread tried to regain his balance, he felt Erebus’ blade skin his side. Not with enough strength to inflict damage, but enough to inflict pain.

Dread had no choice left. He could not stay after attacking the Monarch. He would be tortured, possibly murdered, or worse, enslaved. Crimes against a Monarch, no matter how heinous the Monarch was, did not go unpunished.

And he could not wait and watch Erebus carry out his nefarious scheme. He must act now.

Dread bolted out of the room through a different entrance at the back of the room as the Monarch was still on the ground. He traveled down a winding staircase he came to a metal door. Dread pushed the door open and an alarm began to sound. Ignoring the incessant wail of the alarm he ran into the street the door led to.

Dread recalled the only thought he had at the time. “Foolish man, you can’t harness the power of the Hallow.”

From here Dread remembered running to Estrid’s home and telling her of the situation. He begged for help, as she was the only one who would be able and willing to show him the way to the Spires.

Estrid lent him an arrow and a bow, and they left to The Spires of Mortal…

Now Dread‘s memory ended, and all he could think of then was the assassin awaiting his next victim.

Another thought came into Dread’s mind. Did Phrix know that if he succeeded at killing Dread, the Hallow race might be completely extinct?  Dread could not allow that to happen.

As the duo finally entered The Forest of Zoticus, Dread noticed the change in the landscape around him. The Forest was unaffected by seasons. The trees around him were full of life. He wondered where his new-found love for nature came from.

Maybe it was the knowledge his end might be near…

On a normal night Dread would be able to see the nature around him. He recalled sitting down on a tree stump on a cold autumn day and watching the birds of Zoticus fly from the forest to distant parts of the realm. He would contemplate to himself anything that was on his mind, whether it would be the next journey he would make in the woods of Atromitos, or simply his hunting skills.

But tonight was not like those earlier nights long ago. There was an eerie mist encapsulating the forest. This obscured his vision dramatically, causing him to trip a couple of times as he got deeper into the forest.

Now they were nearing The Spires of Mortal. The fog was becoming thinner, and the oak trees were becoming less common.

They entered a clearing. Oaks still enveloped the glade on all sides.

Just as the mysterious feeling the glade gave him was increasing, Dread heard the snap of an arrow being released.

            The excitement is building. Will they make it to the Spires? Will Dread be able to stop the Monarch, or is his effort futile, just as the Monarch predicted it would be. Remember to like, comment, and follow. Let me know what you think!

-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.