hollow Depths An awakening

In house Blazon, where the mists rolled over the obscure peaks, raindrops pelted against the arched windows, the sky overcast with a lingering darkness with the scent of the incoming flooding. A man turned the dial on his digital camera and turns off the auto focus off and adjusted the lens, clearing the blur from the shot. By pressing the button, he captured the rolling mists, making the peaks vanish. He checked the photos he had taken that evening; he sat in the armchair, resting his back against the antique backing. The man’s lava eyes glowed against the crackling fireplace. 

An elegance rarely seen amongst the three realms lived in his home. The demons living in the Inferno realms attended; the man clicked the next picture, there were a group of marked ones, their red tattoos shimmering in the light. Against the light coulors of the evening gowns. He turned the computer on; the screen flickered to life, and adding the camera card into the slot The man went through the photos and videos he had, observing how the marked ones, interacting with the demons, a few were hostile, sharing the demons’ charred skin and horns growing out of their heads, these marked ones processed demon blood. While those marked ones sharing a blue tint to their skin, acted as mediators using their water-based magic to distract from the grown tensions, he stopped the video signing, going through the pictures and the third frame caught his eye, between the two demon leaders. Razon and Emilia, whom were the leaders of the inferno realms from the man’s encounters with them, despite being childhood friends they still had a fair amount of disagreement. But the one marked with green symbols rarely left their room. Instead of an evening grown, she was wearing the golden and red formal armour underneath was a type of nice clothing, unable to be seen clearly,

He struggled at first to remember her name. Soft footsteps approached from behind, which seemed loud this late at night. Everyone was supposed to be asleep. They touched the man’s shoulder with a firm grasp. “Shouldn’t you be asleep, bother?” His sunburnt orange skin. Blended in with his older brother’s grey hue. “I didn’t realise you’re still awake.” Markus said, his bother towered over the man. His own lava eyes scanned over the screen. He pulled up a second chair, leaving screech marks on the hardwood floor, stretching, making his muscles popped “You know that damages the floor, the man said in a frustrated tone. “Whoops, do you want some whiskey?” Markus pushed the black hair out of his eyes, pouring himself a glass of the golden liquid. He offered the man the flask. The man nodded, pouring himself a small glass.

He swirled the liquid, inhaling. “Why are you up so late and should you be consuming alcohol?” Alex asked. The man’s expression turned thoughtful. “Do you think purgatory? Is a home for the lost ones living here to break them down? The flood and the mists and the dangerous creatures. They break down the souls.” The man took a drink. “The state of our realm is constantly changing, the weather and the creatures change, the marked ones, the young guardians and even the serpent whispers, if they ever bother leaving their temple.” Markus rubbed his face.

The man observed his brother’s relaxed personality. To answer your question, I’m watching the interaction from last night Gala and I’m trying to decide who would be the next reprehensive if anything happens to me.” The man glanced at his brother, who stood watching re the screen with interest. “What about Marianne? Even from your video, she is at ease with the demon leaders. Alex smiles at his younger brother. “That is a good point. However, rumour has it she’s a recluse who paints unless assigned to work.” The man frowned, “However, she tries to foster peace between the inferno and eternal realms.” Alex pointed out. The man smirked. “I’ll give her a chance, but I know her artwork is stunning.” Alex clasped his hands together.” Artists and their artwork, the reason I nicknamed you the shrouded wind, is because of the time I turned around. You had disappeared, chasing a wasp into the woods and snapped the perfect shot before the nest fell on your head.” Alex chuckled. The man made a face. “Please stop reminding me of that story.” Rolling his eyes, he placed the whiskey on the table, his hands shaking at the reminder of the alcohol. The man stood opening one of the arched windows, the slow drizzle of rain transformed into a downpour.

