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Seeker of Fate: Part7

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“…Impossible…Why am I losing now after having the power from Fate itself?! Gaaaah!” Said Persolis after he took a punch and was sent flying across the many ruins. But it seemed that a magical barrier did protect him from further damage.

The Huntress, or rather the Abomination, was following her prey without rest. She was very fast flying with blinding speed, shrieking like a mad falcon and howling like an omen of death.

“That must be the reason… there’s no other way around it! She did also acquire the threads of Fate! A power of an Immortal! But the one she embodies… I don’t know it! Who might it be?! The Forger or the Scholar? Perhaps, the Serpent? Who might it be?!” Wondered Persolis as he was casting thunderbolts to repel the horrifying monster he was facing.

On the other hand, the Abomination was either throwing powerful missiles of negative necromantic energy at him or swinging a blade made by what seemed to be Dark Blood. However, the fat noble made sure to not get hit by that blood or the magical strikes. In fact, he countered by trapping her within a certain spell which summoned a lot of Fire Pillars. The substance and the essence of the monster seemed quite vulnerable to flames.

The Abomination was unable to move under the great heat of the fire and was set ablaze. Persolis made sure to increase the heat to a point where the fire turned into lightning.

Now, this is your downfall! No one can compete with the most powerful of them! The Thunderer! Burn and turn to dust!” Screamed Persolis.

“I… cannot… die…Can… I?” A decrepit and feeble human voice came from the beast.

A blackness arose from the abomination, granting her strength from nowhere and overwhelming the brightness of Persolis’ electricity.

The empowered Abomination pierced his stomach with her skeleton fist and ripped his guts. Moroever, Persolis casted a thunder storm to distance himself from her and used his new acquired power to regenerate his injury.

Great Thunderer! I sought you and believed in the Eldritch Truth you covet! And the frailty of our own fate! Why… why is that your will is weaker than this abomination!?” It was not clear if Persolis was praying to someone or rather blaming him for not giving him enough power.

“I cannot lose. No one would lose. Are we locked in this underworld, to fight for eternity like what the Immortals are doing since time memorial?” Added Persolis.

The monster would strike, the ascended one would block with his lightning barriers. Their powers were eventually matched but the ferocity of the Abomination made the mage cornered and unable to recover his breath. Eventually, few Thunderbirds charged at both of them from nowhere.

“Haha! This is a golden gift from the Thunderer!” Said Persolis as he used his power to mind control these undead giant birds and commanded them to attack the Abomination. “I forgot that I’m blessed by Fate himself! Sometimes, my mind can be silly… hehehe. Everything in this world is a possession of the Thunderer and thus I can control it!” He added.

The Abomination was suddenly outnumbered in battle and found herself cornered instead. She could kill them but they would regenerate and return alive again and what made it worse was that Persolis summoned skeletons, walking corpses and mad necromancers from the ruins and the dust.

When the threads are two, one is already chosen. You’re not the one, Persolis, and Fate does not befit you, of course…” A cataclysmic and enormous voice came from the monument at the top of the ruins.

Everyone stopped after hearing that, it was as if the Truth was already revealed to them. Persolis was the most shocked as he heard the voice saying his name and declaring that he was never the chosen one.

The ground trembled and the various towering buildings started to crumble. All the eyes were focused at the highest monument as a peculiar pillar of light grew from it and propagated toward the sky. Black clouds sprawled across the sky and around the pillar. The air grew heavy as if all the life it carried was gone, suffocating everyone around.

A might crackle of thunder, rolled from the tower of light and caused a storm that would havoc anything around.

No one knew how much time did pass since then. All the once gigantesque dungeons were no more than ash and stone expect for the temple of the Thunderer who still stood out. Atop it, a humanoid figure was observing this beautiful sight. He had blonde and long hair, a muscular build with an attire of very ancient times adorned with images of oak and eagles. But what was notorious about him was a black axe and eyes shining with the might of the storms.

