Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land (5 page)

Yofel had two choices: either his body would
become one with flame or his sword would.
I have to think
fast!
In the blink of an eye, a stream of flame skyrocketed its
way through the scorpan’s maw.

Just in time, Yofel was able to lock his
sword in a position to where he could use it as a shield to protect
himself from the blazing flames. Heat radiated into his hands as
Yofel found himself dropping his sword—making sure to hop away from
the melted metal. Before he knew it, Yofel was looking down at the
ground, his sword now a steaming soup of liquid metal.

Thankfully for Yofel, the thought of his
totalled sword soon became a thing of the past. Before the scorpan
could the tiniest step forward, Yofel hopped over his sword and
slid beneath the scorpan—up to the blade of immortality.

Upon making his way to the blade he had so
desired, Yofel wrapped his fingers around its hilt.
This is
it.
The very feel of the blade caused victory to surge through
his veins. His heart helping to spread this feeling through his
body, Yofel felt himself coming closer and closer to true
happiness. This was even
better
than the time he’d spent as
a child; it was as if he were doomed to eternal peace and
prosperity.

“Finally,” Yofel whispered to himself, eyes
locked on the blade. At the same time was no attention “I have the
blade of immortality.” Holding the fat, blue blade by its hilt, he
touched one of his fingers to its tip and allowed its metal to
place a cut into his skin. A drop of blood stained a sword as an
even greater surge of energy became ever-present. To him this jolt
of energy felt as powerful as diving into a recently thawed-out
pool.

Taking sight of the angered scorpan rushing
toward him, Yofel took his blade and immediately thrust it forward.
It had taken a leap of faith to point this blade toward the
scorpan’s stomach. What if the blade’s compounds caused the scorpan
to become immortal, too?
Is that really how the blade
works?

Before he could have backed away from the
scorpan, an enormous shock spread through Yofel’s blade and up to
his shoulder. Opening his eyes, Yofel wondered whose death he had
just drawn out: the scorpan’s or his own?

Relief washed over Yofel’s gaze when he took
notice of the scorpan’s state. Limp and nonbreathing did the horrid
creature lay there. Within heartbeats, however, relief would turn
to fear—as an ingenuous look surpassed the scorpan’s eyes. Such a
sight made Yofel feel as if he had done something terribly wrong.
Should I have killed him?

Such a question remained until he bent down
over the scorpan, his blade tight in hand. Disgust in himself
formed in Yofel’s stomach as he watched the scorpan bathe himself
in a pool of blood. Bending over toward the deceased creature, he
asked himself,
What’s going on?

A small sense of nervousness and curiosity
itched all around Yofel when he bent over to the pool of blood.
Should I?

--

Not everything we do can be
successful.
Baphonsey noted.
Yofel isn’t entirely successful
at everything!
Sitting upon a ledge of one of her home’s
windows, Baphonsey sat and contemplated Yofel’s decisions.

Yofel never seemed to be the patient type,
and even if he had the patience to find the temple, what would he
do when he gets there? What if there was some type of creature that
could cause him great danger?

What would Yofel do when he
did
become immortal? Would he even share it with me? Would it be too
late for us by the time he
did
get the blade?
All these
thoughts and more caused her to touch a finger to her lip.

A sigh extracting from her mouth, Baphonsey
picked up a bucket by her foot and hoisted herself up from the
window’s ledge. All the while did she attempt to keep herself in a
cheery mood. Baphonsey clapped her hands as she uttered over to the
klai, “Come on, everybody! Follow me!” One by one did the animals
come out from their business to herd over to their owner.

At the same time did Baphonsey wonder if they
took any realization to Yofel’s absence. All this wondering came to
an end when a loud
bang
vibrated all around the surrounding
area.

What was that?
Needing only a
heartbeat to think, Baphonsey began to panic.
No! He couldn’t!
Yofel’s not going to die from the temple!

With only a for more heartbeats did she
realize any thougths of denial were futile. Just when she took
notice of this fact did she come to her knees and begin to sob into
her dirt-covered hands.
He’s gone!
she realized.
Why did
he have to do this? Why couldn’t he have stayed home?

