Read Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land Online

Authors: Alex Rey

Tags: #id, #rebellion, #owls, #aphost, #biaulae, #carpla, #god of light, #immortal darkness, #leyai, #leyoht, #mocranians, #mocrano, #molar, #pesstian, #sahemawia, #ulpheir, #xemson, #yofel

Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land

BOOK: Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land
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Immortal Darkness

Book 1: Shadow Across the Land

Alex Rey

 

Published by Alexander Reynaud at
Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Alex Rey

 

Chapter I

 

The Creation of a Son

 

Yofel: ruler of the most powerful
civilization in the world; being of great power and mystery;
immortal; grandfather. Recognized as an emperor of his own land—an
immortal with the power to break rocks with his bare hands—yet
underestimated as an elder in his final days. No creature in the
world had ever held as much strength as him—but at the same time,
no creature had ever even thought to simply glimpse at his raw
power.

Royal in the eyes of the Mocranians, Yofel
wore many ornaments—the likes of which hung from his voluminous
robes. Making up for a majority of what he wore, these
red-and-purple robes contained enough silk in them to cover up a
bear completely. As a result, the majority of Mocranians were led
to believe he hadn’t any feet; who else could wear such robes
without tripping on them constantly?

Although his empire withheld great power, no
living human, plant, or animal knew about his underground world.
The servants of this king—or all in sight, to be exact—would always
come to his aid whenever trouble arose in their leader’s empire.
Their skeletal features would wash trouble away in a sea of
bone.

It was millennia before the time of Leyoht
when Yofel created his son: Carpla. The quiet—yet devious—Carpla
was often characterized as being the most cunning spirit in all of
Mocrano. Ever since he had gained the respect from his father,
Carpla took possession of many sections of Mocrano. But even then,
he still stood as a footstool to the emperor.

Having power over much of Mocrano, Carpla had
put into place an unaccountable amount of heinous laws for those
daring enough to inhale the air he walked through. Many of these
laws were abolished by the citizens; all the while, an
unaccounted-for number of rulings waited patiently to be shot
between the eyes.

With the knowledge that he could destroy
whatever dare lie in his way, no creature in the right mind wanted
to disturb Carpla on any one of his tasks. Hence this fact, any eye
peering over in Carpla’s direction would automatically switch back
to what it was doing for fear of its owner’s life.

Even with these powers present, Carpla often
sat and meditated on his own—far from the reach of Mocranian
society. Sitting on his little floating island, Carpla thought of
what he could do to contribute to the empire.

So many ideas flew through his head. All the
while, the stillness of Mocrano surrounded him—never blowing a gust
of wind his way. Everything stood still like rocks; no matter how
much the Mocranians wanted, nothing seemed to move. It really was a
dead city.

As Carpla continued sitting in his own
company, it suddenly hit him! In order for him to make the same
kinds of contributions as his father, he would have to start off by
doing what Yofel had already done for Mocrano long ago.
I need
to make my own son,
he realized.
Yes; he will be the perfect
heir to my throne! All who wish to interfere with his affairs shall
have their bones ground to dust.

But even with these thoughts in mind, Carpla
knew it would take many millennia for his new son to earn any
control over any part of Mocrano. To add to this, Carpla needed to
find the right pieces for creating a child. Carpla had to do a lot
of work before he could raise and own this imaginary son of
his.

What should I make it look like?
he
wondered, aware of the many creatures lying about in Mocrano.

What was something Carpla didn’t see very
often in Mocrano? What was rare but—at the same
time—self-defensive? What could help bring Mocrano’s enemies to
their knees?

With little time at all, Carpla came to his
decision: he wanted to create a griffin son. And as for a name?
Molar,
he thought, smiling as the name’s resonance echoed
within his head.

Molar was a name
belonging to the untouchable: the great beings unworthy to be
touched by the hands of ordinary civilians. This was
exactly
how Carpla wanted his child to feel in this kingdom under the land.
It was exactly how Molar was to be treated after he was created—but
first, Carpla had to make everybody know and respect Molar just as
well as Carpla and Yofel. To begin such a process, he first had to
find some bones—griffin bones, to be exact.

Where will I find a griffin?
Even with
all his power in hand, Carpla hadn’t any right to kill the empire’s
citizens. Instead, he had to take a visit to Earth and find a stray
griffin himself. After which he would show this Earth creature just
what Mocrano could do. The thought pulled a sigh out of him.

Nobody in the right mind could have or would
have taken on such a task alone. But solitarily slaying this beast
came off as the only thing on Carpla’s mind at this time.
Why
would I think of anything else?

After pondering these thoughts to himself,
Carpla cleared his mind and took off his heavy granite shoes—the
likes of which held him to the ground. Without anything to hold him
down, he started levitating, his ash-crafted toes barely any
distance from the gray sand below. Within a few moments, his
weightlessness would carry him to wherever he so desired.

All around Carpla, an army of floating lands
breathed their lives into Mocrano, but the one he floated above
served as a tiny island compared to many of the other enormous
behemoths surrounding it.

Peering into one of the islands, Carpla
noted,
There’s my home
, pinpointing his castle among all the
other Mocranian ornaments. As the thought lingered in his mind, he
continued pursuing his home.

As he moved closer and closer to his castle,
Carpla looked down and noticed a seemingly-bottomless pit occupying
the regions below—a pit he was sure would strike fear into the
hearts of all newcomer Mocranians. Whether this pit truly
was
bottomless or not was a mystery to all the living who
had stared into its ever-present gaze.