Genuine change cannot happen without the demons and the angelic beings settling the differences.” Alex chuckled, “On another episode of things that will never happen, do you really think they can change their ways?” Alex asked. His expression turned thoughtful and tied his hair back. “I honestly don’t know. Most of them are arrogant to other species, except the Serpent Whispers. They wouldn’t want them restricting the Eternal realms to their myths.” The man said. He stood, “Have you met Marianne?” Alex added another log to the fireplace. The man smirked. “We have spoken briefly, but she doesn’t say much.” Alex finished his whiskey and went to grab the man’s. “Don’t want it?” The man shrugged, and he headed down the stairs, walking through the ballroom, his boots tapping on the marble floor. The ballroom held a large cream pillar made of sturdy stone. When music played, the tones echoed throughout the room, the lighting was good even with the chandeliers going dim. He could still make out the long curtains that ruffled with the winds. He left through the doorway. The man pulled the double doors open at the end of the hallway. He walked through the darkened hallway and the moonlight providing little light. The man checked the artist’s group. Most of these marked ones had blue or earthy tones from their young guardian’s blood. They were chatting and laughing while painting a model in the room, but Marianne seemed absent from the class. As his lava eyes scanned the group, he pushed himself off the wall and continued to the second floor.

They provided private rooms for some of the marked sleepers and added extensions where others preferred to share sleeping quarters. With the growing numbers of marked ones appearing in the realm, their actual origins were mysterious. He stopped by his room, grabbing a bag he packed a few nights ago containing survival gear and plenty of rope and a stealth field generator, a circle device and which attaches to the skin, and makes one move around unseen once activated, he placed it into the pocket of his bag; the man closed the door heading to the room at the end of the hallway. He knocked and waited, pushing the bag out of sight, not wanting to cause a panic for anyone waking up at night. Movement echoed around the room as if things were being moved around. The latch clicked, and the door slid open. A sightly curved girl peaked out. She was rather tall, standing just above him at five - seven, while he was five - three himself. Her short black hair had reminded the man of midnight. Her peering icy blue eye and violet eye always striking, “Oh, leader, what brings you here tonight?” she stepped aside. She was wearing a thin black top and shorts. The man stepped inside and was looking around. Fairy light glowed where a black canvas sat on the easel, with a row of paints next to her brushes. And clean, wooden palette-coloured pictures of the realm animals lined the room. Their glowing eyes stared at him through the canvas. She had patches of dried paint on her ghostly pale skin. Marianne grabbed her pencils, sketching on the canvas, working on her newest artwork.

“Why haven’t you joined the art group?” He asked curiously. “There constant chatter is so annoying. I honestly like painting when it’s quiet, because I enter a deep state of focus.” Marianne said. She went back to painting an outline of a person who was standing to the right. The man sighed, breaking the silence. Marianne glanced up at him before putting her paintbrush in the water, turning the water crimson red. Her pale skin took on the coulor of the crackling fire. “I actually came to make you an offer.” Marianne stared at him in surprise. “Oh?”

He cleared his throat as if it suddenly went dry. Marianne clasped her hands together, her attention now completely on him. “Tensions are rising between the demon and the eternal beings and I have an assignment with the Shade wolves in the coming weeks.” “What I am asking is can you act as a repressive until I return?” the shrouded man asked. Marianne tilted her head, her midnight black hair failing into her eyes. “Aren’t there older members qualified?” she asked. “Normally, but they haven’t returned from their assignments yet, but I have faith in your abilities you have negotiated on my behalf before. “Only with your guidance,” she tapped her chin hesitantly. “But often when I have let you take the lead, you have shown the capabilities of a leader,” the man grabbed her soft hand, detecting the faint scent of berries, “I’m leaving in a few days is that enough time to decide?” Marianne glanced away, unable to maintain eye contact before nodding, “I’ll think about it, leader.” She said, she turned her ear to a distant sound. Another loud crash echoed from the ballroom. Without another word, both Marianne and the man sprinted into the room. They moved with supernatural speed, the sounds of a vase smashing against the floor. As they stared at the shards, the doors slid shut behind them, as two masked beings jumped down from the pillars above, their eyes glowing with power beneath their masks. They glanced between the two intruders and the sounds of fighting came from the overlook with the flash of a camera. Marianne faced one of the masked people, back-to-back with her leader, an orb of light extending from her hand. A sword of light appeared in the shrouded man’s hand, while a staff appeared in Marianne’s hand. She held the staff in thirds with her domain hands palm facing upwards. She sifted into a long front stance. Marianne moved swiftly, using an overhead block so the intruder’s sword. She opened her palms in the next second to prevent them from being sliced. She then switched to a crosscut strike and slid the bo back and moved the bo staff across her body and bring it up, smashing the intruder in the jaw. They cried out through their mask and stagger backwards, The man parried his sword, swinging it diagonally across the intruder’s slashing their protective clothing. He then twisted his body and around and thrusted the sword into their chest. They fell to the ground, their sword impacting with the ground lying a couple of meters from the body.

