-Leyndell, The Capital-
Fire crackled in the night as a torch screamed through the courtyard. It's owner running with ragged breath, desperately keeping his pace. His departure wasn't due for days, but the time was now. He couldn't stand to be in the castle any longer.
As the figure approached the massive wooden gates, he shouted at the soldiers to open it, cursing at them to speed up. They scrambled to open the gates, giving each other stunned glances, but they wouldn't dare question it. When the opening was wide enough, he shoved himself through and continued across the bridge. His lungs ached as he ran through the frigid air, but he willed himself to keep going. He would have been able to run circles around himself in his younger years, but his old age had slowed him down considerably. Still, he kept on.
Approaching the court stable, he ushered for the stable hand to get out of the way and began to untie and bridle a horse. He didn't have time for the proper preparation, no time for riding gear, only enough to mount the steed and ride off into the night. He would not be returning, he would never come back to this foul castle. As he rode across the rotten land, towards the light of the Erdtree, he grit his teeth and cast his judgement.
Curse the bloodline, curse the woman who sat on that foul throne, curse the gods and their plans, curse the ragged fools who feasted off the fruits of his labor, curse the relics that made him a god among men, the ones who corrupted his family, that stole the fire in his heart...
Curse the Elden Rings.
YOU ARE READING
The Shattering
FantasyLiurnia's downfall was inevitable. Though no one knew, the gods harbored a plan. They gifted the people the Elden Rings and created demigods to protect and inherit them. It was only a matter of time before man and demon would seek to corrupt them...
