xEsaulx
THE OTHER WORLD
Esaul and Naruto91
PROLOGUE
The blanket of wet, white snow mesmerized a bare footed, young woman, as she held her breath. Something about the place brought back memories that once was kept sealed away in the back of her mind. She saw herself, a younger version, more or less, standing a mere six paces in front of her. She recognized the dress she was wearing then. Her mother happened to favor that one. Arya smiled, remembering how innocent and carefree she used to be. As the younger self stepped, Arya called out to stop her, in fear of letting go of her memory. Or was it in fear of what stayed locked away?
The scenery changed, snow no longer touched the ground. In fact, the day was more pleasant. She recalled this memory more clearly as it took place just a few days ago. A handsome young man full of youth waited for her to come. Arya admired afar his features. Brown, soft hair she loved to run through her fingers' how she wished to feel them right now. Better than his hair though was his alluring blue eyes full of wonder, captivating her every time.
"Arya," he exclaimed as her past self stepped into view. The present Arya moved to embrace him, but forgot she could only watch and witness the memory itself.
"Cal," she responded, going into his arms at long last.
"I can always tell it is you by the smell of your hair."
"We cannot do this," she repeated for the thousandth time. It broke her heart for her to say it once more as always. The one thousand first time would only be harder for her weeping heart. "Father will be mad."
"Why, my love, do you care so much about what he thinks?"
"You worked so hard to become a priest. Are you willing to risk that?"
"I am. It is my fault for loving you as much as I do."
"but is it?" she whispered. Cal started to speak, but she placed her finger against his warm lips. The urge to kiss him was far too great for her to resist. "I'm supposed to be your teacher, not your lover."
Cal chuckled heartedly. "You worry about my priesthood when you have been working so hard to be our next High Priestess."
"You think that matters?"
Her voice echoed as the memory became more distant. Arya tried to cling to it. It no longer remained palpable to her. Panting heavily, she fell to her knees. She fought hard not to cry out in agony.
"Arise, my child," spoke the soft ancient voice of the High Priest, who held a vivid look.
Slowly, Arya rose from the stone floor, keeping her eyes to the ground. The High Priest struck fear in her each time he was angered.
"What would your father say indeed," he muttered, loud enough for her to hear.
"Father Darnus, please," she pled in exasperation
With a wave of his hand he dismissed the subject, Arya caught it from the corner of her eye. "That is of little importance. I must attend to other matters at hand. I am to Mirindri. Be safe, My child.".
The High Priest beckoned for her to kneel. He kissed her forehead mumbling: "Gods, let the child before me stay true to the purity of the light that shines on thee. Protectors of our Holy Land, allow her to stray from the dark. Let all sins upon thee be lifted by the power invested as High Priest. I Father Darnus wish her to be safe during my leave. Please protect her and guide her by the methods of light."
"Thank you Father," she whispered to him. But when she looked up he already reached the door that led out of the church.
***
As months grew to years, the people of Relwen went about their ways, alone and confused without the guidance of their High Priest. Harvest time came and went, and still no word from him.
"The clock strikes a score-four and you are still awake my Lady?"
Arya, barely changed into her night gown, nodded her head slowly. "Six years to this day and still not a word from Father Darnus. I fear for the worst."
"He is a brave man. No need to fret yourself over it, my Lady."
"I suppose you are right," Arya sighed, displeased with the outcome.
Terra, her maid, pulled open the bedspread for her, the princess, the priestess, to climb into. She tucked her in, and bade her a good night.
Am I left behind to be damned by Father Darnus, to follow his steps?
No, said another voice, They will not make you High Priestess until they have viable proof that shows Father Darnus no longer roams Isthellius.
And with that Arya fell asleep.
She woke with a start as she heard something moving in her room. The priestess whispered the spell for light, her room dimly lit up. Maroon drapes covered the windows that looked out onto the grounds. The moon snuck in slightly, showing some of the portraits of her ancestors on the wall. Her heart skipped a beat when she looked at the carpet. The color for some reason reminded her of blood. And not only that, that was not the natural color of the carpet...but what was it? She could not remember.
