6 views
Spectrulis-The Heart Of The Palace Walls
Prologue
The sun had just set beyond the horizon; reaching out towards the glittering ocean with his blood-drenched, trembling hand, he could feel the blood slowly stain his ivory, silk tunic red. His legs were so badly broken and bleeding from the many puncture wounds, they would probably never support his weight again. Light-headed from the gaping hole in his chest, his vision began to blur and his muscles went limp. I need to keep my eyes open! I need to protect them for a little longer!
Sorian
"Ameer!" Upon sighting his best friend, the fourteen-year-old heir of Arkta; Sorian offered a curt response to the scruffy servant boy awaiting his reply a few steps away.
He raced down the ice-glazed stairs to his friend in the garden below, taking the steps by twos or threes.
When the heir heard his arrival, he shrunk away, becoming increasingly more interested in the frost-lined flowers.
"Sorian…Lord Asterin, is there something I can help you with?" The frail, grey-haired prince mumbled.
With a vibrant laugh that lit up the eternal winter around them, Sorian placed his arm around his friend's narrow shoulders, "Of course not, do I need a reason to see my best friend?"
"I guess not."
"So how did the meeting this morning go? You met with the head of the security forces, right? The tall general with bedhead?"
"You shouldn't address him so informally, he is your senior," his friend muttered, reprimanded him. "But yes, I met with General Alguerra. The recruitment and training are causing way too many casualties; so we were looking for new methods that will be more effective and less dangerous and-"
"Boring!" Cutting off Ameer before he could go off on another tangent, Sorian steered his friend through the garden, pointing out the different plants that caught his eye.
Exasperated, Ameer tried to correct his incredibly lacking knowledge of Arktan plants. "No no, you've got it all wrong! That's an ice dragon crawling vine, a snow lily only has two petals AND they don't point up!"
Bursting into a fit of laughter, Sorian doubled over, breathless. Irritation plastered on Ameer’s pale face, as a blow landed just below his ribs moments later.
“Hey! What was that for!?” Sorian playfully retorted as Ameer turned away, hiding his bell-like laughter behind his hand.
“No reason,” Having gotten his breath under control, Ameer headed further into the garden.
Sorian watched his friend’s slight hint of happiness fade and ran after him.
“âme âme~”
Ameer stopped dead. Of course. Of all things, Ameer’s childhood nickname would work.
“Lord Asterin. I must take my leave now. Good day,” Ameer left a hint of a smile present as he walked back to the safety of the palace walls.
Ameer
After bidding his friend goodbye, what remained of his smile vanished. During his meeting, the general confessed his worries of a potential attack on Arkta expected as soon as today.
For fear of his friend’s safety and knowing that he was the target of the attack, he knew the best way to ensure Lord Asterin’s safety was by putting as much distance between the two of them as possible.
Suddenly- an explosively intense bang erupted from the garden behind him. The attack had begun, It was them: the infamous Shadows.
Sorian
Seconds after Ameer left his peripheral vision, a bomb exploded behind him; the impact sent him flying into the corner of the palace pavilion. As the dust cleared, seven silhouettes became abundantly clear.
The first and most prominent was a man slightly over 6” in height with a slim build, carrying double blades and sporting a pair of glasses. His stark white hair against his darker complexion made his origins unknown. Of course shadow beings were born genderless, choose to identify by how the appeared, especially handy as shapeshifters.
Flanking him on either side were two adolescent girls with distinctly long, pointed ears and skin as pearlescent as the moon. Their ebony hair framed their faces in sleek bob cuts. They seemed to be identical twins and both seemingly unarmed.
On the right a muscular man stood, holding a hatchet and wearing leathers adorned by unsettlingly white animal bones and teeth. Behind him, another woman stood, in her early twenties and holding what appeared to be her phone. She had forest green hair that fell in straight sheets down her back. Unscathed by the bomb and uninterested in her surroundings, her eyes remained glued to her screen.
On the left, two teenage boys laughed as they brought up the rear of the group. Each barely 5’2 with very opposing appearances. One had bright red hair, sapphire eyes, and pristine onyx skin. The other had pale skin, scattered with freckles, grey-black hair, and shining amber eyes. Each boy held a gun and had explosives hanging from their belts.
The Shadows were here. Renowned for their merciless, cutthroat attacks on the different realms of Spectrulis, they finally set their sights on Arkta, the land of snow. Undoubtedly-hoping to stain the ever-snowing paradise with crimson blood.
As if his presence was that of a fly, the troupe ignored him, barely sparing him a glance as they continued to talk amongst themselves.
