Chapter One
It Came From Ray-Gor
Sapphira, it’s a place of endless opportunity, one where dreams are born, and fantasy becomes reality. Here, one can learn from the ancients, studying their ways through the last remaining libraries, which had escaped the destruction of Flar’s brutal conquest. And through this knowledge, the Tenshi have been granted a set of skills, which has now become forbidden for the other lands to access.
It’s for this reason, that immigrants from all across the world have fled to Sapphira, seeking an escape from the tyranny of Flar’s sinister reign. Most have made it to the Tenshi’s shores, while those that do, perish to the blades of the Akra who await them. And yet they still come, seeking a better life, forging a symbiotic relationship with their newfound home; one which strengthens their numbers while improving upon their knowledge of what lies just beyond their secluded homeland.
For every new person, there’s a new soldier to replenish their military or a brand new genius to bolster their science division, a new chef for their kitchens, and a new vendor for their markets. The list is seemingly endless with possibility, and thus, Sapphira has grown in both power and innovation through a means, that no one could’ve ever truly imagined. For their revolution of science and machinery has pushed their society forward, granting them access to things that might not be discovered for decades if not centuries to come.
Yet their growing technological might has done far more than grant them stronger infrastructure for their cities, or more stable power grids to light their civilized world. For their science has granted them the ability to shift the tide in an endless war; one which has transcended time and haunted their people since before the births of their sons and daughters. It’s a war that gave birth to their nation; a battle which they never had the means to escape, until now.
For the tides of the Tenshi Akra War had finally begun to change, shifting in the favor of the Tenshi as the emperor marched his troops across the plains of battle. His artillery could now strike an enemy encampment from several miles away, destroying the enemy’s outward defenses and decimating their first wave of soldiers. Innovation had rendered the need for horses obsolete, as his cavalry drove forward into the future with a fleet of unstoppable war machines, weapons of mass destruction, which could withstand the might of the Akra’s most powerful weapons, and thus, counter them with cannons that could destroy entire battalions of their enemy’s most elite soldiers.
And in rare instances, when the Akra could withstand such a tremendous assault, Emperor My-Lo of the Tenshi would simply respond with an infantry of his own samurai, each possessing swords that were wrapped in electrical fury with guns that could fire bullets which could strike a foe with greater strength and speed than even the swiftest of arrows.
And yet, the Akra remained a clan of warriors, so bound to the lessons of their founder, Count Dray-Gon the Merciless; that they were left blinded to the inevitability of their defeat. For unbeknownst to them, the noble emperor of the Tenshi had begun a campaign, which would last for over a year, slowly forcing the Akra deeper and deeper into the outskirts of the island. To a place which would sever their connection to their demonic ancestors, stripping them of their unholy powers as they marched towards the Lands of Sonsho. This would be the land of their doom, where the ruthless Akra would find themselves destroyed by a force much greater than their indomitable wills.
For that reason, all across the Tenshi Kingdom, fireworks lit the skies, basking their midnight shadows in neon lights as stars filled the night with their cosmic wonder. Fireworks painted Sapphira's blend of cultures in fleeting neon brilliance, their glow reflecting the unity its people fought so hard to protect.
And now their banners were raised towards the heavens, as the people danced their way through the streets, spending their earnings on senseless merchandise and delectable foods as street vendors stood by their carts with hands outstretched, eager to collect their fees like vultures, circling their prey. But tonight was the night when money was meaningless, and work was optional. For tonight was a celebration, one which might never come again, as the rich and the poor dined together as one, drunk by the same wines as they shared a dance amongst the nobility.
From a bird’s eye view, the streets were crowded like an ocean of waving hands, whose cheers were loud enough to reach The Kingdom itself as though they were cheering for The King Himself. And yet, despite the joyous chaos, there remained one constant; a looming Pagoda, which served as the home of the nobles since the founding of the empire. It was a symbol of the empire’s strength, serving as a light that the people could turn to in times of darkness.
Yet the ancient palace had barely changed in its long existence, only upgrading its outdated technologies with the renovations of the modern era. For the Pagoda was meant to be a force that was fierce like the tiger, with a richness that echoed the wealth that their nation could provide.
