Red Chronicle

Red Chronicle

“I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.”

William Blake

Power surged through him like the torrents of tsunami waves decimating all in its path laying a vast area of nothingness. His form was brutal, ruthless, menacing. With the flex of muscles that strained across his dreadful body the unwary existence became wary, horrified by his approach. His gaze sharper than a Katana sliced open the flesh of men exposing horrors and the darkest fears. The earth beneath his feet trembled as the gravity itself became distorted by a power unimaginable. Each step sent tremors across the land, upon which the enemies fell helpless like pebbles in a shaker. The fiery golden iris within coal black eyes searched relentlessly for an enemy worthy a lasting fight. Till the worthy foe is found the ants disgracing the name of an opponent shall become his amusement.

Every bead of sweat that fell upon the bare earth seared through it like burning iron through a thick mold of plastic. The skin glowed shining red with a burning desire for a fight. Torrential emotion of anger and immense frustration; Impatient to unleash upon any drifter across the path of this titan. Like piercing molten pikes through his skull this emotion gradually builds upon it, eventually exploding and causing collateral. The fists curl in a ball ready and hasty. To anyone who became the reason for his frown dissolved into an abyss unknown. Neither purgatory nor heaven his enemy faced a force beyond control, let loose upon the desolate forsaken land to make the present an utter hell upon the earth itself.

Confusion, irritation, agitation, instigation, submission and eventual sublimation into an existence surrounded by darkness. This darkness surrounds itself in a form of cocoon within which this chronicle of a man sustains till the rebirth. As the reincarnation takes place a deadly silence sweeps across the world, creeping sensation across the spine is felt, the goose-flesh appears upon the skin of all and a sudden alarming feeling by the sixth sense. Humanity cowers into the darkest of shadows as the world readies itself for the crushing wave of hurt. The gleaming eyes appear from within the dark hollow, the time is ripe for the world to taste the grievous emotions of a giant.

In complete wilderness where this man wanders alone lurk creatures beyond the wildest imagination of mortals. This monster of a man in possession of incomprehensible power strangely and uniquely also enjoys the possession of remarkable intellect. Complete and utterly dangerous being capable of releasing immense harm roaming free, unbounded and unchained. Therefore, it takes him a moment to realize the necessity of clothes yet an attire worthy to be donned by him. In his vicinity roam creatures of mystic history and an unreal past.

“It was the sort of anger that comes to a slow boil inside the hearts of good men who want justice, and finding it out of their grasp, decide vengeance is the next best thing.”

Patrick James Rothfuss 

As the thickness of fog subsides it slowly reveals the darkened silhouette shearing through the veil of mist. The feet bound inside the dark greenish skin and scales of gator, legs wrapped stark black from the Hydra, hunter of giants which remains now floated upon the slowly crimsoning fluid of the incomprehensibly deep pond. Lower torso tightly belt by the metallic brown of python’s skin. His chest armored by the flesh and impenetrable scales of dragon. The face partially hidden beneath the half-mask made from the skull of a troll. The cowl created from the giant vampire bat. His gloves taken from the werewolves. The cape formed by the ever aggressive griffin which lay upon the ground wide eyed, dead and meek. The attire was presently serving more than just the covering of this mammoth. It had emblazoned his already unbelievable shock and awe. With each step renewed his purpose, with every advance rejoice erupted, with any sight of enemy the senses grew sharp and with this unbearable thirst for fight he now wished impatiently. The earth started to tremor as the steps pounded the surface, dark clouds encroached his advance. Shadows grew larger as if they welcomed his presence. He knew this time where he had to go and whom to find. Even the creature such as he had a history behind him.

As he traveled across the desolate burning plains, hastily approaching a valley amidst tall harsh mountains. The valley on its own presented a very innocent yet broken picture. He tread within the tall trees and crossed the narrow clear water flowing upon marble stones. Strangely he avoided disturbing let alone destroying the surroundings. He stopped near a certain place which displayed as if it was once a humble, simple and strong village. But where his gaze lingered was nothing but blackness and ashes littered with skeletal remains of young and old. His gaze was filled with remorse and deep sadness yet his stance and expressions did not even produce an ounce of his true emotions. Suddenly he turned and started running away from this dreary place in a certain direction with complete clarity and understanding of his heading.

“Stronger than lover’s love is lover’s hate. Incurable, in each, the wounds they make.”

Euripides, Medea

The darkness and dread that left returned as quickly. The flame of hope and life that illuminated the world extinguished again. The objective at the particular location was already barricading itself, performing spells and incantations for the defense against such unstoppable force. The speed of his monstrous form was so much that even the sound was having trouble reaching him and in its despair yelling in a booming noise. As he neared his target the grip upon his great sword tightened which perhaps he might not need all. Of all things ancient, horrifying, deadly and mythical that he carried upon himself his sword was made by him in the forge that was as old as time itself. This sword was a relic from his past and his very own personal torment.

