•Light fae- They are mythical beings with white wings, enchanting beauty and have the ability to feed on human emotions. They are counter parts of dark fae, unlike dark faes they follow a strict set of rules. (Kingdom-Yodam)
•Dark fae- Dark Fae are magical long-lived beings, so-called immortals. The Dark Fae are slender, have long elegantly pointed ears, are naturally pale. Unlike light faes they do not have any hesitation in feeding off human emotions even as a sport. Shrouded in dark minds, they can be ruthless and have human slaves as their play toy. (Kingdom- Zohgorym)
•Dragons- Dragon, in the mythologies, legends, and folktales of various cultures, a large lizard- or serpent-like creature with the ability to breathe fire.
•Demons- A demon is a supernatural entity, typically associated with evil.
•Elves- Elves generally seem to have been thought of as beings with magical powers and supernatural beauty, ambivalent towards everyday people and capable of either helping or hindering them.
•Pixies- They are tiny elflike spirit or mischievous fairy who dances in the moonlight to the music of frogs and crickets. Its favourite pastimes are leading travelers astray and frightening young maidens.
•Druids- Druid, member of the learned class among the ancient Celts. They acted as priests, teachers, and judges.
•Witches/Warlocks- Witches in the mythological sense of the term, are female practitioners of magical arts activated by association with supernatural powers. Their male counterpart would be a warlock.
•Bloodsuckers/Vampires- Vampire, also spelled vampyre, in popular legend, a creature, often fanged, that preys upon humans, generally by consuming their blood.
•Werewolves- In folklore, a werewolf, or occasionally lycanthrope, is a human with the ability to shapeshift into a wolf, either purposely or after being placed under a curse.
•Cerberus- In Greek mythology, Cerberus, often referred to as the hound of Hades, is a multi-headed dog that guards the gates of the Underworld to prevent the dead from leaving.
•Mávros Thánatos- Black death. It’s a book of hell, the spells of which has the power to liberate or destroy Hades and Hell. (Fiction)
The characters and their depiction may vary from the actual mythology. This is a fiction book meant for entertainment purposes. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Secondly, this book contains: torture, violence, lots of blood and gore, and mature adult scenes. If any of this is a trigger to you, please.. Read at your own risk. And do forgive the grammatical errors, it is the unedited version.
With a loud scream she jumped, momentarily dislodging herself in the air and using the momentum to tear into it’s gray back with her sword. Shrieking, it rolled onto the ground before coming up on all fours shivering and stretching, it’s spiked hunch back oozing smelly tar where her sword tore into. A ghoul. A round hole for a mouth filled with rotten spikes screamed bloody murder before charging at her. Swirling her sword up into position, her lips tipped up. “You are dead already.”
She swung her sword tearing into it’s torso as she thwarted it’s long sharp nails that would have disemboweled her like a piece of butter. Like a flying monkey it latched onto a tree, gracelessly jumping from tree to tree as she narrowed her eyes on the target. “You dumb monster. Your last wish is to pole dance on the trees?”
With a cry it jumped onto her, its black void for eyes going wide for a moment and then slumped onto the floor. Dead.
“I told you are dead already.” She grunted as she pulled her sword where it impaled it’s heart. She watched with loathing as the stinking demon’s body disintegrated into ashes and seeped into the soil.
No normal sword could kill a ghoul that easily unless they’re beheaded or their rotten ball of a heart is torn off. She raised her sword cover in traces of ashes. “We did good today. Didn’t we, volor?” The sword gleamed red.
As long as a Viking sword, her 'volor' screamed nothing ordinary. The pommel of the sword was a carved into a budding tulip as it's base. Gold and red grip spiralled to give rise to strong wings spread wide into a hilt. The length of the double edged sword was decorated with bright, sharp, small red zircons at the centre along it’s length. When used with precise knowledge, Red zircons helped in healing most dire physical wounds but of course there were consequences for that. And the true stones were precious, which furthur added volor's value.
As valuable as volor might be to someone, it was more than that for her. Volor was a part of her. So was Valerie. With that thought, the massive black wings popped from her back. The pointed silver shaft extended where as its vane ended halfway. The bottom set of feathers of her wings had their sharp silver shaft much longer and curved outwards as ruthless poisoned blades. At one look, her wings looked like a spiked armor protruding from her back, so no one dared to backstab her. She snorted at the irony of it.
Valerie always got her back. Even thick swords couldn't cut through her. Just as her poisoned hatred grew inside her for two centuries, so did volor and Valerie grew in strength. But two centuries before or later, at the end of the day only they were there to witness the miserable end of her life.
She, volor and valerie were one soul. None exists without each other. Come what may, she'll never trade any part of her soul for the ordinary.
“Let’s go, lassie.” Valerie flapped to take off as volor dissolved into thin air. But she whipped around to the scrunching of grass, volor as sharp as ever present out of for her outstretched hands in a moment.