For it was here that Emperor My-Lo could emerge from his throne room and speak to his people; his voice when paired with the royal observatory’s audio equipment could be heard, booming through the kingdom like a cascade of raging thunder. But tonight, the observatory sat empty, for there was no speech that could strengthen nor curve the nation’s enthusiasm.
Yet the sounds of the festivities remained inescapable for a lone warrior such as Akio Kenshi; who moved through the grand halls of the Pagoda palace with an almost sinister demeanor, his silent steps were a stark contrast to the clamorous revelry around him. His expression was devoid of joy, as he walked through the crowds, struggling to disappear as his shoulders knocked the various partygoers aside.
For the sounds of their drunken cries, as he brushed past them, were almost deafening as they continued their senseless tangos. Their senses had long been dulled by the power of their wine, as he escaped with little resistance. For the air was too thick with incense and laughter by those who’d fallen too deep into their cups to remember the costs of victory. For he knew that the Akra would never go quiet, and thus, tomorrow would serve as the battle, which would transform the Lands of Sonsho into nothing more than a foreboding graveyard; for only death could transcend the hatred that both nations had long since harbored against one another.
And as Akio moved forward, his gaze remained focused on the crowd around him. As his eyes watched their faces with a silent intensity. His vision remained sharp and observant as he caught glimpses of the revelers in their silken robes, jewels flashing in the electrical glow of their everlasting lights.
It was here where he saw the nobles, who served and advised the emperor, acting as his knowledge in the areas where his expertise was lacking. For despite their bundle of vastly differing views and opinions; they still succeeded in combining their collective wisdom into a council that fulfilled the emperor’s needs, whether they be political, economic, or even militaristic. For it was an assembly of generals, royals, agricultural experts, and financial advisors. Each one could be found somewhere within the Pagoda, hiding amongst the hordes of people, but to the well-trained eyes of a warrior such as Akio; their locations could be tracked with nothing more than a simple glance.
For he’d spent time learning their habits, studying their movements as he tracked their placement within the crowds. His eyes were immediately drawn to the arrogant yet cowardly general of the Tenshi. For Shig was a man who’d led countless warriors into battle, yet returned home with nothing more than losses in place of gains. Yet the emperor would reward him with a medal for his bravery while ignoring the weakness of his tactics. Thus, Shig would return to Sapphira from his campaigns with nothing more than false glories and senseless rewards. Yet now, like most nights, he stands drunk from sacred wine as he flirts with the women who serve to remind him of his youth. Seeing it only strengthened Akio’s hatred for the man.
And then there was Abish. He was a Minister of Property, and as his title would suggest; he’s a man of expensive tastes, so it was no surprise that he would be off with the elites, bragging about their wealth as they laughed at the little people. For Akio had never met a man whose greed was greater than Abish’s. And for that reason, he always sought to avoid the man’s company.
As for Lee-San, she never left the royal family’s side. For she was the woman who made sure the Pagoda was maintained and its affairs ran smoothly. But to do this, she had to be ruthless, oftentimes alienating the palace staff as her yells for perfection echoed throughout the Pagoda’s interior. Her temper was spoken of in secret by the servants of the nobility, yet no one dared to report her cruelty. Yet Akio hated her most of all because she was a vindictive and traitorous woman; whose actions resulted in the torture of countless prisoners of war.
But despite this, Akio shifted his focus away from My-Lo’s advisors, instead looking towards his daughter, Princess Kay-Li. For he’d been tasked with watching over her in these troubling times. So, he buried his thoughts towards the others and narrowed his eyes, watching as she sat on her dais; her face was marked by a serene smile, which masked the storm of emotions that churned within. All it took was a simple glance, and he could read her every thought. For he’d come to understand her views, and through that knowledge, he’d come to recognize the simple gestures that she would often employ to hide her frustrations. For she too could see the absurdity of such opulence on the eve of bloodshed.
