Chapter 1
It grew, it grew in strength each day.
That which was lost, had all but lingered.
And that which was thought destroyed,
Was merely hidden in the shadows.
Deep. Deep in the crevices of the unseen places,
In the hidden recesses of the earth.
The darkness, had endured.
It had endured from its near fatal wound,
And it manifested itself in the place where men dare not seek.
That which no eye would seek, nor any ear would hear tales of,
It lingered and bided it’s time.
Many times and seasons had past,
Many years since the shadow had been seen.
And so it waited, patiently, silently.
Deep within the rock of the forbidden mountain,
In the farthest depths of the coldest places in the north most part of the world.
Only there would it reveal itself, and it’s coming would be all but nigh,
Only there in the realm of coldened ice...
Only there, where the shadows lie…
...
The measure of a man’s character is not if they have or have not weathered the storm, but rather, has their character been preserved, their quality intact, and their desire to do what is right, not only been maintained, but has grown all the more. Storms come and go. Wars are waged, and even thieves can attempt to endure and thrive through the plunder ransacked in the midst of panic. A house does not stand without a strong foundation based on a strong pillar to maintain it. So the measure of a person’s quality is not if they have endured the downpour of the rain, but if their integrity and quality has not decayed throughout the defiance of the storm. The heart, is a curious thing. The desires that flow from it, the thoughts and ideas that spur from it, and the motivation to pursue anything that inspires it. The measure of a man’s heart is defined in the middle of conflict and how he remains steadfast and upright in it, not whether he does or does not survive and thrives through it.
...
“It was a time of prosperity, and peace. The skies were all the clearer and the sun shined brightly upon the land. In the continent of Morganoth, there were four kingdoms that resided.
Four kingdoms each in the direction of the four winds,
Four kingdoms and the territories in which they reside,
Four kingdoms of mortal men who were bound to die,
One darkness, beyond the realm of the northern kingdom,
Four kingdoms who would be plunged into chaos,
Where blood would flow and the innocent would cry,
The abominations from the curse of those who linger in the realm of the damned,
In the darkness in the realm of the north, only there, where the shadows lie…
During the formation and establishment of the four kingdoms, there was an atmosphere of peace and prosperity. Trade routes were filled with merry travelers going to and fro between the realms, trading and bartering, making their portion from many different journeys. Inevitably, there came a time when the four kingdoms agreed upon peace terms, and the future seemed all the brighter. But then, the king in the north fell due to an unusual illness, and his son, an arrogant prince, came to power and inherited the throne. The Prince had an aspiration for power, and sought dominance over the four kingdoms. And so, in his bloodlust, he began to thirst for power, and his desire for dominance no matter how violent his actions, how malicious his intent, or how cruel and many his deeds would be, was something that could never be satisfied.
And so, the prince did the unthinkable. Legends of an ancient evil lingering in the frozen land of the north. A dragon, that held unfathomable power in the freezing fortress of the northern arctic wastelands. The Prince, in his desire for power and dominance, sought out the shadows that lingered in the north. Willing to pay any price and willing to give anything for what the prize he coveted, he made a blood pact with the dragon. And so, the Prince, Prince William Achlys, firstborn to the King in the north and heir to his father’s throne ceased to be William Achyls, and became, King Dracul, Son of the dragon.
King Dracul was given an unnatural immortal life, but at a price, his life was sustained by the drinking of human blood. All that was bitten was arisen as a child of the damned, doomed to the darkness to where their new master had dominion. And at a price, no pulse was found in their heart, and no emotion could stir even the slightest thought of remorse. Such was the price to pay for those lived in death, and had no heart...
Dracul continued to rampage throughout the nights where the scorching rays of the sun were not present within the sky, and like an infection that plagued throughout his kingdom, the north eventually became the dominion of vampires. Whispers were heard through every other corner of the other three kingdoms. 'Has the northern kingdom given into the darkness? To Damnation?' The phrase was mentioned throughout the kingdoms.
Until the day came when King Dracul had amassed a legion of vampires, and came as a scourge to the realms of the living. Day by day, night by night, nearby villages fell to the power of the damned, as they continued in their insatiable bloodlust to consume all that was alive. As the weeks went by, hope seemed to dwindle for the kingdoms, and the will to fight seemed all but quenched. But then, a man arose from the darkness and took up the fight against the brood of the damned.
A legend arose amongst the people. A man whose hatred for the undead was as ruthless as his methods to slaughter them, he had vowed to kill every last vampire until he drew his last breath. Neither dwelling in the light, nor linger in the dark. Neither walking amongst the living, nor lingering with the brood of the damned. Neither light nor dark, living nor dead, but merely being, existing, he took up the fight against the armies of the dead and one by one, slaughtered them until they were forced to retreat. Until King Dracul arose to challenge him, and the hunter relayed a decisive blow to him in the process. From that day forward, when King Dracul was cast down, the hunter was known by no other name, but by a title.