From the sands, the abomination appeared as she was buried by the effect of this catastrophe. The Thunderbirds and the walking dead were either buried or shattered to pieces and could not revive anymore much to her wonder. Persolis was however lamenting himself as he was bleeding intensely. The monster approached him as she was willing to finish him off no matter what but he did not care about her at all.

“The crown … bring me… my crown. I don’t have it… I don’t have it anymore. Ahh, Great Thunderer, why did you reject my offering? Why did you take my own threads? As if you already don’t have enough of them?” Muttered Persolis as he was touching his head. Once he sensed the steps of his hunteress, he stared at her with empty eyes, literally having no substance and just hollow while the blood was drippling from them.

“Heheh… Huntress… This… This is even beyond my understanding, me… Ramon Persolis, the most accomplished scholar and necromancer in this world…And you shall give up too as the fool you are.” He gibbered with that before collapsing to his own doom. A scroll appeared like a growing flower from his back at the position of his heart, it was perhaps what the Huntress was looking for.

The abomination was a moment away from grabbing the scroll, however, she felt a huge and insane pressure coming from behind. In fact, it made her freeze completely.

What do we have here? Few losers defiling my kingdom during my slumber and quite the losers indeed.” It was that person who was setting at the roof of the lone standing temple.

The second she decided to attack him, she never found him. He was nowhere to be seen. The Abomination felt lost and quite threatened.

I’m still behind you.” The Giant Man was again behind her. It was as if he was toying with her and not only that, she felt as she could never see that being or rather could not bear to do. If she tried to turn her head to see him, a sense of dread would overwhelm her instinct and prevent her from doing so.

Thus, she used her necromantic magic and spread some form of poison which pissed off this heavenly being and made him mad enough to cut her into two halves with his black axe.

The most thing I had ever hated, necromancy. You dare use that in my presence?” The Thunderer was really angry but much to his amazement, he saw the two halves of this abomination reunifying themselves desperately despite the deadly blow it received.

Strange. Something that can resist my divine lightning is still existing. Hmm… This monstrosity is somehow familiar.” The Thunderer approached the Abomination as she was trying to heal herself and grabbed her with his right hand from the head and gazed at her eyes.

Let me see… Ah! I see now. So that whore succeeded into securing a new pawn and I thought she was a goner. That damn witch!And what a poor soul we have here! Blame your very steps for reaching such a state of misery and despair, cursed one!”

With his left hand, he seizured her head , as if he was taking on a bottle , and started pressuring it. Despite that it did not look like he was using much force, the act made the monster scream in agony.

A little longer and we will all be one in one Fate.” Said the Thunderer.

Suddenly, he stopped what he was going to do as he blocked a bolt of lightning coming from the half-dead Persolis.

“OH HO! You still have some life left in you and  dare provoke me with my own blessing?” Said the Thunderer as he threw away the Abomination and changed his focus toward the wounded Persolis.

I did everything to please you and gain that blessing of yours. Since the moment I knew about the Immortals, I have chosen you because you are the strongest and most noble of all of them. Surely you would rage at this rotten world and surely you would refuse the curses that inflicted it… And yet… you refused me… even though I worked my best to become a successful pawn for you, Great Thunderer, Dragon Slayer and mighty Warrior of the Storm, one of the legendary three heroes who saved the land long ago from the curse of Fate itself!” Said Persolis barely.

The Thunderer clapped warmly at him and said:

Hehe, nice. I respected you, Persolis and I believed strongly that you would be without a doubt my next heir. I was ready to ignore the fact that you’re not from my bloodline and would accept your Karma at all costs because of your worthiness but in the end you had disappointed me.” Explained the Thunderer.

“I see… so after all …the Immortals do not know a heck about Fate.” The broken voice of Persolis showed signs of mockery.

