1 Ascending Nyghtmare (1/2)
Prologue: Prelude to Nyghtmare
A legend that comes from the mouths of many...
One that even sits on the breath of prophets, as if ordained by those very beings of holy blood...
They preach this tale, for it is one of their victory; and the fall of the dark ones...
Over two centuries ago, in the time of old. There was a balance between the forces of light and dark. There were the Rhyme, who were aurora beings, wielding holy based powers. There was also the Amygdala, who were nightmare beings, carrying corrupted abilities. These entities were enemy nations, which came into existence after the chaos caused by the accidental work of scientists, many years before then. They had put aside their differences, so that they could live without further bloodshed.
The Prince of the Amygdala, Lenault Ghestro, was known to have unimaginable dark powers, much like his mother. As soon to be 'Lord of Fiends', it was to be expected that he would take his mother's place, after her death. As the young prince took the throne, he had declared war against Abel Zephos and his kingdom of the aurora beings, for unknown reasons. Lenault took command of the fiends, and brought the battle straight to the Rhyme.
Allied with many kinds of beings, the Rhyme defended their kingdom. However, the Amygdala were not in this on their own, for they too had allies. A war waged for many moons, with countless acts of blood shed, until the Lord of Fiends and his army fell. Immediately, Abel, the king of the aurora beings, declared a new order. He and his bloodline would rule the planet, protecting it from being taken by darkness. In this process, they decided on renaming their world 'Desdemuna'. Many Amygdala were slain for speaking out on the matter, however, several were left alive, if they obeyed the new decree.
The Templar were established to hold the peace, and see to it that any surviving Amygdala were kept in line. More over, they were forced to live a life of solitude, to ensure more uprisings would not occur. If they were to kill or attack anyone, they too would be slain, though, on some occasions other punishments would fall into play. However, the Amygdala weren't the only beings who were treated as lower class citizens.
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Chapter 1: Ascending Nyghtmare
A city was seen from above, with stone buildings and cobblestone streets. The time was midday shown by the clock tower, and by the the sun hanging in the sky. Quick paced boots rushed through those streets, as a cloaked man was fleeing for his life. A chase was commencing, as several Templar soldiers were in pursuit of the unknown man.
”After him!” Shouted the Templar baroness, commanding the others.
One pulled to a cross-bow, firing at the unknown man. Dark magic trailed at his feet, dodging the arrow as it hurled to the ground. The chase had many bystanders panicking, as they rushed to their homes and the local stores of the market. A wanted poster tore from a building they rushed passed, flying fast into a boot of a shadowed figure. Sharp green eyes focused on the pursuit, but they crouched down, taking the poster. The mysterious person took a quick glance at the wanted felon, with a header stating 'wanted, dead or alive' with a large sum of Twenty million Zircon as the reward. The art of the felon was very obscured from view, as the shadowy figure vanished behind a pillar of a nearby building.
The Templar kept in pursuit, as the seemingly wanted criminal fled through the woods.
”Don't let him get away!” The baroness commanded.
The suspect glanced back, stumbling slightly, but caught his balance as he pressed onward. More arrows fired his way, but he was not struck by them. The eerie figure loomed after them, watching curiously, with unknown intent from above. They rushed through the path of the forest, but the man did not trail from the path. Not until he came to a point, the suspect rushed through the brush, and the Templar swarm kept at his heels.
They bombarded down a path lined with trees that carried no leaves. It was rather barren, compared to the city. From there, they found a cemetery. Tombstones covered the grounds, sticking out from the dirt, acting as barriers as the man fled into a chamber door.
The Templar soldiers didn't let up, following after him. The halls inside this chamber had plaques on the walls, where people were buried. Turning the corner, the man glanced to them, as an arrow blasted through his right eye socket. The impact knocked his body to the ground, blood escaping the hole in his head.
The Templar knights approached the fallen man, one kicking his motionless body. ”Dead.”
”Turn him over.” Ordered the leader.
”Yes ser.” Replied another, doing as directed.
They examined the face of their target. The blond haired Templar baron turned, looking off. ”He's not the one we're after. Dammit, every lead is giving us nothing.” She groaned in annoyance, looking back to the entrance. ”This Amygdala had it coming. Disobeying the order is inexcusable.”
”Bloody heathen, should've listened.” Scoffed one of the others.
”Not like anyone'll miss him. What should we do with the body?” Questioned another.
”Leave him, the reapers will handle the rest from here. Let us return to base. Move out.” Their leader ordered.
”Aye ser!” The underlings saluted, before they disembarked out the entrance.
The silhouetted figured waited until they were out of sight, before emerging from the shadows. Leather boots slide across the cobblestone flooring, grinding some gravel into it, as they approached the corpse. Her form was finally seen. She was a blond haired lady with fair skin, wearing fairly casual dark clothing. She appeared to be in her early twenties. Kneeling down, she saw how badly mangled the dead Amygdala was.
She was analyzing the situation it seemed, not showing any signs of sorrow. ”Hm. Couldn't cloak his aura. The Templars must of sensed it, after questioning him. Appears like he had gotten stirred and fled in the process, so they gave chase. He should of flown away when he had the chance. Disobeying the Templars, means execution. He was stupid.” She spoke cryptically, looking off down the candle lit halls, that trailed into darkness.
Her boots echoed, as she shifted her weight in the dark corridor. Random sounds of creaking was heard down the paths ofthe underground cemetery, it was bone chilling to those easily startled. The mysterious woman however, was unfazed.
”Sorry to intrude, but may I assist you with something?” Spoke a chilling voice from behind her.
