Seraphic Chronicles: Divinity

Advent of Destiny

''Oh sister. Our world. Our world. How terrible it is that our dream, what we have sacrificed. Is it all undone? Has it been in vain? My heart. I do not wish to see this. What has become of our dream, our world?''. The masculine voice reverberated in the massive chamber like gentle thunder of a great thunderstorm. ''Despair not my brother. Our fated promise is at work. Out of calamity will rise the light that we cherish. It is ignited. Our efforts will not be in vain. My heart. It suffers so. Our beautiful legacy desecrated. But persevere brother. The wheels of fate are set in motion. The clogs will turn'' The second voice that resounded in the vast chamber was soft, like the vespertine mists themselves.  

''Thanks be to thee sister. My heart. It rejoices. This feeling. It has been done has it not? The first cog on the wheel of fate turns. I feel it sister. The time is nigh. It is upon us. The lightbearer is awakened,'' the thunderous voice boomed with a joyous rhythm. Walls of the sacred chamber shook with the power it carried. ''Brother. My heart. You see true. I feel it as well. The ancient prophecy is unravelling. We must endure. We must persevere. We must be as we have always been. We shall await till destiny showers us with light. Remember our fated promise my brother. Zaexingha watches all. The harbinger of fate will set spirit in stone. Brother. My heart,'' the female voice sounded again, a gentle shower of soothing light that basked the chamber and her companion in soft hues of ancient light. 

''My heart. Sister. I will place my life in hope again. Hope is the blaze we set in hearts succumbing to despair. It is eternal. The light of heaven's eternal wings shine once again with hope. I am hope sister. You are hope. Let us continue our sacrosanct pledge. The world is crumbling. The heart of the world is withering. I am grieving. But I am hoping. I bathe in the light and I await destiny's warm embrace once more sister. The time is indeed nigh is it not?'' the thunderous rumble was directed at its female companion.  

''Brother. Destiny comes. The blaze is ignited again. Rejoice. Grieve. Our fated promise brother. The ancient prophecy is in motion. The crumbling world shall crumble no further. The heart of hope is weeping brother. The lightbringer. The harbinger of destiny. We will persevere. We will be. Let us carry our duty brother. Let us be''. With a gentle melody of a thousand chiming bells, the vespertine voice faded out and the light that was emanating from the two companions shimmered out of existence. The sacred chamber was dark once again.

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A shadowy figure sat on the alabaster windowsill that overlooked a hellish landscape. The figure was cloaked in what seemed to be sentient darkness. There was no wind at all, yet the cloak flourished and billowed as if caught on a never-ending gust. The only observable trait of the figure were the dark red lips that were masculine and sensuous. They twisted in distaste as the hooded eyes observed the land beyond the window. 

Great bolts of darkness plagued the land. In the stead of lightning these macabre bolts rained on the already desolate ruins. thunder sounded like the screech of tortured beasts. There was however, light in the land. It came from the triple ominous red moons that decorated the sky. One was scarlet. It was small in size and blazed evilly. The other was clear ruby, bigger than the scarlet and the final moon was pure blood red. It was enormous and dwarfed its sisters. It was flanked on each side by a moon. The combined light basked the ruined land below it, illuminating destroyed homes, manors, mansions, slums and much more. 

The ancient beauty of the land was no more and the benevolent light of the moons had turned malicious and morbid. This place was deemed hell and the figure faced away from it in disgust, in sorrow and jumped off the windowsill into the room that he was occupying. It was a tower room with just a simple rug on the right hand corner of the oval room and a firelight that was hung up on the alabaster celling. Everything in the room was of alabaster save for the small mahogany desk in the middle of the room and the accompanying chair. The figure made its way to the desk and made himself comfortable in the chair and started writing on the open book with a black ink pen. 

The sounds of scrawling dominated the eerie quiet room and not a single sound was heard outside as well. The light above the figure flickered and cast an orange tinge to the gloomy atmosphere. There were two bookshelves on each side of the rug. The shelves were stacked full of ancient leather bound volumes, some decrepit looking, some fresh and some polished and a few that were encrusted with precious gems. It was obvious this was a place of great knowledge. The two books on the table were unique. One was entirely black and the other was white. The one the figure was diligently scrawling on had pages that seemed as if they were made of solidified milk. The books were esoteric indeed. 

The figure suddenly stopped writing. As if compelled by an invisible force, he ran over to the windowsill. Through the dark bolts, through the bloody light of the moons, there came a streaking wave of light. It originated from a different plane. It was magnificent, glorious and divine. The figure gasped as it bathed him in a light so pure, it felt as if the light of a thousand suns were fuelling him with power. And with astonishment, the figure realized what the secret was. As he stood transfixed, the light vanished in a blink. Gone as soon as it appeared. 

A soft knock was heard and the wrought iron door of the room opened and ushered in a man covered from head to toe in burgundy robes save for his face. His coal black eyes were ablaze with a fierce look of rapturupus joy and his strong face supported a crooked nose, chiselled features and a deathly white pallor His thin red lips parted ''It is come my lord. It is come. We are not destitute. Hope is come my lord,'' the man spoke in a rich baritone.  

The man did not answer immediately. He got up slowly from his perch and approached the second man with carefully measured footsteps. Cloak fluttering, body moving lithely, a picture of dark grace, the man approached his subordinate and did not hesitate to hold him in a gentle embrace. ''Vidat. I told you. The time will come. This is the prize of faith. I felt it deep in my soul. It was hope. It was divine. It was the light of awakening. I have not felt such pure Lumia in a millennia. You comprehend what this means do you not Vidat? Do not abandon hope so easily next time. Will you heed my words this time my kind man?'' 

Vidat returned the embrace which felt like he was engulfed by a gentle sea of flowing warmth. ''Of course my lord. I never doubted you. I was just sceptical. Scared if you may. Would you hold it against me my lord? I share this with most in our empire. Forgive me sire. I hope you do not hold the blame over us'' Vidat told his master in a sombre tone.

With an agitated sigh the man in the cloak broke the embrace and admonished Vidat. ''you need not address me formally Vidat. We are much too close for that, you and I. You have been by my side for far too long. You insult me with such requests my man. You know well I would not indulge in such pettiness. I forgive you and the people. It was natural. With great calamity comes despair, fear and a loss of hope. However we have now seen the light. It marks the advent of the ancient prophecy Vidat. It is time for rejoicing. However we must tell no one. Only you and I would have been able to see what just transpired. You know what we must hasten to do now.'' 

''Yes of course. Thank you for your forgiveness your dar- I mean Vi-Vis-Visra. It does not feel right, even after all this time to address you by that name,'' Vidat replied ruefully. With a chuckle, Visra clapped Vidat on the back and said. ''There is no need of that if we are blood my lad. We shared the same grandfather. I do believe it gives you the right do you not think so, cousin? And now. We must hurry to the throne. You and I, we are the only ones who are capable of taking action. The awakened must be guided, lest it fall to our enemy. We have but one chance for salvation. Let us not dally cousin,'' Visra urged Vidat and turned towards the door. Vidat did not waste time with so much words and with a simple yes, followed Visra through the door.

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//AN// this is kind of how the castle looks like. imagine its dark with an actually bloody light of the tree moons and a ruined city surrounding the castle and black thunder and lightning. and the music plays in the sacred chamber with the two mysterious companions :D

Hope you watties enjoyed reading my story. comments/votes are welcome <3