Tears buried in her own hands, Baphonsey wept
as her klai made a ring around her. She was blissfully ignorant of
their presence, feeling as if she were all to herself. Not even the
klai’s snorts, chortles, and cries could have brought her out of
her position. It wasn’t until the sound of footsteps vibrated in
her ears when the klai grew silent.

Dumbfounded by the sound, Baphonsey raised
her head from her hands and took a look up. A great spark of
elation and relief flashed in her head when she took sight of Yofel
standing in front of her. Although his back was turned to
Baphonsey, her face lit up like the sun at such a phenomenal
sight.

Happiness overwhelming her, Baphonsey picked
herself up off her knees and rushed over to her husband. “Yofel! I
can’t believe you’re alive! Oh, how I missed you!” Her arms open,
her heart thumping about in her chest, Baphonsey prepared to wrap
her arms around her beloved husband.

It almost came as a surprise to Yofel when he
took notice of his wife’s arms forming a cage around his shoulders.
I’m back
, he realized. Now with his own lips, “H-how did I
get here?” All the while did he look over his shoulder and at his
weeping wife.

Without paying any regard to her husband’s
words, Baphonsey buried her face in his chest. “I thought you were
gone! I can’t belive you’re back!” she sobbed, her tears absorbing
into his clothes.

Realizing there could be only one way for
Yofel to have survived the explosion, Baphonsey looked up and
stammered when she asked him, “Are you—are you an immortal?” All
the while did she peer at the blade in his hand.

Pulling out his blade, Yofel hesitantly
replied, “Yes—I am!” At this moment he gently touched the tip of
the blue blade to Baphonsey’s throat, giving her whole body a
flinch as a course of energy surged through her.

Gasping, Yofel’s wife wondered,
What’s he
doing to me? Is he trying to kill me?
Rather than kill her, the
feel of blade digging into her skin caused the blade’s
already-present energy to spike in her blood. Such energy made her
feel a great votality within her—a votality she gave a slight
struggle to control.

Swallowing, Baphonsey looked up at Yofel
and—from the look in his eyes—she could tell that the rest of their
endless lives would carry them to the edges of the world and drive
them to the extremes and pull them to and from the brink of
destruction.

--

As the week progressed, Yofel had offered
immortality only to those who would help him create a new
civilization in the new world he envisioned. There were only a few
he had come in contact with who would not accept such an offer—and
were left to die at the end of the week.

With the large meteor’s impact with Eas, the
planet split into many tinier worlds as it spread all across space
itself. Yofel and almost all those he’d made immortal were lucky
enough to stay together in a cluster of Easi debris.

It seemed like a century of drifting
insipidly through the stars when Yofel and the others caught sight
of a blue speck floating about in space. At this point Yofel came
up with an idea to draw himself closer to this glowing speck. His
idea was to have all of the immortals on one side of the space
rock, causing it to possibly move toward it. Yofel wasn’t sure if
his plan would be successful—but within a matter of days, he and
all the Easi crashed into the waters west of a strange and
mountainous place.

Upon making their splashdown, the immortals
made their way toward a fire-spitting mountain. Seeing this as a
passage underground, each of the Easi passed through the magma
unharmed, and found themselves in the hottest area they had ever
experienced. Using the powers of his blade was Yofel able to
control the magma and make enough space to build a great empire
underground. Finding whatever deceased creatures’ skeletons he
could, Yofel decided to use them to help build the empire as he and
the immortals became the nobles of a city known as Mocrano.

Soon came the time when Yofel was able to
control his own powers and use them to create a system of
government in this new place. All those earthlings died would
become slaves who would help to set the foundations for the many
buildings within Mocrano. As Mocrano spread, these slaves were
especially busy with crafting thousands and thousands of
monuments.

Seeing Yofel’s actions as cruelty, nearly
half of the immortals planned to overthrow him. Of this group
included his own wife: Baphonsey. Sparing every last gram of her
energy, she was able to smuggle the blade of immortality and launch
it back into the stars. From that moment on she was never seen
again by Mocranian eyes.

