Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land

by Alex Rey

  A small sense of nervousness and curiosity itched all around Yofel when he bent over to the pool of blood. Should I?

  --

  Not everything we do can be successful. Baphonsey noted. Yofel isn’t entirely successful at everything! Sitting upon a ledge of one of her home’s windows, Baphonsey sat and contemplated Yofel’s decisions.

  Yofel never seemed to be the patient type, and even if he had the patience to find the temple, what would he do when he gets there? What if there was some type of creature that could cause him great danger?

  What would Yofel do when he did become immortal? Would he even share it with me? Would it be too late for us by the time he did get the blade? All these thoughts and more caused her to touch a finger to her lip.

  A sigh extracting from her mouth, Baphonsey picked up a bucket by her foot and hoisted herself up from the window’s ledge. All the while did she attempt to keep herself in a cheery mood. Baphonsey clapped her hands as she uttered over to the klai, “Come on, everybody! Follow me!” One by one did the animals come out from their business to herd over to their owner.

  At the same time did Baphonsey wonder if they took any realization to Yofel’s absence. All this wondering came to an end when a loud bang vibrated all around the surrounding area.

  What was that? Needing only a heartbeat to think, Baphonsey began to panic. No! He couldn’t! Yofel’s not going to die from the temple!

  With only a for more heartbeats did she realize any thougths of denial were futile. Just when she took notice of this fact did she come to her knees and begin to sob into her dirt-covered hands. He’s gone! she realized. Why did he have to do this? Why couldn’t he have stayed home?

  Tears buried in her own hands, Baphonsey wept as her klai made a ring around her. She was blissfully ignorant of their presence, feeling as if she were all to herself. Not even the klai’s snorts, chortles, and cries could have brought her out of her position. It wasn’t until the sound of footsteps vibrated in her ears when the klai grew silent.

  Dumbfounded by the sound, Baphonsey raised her head from her hands and took a look up. A great spark of elation and relief flashed in her head when she took sight of Yofel standing in front of her. Although his back was turned to Baphonsey, her face lit up like the sun at such a phenomenal sight.

  Happiness overwhelming her, Baphonsey picked herself up off her knees and rushed over to her husband. “Yofel! I can’t believe you’re alive! Oh, how I missed you!” Her arms open, her heart thumping about in her chest, Baphonsey prepared to wrap her arms around her beloved husband.

  It almost came as a surprise to Yofel when he took notice of his wife’s arms forming a cage around his shoulders. I’m back, he realized. Now with his own lips, “H-how did I get here?” All the while did he look over his shoulder and at his weeping wife.

  Without paying any regard to her husband’s words, Baphonsey buried her face in his chest. “I thought you were gone! I can’t belive you’re back!” she sobbed, her tears absorbing into his clothes.

  Realizing there could be only one way for Yofel to have survived the explosion, Baphonsey looked up and stammered when she asked him, “Are you—are you an immortal?” All the while did she peer at the blade in his hand.

  Pulling out his blade, Yofel hesitantly replied, “Yes—I am!” At this moment he gently touched the tip of the blue blade to Baphonsey’s throat, giving her whole body a flinch as a course of energy surged through her.

  Gasping, Yofel’s wife wondered, What’s he doing to me? Is he trying to kill me? Rather than kill her, the feel of blade digging into her skin caused the blade’s already-present energy to spike in her blood. Such energy made her feel a great votality within her—a votality she gave a slight struggle to control.

  Swallowing, Baphonsey looked up at Yofel and—from the look in his eyes—she could tell that the rest of their endless lives would carry them to the edges of the world and drive them to the extremes and pull them to and from the brink of destruction.

  --

  As the week progressed, Yofel had offered immortality only to those who would help him create a new civilization in the new world he envisioned. There were only a few he had come in contact with who would not accept such an offer—and were left to die at the end of the week.