Regardless, the Tenshi Empire would celebrate, knowing that tomorrow, they would send their legions into the Land of Sonsho, hoping to end a war that had claimed the lives of generations. Yet Akio couldn’t help but doubt the emperor’s arrogance, for he was not the first emperor who’d believed the war was at its end. And as the young samurai entered the palace observatory, sealing the door behind him; he couldn’t help but feel an inescapable dread wash over him. For a bitter taste had filled his mouth as he approached the narrow runway, stepping out onto the looming catwalk. His eyes now focused on the stars as he walked towards the massive glass-like platform, as he looked out, watching the spectacle.
For his eyes shone with an almost cosmic glow as he admired the vastness of the night. In a way, he felt at peace within its shadowy delight. Yet he knew such pleasures would never truly last. For tomorrow, still brought the wickedness of war, but this time, it would serve as the harbinger of the Tenshi’s demise. For those who celebrated, side by side with the ones he’d come to know were oblivious to the doom that fast approached them. Yet the thought of Sapphira’s defeat brought him pause as he looked out towards the vast city, pondering the fates of those he’d grown to care for.
For Akio Kenshi was not truly a member of their nation, but rather a disguise crafted to infiltrate their ranks. For his true identity was one which they’d all come to know and fear, for his exploits on the battlefield were infamous when spoken from the lips of the Tenshi. And although he'd been called by many names over his seemingly immortal lifespan; his true name remained that of Prince Ashitaka Ichiro. For he was a man who was born to be ruthless and unfeeling; the circumstances of his unique birth, granting him demonic powers which he used to slaughter the Akra’s sworn enemies on the battlefield.
It was a feat he’d done without hesitation for over a century, yet now, there was a strange sensation that was enough to bring him pause.
So, he simply closed his eyes and listened, hearing the sounds of every toast that was raised, every cheer echoing through the vast halls; they were sounds which only served to heighten his disgust. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder how they could celebrate when death loomed so near.
And as he opened his eyes, observing their smiles through the window; he couldn’t help but see their genuine, if not misguided hope. Yet it was their joy which truly began to haunt him; almost taunting him with the enigma that it possessed. For with each thought, he began to waver; his understanding of the world being challenged by the memories he’d forged amongst the Tenshi. In his ears, he could now hear the laughter he had shared with them, the lives he’d fought to protect—they had all left a mark on him. Conflicting emotions churned within his heart like a tempest as fierce as the Akra who would greet the emperor at dawn.
Yet Ashitaka’s hand remained rested on the hilt of his katana; his mind still stumped by the truth which plagued him. For now, he remained unsure of himself, torn between his mission and the people that he’d come to know, especially the emperor’s daughter, Princess Kay-Li. For it was her voice that filled his ears and her playful smile which flashed against his thoughts; her kindness, serving as a virus which corrupted his heart and weakened his resolve.
“So, what’s the point of a bodyguard who abandons his post,” a voice jokingly asked.
Akio quickly turned, falling onto one knee as he bowed his head in shame. The voice of Princess Kay-Li was more than enough to knock him off guard, pulling him back to reality.
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” he answered, slowly looking up towards her playful grin.
“You’ve never been one for crowds, have you?” she teased, though her voice carried a softness, which made Akio question if her senses had truly detected his discomfort.
“I apologize Your Highness, but I’ve just never been one for celebrations, especially when they’re held on the eve of battle.”
“Do you truly think I understand any of this, Akio? Even I struggle to find meaning in such excess,” she said with a chuckle, gracefully making her way down the runway. She then grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. “Oh, and Akio…”
The young samurai raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in bewildered confusion as he looked into her eyes. “Yes?”
“Don’t call me Your Highness, that’s what they call my mother and you know me way better than that,” she said, returning his gaze.
“Fair enough,” he said with a chuckle, nodding his head as the two pulled back, turning their attention back towards the window. Together, they watched the exploding fireworks and followed the hustle and bustle of the still-crowded streets. And for a moment, there was silence between them as Akio once more felt at peace. His conflicted emotions were finally at ease as he looked towards her; her gaze still focused on the city as a smile crept across his face.
“It’s…”
“Beautiful,” she answered, looking towards him. Her eyes sparkled with innocence as the two shared one another’s gaze. His heart, seemingly skipped a beat as he felt his hand begin to tremble. He could tell from the slight giggle, which escaped her lips, that she too saw his hesitation.