A man whose title is still muttered to this day by that title. A title, even the remnant of the damned still are terrified to this day. For he who slayed the son of the dragon, was declared on that day, the Dragonslayer.
And so that man awaits the day, waiting for the moment when vampires return and he will finish what he started!” A voice declared within the inn. The sound of man scoffing was heard with a large spit across the inn. “Oh aye! I’m sure the Dragonslayer is still alive and kicking, eagerly waiting the day when he will be forced into action! HA! The vampires are extinct, the damned are slain, and the three remaining kingdoms are never going to have to deal with that ancient evil! No one’s going to see vampires again! No one has in the past fifteen years! Darion, you’re just telling a legend, a myth! We’re never going to see those beasts again!” a Man scoffed. Aye’s filled the inn as the candle light seemed to dim from the scoffing of fools. “Aye! Thomas! You spit in mah inn! Are you going to be cleaning me inn by mopping the floors and wiping down the chairs, or are ye going to be paying me gold for my workers to clean up this place?” The innkeeper shrieked. “Oh, calm yourself, lassy! Ole Bessy could use a bit a coin now, could she?” Thomas mocked.
“This right here, is an inn, not a pigsty! You be showing some proper respect to the property, or ye be cast out like the swine and dogs ye are! I mean it boys, I mean it! I love ya to death with all me heart, but I ain’t here to be playing mother with you boys! Grown men ought to act like proper grown men!” Old Bessy rebuked as the drunkards scoffed and laughed her down. “Aye! I’m sure you could use a proper grown man at your age! You haven’t even born children, and ye be talking about playing mother! HA! Alright, here’s your pay and I’m going up to my room!” Thomas declared. The sound of change jingling from the table at the smack of his hand sounded off as he dragged his arm off the table and stumbled his way up the stairs and into his room.
A man hidden in the corner of the room veiled by a cloak and suited with metal armor and a sword on his side with a bow sheathed on his back sighed at the scoffing as he slammed his drink onto the table. “How ironic that grown men act more like petulant adolescent children, then become disciplined and civilized members of society. After I fought so hard to maintain peace within our lands, a bit of discipline would do them well,” the Armored figure muttered under his breath. “And yet, you continue to linger amidst neutrality, choosing neither light nor dark, life nor death, but prefer delaying the inevitable for the choice at hand. You cannot continue to linger between light and dark, life and death, salvation or damnation. Eventually, you must choose! The war between light and darkness is not something to be toying with by the choice of neutrality. Eventually, you must make a choice!” an old withered man with a long grey beard, cloaked in a white robe reinforced. The man in armor sighed. “Don’t remind me,” He rebuked sharply as he escorted himself away from the corner. “Don’t walk away from me son! I know how much you pride yourself in your own capabilities, but the sins of omission will inevitably catch up to you! How much more innocent blood has to be shed before you make the choice to repent? I know in your heart you are upset about the outcome of what was, but do not let your bitterness and resentment consume you! The Eternal’s calling is upon you, and you cannot delay!” the Old Man reinforced all the more.
The armored man turned his head sharply, and his eyes looked at the Old Man shrewdly. “Ever since the day it all happened, ever since the day that… Never mind. Ever since that day of tragedy, I have sworn to defend the living from the dead and the damned! Ever since that day, my life has been dedicated to the sole purpose of protecting the living, from the beasts that prey against those who have hope, because those who feast upon the blood of the living have none! How much more do I have to give, before he is satisfied? How much more do I have to work and endure, before my sins are atoned for? How much? What more do I have to do?” the Armored Man demanded to know. The Old Man shed a tear in his eye, and wept bitterly. “Your mistake, is that you can work or earn your eternal salvation. Your mistake is that you put more value on your many exceptional qualities and skills, and your application of them for the betterment of mankind, and think that you can do enough. My son, do you not understand? There is nothing you can do to satisfy that debt. Salvation is not earned, it is given as a gift. I pray that one day you would understand this, and understand what it means to gain that which you could never earn. You have a choice to make. I pray, in time, whatever the cost may be, that you would see it, hear it, feel understand it, and finally make your choice. You cannot pay the debt you seek to satisfy, it is too much for you, for any of us. No matter how exceptional you may be in all things, it will never be enough, my son. You will understand this, one day,” The Old man declared.
The armored man stood still for a moment, but then walked out of the inn. The Armored man gazed out as the sun set in the west, his heart fluttering as he observed the daylight fading. “Despite all the blood that’s been shed, and the innocent lives that have been protected, it seems nothing I have done will appease such wrath. Regardless, the daylight’s fading. It would be wise for me to not linger out here much longer. Night is coming,” the Armored man noted. He turned his boots and walked into the inn, the thoughts of eternity lingering on his mind. “How can I receive something I haven’t even earned? I’ve always paid off my debts. How can I live with paying off a debt I can’t even begin to fathom? How can I even repay such a cost?” the Armored man thought to himself.