“Obrahn, when will we be done here? I’m starving!” The fiery-haired boy called, his voice high pitched and whiney. So this was just another slaughter to them huh?
“Emi, do you have the information I requested?” Ignoring the boy behind him, the double-wielding swordsman turned his attention to the green-haired woman.
“Of course,” Her concise reply bit through the fog, but the young leader just chuckled.
“I expected as much, let’s begin,” With that, they all left to take on a separate corner of the palace.
Rage, tumbling and restless engulfed Sorian’s heart, clouding and consuming it. The shrill screams of his people echoed around him, ringing in his ears. Accept it, now release it, you idiot! Taking a deep breath, Sorian got up, his fingers tracing patterns, again and again in the air. The ancient runes etched themselves into his mind as he poured his love for his people into each action, flowing fluently from one stroke to the next. Protect Arkta. Protect his people. Protect Ameer. Energy flowed from him in cascading waves of power. Surrounded by a golden glow of aura and floating runes, he headed for the front entrance to the palace, in the direction of the Shadows’ leader.
Ameer
As the clouds of smoke engulfed the surrounding pavilions near the gardens, he could only pray to the rainbow that his friend was still alive. If General Alguerra’s suspicions were correct and this was an invasion by the Shadows; Sorian was as good as dead. If his friend survived the explosion and remained quiet he might live, but knowing that idiot- Ameer sighed. Sorian was dead meat.
Lost in thought, Ameer was caught off guard by an aura stronger than any he had ever witnessed. Rooted to the ground he felt himself relax upon the impact of energy waves, each one like a ray of sunlight. Burning brighter and brighter. It was Sorian. Healing and protecting what he cared for most. That idiot had survived, by some unknown miracle Sorian was alive. Now, all Ameer had to do was find his idiotic friend before he made a stupid sacrifice Sorian undoubtedly would.
Obrahn
They finally made it. The requiem of bloodshed and anguished screams serenaded his ears. The snow-covered valleys of Arkta stained red. The White court of snow was no longer.
Blood coated the main city of Arkta, as a burning rush of power slammed into him, full of so much power; he was convinced conflict had ensued with the royal family.
“Behind you.”
Slowly, Obrahn turned around, the sight that met his eyes would remain etched in his memories for the rest of his life. The sixteen-year-old boy He had overlooked in the gardens stood several feet away from him. The redhead’s temple bleeding rivers down his face, yet his golden eyes remained level and still; the calm before a storm. The boy, relaxed as can be, painstakingly made his way towards him, each step even and purposeful. As if an eternity had passed, the boy finally stood before him, inches out of reach.
Sorian
After locating the man he deemed the leader, he simply said, “Behind you,” The man slowly turned, shock flitting briefly across his pale grey eyes. Making his approach, Sorian ignored the pain in his back and the incessant throbbing in his mind. This man was responsible for the suffering his people were currently experiencing. How could he call himself a lord when his people were dying around him?
“Sorian...How are you alive? How did you-?” Standing behind the dual-wielding swordsman on the garden patio was Ameer, he had tears streaming down his face, in either pain or relief, Sorian couldn't tell.
“Ameer? Run, you idiot!” Sorian yelled, what in the world had possessed his friend to call out to him when the opponent still stood between them? What a fool! Desperate to distract the opponent from his unarmed friend, Sorian lunged forward, briefly tugging the corner of the man’s cloak, and, in the brief millisecond that Obrahn looked away, he grabbed Ameer’s arm and pulled his friend into the safety of the palace walls.
The sight the two boys were greeted with when they entered, looked like a bloodbath, servants corpses adorned the walls and their blood smears covered the historic tapestries. The eerie silence, filled only by the resounding taps of their shoes on the marble floor.
“Sorian?”
“What is it?” Eyes no longer on corpses before him, Sorian turned to face his best friend. The young heir looked pale, his hands trembling as he shakily reached out to the corpses of the many servants and butlers who had served his family for centuries. The light that had once filled his friend’s eyes flickered out.
“Who did this? Was it them..? The Shadows?” Ameer’s words were soft, quiet, and deadly; no matter what Sorian said now, he knew Ameer’s mentality would collapse beyond reason, so he opted for the truth.
“Yes. It was them.”
Ameer
After hearing his friend’s confirmation, he didn’t know what to believe, he knew that if the Shadows remained in the kingdom, the casualties would be through the roof, potentially wiping out all the inhabitants of Arkta before sunset tonight.
“Hey, are you, okay?” Sorian’s concern was evident in his voice, his friend’s hand came to rest on Ameer’s shoulder. They needed to get the troupe out of the kingdom and engage in conflict somewhere else. The ocean! Why didn’t he think of that sooner?