  With the large meteor’s impact with Eas, the planet split into many tinier worlds as it spread all across space itself. Yofel and almost all those he’d made immortal were lucky enough to stay together in a cluster of Easi debris.

  It seemed like a century of drifting insipidly through the stars when Yofel and the others caught sight of a blue speck floating about in space. At this point Yofel came up with an idea to draw himself closer to this glowing speck. His idea was to have all of the immortals on one side of the space rock, causing it to possibly move toward it. Yofel wasn’t sure if his plan would be successful—but within a matter of days, he and all the Easi crashed into the waters west of a strange and mountainous place.

  Upon making their splashdown, the immortals made their way toward a fire-spitting mountain. Seeing this as a passage underground, each of the Easi passed through the magma unharmed, and found themselves in the hottest area they had ever experienced. Using the powers of his blade was Yofel able to control the magma and make enough space to build a great empire underground. Finding whatever deceased creatures’ skeletons he could, Yofel decided to use them to help build the empire as he and the immortals became the nobles of a city known as Mocrano.

  Soon came the time when Yofel was able to control his own powers and use them to create a system of government in this new place. All those earthlings died would become slaves who would help to set the foundations for the many buildings within Mocrano. As Mocrano spread, these slaves were especially busy with crafting thousands and thousands of monuments.

  Seeing Yofel’s actions as cruelty, nearly half of the immortals planned to overthrow him. Of this group included his own wife: Baphonsey. Sparing every last gram of her energy, she was able to smuggle the blade of immortality and launch it back into the stars. From that moment on she was never seen again by Mocranian eyes.

  That was Yofel’s story—a tale of love, loss, and immortality. Rarely would he think of Baphonsey and the way she had so desperately tried to betray him.

  --

  Chapter III

  The New Addition

  Had he not skeletal features, Molar would have given off an appearance appealing to all who’d seen him—Mocranian or not. From what the Mocranians were able to tell, never before had anything so terrifying in appearance also given off such an adorable profile. Whether it was his large eyes, eagle-like beak, stubby wings, or lion paws—nobody could tell exactly what it was that made this little griffin so pleasing to the eye.

  His father, however, couldn’t decide what he was more like: a mother or a father? He was like a father in the way he taught his son important lessons—such as hunting, killing, and learning how to survive without civilization. At the same time, however, he was like a mother in how he always told Molar stories at the end of the day—stories usually about Mocrano’s achievements.

  It had been only a day after his own creation when Molar crawled outside the marvelous castle in which he and his father now prospered. He made sure to remain inside the walls outside of the castle—as he could not imagine what would happen had he exited his home’s walls. Wonder spread through his mind as he paced through his father’s plant-filled, wall-protected garden.

  One habit Molar held dear to himself was discovering many of Carpla’s Mocranian plants. With many differences from Earth plants, Mocrano’s plants drank a strange green liquid known as malid: the key to survival for everything in Mocrano. In addition to having a different supply for drinks, the plants received energy from the lack of light Mocrano had to offer.

  Apart from their needs, almost every Mocranian plant’s leaves held the purple of gorgeous amethyst gems. Needing protection from ravenous plant-eating beasts, the majority of the
plants’ stems wore sharp maroon thorns for self-defense. With such intensity in their tips, these thorns had the ability to piece through fabric, skin, and even bone!

  The plants’ purple and red colors were an inspiration to the traditional clothing the Mocranians wore—and also to the inspiration to Carpla’s clothing design. Only by wearing these colors—they believed—could they appear valiant in front of the rest of the Mocranians.

  Searching his way through Carpla’s garden, Molar poked his beak through a bush of flowers. Inside did he find a small pool of malid. He nearly hopped at such a sight, as he had never seen so much malid in one place before. Little did he know his reflection remained ever-present in this pool.

  Coming closer to the malid, Molar could feel something scratching on his neck—something sharp and irritating. The more he pulled his head into the bush, the more this scratch moved down his spine.