That was Yofel’s story—a tale of love, loss,
and immortality. Rarely would he think of Baphonsey and the way she
had so desperately tried to betray him.

--

Chapter III

The New Addition

Had he not skeletal features, Molar would
have given off an appearance appealing to all who’d seen
him—Mocranian or not. From what the Mocranians were able to tell,
never before had anything so terrifying in appearance also given
off such an adorable profile. Whether it was his large eyes,
eagle-like beak, stubby wings, or lion paws—nobody could tell
exactly what it was that made this little griffin so pleasing to
the eye.

His father, however, couldn’t decide what he
was more like: a mother or a father? He was like a father in the
way he taught his son important lessons—such as hunting, killing,
and learning how to survive without civilization. At the same time,
however, he was like a mother in how he always told Molar stories
at the end of the day—stories usually about Mocrano’s
achievements.

It had been only a day after his own creation
when Molar crawled outside the marvelous castle in which he and his
father now prospered. He made sure to remain inside the walls
outside of the castle—as he could not imagine what would happen had
he exited his home’s walls. Wonder spread through his mind as he
paced through his father’s plant-filled, wall-protected garden.

One habit Molar held dear to himself was
discovering many of Carpla’s Mocranian plants. With many
differences from Earth plants, Mocrano’s plants drank a strange
green liquid known as malid: the key to survival for everything in
Mocrano. In addition to having a different supply for drinks, the
plants received energy from the lack of light Mocrano had to
offer.

Apart from their needs, almost every
Mocranian plant’s leaves held the purple of gorgeous amethyst gems.
Needing protection from ravenous plant-eating beasts, the majority
of the plants’ stems wore sharp maroon thorns for self-defense.
With such intensity in their tips, these thorns had the ability to
piece through fabric, skin, and even bone!

The plants’ purple and red colors were an
inspiration to the traditional clothing the Mocranians wore—and
also to the inspiration to Carpla’s clothing design. Only by
wearing these colors—they believed—could they appear valiant in
front of the rest of the Mocranians.

Searching his way through Carpla’s garden,
Molar poked his beak through a bush of flowers. Inside did he find
a small pool of malid. He nearly hopped at such a sight, as he had
never seen so much malid in one place before. Little did he know
his reflection remained ever-present in this pool.

Coming closer to the malid, Molar could feel
something scratching on his neck—something sharp and irritating.
The more he pulled his head into the bush, the more this scratch
moved down his spine.

Unable to bear the continuous pain, Molar
yanked his head out of the bush. To his disappointment, the pull on
Molar’s bones suddenly worsened as tens of scratches formed along
his spine. Upon taking notice of such a painful sensation, he tried
his best to keep a howl of pain from being released into the
air.

Without the ability to speak, Molar backed
away from the plants. All the while did he fear the nonmoving
weapons in front of him.

It was the first time he realized how the
beautiful things in life could hold enough danger to kill somebody.
If so was the case, could any type of object or person—varying from
the most beautiful to the most hideous—be used as an arsenal for
life theft?

--

Soon came the time when Molar was old enough
to leave the walls surrounding Carpla’s castle. Growing bored from
seeing the same plants over and over again, he wondered if there
would be even stranger plants lurking outside the walls. It was a
thought which dared to challenge all he had once known about the
outside world.

Trying not to find trouble from any strangers
outside of the walls, Molar would often look behind his back,
noticing his father’s castle growing smaller and smaller. From a
distance, the castle seemed to look younger than when he stood just
in front of it. How long would it be until all that was left was a
fuzz of a silhouette?

All nobles owned either houses or castles
that were made out of limestone—while the citizens usually owned
huts made out of mud bricks. The bricks were specially carved by
expert crafters to give the huts a round appearance. Slaves,
however, would find it most fortunate if they could own or sleep in
a house at all. Too many of them have had to sleep outside along
with many of the tiny pests living there.