The shady girl turned around fast, drawing a white kodachi. A purple aura spiraled around her, with wailing faces, like souls of the damned. Her sharp eyes caught the face of the voice, it belonged to a small grim reaper floating behind her.
The lady sighed, sheathing her blade. ”Just a fiend.” She said, as her aura faded off.
He stared at her briefly. ”I didn't mean to alarm you. Though. Not to sound rude, but, judging from that aura, you're an Amygdala. Am I correct?” Inquired the little reaper, peering up at her with an eerie blank expression on his skull-like face.
”Maybe, what's it to you? I mean, you're a monster who has speech. That's pretty weird.” The girl's sharp green eyes trailed off.
The reaper floated to where she faced, he looked to the lady. ”Ah, I sometimes forget that people cannot understand the speech of my kind. It is rather curious how you do, however.”
The lady quirked her brow, ”(He is right, perhaps I should look into this. Another time maybe.)”
The reaper floated over, peering down to the dead man on the floor. ”Poor soul, I hadn't noticed you there. Let me find you a proper resting place.” Said the reaper, picking up the body.
The reaper floated off down through the dark chamber of the dead. The lady turned to where the light shined in. Her boots began to move, as she traveled back outside, taking the form of a shadow trailing along the stone floors.
Sometime had passed after that, the mysterious lady was looming in town. She was perched on the ledge of a shop building, she seemed to be keeping notes in a journal. A quill was being used as she jotted down details of the encounter.
Below her was a door of a store called 'Zetto's pets', slammed open, as a boy with tabby cat like features rushed out on all fours. The girl's sharp eyes peered to the movement, carrying a cold expression. ”A leashed?...”
From the pet store, an older man wheezed, rushing out the door after the cat leashed, but hunched over shortly after he reached the center of the plaza. ”Dang blasted feline!” Mr. Zetto gasped for air. ”I'll never catch that leashed... what will my business come to? My breeding license revoked, my name slandered...”
The mysterious lady had been eavesdropping, skulking in the shadows on top of the old man's roof. ”...”
In the distance, the feline Leashed was making a mad dash for the woods. ”Freedom, finally! There's NO stopping me now!”
From the sky, a black form swooped down upon him, tackling the cat to the ground. Him and the dark shape tumbled briefly down a hill, before they halted at the bottom. This resulted with the Leashed being pinned face forward to the ground. Black dragon like wings outstretched from the back of the mysterious lady, who had caught him. Her sharp eyes focused on the golden coated cat boy. He looked to be about sixteen.
”GET OFF OF ME!” He hissed at her, with cat like growls.
”With an attitude like that, I'm surprised you haven't had your tongue cut out.” The lady spoke coldly, almost in a teasing manner.
His tail fluffed up, as he hissed, struggling. ”I'm not going back there, you CAN'T MAKE ME!” He snapped, in anger.
”Do you really think, being out here will make you happy? Even without an owner, you're still not free. Stray leashed are captured, and taken where they more often than not, sold to black market thugs who will treat you worse than people who buy from a store. If that's not bad enough, sometimes they don't have room, or the Leashed puts up too much of a fight. Do you know what happens to them?” The lady was explaining, her tone seemed serious, and chilling.
”...” The cat boy was growling, but it had grown quieter.
”They kill them, without question.” She went on, harshly.
The cat seemed to have calmed down, but noticed black feathers on the ground before him. He was unable to see her from his position. ”You don't know what it's like, to be locked away, expecting to be bought as some SLAVE. You have freedom, and I don't. I hate this...”
”You're right, I don't know, but that doesn't mean I don't have problems of my own to worry about. If it's any consolation, my kind have little freedom.” She replied, as she held his wrist behind his back.
”... Then... you must be... an Amygdala.” The boy spoke quietly, he seemed unnerved.
”You catch on quick, not many do.” She smirked.
”Your kind have a pretty bad history. How can I trust you? What's in this for you?” The boy gritted his fangs.
”Because, I told you what I am. We like to keep things out of Templar knowledge. We blend in, no problems.” She explained.
”...That doesn't answer my second question...” He growled quietly.
”Allure of mystery. I can't tell you everything.” She stated.
”...Why should I listen to you?” The boy grew quiet.
”Well. Not only are you putting yourself in danger by doing this, but you're also hurting the man, who I assume, has taken care of you since birth. You at least have something close to a parent.” The lady went on, getting to her feet.
”You're really tugging at my heart strings here... fine. I'll go back...” He begrudgingly agreed.
Back at the pet shop, the breeder, Mr. Zetto, was looking around frantically.
”What if I get fined? Oh, this is bad...” He seemed worried, pacing around the front of his shop, where merchandise can be bought for pets. A glimpse of the back was seen, where kennels were kept, out of view.
The door chimed, as it opened. The old man turned, near panic, to see the lady enter with the escaped Leashed. She shoved him forward.
”I believe I found something that you lost. You really should be more careful.” The mysterious woman turned back to the door, without another word.
”The feral one... you caught him. Oh, thank the maker. Wait just a moment, please.” Mr. Zetto called out to her, as he approached the Leashed.
The lady stopped, her back remained turned to them. ”... What is it?” Her tone was eerie.
”I hope he wasn't too much trouble for you. He's a bit on the feisty side. You have done me a great service young lady. You have no idea how hard this one is to handle. I've had him for six years passed the age rate that Leashed are purchased at. It's hard to sell a Leashed this old, let alone one who isn't obedient.” The old man was talking, leaving no room for interjection or response.