“Sorian...Can you use your aura to attract the Shadows to you?”
Sorian
“I can but, do you even have a plan? You do know what you’re asking right?” Was Ameer crazy? Bring the troupe to him? What was he thinking?
“Of course I have a plan. We need to get them as far away from the kingdom as possible!”
“Where do you suppose we take them then!?” Sorian’s formerly hushed whisper was now replaced by a concerned shout.
“The ocean.”
Of course, if he brought them to the ocean, he could create a protective barrier around the kingdom until backup came.
“Alright, I will take them to the ocean and keep them occupied for as long as possible. Try not to die before I come back ok?”
“I’m coming with you,”
“No you’re not,” How stupid was this idiot!?
“Yes, I am. You need me there,” Ameer retorted, his eyes steeled with determination.
“NO, YOU’RE NOT! I can’t risk your life, you are the prince of Arkta,” Terrified of losing his best friend and his kingdom’s hope for revival, Sorian brought his hand down on his friend’s neck, knocking him unconscious. Ameer would understand what he needed to do when he woke up. Sorian set his friend’s unconscious body down under the stairwell, safe from falling debris.
After taking a moment to gather his strength, Sorian sprinted back outside; the swordsman was nowhere in sight. With a deep breath, Sorian sent what remained of his energy to his legs.
He reached the seashore twenty minutes later. From the vast amount of aura he used to propel himself to the beach, the troupe should have noticed and followed him; true to his suspicions, behind him stood the seven figures from earlier. With a deep breath and a final promise to fulfill he sent all his remaining energy to shroud the kingdom of snow in a golden barrier.
Several hours later
Taking a deep breath that tore past his shattered lungs, Sorian’s view of the palace walls just beyond his fingertips dimmed into a void of obscurity. His death will not be enough. The palace walls will protect his kingdom; he would make sure of that, he had to! Blood flowed steadily into the ocean behind him and with his consciousness fading, Sorian heard receding footsteps head off in the direction of the palace. NO! He needed more time!
As the sun faded into the sea behind his battered corpse, Sorian’s body lay, his blood staining the ocean red. Try as they might, not even Sorian’s death would ever break the protective wall he placed around his treasured homeland, protecting what remained of the Arktans. He was the heart of the palace walls.
© Bifen
The sun had just set beyond the horizon; reaching out towards the glittering ocean with his blood-drenched, trembling hand, he could feel the blood slowly stain his ivory, silk tunic red. His legs were so badly broken and bleeding from the many puncture wounds, they would probably never support his weight again. Light-headed from the gaping hole in his chest, his vision began to blur and his muscles went limp. I need to keep my eyes open! I need to protect them for a little longer!
Sorian
"Ameer!" Upon sighting his best friend, the fourteen-year-old heir of Arkta; Sorian offered a curt response to the scruffy servant boy awaiting his reply a few steps away.
He raced down the ice-glazed stairs to his friend in the garden below, taking the steps by twos or threes.
When the heir heard his arrival, he shrunk away, becoming increasingly more interested in the frost-lined flowers.
"Sorian…Lord Asterin, is there something I can help you with?" The frail, grey-haired prince mumbled.
With a vibrant laugh that lit up the eternal winter around them, Sorian placed his arm around his friend's narrow shoulders, "Of course not, do I need a reason to see my best friend?"
"I guess not."
"So how did the meeting this morning go? You met with the head of the security forces, right? The tall general with bedhead?"
"You shouldn't address him so informally, he is your senior," his friend muttered, reprimanded him. "But yes, I met with General Alguerra. The recruitment and training are causing way too many casualties; so we were looking for new methods that will be more effective and less dangerous and-"
"Boring!" Cutting off Ameer before he could go off on another tangent, Sorian steered his friend through the garden, pointing out the different plants that caught his eye.
Exasperated, Ameer tried to correct his incredibly lacking knowledge of Arktan plants. "No no, you've got it all wrong! That's an ice dragon crawling vine, a snow lily only has two petals AND they don't point up!"
Bursting into a fit of laughter, Sorian doubled over, breathless. Irritation plastered on Ameer’s pale face, as a blow landed just below his ribs moments later.
“Hey! What was that for!?” Sorian playfully retorted as Ameer turned away, hiding his bell-like laughter behind his hand.
“No reason,” Having gotten his breath under control, Ameer headed further into the garden.
Sorian watched his friend’s slight hint of happiness fade and ran after him.
“âme âme~”
Ameer stopped dead. Of course. Of all things, Ameer’s childhood nickname would work.