  Unable to bear the continuous pain, Molar yanked his head out of the bush. To his disappointment, the pull on Molar’s bones suddenly worsened as tens of scratches formed along his spine. Upon taking notice of such a painful sensation, he tried his best to keep a howl of pain from being released into the air.

  Without the ability to speak, Molar backed away from the plants. All the while did he fear the nonmoving weapons in front of him.

  It was the first time he realized how the beautiful things in life could hold enough danger to kill somebody. If so was the case, could any type of object or person—varying from the most beautiful to the most hideous—be used as an arsenal for life theft?

  --

  Soon came the time when Molar was old enough to leave the walls surrounding Carpla’s castle. Growing bored from seeing the same plants over and over again, he wondered if there would be even stranger plants lurking outside the walls. It was a thought which dared to challenge all he had once known about the outside world.

  Trying not to find trouble from any strangers outside of the walls, Molar would often look behind his back, noticing his father’s castle growing smaller and smaller. From a distance, the castle seemed to look younger than when he stood just in front of it. How long would it be until all that was left was a fuzz of a silhouette?

  All nobles owned either houses or castles that were made out of limestone—while the citizens usually owned huts made out of mud bricks. The bricks were specially carved by expert crafters to give the huts a round appearance. Slaves, however, would find it most fortunate if they could own or sleep in a house at all. Too many of them have had to sleep outside along with many of the tiny pests living there.

  Taking notice of yet another pool of malid, Molar’s pace quickened as his lion-like paws brought him to the large puddle. Never having run such a long distance before, the feel of wind brushing past his face was an entirely new experience to him.

  A halt came to Molar’s momentum upon making his way up to the edge of the pool. At that moment, however, his balance proved unable to keep him up on his feet—and he splashed into the malid as a result. It was the first time he’d ever taken sensation of a liquid overwhelming his entire body. This is amazing!

  Jumping around in the malid swept millions upon millions of little creatures away from Leyoht’s body in a cloud of fear. It was until picking himself up on his feet when Molar finally took notice.

  The only one of these creatures Molar actually saw was a large, scaly, non-blinking creature. Such a creature wielded two strange flaps for swimming and two additional tinier flaps visible on its sides. The creature’s body was almost entirely covered with scales, its lips giving off the impression it was kissing the malid. Such a creature was known as a fish—and its very presence caused hunger to crawl into Molar’s mind.

  Mocranians ate either bugs or fish, but many preferred fish. The reason why was because fish contained more protein—in addition to giving the Mocranians a fresh taste of meat. Bugs, however, were nowhere near as delicate as fish were. Many Mocranians despised eating bugs because of this simple fact.

  Stalking the slippery creature, Molar noticed its speed made it far too quick and its body made it far too slippery for him to get a grip of. With a lurch, he brought himself toward the fish—only to find himself with a bruised ankle and bones covered in malid once again.

  After many failed attempts at trying to catch the gilled creature, he finally came to a spot where it seemed as if the fish could not escape. Thinking this was his one and only chance, he pounced at the fish—only to see it had slipped away and accidentally swam into the jaws of another creature.

  Hatred and resentment flared up in Molar’s head at this sight. He felt as if he were about to blow his top off. His anger built up until he found the strength to speak his first words: “That was mine!”

  Growling, the bear responded in an unclear, feminine voice, “Too bad, runt.”

  Just like many of the other citizens of Mocrano, the bear in front of Leyoht held no fur, no blood, and no brain. Instead all that remain of her body was bones. While much lighter than a bear on Earth, this skeleton held enough weight within her body to crush the life out of Leyoht.

  Runt? Molar wondered. Even though he hadn’t any idea whatever the word “runt” meant, the insult still scarred him. Wanting shred the bear’s bones apart, he walked up to her awkwardly, his legs stiff. At the same time did he make sure the bear wouldn’t take sight or hearing of him.

  Jumping up on top of the bear’s large back, Molar made an attempt to snap one of her bones with his small beak. “Get off of me!” cried the bear. Releasing her grip on the fish, she rolled over on her back in an attempt to remove the child from her presence.