He was now standing in front of the ebony gates of the Sun Castle as it was known throughout the region. This great name associated with the fortress was due to its untainted reputation of being the strongest, impregnable, royal, powerful and largest haven for the republic empire. Its emperor exercised control and dictated his dominions from here. And at here, were all the reasons for his dark heart. He was once a strong, powerful and kind denizen of the once thriving village of Haddad. Made his living by forging steel and transforming it the best tools as well as weapons the world had ever seen. His village though small and humble was known for its smithing. His loving wife and two years old daughter were his life & joy.

It was a dark day as he watched the Varisha warriors of the empire march arrogantly into their village. They were seeking weapons and recruitment with utmost disregard of anything that lay across their path. Gradually they started plundering and violating privacy. Soon the patience of village waned off and situation turned sour. Few strong men of Haddad including Him showed nightmare to the thousand soldiers. But fate had betrayed Haddad for soon the valley poured with the soldiers. Afterwards it was genocide, not a single citizen of village was left alive. But he faced the worst of the brunt as he was dragged towards his cottage where his wife and daughter were bound together. The blood drained from his face as realization hit him. Without any hesitation he fell to his knees and begged mercy for their souls from the sub-commander of the Frontier region. As he was dragged away slowly by the soldiers the commander ordered something which he would regret afterwards. His wife and daughter thrown into the forge was the last image of his memory and their shrieks his never ending nightmare.

Surge of pain suddenly made him shake with unnatural energy, a kick on the massive gates blew open them, torn from their hinges flying away at least hundred meters away from him. So it had begun at last. For nearly a decade of near death training & preparation to become the monster he is today. The dark clouds shrouding the sky reached the Sun Castle entrance while the moon eclipsed. He tore apart the columns of soldiers with his bare hands, arrows bounced back from his body, not a single sword did reach him. Catapults massive parts blew up and hit the nearby walls bringing them down. The base level of the castle collapsed as he destroyed the speck-less walls and beams. Only fifteen minutes had gone by yet the first level looked as if a dragon had fallen and rolled over the countless soldiers present below. Magicians, sorcerers and illusionist all crushed within moments. Half of the emperor’s army lay fallen and broken. The reputation of Sun Castle was no more unblemished rather it lay in ashes now. Varisha Assassins all left the world before they could outwit him during battle. He punched the central ten pillars of first level which produced a groaning sound and then collapsed the second level. The Uwayam level where the emperor was drowning in his sweat shook and swayed. Only hour and half had passed but it looked as if the largest and most lavishing part of the world was hit by a segment of moon. The sky high walls lay upon the ground. Gates, pillars, beams and people lay scattered, crushed and mixed in rubble.

Emperor stood near the edge of his magnificent balcony gazing miserably at the ground a thousand yards below him. It felt to him as if he was tip toeing near the edge of a very tall mountain with a flabbergasting steep slope; this feeling was unreal and strange to him. His lack of courage fueled his hesitation to jump giving exactly the time needed by Him to reach the balcony. Slowly darkness crept upon the balcony sinking the hearts of his long searched enemy. His step upon the glittering marble steps crushed the edges and his foot sunk deep within the stone. He unsheathed the Haddad Great-Sword and gazed towards the emperor. The thirty among the fifty elite Varisha guards ran towards him and attacked at once by swords, pikes and axes. With ten instant thunderous swing of his weapon the mangled and butchered bodies of the thirty flew towards the emperor hitting the rest twenty elite guards. Without a single moment of hesitation like the emperor the twenty turned about, ran and jumped from the balcony. Emperor turned back shocked looking back at the Haddad man who just destroyed him. To the emperor’s almost demise the Haddad man had removed the half-skeletal mask and the cursed cowl.

“I am Uqbah” said the Haddad man in the sonorous voice that caused the emperor to collapse on his knees. Uqbah moved forward towards the large fire and laid his sword there. He grabbed the emperor by his neck and pulled him up so that his feet dangled four feet above the ground. At last! Said Uqbah, took out his sword from the fire and from the rubble at the entrance of the Sun Castle reached blood curdling cries of someone who prayed for death. After a while that seemed like eternity the shrieks ceased and a body engulfed in blazing fire fell from the high balcony.
Uqbah exited the rubble with a face devoid of any expression and started off at a heading without any aim or objective towards nowhere and into nothingness. As he wandered off the dark clouds gave a thunderous crack. The calm spread across the land as the only sound in the world was now of the rain that began to wash away the darkness.

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