Something fell near her left, the sound echoed. Then she heard it. Clank. Clank. Clank. Agonizingly slow it came, closer and closer. With the light still glowing in the palm of her right hand, she tried to use it to look around her room. She hated the torture she had to endure. Bracing herself, Arya was prepared for the worst.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Then the metallic ring of a sword being unsheathed.
It had to be a nightmare. It had to be. What else could explain it?
Clank. Clank. Clank.
How much longer could it last? Certainly her room could not be that large.
Then there was...
Nothing. Nothing at all. Everything seemed to stop. Her heart ceased to beat. Her muscles refused to move. Even her own breath depleted. Time itself dared not to continue. One thing seemed to remain consistent no matter the countless and endless possibilities.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
How could it still be going? Where was it? The light itself was not enough. She needed something more. Anything that would intensify light. Racking her brains she tried to invoke in her mind the spell her master taught her to strengthen another spell.
"Beleg m'ea," she whispered at last. Finally the small sphere of light extended, growing at least three times.
Right in front of her stood a silver armored man rising over six feet. In his hands was her worst fear. The sword she heard ages ago coming out of its scabbard.
Without hesitation he brought the sword down. Arya conjured a simple shield that encased her in a ball of glowing light, her manna. The knight's sword fought against the priestess' conjured shield. He possessed more brute force than she. Arya panted, the shield would not last much longer. She could not let him shatter her defensive spell. People of the religious class under the branch of light magic were not meant to fight in any type of battle. Their branch of magic had no offensive spells in comparison to the others.
This was the end of Arya Kemen. As soon as the shield faltered, the sword would take her life away. From the positioning of his blade it would come for her side. A small chance said she would live. For how long, she could not say for sure. Maybe she would have time for the healing spell. Arya did not want to rely on probabilities.
Ebbing away, the shield started to evaporate. Fighting with every fiber in her body, she tried to cling to the shield that surrounded her. At any time now he would go for the final blow. Soon her life would end. As the seconds went by the protection shimmered away. Arya wanted to scream for help, something told her it would be in vain. The sword the knight weld came down, striking her head. She fell to the ground, blood covering the whole floor. Before her light spell shimmered away, she saw the original color of the carpet. Midnight blue.
Esaul and Naruto91
PROLOGUE
The blanket of wet, white snow mesmerized a bare footed, young woman, as she held her breath. Something about the place brought back memories that once was kept sealed away in the back of her mind. She saw herself, a younger version, more or less, standing a mere six paces in front of her. She recognized the dress she was wearing then. Her mother happened to favor that one. Arya smiled, remembering how innocent and carefree she used to be. As the younger self stepped, Arya called out to stop her, in fear of letting go of her memory. Or was it in fear of what stayed locked away?
The scenery changed, snow no longer touched the ground. In fact, the day was more pleasant. She recalled this memory more clearly as it took place just a few days ago. A handsome young man full of youth waited for her to come. Arya admired afar his features. Brown, soft hair she loved to run through her fingers' how she wished to feel them right now. Better than his hair though was his alluring blue eyes full of wonder, captivating her every time.
"Arya," he exclaimed as her past self stepped into view. The present Arya moved to embrace him, but forgot she could only watch and witness the memory itself.
"Cal," she responded, going into his arms at long last.
"I can always tell it is you by the smell of your hair."
"We cannot do this," she repeated for the thousandth time. It broke her heart for her to say it once more as always. The one thousand first time would only be harder for her weeping heart. "Father will be mad."
"Why, my love, do you care so much about what he thinks?"
"You worked so hard to become a priest. Are you willing to risk that?"
"I am. It is my fault for loving you as much as I do."
"but is it?" she whispered. Cal started to speak, but she placed her finger against his warm lips. The urge to kiss him was far too great for her to resist. "I'm supposed to be your teacher, not your lover."
Cal chuckled heartedly. "You worry about my priesthood when you have been working so hard to be our next High Priestess."
"You think that matters?"
Her voice echoed as the memory became more distant. Arya tried to cling to it. It no longer remained palpable to her. Panting heavily, she fell to her knees. She fought hard not to cry out in agony.
"Arise, my child," spoke the soft ancient voice of the High Priest, who held a vivid look.
Slowly, Arya rose from the stone floor, keeping her eyes to the ground. The High Priest struck fear in her each time he was angered.