And you think you can provoke me with such nonsense. Too bad for you that you will never become Immortal and taste True Knowledge about the Cosmos. But I will make sure to not let you leave this world peacefully.” Said the Thunderer as he grabbed the dying necromancer.

“Do whatever you want. I have nothing to lose anymore.” Said Persolis.

That what disappointed me. You knew that you would fail from the beginning. You never had true faith in me or your Fate and this is why you lose.” Then the Dragon Slayer proceeded to open his head and ripped off the upper part like a vial of wine. Subsequently, his hand extracted a lot of strings from his skull and its veins consumed them.

“Enjoy your stay in the edge of the Void, Persolis. Now, let’s see. These two are not the only ones here but well, they can never be a threat to begin with.” Said the Thunderer as he threw away the lifeless husk that was once Persolis.

In the opposite side, it seemed that the Abomination ran out of steam and returned into her previous form, the Huntress. She was unconscious and her face was divided into two parts, a right human part and a left ugly and demonic part. Now, she was under complete mercy of that ‘divine’ creature.

“What a failure you had created, Witch Queen. I thought that you can do much better than this one. Well, your power is not going to be tasty anyway.” Bragged the giant as he was going to do the same to her.

But he stopped in the last second as he sensed an imminent threat coming without really knowing its exact location. He stared around, searching for it but he realized quickly that it was coming from above.

An armored horse was neighing and charging in midair and on board was an uncanny undead knight whose helm and engraved armour were emitting arcane jade radiation. His sword was mysterious and powerful and resembled a leafless tree in the autumn in the way that countless metallic ‘veins’ were dancing around in the volume of the blade.

The Thunderer threw the girl away and blocked the attacker using his black axe that was capable of repelling his charge with considerable ease.

The Knight and his horse restored their balance and stood in front of their foe and each side started planning their next move.

“Perun.” Said the Horseman.

Oh, this voice…It can’t be. Melvim, the Coward Prince! I thought you have been consumed è but you’re here well and sane! What business do you have here in my kingdom?” Said the Thunderer.

“Nothing. I was sleeping, without rest, until someone woke me up and so I decided to search for her. However, my destiny had let me to meet you here in the Underworld where we can settle the score without fear of harming the waking world.” Said the Horseman.

But does the waking world matter even now? All of them shall die…not die only but die and live, die and live and die and live forever for the scum they are! My kin betrayed their duty and abandoned their honour for silly worldly desires! I can’t forgive them and I’m going to curse all of them!!” Said Perun the Thunderer angrily.

“You’re mad as always.” Said Melvim.

And do you want to join them too? Do I look like I’m in a good mood to just chit-chat?” Perun said while starting to glow with lightning.

“I don’t want to face the Thunder Hero. Not gonna happen in a million of years. So I’ll be taking that afflicted woman out of here and we’ll be gone in no time. That’ll be our little secret.” Said Melvim as he was taking a firm grip in his sword.

The thing I hate the most is when someone tries to take what is not theirs.” Declared Perun with his left arm pulling an arrow of electricity from his veins.

The battle began. The Horse galloped around the Warrior while its rider was blocking Perun’s arrows of lightning. Then the Thunderer challenged the speed of the Horseman and was propagating at his side with a similar agility. They exchanged blows without a rest until the Perun kicked the horse and made them roll into the sand.

Too slow…too damn slow, Melvim! Even if you’re an Immortal, you’re still a loser, pitiful!” Mocked Perun.

Melvim saw that this Undead horse was ‘electrified’ and unable to move again so he stabbed it with his sword and made it consume it. The Immortal Knight took a solid stance in preparation to fight the Warrior of the Storm. His foe was approaching him carelessly with his guard open, Melvim charged at him with a blinding speed but Perun blocked as if it was nothing and struck him with the handle of his axe and added a ‘thunder’ punch to it that flinged him for some meters ahead.