“Lord Asterin. I must take my leave now. Good day,” Ameer left a hint of a smile present as he walked back to the safety of the palace walls.
Ameer
After bidding his friend goodbye, what remained of his smile vanished. During his meeting, the general confessed his worries of a potential attack on Arkta expected as soon as today.
For fear of his friend’s safety and knowing that he was the target of the attack, he knew the best way to ensure Lord Asterin’s safety was by putting as much distance between the two of them as possible.
Suddenly- an explosively intense bang erupted from the garden behind him. The attack had begun, It was them: the infamous Shadows.
Sorian
Seconds after Ameer left his peripheral vision, a bomb exploded behind him; the impact sent him flying into the corner of the palace pavilion. As the dust cleared, seven silhouettes became abundantly clear.
The first and most prominent was a man slightly over 6” in height with a slim build, carrying double blades and sporting a pair of glasses. His stark white hair against his darker complexion made his origins unknown. Of course shadow beings were born genderless, choose to identify by how the appeared, especially handy as shapeshifters.
Flanking him on either side were two adolescent girls with distinctly long, pointed ears and skin as pearlescent as the moon. Their ebony hair framed their faces in sleek bob cuts. They seemed to be identical twins and both seemingly unarmed.
On the right a muscular man stood, holding a hatchet and wearing leathers adorned by unsettlingly white animal bones and teeth. Behind him, another woman stood, in her early twenties and holding what appeared to be her phone. She had forest green hair that fell in straight sheets down her back. Unscathed by the bomb and uninterested in her surroundings, her eyes remained glued to her screen.
On the left, two teenage boys laughed as they brought up the rear of the group. Each barely 5’2 with very opposing appearances. One had bright red hair, sapphire eyes, and pristine onyx skin. The other had pale skin, scattered with freckles, grey-black hair, and shining amber eyes. Each boy held a gun and had explosives hanging from their belts.
The Shadows were here. Renowned for their merciless, cutthroat attacks on the different realms of Spectrulis, they finally set their sights on Arkta, the land of snow. Undoubtedly-hoping to stain the ever-snowing paradise with crimson blood.
As if his presence was that of a fly, the troupe ignored him, barely sparing him a glance as they continued to talk amongst themselves.
“Obrahn, when will we be done here? I’m starving!” The fiery-haired boy called, his voice high pitched and whiney. So this was just another slaughter to them huh?
“Emi, do you have the information I requested?” Ignoring the boy behind him, the double-wielding swordsman turned his attention to the green-haired woman.
“Of course,” Her concise reply bit through the fog, but the young leader just chuckled.
“I expected as much, let’s begin,” With that, they all left to take on a separate corner of the palace.
Rage, tumbling and restless engulfed Sorian’s heart, clouding and consuming it. The shrill screams of his people echoed around him, ringing in his ears. Accept it, now release it, you idiot! Taking a deep breath, Sorian got up, his fingers tracing patterns, again and again in the air. The ancient runes etched themselves into his mind as he poured his love for his people into each action, flowing fluently from one stroke to the next. Protect Arkta. Protect his people. Protect Ameer. Energy flowed from him in cascading waves of power. Surrounded by a golden glow of aura and floating runes, he headed for the front entrance to the palace, in the direction of the Shadows’ leader.
Ameer
As the clouds of smoke engulfed the surrounding pavilions near the gardens, he could only pray to the rainbow that his friend was still alive. If General Alguerra’s suspicions were correct and this was an invasion by the Shadows; Sorian was as good as dead. If his friend survived the explosion and remained quiet he might live, but knowing that idiot- Ameer sighed. Sorian was dead meat.
Lost in thought, Ameer was caught off guard by an aura stronger than any he had ever witnessed. Rooted to the ground he felt himself relax upon the impact of energy waves, each one like a ray of sunlight. Burning brighter and brighter. It was Sorian. Healing and protecting what he cared for most. That idiot had survived, by some unknown miracle Sorian was alive. Now, all Ameer had to do was find his idiotic friend before he made a stupid sacrifice Sorian undoubtedly would.
Obrahn
They finally made it. The requiem of bloodshed and anguished screams serenaded his ears. The snow-covered valleys of Arkta stained red. The White court of snow was no longer.
Blood coated the main city of Arkta, as a burning rush of power slammed into him, full of so much power; he was convinced conflict had ensued with the royal family.
“Behind you.”