Marianne stepped up to the other intruder. Avoiding the thrusting blade. She inhaled and stuck downwards with her bo staff aiming for their knee; she switched tactics and curled her wrist and untwined her body, hitting the intruder with a bo thrust. The bo staff impacted with their head, knocking them out. She changed to a narrow stance, watching them and listening for sights of movement with a focused intensity and listening for others who were lurking around. The shrouded man made his sword disappear. He touched Marianne on the shoulder and they stiffened underneath his hand; she snapped out of her alert state. “It’s alright, I doubt anyone else is coming.” He rushed up the staircase to check on his brother Markus, who was crouched down examining the dead body, while blood stained the maple floors around him. “Are you alright? The man asked, concerned about the bleeding arm. Markus shrugged it off.

He removed the mask, making sure not to rip the skin off. He stared, shocked, at whom was before them. Judging from the cream and brown armour, they realised the intruders shared the same orange and red tones shared with the demons and were part of the royal army. “Are they trying to declare war against us?” Markus scratched his head puzzled and nodded in silent agreement. “Are you ready to start an inner conflict with Razon? I mean, we have kept an uneasy peace with the demons.” Markus pointed out, the man glanced at the dead body, which turned to ashes with a gloved hand, “Who else would have ordered an attack on our home directly?” the man paced, clenching his fists “Marianne joined them on the overlook the bodies faded in a sea of Ashes. “Leader, you don’t know if Razon ordered the hit or who the target was.” “Throwing accusations around will only hinder the trust between the marked ones and other species. We need to be smart and move in the shadows.” Markus said.

“Alright bother, we will try it your way.” The man reluctantly agreed, checking his camera and examining the new photographs. Marianne returned to her room. She grabbed a rag and cleaned her bo staff with salt water and rubbing it with a cloth before returning the weapon to the leather case. She entered the room that led off to her art studio.

This was where spices and plants for her side job, she treated and crated poisons and healing remedies; she had written the missing plants missing from her makeshift greenhouse; the room was humid despite the ventilation. It surprised her that even souls being in purgatory were suspectable to poisons either by animals or plants. The wasteland contained carnivorous plants that sickness could not kill. The poisons caused their spirt energy to drain rapidly and eventually the soul faded out of existence.

*****

Marianne slept remembering a burning sensation and the smell of burning bodies. She awoke in a cold sweat; the nightmares plagued her since she arrived. Marianne drank a glowing royal blue potion, which she made of Moonglow mushrooms to calm the pounding in her head. She had extracted the white parts of the mushroom and infused the cuttings into a lavender tea. The taste was a mixture of salty and sweet, a hollow emptiness sat in her non beating heart. Technically, souls weren’t even alive. They had thoughts, feelings and memories, but when their energy drained, they became transparent and, if they were reckless, they would fade out of existence.

The wells provided them with a food source, other than the wells living energy freely given would sustain them. Their peacekeeping role put them in dangerous situations. The smell of ashes invaded her nose as an envelope dropped onto her bed. She glanced towards the celling it was an assignment from the massive black centipede. Its legs scattered across the ceiling and the antenna felt the air around the room. Its bite was venomous. The creature vanished, scurrying out of her doorframe with exceptional speed. Marianne opened the envelope. It was a formal request to meet with the Serpent Whispers; they translated myths and legends and understand prophies and by the sounds of the letter. This was urgent.

Dear Marianne We formally request you to come to the scale temple. As a marked one, you have the responsibility to prevent future threats. Our high Prest will wait for you at the cleansing pool at midnight.