So, she reached out, taking his hand inside of her own. Akio’s face quickly grew red as his cheeks turned warm with embarrassment. His eyes grew wide as he quickly looked away. Kay-Li’s laugh almost immediately filled the room as he slowly turned his expression back toward his arm. He could feel her grip begin to tighten around his hand. Together, they turned back towards the city, before Kay-Li leaned her head against Akio’s armored shoulder.
“Isn’t this so much better than the war,” she asked.
For a moment, Akio had no answer; his eyes drifting down toward his katana, as the roars of cannons echoed against his eardrums. The horrid images of war flashed within his thoughts as he recalled the many soldiers who’d been killed on the fields of a never-ending battlefield. His mind remembers a time in which he’d yearned for battle, yet now, he dreaded its arrival. So, he leaned his head down against her own in response, and together, they watched the fireworks.
And for what felt like hours, they sat there, watching the lights of the festivities. But eventually, those lights began to dim and as the party began to die, so too did the celebratory noises. Finally the drunk started to sleep, and the street vendors returned home to count their earnings, while the workers readied themselves for another shift to recover their lost wages. Yet one thing remained constant, the silent cuddling of Akio and Kay-Li, who sat watching the fading stars.
For the two lovebirds felt as though they’d experienced something they’d never experienced before. Both wished they’d held the power to stop time; to delay its forward marching nature, as they celebrated this seemingly endless moment, praying that it would never truly end.
“Do you have to go,” Kay-Li asked, her voice almost as quiet as a whisper.
“I do,” he answered. “But I’m not sure I want to, which is strange because…”
Slowly, he closed his eyes and sighed. The words he’d wanted to say simply never came as he shook his head in silence. The princess could sense his plight, and thus, she lifted her head, looking up into his conflicted eyes as he pulled back, standing to his feet.
“Akio,” she asked, reaching out her hand.
But Akio was slow to answer; his eyes still focused on the first light of dawn as it touched the horizon, a sense of unease in his chest.
For victory was a fleeting thing in a war that’s lasted this long, for today’s battle might prove to strip away all the smiles of those he’d come to know, including the one he loved.
Yet the crackle of fireworks faded, replaced by the creaking of wood and the distant lapping of waves. The festival was years gone, a distant memory, yet its echoes haunted the waking dreams of the lone figure aboard the ship.
“Hey mister,” a voice hesitantly said. His tone was both quiet and fearful as he slowly reached out. His hand trembled as he prepared himself to touch the still-sleeping man. For the captain had seen battle before, which had served to strengthen him. Yet when faced with the sight of this demonic warrior; he froze. The presence of this man was more than enough to send a cold shiver down his spine as he stood paralyzed to act. But finally, he found the strength to move, as he reached out, but suddenly, the man came alive, grabbing his hand as he turned towards the captain.
He then released his grip, standing to his feet. Slowly, the warrior reached into his belt, silently tossing a couple of golden coins, which the captain caught with relative ease as he studied the demon’s unnatural movements. For there was a sinister aura to his presence as he walked past the man, disappearing into the upper levels of the ship, leaving the captain to remove his hat. A strong sense of regret now filled his spirit as he shook his head, worried about the future of Sapphira. His eyes now focused on the man’s payment as he turned towards the stairwell; fearful of the consequences of his actions.
For six years had passed since the war’s end, but the scars it left were much deeper than the stranger could have possibly imagined as he exited the captain’s vessel, disappearing into the crowds of hopeful refugees.
“Did I say you could rest, maggot,” a Tenshi soldier yelled out, whipping a man who’d fallen ill with exhaustion. His back now stung with the agony of the blow as he reached out, his hands still trembling as he pleaded for the samurai’s mercy. But the man remained deaf to his pleas as he approached him, kicking the poor miner across the face as he watched him collapse onto the cold and rocky gravel.
He then reached out, grabbing the man’s now bloody dirt-stained tunic as he lifted him saying, “You best remember your place Akra filth! Now get to work!!!” The Quartermaster quickly threw the man back towards the ground before returning his gaze to the rest of the workers. Each one looked no better off than the other as he yelled for them to resume their stations. Upon hearing the soldier’s voice, they quickly snapped back to work, striking the seemingly impenetrable stone as sweat dripped from their brows, ignoring the man who lay bleeding against the dirt and gravel.