…
The swarm of flying bats fluttered under the night sky, as the forest was filled with the howling call of the wolf. The moon was at its fullest formation, and the wind seemed chilling and eerie. The stars aligned in the heavens, and the leaves seemed to release a constant scent in the atmosphere. As if something was constantly lurking between the flora, hidden in the bushes, lingering amidst the branches of the trees. Two figures appeared on the ground level, their black cloaks lingering amidst the breeze as it passed by them. Their skin both pale, almost ghostly. Their appearances were both fair and enticing, but their demeanor was cold and shrewd. Neither emotion nor compassion, but a cold, calculated shrewdness seemed to define their look. “So, what news from the southern front?” the male asked. The female lifted her right hand, and adjusted her arm cuff link. “Neither any sightings nor any words of the Dragonslayers location. Merely the telling of tales and myths. However, a scent that still lingers almost everywhere. It’s much fainter in some places than others. It seems as if he could either be anywhere, or everywhere,” the Female hinted. The male chuckled. “Or he travels often. If the scent is stronger in certain places, that must mean he’s closer than you think. Follow the trails where the scent is the strongest, then hunt him down until he is destroyed. Utilize the local townsfolk for direction and terrorize them if need be, to get any information on strange wandering travelers. The Master wants him dead before he makes his appearance once more. Only when the Dragonslayer is dealt with, will he approach from the north, and his coming will be all but nigh. Only there, where the shadows lie. We keep moving,” The Male instructed. The Female nodded, as they both vanished into the wind.
…
The night was young, but no less eerie. The constant chattering of other beasts constantly roaming throughout the night. The bushes skittering to make the weary hearted fret more so, but the unknown was still a constant pest lingering in the hearts of travelers. A carriage being carried by two horses carrying goods and items between towns raced down the dirt road in the middle of the forest. “Hyah, Hyah!” the coachmen ordered as the steeds rushed forward in the dark of the night. The sound of constant snoring continued within the carriage, as a young woman stared at the carelessness of the old man she shared a portion with on their journey.
The young woman flowing with blonde hair and dressed in a corset gazed shrewdly at the old man. “Father, shouldn’t we be concerned about what’s out there and not just falling fast asleep carelessly? Shouldn’t we be worried about the monsters that linger in the dark?” the Young Woman inquired. The Father peeped an eye open, and began to yawn as he awoke from the realm of slumber. “The vampires haven’t been seen in years, and I don’t think we will have to deal with them now. Be at ease and at peace, dearest daughter! The night holds no terrors for us tonight! Rest well, and get some shut eye, Penelope, for we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow!” the Father instructed. Penelope released a sigh, as she gazed out into the night “You would think my father, being the business man he is, would be more prudent in his decisions. We shouldn’t be taking a risk by sleeping during a time like this,” Penelope reflected in her heart.
…
The Armored Man rode his steed alongside the old man as they went swiftly down the forest. The night was young, but they remained ever alert. Ever alert, self-controlled, and of a sober mind, lest their adversary send his minions against them. The Armored Man felt something unnatural lurking near the forest. Something lingering in the covering of trees. He brought his steed to a halt, as the Old Man instinctively brought his to heed as well. “What is it?” the Old Man asked with a deep voice. A brief, still, nerve-wracking moment of silence. “They’re here. The enemy is here. All around us, lurking amongst us, circling against us. Be at the ready,” the Armored Man declared. The Old Man placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword, waiting for the pounce. The Armored Man looked around once. “There,” the Armored Man stated. He withdrew a silver throwing dagger from his chest, and threw it into the leaves of a tree. The sound of a monstrous scream roaring in agony as the corpse fell from the trees and began to rot. The flesh began to melt as the bones began to fade into the dust from whence they came. “It’s the Dragonslayer! Kill him! Surround him! Kill him now! For King Dracul!” a shrieking voice in the forest ordered. The Dragonslayer turned his head upwards to find three vampires in the air waiting to pounce upon him. Two silver daggers were tossed into the air, as the two corpses began to fade as the prior had, with the Dragonslayer withdrawing his hybrid sword, the metal slashing the flesh of the other remaining vampire as he shrieked and rotted away! “These drones have always been easy to beat. They have immense speed, but their movements are predictable,” The Dragonslayer noted. The Old Man sliced a drone and tilted his head. “Stay sharp! There may be more inbound!” the Old Man declared.
The night grew silent, as the woodlands lingered on. Neither sound nor movement seemed apparent, yet the atmosphere was all the more intense. The screams of a woman further west down the road shot into the air. “Move, now! Hyah!” the Dragonslayer ordered. The Old Man went with him.