Slowly, Obrahn turned around, the sight that met his eyes would remain etched in his memories for the rest of his life. The sixteen-year-old boy He had overlooked in the gardens stood several feet away from him. The redhead’s temple bleeding rivers down his face, yet his golden eyes remained level and still; the calm before a storm. The boy, relaxed as can be, painstakingly made his way towards him, each step even and purposeful. As if an eternity had passed, the boy finally stood before him, inches out of reach.
Sorian
After locating the man he deemed the leader, he simply said, “Behind you,” The man slowly turned, shock flitting briefly across his pale grey eyes. Making his approach, Sorian ignored the pain in his back and the incessant throbbing in his mind. This man was responsible for the suffering his people were currently experiencing. How could he call himself a lord when his people were dying around him?
“Sorian...How are you alive? How did you-?” Standing behind the dual-wielding swordsman on the garden patio was Ameer, he had tears streaming down his face, in either pain or relief, Sorian couldn't tell.
“Ameer? Run, you idiot!” Sorian yelled, what in the world had possessed his friend to call out to him when the opponent still stood between them? What a fool! Desperate to distract the opponent from his unarmed friend, Sorian lunged forward, briefly tugging the corner of the man’s cloak, and, in the brief millisecond that Obrahn looked away, he grabbed Ameer’s arm and pulled his friend into the safety of the palace walls.
The sight the two boys were greeted with when they entered, looked like a bloodbath, servants corpses adorned the walls and their blood smears covered the historic tapestries. The eerie silence, filled only by the resounding taps of their shoes on the marble floor.
“Sorian?”
“What is it?” Eyes no longer on corpses before him, Sorian turned to face his best friend. The young heir looked pale, his hands trembling as he shakily reached out to the corpses of the many servants and butlers who had served his family for centuries. The light that had once filled his friend’s eyes flickered out.
“Who did this? Was it them..? The Shadows?” Ameer’s words were soft, quiet, and deadly; no matter what Sorian said now, he knew Ameer’s mentality would collapse beyond reason, so he opted for the truth.
“Yes. It was them.”
Ameer
After hearing his friend’s confirmation, he didn’t know what to believe, he knew that if the Shadows remained in the kingdom, the casualties would be through the roof, potentially wiping out all the inhabitants of Arkta before sunset tonight.
“Hey, are you, okay?” Sorian’s concern was evident in his voice, his friend’s hand came to rest on Ameer’s shoulder. They needed to get the troupe out of the kingdom and engage in conflict somewhere else. The ocean! Why didn’t he think of that sooner?
“Sorian...Can you use your aura to attract the Shadows to you?”
Sorian
“I can but, do you even have a plan? You do know what you’re asking right?” Was Ameer crazy? Bring the troupe to him? What was he thinking?
“Of course I have a plan. We need to get them as far away from the kingdom as possible!”
“Where do you suppose we take them then!?” Sorian’s formerly hushed whisper was now replaced by a concerned shout.
“The ocean.”
Of course, if he brought them to the ocean, he could create a protective barrier around the kingdom until backup came.
“Alright, I will take them to the ocean and keep them occupied for as long as possible. Try not to die before I come back ok?”
“I’m coming with you,”
“No you’re not,” How stupid was this idiot!?
“Yes, I am. You need me there,” Ameer retorted, his eyes steeled with determination.
“NO, YOU’RE NOT! I can’t risk your life, you are the prince of Arkta,” Terrified of losing his best friend and his kingdom’s hope for revival, Sorian brought his hand down on his friend’s neck, knocking him unconscious. Ameer would understand what he needed to do when he woke up. Sorian set his friend’s unconscious body down under the stairwell, safe from falling debris.
After taking a moment to gather his strength, Sorian sprinted back outside; the swordsman was nowhere in sight. With a deep breath, Sorian sent what remained of his energy to his legs.
He reached the seashore twenty minutes later. From the vast amount of aura he used to propel himself to the beach, the troupe should have noticed and followed him; true to his suspicions, behind him stood the seven figures from earlier. With a deep breath and a final promise to fulfill he sent all his remaining energy to shroud the kingdom of snow in a golden barrier.
Several hours later
Taking a deep breath that tore past his shattered lungs, Sorian’s view of the palace walls just beyond his fingertips dimmed into a void of obscurity. His death will not be enough. The palace walls will protect his kingdom; he would make sure of that, he had to! Blood flowed steadily into the ocean behind him and with his consciousness fading, Sorian heard receding footsteps head off in the direction of the palace. NO! He needed more time!
As the sun faded into the sea behind his battered corpse, Sorian’s body lay, his blood staining the ocean red. Try as they might, not even Sorian’s death would ever break the protective wall he placed around his treasured homeland, protecting what remained of the Arktans. He was the heart of the palace walls.
© Bifen