For these were the mines of Ray-Gor. A place where the dirt is stained in the blood of the Akrian civilians who were cursed to work there, doomed to suffer the torture of the Tenshi for the sole crime of simply being born to the enemy’s clan. For the Akra were once a proud race of warriors, but now they are nothing more than beggars, starving as they plead for mercy; a shadow of their former selves, a slave to another’s will, as they work, praying for a savior to deliver them from evil.
But this remained a day just like any other, and thus, the people worked, fighting for what little money they could earn. For the Tenshi forced them to work for the scraps at their table; a food which could barely sustain them as the conditions of the mines left them ill with sickness and disease. As the days passed, their supplies only dwindled as starvation and plague claimed the lives of their sons and daughters. Yet the Tenshi remained unfeeling towards their plight as they continued to beat them, extorting their efforts like an abusive relationship to fuel their ever-growing empire.
For this was the punishment of their defeat, a life of enslavement in which there was no escape. Their shackles bound to a clan, which would like nothing else than to watch their extinction. For the Tenshi had sworn their lives to their Sacred King, a ruler who embodied many things such as love and forgiveness. Yet there would be no redemption for the Akra, for as long as the Tenshi drew breath; there would be no peace between them. For they were dogs in the eyes of the Kingdom of Sapphira, and thus, the Tenshi viewed them as their inferior. A belief they’ve shared since the inception of their empire, and with the defeat of the Akrian prince came validation of that centuries-long belief.
And as they worked, the Quartermaster stood there, listening to the sounds of the Akrian miners as they groaned in agony; his sinister grin almost giddy with glee as he watched them struggle to summon the strength to raise their axes higher. Yet the man remained impatient, waiting for some kind of discovery to be made. Perhaps a portion of his frustrations could be explained by his impatience, or perhaps there was something much more vengeful that was festering just beneath the surface of his cruel and hateful demeanor.
Suddenly, one of the miners struck a large stone, which led to the collapse of several. The Quartermaster quickly turned towards the sound of the ensuing rubble. His eyes were more focused on the cavern that the miner had just uncovered rather than the safety of his now-fallen worker.
“E-Lay,” one of the miners yelled, rushing over to aid the elderly man; who lay struggling against the debris.
By now, several of the Akrian miners had come forward to begin helping their wounded elder. Yet the Quartermaster continued onwards, ignoring their pleas for help as he entered the newly revealed tunnel. His eyes were wide with spectacle as he ventured deeper into the still-darkened tomb.
“Well look at this,” he quietly said, reaching into his belt. He then removed his portable lampstick, lighting it to illuminate the shadows as he stepped further into the mysterious cavern.
At first, he was unsure of what exactly he was seeing. His eyes drifting from broken columns and arcane writings as he stepped forward, studying the strange treasures; his hand now gripping the hilt of his sword as he stepped on the bones of the fallen men and women who died to construct this forgotten tomb.
He then approached a large throne, which sat carved out of damaged rocks and broken stones. Yet the thing that most intrigued him about its mystical appearance was the corpse, which sat resting on its cold exterior.
For the half-decayed man was clad in a majestic battle armor decorated with ancient Akrian symbols of power. Yet the Quartermaster could see the stains of blood, which still painted his heavily damaged armor. So, the man relaxed his grip on his weapon, approaching the slain warrior as he reached out, touching the throne as he bent down to further examine the magical emblems. His eyes were almost squinted as he struggled to read the ancient writings of a people he’d long since grown to hate.
So, he reached out, dusting off its haggard appearance. His hand trembled as though he was hesitant to touch it; worried of what might happen.
“Woe to those who find this throne,” the man quietly began to read. “For he is the King of Power, the Master of Rage; through his vengeance, we are born again as the servants to the almighty demon who’s sought our deliverance. May we kneel before his throne as warriors who are blessed with his might.”
The Quartermaster then rose to his feet and chuckled before spitting on the corpse’s face. “Some king,” he quietly said. His voice was filled with sarcastic humor as he turned to summon the other miners. A faint smile had now filled his face as he pondered the rewards he’d soon receive for this discovery. And yet, as he began to leave; he couldn’t help but stop, frozen by a force, which had brought him pause.