I thought I will be getting some sport from you but you’re no more than a little snack. Quite the disappointment.” Perun struck his foe’s head with his axe and charged it with an electricity to an insane level that made the knight evaporate into ash. “And how did your false Immortality help you now, coward prince?” Added the Thunderer.

However, there was something he did not notice before, something never came to his head. What was it, that sword of Melvim? He never remembered that his foe had such a weapon with peculiar design. The blade was flying around with the dust that was once the Undead Knight but its motion was strange it was as if it was taking its aim toward Perun and preparing itself to thrust him. The Thunderer realized that the whole threat came from that very sword and when he was trying to block it, the ash reassembled itself into Melvim again and so he attacked Perun from behind too.

What?!!” Said Perun with great shock. “Aghhh!!” Suffered the Thunderer as he was pierced in the stomach with the sword alongside Melvim who restrained him.

You bastard! What is this sword capable of?!” Asked Perun in pain.

“Ending the legacy of an Immortal.” Said Melvim while suffering too.

Perun dismantled Melvim from his back and threw him away and tried to get rid of the sword but the weapon already infested his flesh with unearthly dark tendrils.

Impo-ssible…How could this happen to the strongest of the Immortals? Curse you Melvim!!!” Finally the Thunderer took the sword off his body and so the weapon returned to be wielded by his owner.

Perun kneeled to the ground feeling tremendous agony that he had never felt since a long time: The fear of dying and doom. He, who thought he became beyond life and death, was now facing the harsh reality again.

“Perhaps, if I was not coward, that sword would have finished you the moment it touched your essence… Alas I’m a feeble one as you can see.” Said Melvim as he also relied on the weapon to stay still.

The two otherworldly being were regaining a breath that might not exist basically. But from not far for them they realized that there were three beings were heading toward their location.

“Very good.” Said Melvim.

It was Lazlo and Boran carrying an asleep Acina at his back. They made their best to reach the center of this world and they succeeded in doing so despite an incredible horror that possessed them the more they stepped toward the promising tomb. Their hearts felt indeed the clashing between unspeakable powers.

“Are you sure about that, old man?” Said Lazlo.

“Yeah, this must be the right place, but… it seemed that it was destroyed completely due to it being the center of that Thunder Bolt.” Replied Boran.

The party reached the basin of the sand but the moment they tried to move further, Boran stopped Lazlo and said:

“This is where you stop.”

“Ehhh? What?!” said the Herald Knight with surprise.

“A terrifying nightmare is here; don’t you feel it? It’s so hungry for all the souls in existence.” Added Boran as he gave him the duty to carry the maiden and unsheathed his great sword.

Lazlo’s senses sharpened suddenly as if he saw death itself. “What in the earth is this unspeakable power?!… This is able to end the world itself.” Thought Lazlo.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

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A student of Computer Science Engineering from ENICAR. He stumbled upon an epiphany, very suddenly and quite by accident. Here we stand, feet planted in the earth, looking to the sky and searching for heavens...but might the truth be very near us, only just within ourselves?

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Chapter 3 : Odysseus, The Fever of war.

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The heavy wooden door slowly opened to a vast candlelit hall. My gaze slowly adjusted to the dancing lights as they shimmered and burned on the tall onyx walls. The lack of a throne and the absence of courtsmen were the only things that shifted the thought of it being a room of royalty, yet everything else pointed to such. The hall seemed to go on for miles and nothing indicated an end to it, and what seemed to be a hundred tapestries hung down on either side of me. Their presence was mighty, as the colours of every tapestry were highlighted by the flame of the massive sconces that adorned the walls. They radiated life and I half thought they could speak, until they did.

 

All tapestries were knit with a scene of a heroic story, and as the door closed behind me, the eyes on every character of each story shifted towards me. The silence of the hall broke as they all started to whisper in unison. I must return to Ithaca, shrieked a man on every tapestry that seemed to be a part of all of them. The scene made me jolt with shock, but eventually my ears were accustomed to the murmur of the pictures and I made myself walk to see what secrets they hold.