"What would your father say indeed," he muttered, loud enough for her to hear.
"Father Darnus, please," she pled in exasperation
With a wave of his hand he dismissed the subject, Arya caught it from the corner of her eye. "That is of little importance. I must attend to other matters at hand. I am to Mirindri. Be safe, My child.".
The High Priest beckoned for her to kneel. He kissed her forehead mumbling: "Gods, let the child before me stay true to the purity of the light that shines on thee. Protectors of our Holy Land, allow her to stray from the dark. Let all sins upon thee be lifted by the power invested as High Priest. I Father Darnus wish her to be safe during my leave. Please protect her and guide her by the methods of light."
"Thank you Father," she whispered to him. But when she looked up he already reached the door that led out of the church.
***
As months grew to years, the people of Relwen went about their ways, alone and confused without the guidance of their High Priest. Harvest time came and went, and still no word from him.
"The clock strikes a score-four and you are still awake my Lady?"
Arya, barely changed into her night gown, nodded her head slowly. "Six years to this day and still not a word from Father Darnus. I fear for the worst."
"He is a brave man. No need to fret yourself over it, my Lady."
"I suppose you are right," Arya sighed, displeased with the outcome.
Terra, her maid, pulled open the bedspread for her, the princess, the priestess, to climb into. She tucked her in, and bade her a good night.
Am I left behind to be damned by Father Darnus, to follow his steps?
No, said another voice, They will not make you High Priestess until they have viable proof that shows Father Darnus no longer roams Isthellius.
And with that Arya fell asleep.
She woke with a start as she heard something moving in her room. The priestess whispered the spell for light, her room dimly lit up. Maroon drapes covered the windows that looked out onto the grounds. The moon snuck in slightly, showing some of the portraits of her ancestors on the wall. Her heart skipped a beat when she looked at the carpet. The color for some reason reminded her of blood. And not only that, that was not the natural color of the carpet...but what was it? She could not remember.
Something fell near her left, the sound echoed. Then she heard it. Clank. Clank. Clank. Agonizingly slow it came, closer and closer. With the light still glowing in the palm of her right hand, she tried to use it to look around her room. She hated the torture she had to endure. Bracing herself, Arya was prepared for the worst.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Then the metallic ring of a sword being unsheathed.
It had to be a nightmare. It had to be. What else could explain it?
Clank. Clank. Clank.
How much longer could it last? Certainly her room could not be that large.
Then there was...
Nothing. Nothing at all. Everything seemed to stop. Her heart ceased to beat. Her muscles refused to move. Even her own breath depleted. Time itself dared not to continue. One thing seemed to remain consistent no matter the countless and endless possibilities.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
How could it still be going? Where was it? The light itself was not enough. She needed something more. Anything that would intensify light. Racking her brains she tried to invoke in her mind the spell her master taught her to strengthen another spell.
"Beleg m'ea," she whispered at last. Finally the small sphere of light extended, growing at least three times.
Right in front of her stood a silver armored man rising over six feet. In his hands was her worst fear. The sword she heard ages ago coming out of its scabbard.
Without hesitation he brought the sword down. Arya conjured a simple shield that encased her in a ball of glowing light, her manna. The knight's sword fought against the priestess' conjured shield. He possessed more brute force than she. Arya panted, the shield would not last much longer. She could not let him shatter her defensive spell. People of the religious class under the branch of light magic were not meant to fight in any type of battle. Their branch of magic had no offensive spells in comparison to the others.
This was the end of Arya Kemen. As soon as the shield faltered, the sword would take her life away. From the positioning of his blade it would come for her side. A small chance said she would live. For how long, she could not say for sure. Maybe she would have time for the healing spell. Arya did not want to rely on probabilities.
Ebbing away, the shield started to evaporate. Fighting with every fiber in her body, she tried to cling to the shield that surrounded her. At any time now he would go for the final blow. Soon her life would end. As the seconds went by the protection shimmered away. Arya wanted to scream for help, something told her it would be in vain. The sword the knight weld came down, striking her head. She fell to the ground, blood covering the whole floor. Before her light spell shimmered away, she saw the original color of the carpet. Midnight blue.