Slowly, he looked down. His eyes were quickly growing wide with fright as he saw the partially skeletal hand, which now sat gripping his shoulder with a newfound strength.
“You dare mock me,” a deep and raspy voice decreed.
“What the…” The Quartermaster yelled, spinning around as he gripped his sword.
And that’s when he saw him. The slain warrior as he stood before him; his half-rotted form now pulsing with demonic energy as he awkwardly approached him. The sound of clanking metal now filled the caverns as the deceased warrior raised his hand pointing towards the Quartermaster.
“You… You who are filled with hatred… You who are bursting with rage towards others. That is why I have awakened… That is why I have come,” the king said. He spoke as though he was gasping for each breath as he approached the now horrified Quartermaster.
“Get back, you demon,” the man yelled, swinging his sword. “Maggots, guards, somebody get down here and help me!!!” He then turned and saw, standing in the distance a group of miners. Each of their weary eyes was filled with disgust as they watched the Quartermaster stumble backward. He yelled out to them once again, but they refused to move; content to watch his fate as the fallen king continued to approach him.
“They will not save you,” the deadman said, grabbing the soldier’s hand. The Quartermaster began to groan as he dropped his sword. “You cannot abuse these people and then demand they save you,” the king said, looking towards the miners. “For they are the broken and the forgotten; their pride is shattered, while their bodies are starved and ill from your intentions.” He then tilted his head as his crimson eyes shined within the darkness.
For the King of Power wanted to see the exhaustion in their faces, the malnourishment of their frames, and the disdain which now fueled their broken expressions. He then looked back towards the Quartermaster and said, “These people look on you and see nothing but a monster, a man who has robbed them of their spirits and stolen their pride. And yet, they look at me, a rotted corpse, and see nothing more than a messiah who’s come to deliver them from evil. Your evil, Quartermaster.”
“What’re you doing,” the soldier cried out, watching as the king’s arcane talisman detached from his arm, crawling down his wrist like some kind of demented spider. Its crimson gemstone glowed with demonic fury as it moved down the man’s arm until eventually, the mad king’s body grew weak and limp, collapsing to the ground as nothing more than a pile of rotted bones.
“What… What’s happening… Happening to me,” the Quartermaster struggled to say. His insides screamed with agony as he gripped his arm, watching as the metallic wire-like legs of the talisman bore into his forearm. The man’s veins slowly began to bulge against his skin as he fell to his knees, crying out in pain as the charm’s demonic gemstone began to pulse with growing power. His eyes then began to shine with a sinister red-colored hue as he yelled out, succumbing to its otherworldly energies.
Slowly, his muscles began to swell, tearing his military uniform as his fingers began to stretch with dagger-like claws. What little hair he had left fell out as large horns erupted from his skull. His teeth began to sharpen as the pain within him began to subside. For his body was rapidly adjusting to the entity’s power as he grew numb to the physical pains of mortal flesh. As he convulsed, his skin began to grow wrinkled with a strange cross between a leathery and metallic-like texture as though portions of his body were being burned away to reveal something much more sinister that lay resting from within.
Finally, the Quartermaster yelled out. His voice was much more animalistic and vengeful than it's ever been before as he grabbed onto his shirt, ripping it off like a feral beast. His almost ram-like appearance when paired with his metallic-looking flesh, granting him a visage of a beast rather than man as he slowly stood to his feet, turning towards the now panicked miners.
“You did this to me,” he angrily snorted as his eyes began to burn a fiery red. “You maggots put a curse on me!!!”
The beast of a man then leapt up, lunging towards the miners. His massive size sent shockwaves through the tunnels as he tackled the miner who’d sought to aid E-Lay just a few moments ago. Yet now, the man known as Ji-Sai lay coughing on his blood, as he struggled to breathe. The Quartermaster’s newfound weight and titanic strength were more than enough to pin him to the ground as the miners raced toward the surface.