 

The first tapestry on my right depicted a young man in his early twenties standing beneath a tall olive tree. His long auburn hair draped broad muscular shoulders that portrayed a life of labour and his beard framed a distinctive square jaw. His crimson tunic was tied to his waist with a golden belt and his black hooded cape brushed the hill he stood on as he looked down on a great field filled with cattle.On his back hung a mighty oaken bow with gilded tips and a quiver full of arrows. His eyes flamed with a sense of wits and cunning, and as locked his eyes with mine, he seemed to read into my soul. He smiled amicably as he started to speak.

“Greetings, friend. Do you require guidance?”

“Guidance is the only thing I require. But first, may I ask you who you are? I must admit your appearance is quite puzzling.” I answered, looking forward to his response.

“My apologies.” laughed the man, “I am not the shepherd you might think I am, if only that were true. I am Odysseus, Son of Laertes and Prince of Ithaca.”

“And why does someone of royalty need to tend to goats and sheep?” I asked as my intrigue grew.

“If you spoke to a prince of Mycenae in this manner, they would have your tongue in pieces before the end of your sentence.” replied Odysseus smiling, “But this is not Mycenae. My father taught me to know my land in order for me to rule it. Besides, I grew fond of these fields, the peace helps me think.”

“And what trouble do you have on your mind?” I asked.

“The war, my dear friend. A great war is coming and I am to be asked to hold a vow I took nigh on ten years ago. To be truthful, I am not keen on fighting. I am accustomed to the dull life of Ithaca and I do not wish to die only for bards to sing about me to kings I do not know. Heroic deeds are for the foolish and the mad.” sighed the prince as he answered.

 

But you are dead, I thought as I smiled sadly to the young hopeful soul of Odysseus. I decided not to broach the subject and I started walking down the hall to see the rest of the tapestries. The whispers grew louder as I slowly strolled and looked at the marvels of Odysseus’ life. One portrayed the prince wrestling with a boar that had his tusk thrusted deep into his leg. His first taste of battle, I thought bitterly. Another showed Odysseus with his great bow in his arms and an arrow piercing the eye of a wolf sixty yards away. Quite a man, I remarked and my eyes darted to a tapestry showing two men that looked like nothing but the highest of kings, puzzled at the look of Odysseus as he seemed to feign madness. What war can be so dreadful to make a prince act like a fool? I pondered, then I saw the one right next to it, with the picture of the prince ending his charade as he looked at his young children standing in front of a running carriage.

 

And so Odysseus took up arms and armour and sailed to war. My heart broke bit by bit as I saw the once Shepherd Prince of Ithaca grow wearier and warier as the years turned. His auburn hair started to whiten little by little as new scars marked his body on every new tapestry, each with its own story, and the whispers grew into screams with every step of my walk. I saw him wrestling heroes thrice his size and locked in arms with a dozen warriors. He appeared calm when other kings were in fits of rage and he looked stern when disciplining his men. As the war made other kings into heroes, it made Odysseus into a soldier.

 

I walked further down, witnessing the atrocities of a war that never seemed to end. Visions of dismembered bodies and rotten flesh made my skin crawl as I saw what the gods have inflicted upon the greek. I saw plagues turn kings into hollow corpses and bring the youth to their deathbeds before they saw the world. Dreams shattered and hopes crumbled and Odysseus stood vigil, and slowly his soul kept on fading. 

 

Then I stood staring at the mighty Trojan Horse, standing high on the ruins of Troy. the city burned and Odysseus’ eyes burned with it. The Best of the Greeks, he was named after the death of Achilles, and he wore the title like a badge of honour. The war went on for ten bitter years and what would become of the Shepherd Prince was a matter I was aching to discover.