“Show yourself and i will show you mercy.” She called out. Her amber eyes darted from tree to tree. Flecks of red started seeping into her pupil. She tightened her hold on the sword. “Ambush and i will disembowel you!”
Except for the occasional sounds of frogs and crickets, the sudden silence of forest overwhelmed her noting for the first time how thick the forest was. The canopy barely allowed a sun’s ray or two in.
A small timid form peeked out from behind a big tree. Dressed in a shaggy white sparse dress, a curtain of blond hair fell around the girl’s face. Smears of red coated her hands and legs.
“Who are you?” She narrowed her eyes at the girls rapidly healing wounds.
“Haven.. Haveneya." The girl answered, her sea glass green eyes twinkling with an otherworldly gleam.
She pointed volor at Haveneya. "And just what are you, Haveneya?"
Surprised, she stood still for a moment. In her five hundred and seventy seven years of life she had never heard any true tales of unicorns. Even in the otherworld that was filled with demons, beasts, night hunters, wolvens, faeires and elvens, unicorn was a myth rumored to be creatures who was harmless but could never be confined or shackled. Not to say about the talk of immortality by drinking from unicorn horn though she doubted the truth in it. But given that they never ever made their identity known to anyone, it could be just that.. rumors. Hell, she didn't know they were real until now. And asking this girl about drinking from her severed horn was a bit too much even to her. Warily, she settled for, "A unicorn?"
She raised a brow "Well i didn't mean to. I thought the unicorns were just a myth?”
Haveneya just smiled instead. "I will find you to return your favour."
Before she could say anything, the girl started shifting. She watched in awe as she witnessed her limbs stretching to long white fur legs and in no time stood a small brilliant white pony with glittering white wings and a small golden horn on its forehead. Fairy dust exploded in it’s awake of flapping wings. It nodded its head at her and disappeared.
She stood baffled at the encounter and then blew out a breath. “Alright. So they actually exist." She shrugged then. "Lets go, Valerie.”
Wings flapping, she took off to the middle of nowhere in the vast expanse of forest somewhere on earth. This island was just that. Full of forest and rivers. Life was hardly extended beyond occasional wildlife.
She flew into her cramped old hut in the thick of forest made of mottled and cracked brick.
Mawa sat outside on the grass cooking something up again in her stone gas stove. She was a wrinkled old bat with white hair and still perfect teeth. Teeth was Mawa’s obsession. How a two thousand and eight hundred year old witch managed to preserve all of it was beyond her. But then.. Mawa was Mawa who wore a necklace made of teeth from the beasts she killed. The witch was unbeatable. She made the mistake of underestimating the tiny witch until she knocked her ass off the ground.
Two hundred years ago during the attack, the day Yodam almost perished, because of me, she escaped with an inch of life preserved from the godforsaken bloody cave.
Of course she wanted to kill every last hell banished demon. And Corey, the innocent lad she believed inturn killed her by betraying her love and killing her trust, leaving her for the worst.
But Mawa found her, scrawny and battered. She took her in but she didn't care to know about her new 'guardian'. She was numb to her core except for bloodlust.
But Mawa was full of wisdom and powerful magic. She picked up a few tricks from her. Mawa turned her into a ruthless killing machine, the one to strike first. She helped her understand a part of who she was, something the young rebel in her never understood. Now she could do telekinesis. At first it was hard, but then she had a few centuries to practice and now she could lift a couple of rocks by dancing her fingertips with no effort. And she could send balls of energy to strike her opponent but still it always drained her.
Besides, Volor was enough for her. Volor could cut clean through almost everything now. And Valerie worked fluidly covering her back during any attack working in sync with her, never sweeping her off balance. All three of them together were a deadly combination.
"You stink, scrawny.” That’s what Mawa called her. Scrawny. And that was just fine with her. She despised her real name and herself. The one who giveaway to the fall of a kingdom. Rovena Cerine Marionne Theistmus.
“And I will feed you maggots, scrawny!”
“Ooh, joy. I wonder how that will be different to the one you are brewing there.” She jutted her chin to a boiling pot of earthenware.
Smirking, she climbed into hut followed by a string of two thousand years worth of curses from Mawa. They always bantered, but she knew Mawa enjoyed it as much as she did.
Mawa always said that she was something more, to go figure. But she wanted to do nothing more than kill the arsehole who tore up her life. So thats what she did. Every stray demon she found, she killed. But she took her sweet time killing a stray dark fae during the rare opportunities afterall they killed her Pa and Beau without any mercy. Only god knows if Ru was still alive.
But she was a lot more powerful now. Her chest never thundered in fear anymore nor she fled. Her sword was always raised and her steps never faltered.
And just like Mawa, she no more felt any emotions except betrayal, hate and anger. Love, fear, sadness and.. Happiness? the word her name stood for was long forgotten. Trust? Its a variability eliminated from her equation. Not a single calla bloomed over two hundred years. Thus her equation was simple. Kill as much as she can before she is condemned to hell. In hell she will rule in the middle of these monsters and then.. It’s payback again.