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VanHellsin24 -> RE: The Rise and Fall of the Kingdom of Zealot (5/26/2012 8:52:00)
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One
The villagers of the Land of Kel have been in turmoil for the past two thousand years. For starters, their source of water comes from an underground stream that's mixed in with sulfur from nearby sulfur mines. One bucket of water takes about seven days to purify. Trees only sprout on the endless amounts of "floating islands", and reaching one is near impossible. The same goes for iron, plants, fruits and most other essentials. However, the villagers make the best out of what they own.
The Devil's Underbrush is a large forested area opposite the village gates. Its maze-like trees and infamously devil tail-shaped vines and grass have given the large section its deadly name. A pack of human eating wolves dwell within, waiting for another unlucky soul to wander in. Many even claim the wolves are from Hell, sent by Satan to torture their poor souls forever.
A legend enscribed on the Great Obsidian Slab tells the story of a man who bears the Eyes of the Wolf, the Zealot. He will lead the villagers out from their miserable lives and destroy the Devil's Underbrush. In doing so a kingdom will be erected on the site of the Devil's Underbrush. For generations the villagers have been waiting for the Zealot to arrive, but their numbers only dropped as hapless villagers wandered into the Devil's Underbrush. Many gave up on the prophecy, many others still hoped.
However, on a very scorching July night, a man who claimed to be from a village on one of the floating islands showed up. The villagers wouldn't let him in, knowing that the wolves come out at night. An elder said that if he lives they take him in, so they waited. Sure enough they heard wolf growls, but then came the howl of a creature that was soo blood-curtling the night air became noisy with quietness.
Morning came, and the villagers needed to open their gates. When they did, they met the grisly scene of the man holding a fang-shaped dagger in one hand. At his feet were the bodies of five wolves from the Underbrush. His face was smeared in blood, but they noticed his eyes were wolf yellow, almost gold. They took him in and interrogated him. After a few hours the village elders decided to let him stay. They surmised he was the Zealot, judging by his eyes and how easily he killed wolves.
His name was Saratov Fangbreaker, a villager from the village of Xia. He was assigned to pick fruits from a floating island but the floating land mass moved away from the village. Judging by his black cargo pants, black and white boots, gray short-sleeved shirt and the obsidian/diamond dagger that his village was extremely successful. He believed that the Devil's Underbrush could be destroyed, but needed supplies. After two years of building the village constructed a machine that could destroy the Underbrush. However, they didn't possess the energy to charge it. An elder claimed that a witch could empower the contraption.
Saratov valiantly rode through the Great Green Plains, whose soil could be burned down to make sulfur, on a horse he raised since his arrival. The majestic black steed never waned in the hot summer day, nor the brisk night. The steed could not tire out, in part to the ancient magic Saratov used. Saratov believed the witch was causing all the torment the villagers received. As he pondered on those things a small hut that stood on chicken feet appeared in the middle of a pasture. The horse stopped, fearing the uneasy aura eminating. Saratov spoke in its ears softly, calming it down. He got off and walked towards the hut. A young woman stepped out, eyeing the man approaching the hut. HER hut.
She had solid white eyes, with no trace of the iris. Her hair was kept back in a ponytail with a bang over one side of her face. She wore only a school girl's uniform and held a staff ordained with skulls at the top in her grip. She smiled, revealing rows of jagged sharp teeth.
"My my, a young man come to make me less lonely!"
"Good day Baba Yaga."
"Oh, you don't have to call me that. Call me Yaga."
Saratov sat on a very small stool that surprisingly held his weight. Yaga had prepared tea, and sat opposite him drinking from the small cup. She stared at Saratov, who only looked back with an expressionless face.
"You're not from around here," the witch said. "There are traps that go off for people who don't possess magical energy."
"Why such risks? You're a witch."
"I wouldn't say 'witch'. Ill accept Sorceress. So tell me, why do you come here?"
"I need energy to destroy the Devil's Underbrush."
"No."
"Why do you refuse?"
"Because I said so. However, there is one other option." She smiled, licking her lips.
"Is something the matter?" Saratov asked.
"You! You possess Reaper magic! You tricked me!" She lashed out, transforming into a haggard old woman. Her neck began to deteriorate, making her black blood shoot out. She fell to the wall and died as her body quickly turned to bones.
"It is done." Saratov took her staff and exited the hut. As he rode off the hut slowly deteriorated, leaving behind a heap of debris. A voice echoed in his head.
You will pay for killing me Reaper. HA HA HA! You just wait! You may be the Zealot of legends, but I'll make sure you go down in infamy!
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