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****The legend of Lorez is old. Older than the age of the Realm’s young Demon Antinoos. And more real than the myth of the prophesied Syhlain. It took birth on one heartless night in Cold Woods and consumed two thousand years of Realmic time and countless lives as the curse of Darchuz stood the test of time. It bore fruits of war and death. And plagued love if it ever took root between a Demon and a Demon-slayer. Two thousand years ago, before the Kingdom of Enth fell to Queen Arela of Ducimus and her armies; a race of powerful amazons, the extensive islands of Volttus and Khuzdoh were ruled by Darchuz, a powerful and ruthless Demon King. Darchuz was a great fighter who knew not much about love. He believed in might and his lust for blood and power was insatiable. Hence, when his heart skipped a beat as it had never done before upon seeing a delicate creature so pure, he wanted to possess her too. Alas! She refused. Refused the mighty Krâl for a lesser other! Defeat does not sit well with Demon Kings of the Realm. However, the price Darchuz paid for his victory was beyond that which he could afford. Queen Arela, the heiress of Saon of Ducimus, offered Darchuz a plan that sat well with his burning rage for revenge. He allied with Arela against the free Syhlain Kingdom of Enth. If victorious, he was promised the Cold Woods of Enth. The Cold Woods – a world in its own right. It was here that Darchuz had tasted love and the loss of it. And it was here that he wanted to leave an undeniable mark. He would be victorious and Lorez would come with her beloved Woods as a prize while the rest of her Enth would be splintered under the barbaric Ducimus. He would crush the land and keep her to remind her of what devastation she had brought upon her own people. Then, she would repent. And the mighty Krâl would forgive her; love her and she would be his for eternity. The wars ensued. Darchuz fought and butchered viciously but during the last battle, a mere soldier challenged him and cut off a lock of the Demon’s hair with his sword. This sent Darchuz in a rage and he stabbed the little soldier to death. As the tiny soldier lay on the ground beneath Darchuz’s feet – covered in blood and mud and in pain – the mighty Krâl bent down and lifted the war mask from his enemy’s face. And in that moment, he died a thousand deaths more painful than that of his victim. “Lorez!” He gasped. “No! No!” What had he done? Killed his dream? Murdered his goddess? Ended his life for what else was there to live for? Lorez. Dead. In his arms. The armies of Ducimus were victorious and paid Darchuz his share. But the memories of his beautiful dead Lorez haunted him so much that he started losing his mind as he pined for her love. He lost his ability to control fire and the Scepter of Fire cradled in Khuzdoh, guarded by Narzul, became angry. The Scepter refused to forgive or mend the rent in his heart. The Scepter desired complete loyalty. The Scepter demanded total domination of the Realm from Krâl and by Krâl alone. Darchuz had fallen short of that promise. He had abused his power as part of someone else’s plan. He had shared his supremacy in return for small favors; measly parchments of land. These were not the ways of Demon Krâl. This was not acceptable. The Scepter punished him. She absorbed his demon powers. And so fell apart the rule of Krâl Darchuz. As he grew less powerful every day, stronger grew his thirst for vengeance. Before he finally killed himself with his own sword, he put a curse on every succeeding Demon of Volttus and the entire race of Syhlains. A Demon of Volttus who lost a lock of hair to a Syhlain princess was destined to lose his powers and become an ordinary mortal again. If he tried to restore his powers by using the Scepter of Fire, he would keep his powers but be doomed to lose his human form and become a monster for all eternity. As for the Syhlain princess, she would become an undead spirit haunting the worlds in her realm. The only way to lift the curse was if both the Demon and the Demon-slayer crushed the Scepter before the Demon became human and lost his powers. Though Darchuz was dead, the spirit of Lorez could not escape his fury and fell victim to the curse. And after the painful passage of two thousand years, she still haunted the realms of her lost kingdom. Waiting for the last Syhlain to come and free her of the curse. But with passing centuries, prophesy of the last Syhlain seemed a myth. It became a bedtime story that children loved to hear over and over again. A Syhlain would arise from the dead ashes of Enth and unite them all. The Syhlain would find a way to free Lorez though nobody knew how. Could there possibly be a Demon-slayer who could persuade a Demon to destroy his own Scepter? None knew. But all waited still… ****A headache was exploding through my head by the time Lorez finished her narration. I closed my eyes and pressed my temples with my palms. That seemed to steady my twirling mind a bit. “Okay let me get this straight,” I said, eyes still shut, palms still pressing the temples. “First I’m not human – I’m some fancy specie that looks human. Then I’m blue blooded – or whatever color it is that you allot to your royals here. You are an undead – dead. And there is a curse that I’ll fall victim to if I don't – I don't –” I looked up at her and shook my head about a million times. “I don't understand why it has to be me? How can you be so sure I’m the only Syhlain left? There might be someone else living in some remote corner of the Realm who is the true last Syhlain and cursed and all. How do you know it’s me?” “Because your mother was the only Syhlain left in her time.” Lorez smiled at me. “And she gave birth only to you. There is no other Syhlain, Aoife. Only you.” I shook my head vigorously. This was just too weird and too much to take in all at once. Besides so many details didn't match up to what I’d known about my life. This woman had to be wrong! “But how is that even possible?” I said. “My parents were human. I am human. I may have doubts about my stepmother being human but she’s not a Syhlain for sure. And Daddy. My whole life he has been normal, boring even. I know Demon said my mother was a Syhlain but that can’t be. My mother drowned in a lake when her car skidded into it in a storm. I was just two years old so of course I don't remember her but if she had any powers, she wouldn't have died that way. And I would still have a mother!” I choked a little. “I think you’re wrong.” “Sweet child – Evangeline died a week after giving birth to you.” Lorez said this softly but her words fell on me like a thousand ton anvil. “What do you mean? Are you saying Daddy lied to me?” I nearly screamed. “He lied to me all his life?” "I’m sorry child,” she said. “You were all Alistair had. He chose to hide your true identity after Evangeline’s death so no one could find you. And he chose wisely. You were the last royal child to be born in the clan of Syhla. Everyone else in the family was either dead or killed by our enemies. You had to be protected, my precious.” She smiled and there was a shine in her eyes and a lilt in her voice that reminded me so much of Daddy. As much I hated the revelation, it made more sense than anything else had till then. I’d never seen a picture of my mother – funny I’d never asked why till now. “Aoife,” Lorez was still speaking, “you are the last to carry our mark. You have a destiny to fulfill and the powers you speak of are in that blood. They will come to you." "No. This isn’t destiny.” I was angry. “This is a trick your lake keeper played on me. This has nothing to do with freeing you of Darchuz's curse!” “Be prepared my child,” she said calmly. “A war is coming.” And with that, just as quickly as she had risen, her body started to twirl gracefully back into the water and was gone. And that’s when I remembered I had forgotten to ask her who in hell was Antinoos? Directory: submissions submissions -> Committee on the rights of the child the rights of all children in the context of international migration submissions -> Lindane risk profile (Prepared by Mexico) Executive summary submissions -> The Private and Social Value of Blackout Risk Reduction submissions -> Science and Engineering vs Concussions Abstract submissions -> Contact and Email submissions -> Rfid with Bio-Smart Card in Linux submissions -> Discretion in Human-Computer Interaction submissions -> The evolving dynamics of eurasian supply and demand in the increasingly integrated global gas market submissions -> 32 Bit Floating Point Audio Processing The Sky is the Limit submissions -> The Quantum Approach to np-hard Optimization Problems Name: Sam Prager Bio Download 0.93 Mb. Share with your friends:
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