  Unfortunately for Molar, his large foot caught itself in the bear’s rib cage. As a result, he had no way to escape from the bear rolling over him! It wasn’t until he jumped out of the way—after that moment of struggle—when he escaped with only a slightly injured toe.

  After a slight pause, Molar picked himself up back on his feet—legs shaking as he took a look up. She’s tough, he silently stated. Only by turning his gaze upwards when he took notice of the bear about to sink her teeth into the fish he had just lost. Right at that moment did his fury rise up once again.

  Before she could take a bite from the fish, Molar jumped onto her back once again. While he felt such an attempt futile, Molar used all his strength with the aim for bringing an end to his new opponent. I’ll show you who’s a—what was it? A runt! I’ll show you who’s a runt!

  Upon feeling Molar’s presence on her back, the bear started shaking him off—rather than rolling over. “Get off, runt!” wailed she. It was then when she felt a strange pressure on her spine; at the same time did Molar feel an uncomfortable notion on the edges of his beak.

  Ignoring the increasingly-obvious pain, Molar bit down harder and harder on the bear’s spine—causing the notion in his beak to grow worse. Just when he felt that his beak may crack from the pressure he was placing on it, he instead found the bear’s spine broken before his eyes.

  The sound of a cacophonous roar vibrated in his ears at that moment. Such a sound almost made him feel a spark of regret for having destroyed one of the bear’s vertebrae. Before too long, the bear lost her balance and started tipping to one side.

  Deafening screams of terror came to their end—as did the life of Molar’s injured adversary. With her breath now gone, the skeletal bear crashed to the ground one last time. All the while did the fish—formerly in her paws—come in contact with the sandy ground below.

  Now with his beak’s pain disappearing, Molar leapt off the bear’s back in a frenzy. Upon doing so did he take a look back at his rival, watching as she fell to an eternal rest. “Who’s the runt now?” the mischievous griffin sneered.

  Unbeknown to Molar, the bear would now be reincarnated into either a bug or fish herself. Such was what Yofel had commanded would be the curse of all Mocranians had they shown weakness by being killed. Once she was eaten in this afterlife, nothing else would follow. She would simply vanish from exi
stence.

  For only a few heartbeats did a pause of silence last. During such a time did Molar constantly exchange glances between the deceased bear and the food she had just dropped. Taking one last look at the bear, he crawled over to the fish and began to wrap his beak around it, absorbing its taste and energy into his bones.

  Instead of passing through him—as was the case of the soft, skin-covered creatures on Earth—his food found itself coming in contact with many sharp, razor-like teeth in the back of Molar’s throat. Each and every Mocranian was equipped with these teeth for only one purpose: to shred their food into many tiny pieces.

  The case being with all Mocranians, a small amount of a saliva-like liquid covered the surfaces in their throats. As the teeth shredded the food into little dusty particles, such salivation would give this dust the tendency to stick to consumer’s rib cage. There, the ribs would take in the energy of the dust until it was no more; such a process turned it into energy.

  Although almost every Mocranian was born immortal, each one of them needed energy. Without any energy from food, they would fall into a deep sleep until somebody woke them up. The only way to have done so was to forcibly shove food down their non-breathing throats.

  Taking up the rest of the fish into his empty stomach, Molar enjoyed its soothing taste for as long as it would last. No attention was paid to the bear upon him, even when dead. Mesmerized by his scaly meal, Molar seeped his beak further and further into its appetizing meat.

  Upon finishing the last of his food, Molar ran back home, feeling incoming breeze brush through his bones. The presence of such a breeze blew away almost all the malid from his face.

  Molar came to a pause upon coming face-to-face with the front of the walls surrounding his father’s castle. Had he any lungs—or even the need to breath—he would have been panting right now. His large paws sore, he slowly made his way into Carpla’s garden as whatever remaining mental presence of the fish wore away from his mind.