Each one of them was screaming for help as they raced towards the approaching light of day. Yet the Quartermaster had his own plans as he picked up Ji-Sai’s wounded body and tossed him towards a group of the still fleeing miners, knocking them to the ground before he roared, picking up a nearby boulder as he threw it towards the still recovering men. The massive rock quickly struck them, sending their bodies smashing through a nearby wall.
“That’s right, die like the cowards you are,” the Quartermaster yelled out. He then looked toward the exit and saw E-Lay, who now stood frozen with fear. The mutated soldier gritted his teeth upon seeing the man before he yelled out, leaping forward as the tunnel began to collapse from the force of his movements.
The elderly man immediately jumped to the side, summoning the last of his strength to do so as his body rolled across the gravel. The tiny rocks sent shivers of discomfort and pain across his weakened body as he lay there, searching for the strength to move.
Slowly, the man struggled to sit up, turning towards the direction of the now-approaching beast of a man as he emerged from the smoke and debris of the once-large mining shaft.
By now, a small crowd of workers had amassed, consisting of groundskeepers and machine users who had all abandoned their stations to assess the current situation. Yet their eyes were stunned as they watched the muscular brute slowly approach them; his skin now steaming with the fires of frustration as he studied the still-growing group.
Behind the workers, came a small squad of soldiers who were once the Quartermaster’s to command as they drew their weapons, poised to strike.
“So, you would defend these barbarians who slaughtered our sons and daughters,” he roared. “You would protect these savages, who killed our brothers and sisters while leaving our wives to burn amongst the wreckage of their conquest?!?”
The soldiers then turned toward one another upon hearing the monster’s words; their faces were now filled with doubt as they looked toward the Akrian workers. Each one now stared back at them with a growing sense of fear as the guards lowered their weapons, accepting the call of their former Quartermaster.
“What’re you…”
“Your kind has made us suffer for generations, Akra filth,” he said, raising his clawed hand towards the still-injured E-Lay. “Like me and all the other Tenshi on this island, we have lost loved ones to your kind, but now I alone have the power to avenge the fallen! I alone can make your people suffer the losses that we have suffered!!!”
Suddenly, a silhouette of a man appeared like a burst of energy, glowing a bright purple hue as it moved with incredible speeds, catching the Quartermaster’s attack before throwing him across the quarry.
There was a loud crash as the brute’s body smashed into the still-moving equipment, collapsing to the ground with a bang.
Slowly, the hulking beast of a man began to rise, looking toward his attacker who stood silently watching; unafraid of the monstrous Quartermaster.
An unholy chill had begun to sweep through the air as the clouds above began to swirl and darken like the coming of a malevolent omen. Quick bursts of lightning began to flash overhead as thunder boomed in its wake. Both the Akra and the Tenshi alike were stunned by this growing darkness as they turned towards the skies; horrified by its sinister visage.
Yet the younger members of the two clans remained unknowing of the identity of this new almost demonic samurai for reasons that one could only guess. For perhaps they were too young to truly remember the events of the war that had ended merely six short years ago or perhaps the actions of the Tenshi had truly beaten them down to the point in which they’d forgotten the crest of their people. But regardless, there lies a man who can see past the darkness and dread, so that he can look upon the emblem of his unholy defender. A glance, which fills his eyes with both shock and amazement as he opens his mouth wide with disbelief.
“Can it be…” E-Lay muttered.
“You,” the Quartermaster angrily said. His voice was deeper now, as though it was no longer him that spoke, but rather the demon which fueled his newfound transformation.
In response, the warrior maintained his silence, which only proved to upset the Quartermaster further as he screamed out. His skin now steamed with an intense heat as if boiling with his anger. The ground beneath his feet had started to blacken as he began stomping his feet, lowering his head like a demented bull or a rampaging ram that was prepared to strike.
“I don’t know why you’ve come back, but this is my island now,” he roared, charging forward. But the man held his ground, waiting for the perfect moment to react as the beast rushed towards him like a deadly comet. Both men’s intentions were clear as everyone around them turned to run away; fearful of the battle that was soon to rock their village.
To Be Continued In: A Legend Retold Empress Kay-Li and the Soul Ripper Book One: Shadows of Sapphira (Part Three) Chapter Two: Thoughts of Treason
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