 

My feet began to pick up pace as I made my way down the hall. I must return to Ithaca, rang like bells in my head, half driving me to madness, and the fires started to dim as Odysseus set sail and embarked on his journey home. I could see a thousand dreams in his broad smile and the laughter of his men, but his eyes betrayed a sense of sadness that I could not understand. Unease pushed me closer to the tapestry and words I did not think to say slipped through my lips.

“Congratulations on a war well fought, Prince Odysseus.” I initiated. 

“I haven’t been a prince for ten years.” he replied, smiling, as his eyes locked with mine. “A decade listening to the barking of Menelaus and Agamemnon and you forget you are royalty. But now all is done and soon, if the gods are good, I once again will be the prince of goats and rocks.”

“May the winds be fair to you and your own.” I sincerely wished, as the thrill of his story made me forget my death and his.

“If they are not, my dear wife Penelope would fight Zeus himself for a fast voyage. God I miss her, and little Telemachus would be a grown man by now.” He daydreamed, and as I saw that the tapestries did not end, sadness pushed me from answering and I walked away from the tapestry. 

 

The whispers started to ebb as I watched his journey through seas that did not seem to end. The tapestries put forth a story that was a harsher hell for Odysseus than the underworld could ever be. His men kept on dying one by one as they fought with cannibals and Cyclopes. Hunger withered their strength and the storms of the Mediterranean Sea sealed their fate. They landed on a hundred islands and none of them Ithaca, as the winds disoriented them like they were toys for the gods. They found kindness in witches and slavery in Nymphs. Sleep was scarce, for Odysseus no longer trusted his own soldiers. A soldier who never left the war, I thought sourly. 

 

As I watched Odysseus turn grey with age and hardship, the black walls of the cave seemed to shake with the sound of pounding heartbeats. I felt like the hall almost came to an end, for the fires almost turned to cinders. Near the end, I was met with a tapestry that would have broken my heart to pieces if I had one. The fates made it so Odysseus was to see the Underworld before his own demise. I saw the Prince of Ithaca on the edge of this hideous realm, surrounded by the souls of all the soldiers that fought beside him. He saw Ajax, Achilles, Patroclus and every warrior lost in the battles of Troy, and all looked more alive than Odysseus. The pounding heart thundered mightily and I knew that the Best of the Greeks carried their memory on his shoulders every way he went.

 

The fires died out on my long march down the hall and I knew he reached the end. Feelings of both grief and thrill rose through me, for I desperately wanted to know if the poor soldier returned to his home. The last tapestry hanging down the walls of Odysseus’ shrine was the biggest, and with it the heartbeats sounded like drums of war. The prince that dreamed of being a shepherd was once again standing on the hills of Ithaca. His hair was bleached with the horrors he endured and his back was bent with decades of loss and sorrow. His battle scars were covered in armour and he could not keep still as he paced around with his rusty sword in hand. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I reluctantly approached the King of Ithaca.

I must return to Ithaca!” yelled Odysseus with the harshest of voices.

“But you made it, King Odysseus, you made it to your home.” I replied gravely.

“No, no, no, not this barren island. This is not my home. The hills, they do not feel the same. I cannot find peace beneath these trees and so this must not be Ithaca. Wherever I run, I hear them. A thousand hearts beating like hammers in my head and I cannot stop them. I cannot stay in these lands any longer. Athena has not called upon me in years and I long for her callings. I prayed and I prayed for peace, yet no god has blessed me, why didn’t they? I was the Best of the Greeks and I must return to Ithaca, Ithaca, Ithaca…” there was madness in his words as he spoke, and I knew Odysseus was no longer.

I jumped away from the tapestry, as my mind can no longer handle the cruel stream of thought that haunts Odysseus through every moment of his death. The war ended in Troy but it lived on in Odysseus, and who were unlucky enough to survive it. He was shaped by battle and broken by grief, and I closed my eyes and prayed long for this soldier to finally find his peace.

 

 

Written by : Hachem Saihi.

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