Accelerating faster and faster along the
road, Carpla finally made his way up to his destination. Upon
reaching the large, floating land, Carpla immediately took a sharp
turn toward his home—brushing past hundreds upon thousands of
Mocranian structures. Said structures consisted of huts, towers,
and even the average Mocranian citizen. All this and more cycled in
and out of Carpla’s gaze in the blink of an eye—all of it appearing
like a gray blob.

Travelling at such high speeds would have
obliterated anybody not used to such extremes. In Carpla’s mind,
however, the time it took to get to his home was days—days and days
of listlessness. Yet even when the time it took to make it home
seemed almost eternal, it had really been only a few
heartbeats.

After all that meditating and high-speed
action, Carpla finally made it up to his home. His eyes locked on
the castle before him, Carpla slowly stalked up a flight of stairs
and found himself in a familiar, nostalgic atmosphere.

--

Upon arriving, Carpla educated himself on
griffins and on what it took to bring them down. At the same time,
he prepared a furnace for the griffin’s arrival.

He wouldn’t achieve satisfaction until he had
everything he needed. He wanted to leave the gray desert-like city
of Mocrano sometime soon.

I have my sword
, he checked himself,
and my orbs.
He took a look down at his sword, admiring how
similar it appeared in comparison to his stole. Both had the same
eye image on them—letting all enemies know the Mocranians would
never so much as blink away
from their targets, as they
would say.

Carpla picked up a bag of netted glass orbs.
Waves and waves of purple mist lingered in these orbs—the purpose
of which very few had come to understand.

With everything in check, Carpla realized,
My son waits for me on Earth.
And without hesitation, the
father-to-be rushed through his front doors—a gust of wind
following close behind.

Hundreds upon thousands of Mocranians swept
past Carpla’s gaze once again—each of them immediately knowing who
he was at first sight, but deciding to leave him alone. Not one
single Mocranian caught Carpla’s eye; rather did he continue
pursuing his destination, a sword in his right hand and a bag of
orbs in his left.

Nothing interesting to see here
, he
sighed. The same-looking people and the similarly-crafted buildings
stood in front of him—nothing more, nothing less. It started
getting very old very fast.

Fortunately for Carpla, just a little more
distance brought him to the edge of the city: a gray desert. It was
a place nowhere near as lively as the city—nowhere near as abundant
and nowhere near as civilized. At the same time, this atmosphere—so
quiet and barren—soothed Carpla’s mind.
So relaxing.

After passing a long distance of nothing but
sand, Carpla found a large, empty cave. Taking note of the cave’s
gaping mouth, he took a step inside and took a seat in the cave’s
center. Upon doing so, Carpla set his blade and his bag on the
floor right next to him.

This cave was usually empty, and was given
the title Eas by Yofel’s servants—the carmahns—who named it after
their emperor’s home world. Little did Mocrano know, the cave
served as an artificial building. Its purpose: to transport those
inside. Anybody who sat in this cave would automatically be
transported to wherever they desired. It performed this process
continuously nonstop—whether or not anybody was in it.

After a short time, Carpla felt himself being
carried toward the Earth’s surface. Every little piece of
everything lingering in the cave soon found itself instantly ripped
apart. But Carpla did not feel the alarm of destruction—instead he
felt the excitement of seeing himself coming closer to his
goal.

A flash of light came into play—temporarily
blinding him during its short existence. Barely any time had come
to pass when Carpla took notice of his new location.

Interesting,
he thought. Mountains
surrounded him, towering above the horizon and making him yearn for
the openness he had experienced with the desert. To add to this, a
cool breeze always seemed to show up whenever Carpla thought he had
finally acquired some peace. In front of his own foot, he saw a
group of fossilized shells—which he decided to collect for future
purposes.

Looking to his right, he caught sight of a
group of humans wearing heavy winter coats made from smaller
animals’ fur. Such coats made them appear large and bulky; their
faces gave off a lighter color than most of the human faces Carpla
had witnessed in his life. Their eyes and noses were also quite
small, he noted. Most of the male humans had grown hair over the
entirety of their faces, while half their females either carried or
stood by their defenseless children.

Taking notice of Carpla, many of the humans
suddenly exploded with alarm, believing the foreign figure to be a
threat. Well over half of the male humans took out their spears and
began charging at Carpla as the others stood away from the upcoming
violence.

The human spears were made of a slightly
flexible wood; iron tips sat at the end of each stick.
Not very
advanced,
Carpla implied as he tossed his blade to the ground,
its topaz glistening in the sunlight. Appearing defenseless before
the charging animals, he crossed his arms, waiting for one of them
to strike.

While well-aware of the quickly-approaching
humans, Carpla lost attention on them, his eyes scanning his
freezing surroundings. The ground, he noticed, was cold—but
wet—suggesting rain had recently fallen upon the mountain. How the
humans could have survived in this temperature stood well beyond
his understanding.

Oh right—the humans
.

With one of the humans coming within a
feather’s length of him, Carpla abruptly raised his dusty right
hand above his head. As it rose, so did the ground beneath the
approaching humans. The humans under the rising ground started
panicking at that moment, unable to escape Carpla’s invisible
grasp.

Now in control of the ground, Carpla decided
to finish off the humans. In order to do so, he lifted his left
hand and held it at the same height as his right hand—a large space
coming between them both. As a result of bringing his left hand
into the mess of earth, both Carpla’s hands held complete control
of the ground.
Time to end this!

Giving the humans no time to even blink,
Carpla brought his hands together in a devastating clap. As a
result of clapping, he allowed the mass of earth and humans to come
together in a sudden collision. Not a single one of them survived
such a crash.

BOOK: Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land
4.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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