Through the Eyes of Death

꧁༺ 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝔀𝓸 ༻꧂

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Elijah

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"These damned times of war and I can't even find a single artifact that I need," I huffed in frustration throwing down a book angrily taking out my frustrations on it by throwing it especially hard across the room.

"You stupid husky brute! You threw me you twat ninny?!?" screamed the book that was clasped in gold-latches from the analysis from afar. Its face seemed to be stuffed in the dirt while its beautiful hand-drawn frames painted with silver back were shining, no wait, the actual book was shining somehow.

"What the fuck!?!," I threw the nearest rock at the back of the shining talking book and was utterly disturbed; to say the least at the fact a shining book was talking back to me," Who the bloody hell are you a-and what are you??!"

The book picked itself off the floor and wiggled off the dirt as best it could but there were streaks on the face of its beautifully golden latched cover. The book huffed and grunted angrily as it awkwardly hopped around in the air, thank God I didn't cause a commotion with my screaming because good God would it have been uncomfortable explaining to my platoon why I was screaming at a book?

" You know for a grown man as handsome as you with such a wonderfully pleasing husky voice the only reason you'd be screaming with me is because of what I'd be doing to you" the book looked at me with eyes now and lord help my heart because even I wasn't expecting the scream that had come out of my lungs. Now in a flash, the book dissipated and was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, thank god the creepy book with eyes is gone now," I sigh in relief, chest heaving frantically, and just before I can catch my breath, a soldier from my platoon comes running in, it's my lieutenant George Lovell. Thank God it's him otherwise I don't know how I'd explain that a talking book called me a ninny. We've been through what most would say is gut-wrenching and life-changing missions together. Most stories of our missions are left unsaid and locked away, but this little event is going to need a second consultation. For peace of mind mainly.

"Did you see a creepy book with creepy ole purple eyes on it," I stared deeply into George's eyes hoping that he'd seen it on his way running in, but the poker face that George gave me told me otherwise," Shit, George, you wouldn't even believe me if I told you."

George remained stoic and calm as he waited patiently for me to explain more. I have always respected George even as a child because not only did he teach me everything I needed to know about war and the battlefield, but he also always remained at my side ready for combat and ready to listen to my nonsense that made no sense. He would remain my only friend who stayed by me throughout the ever-changing years.

"George, I was going through my artifact chest, and I pulled out this book and it called me a ninny George, A NINNY," I said frantically trying to piece the words in a way that he would understand,' And, then! The damned book grew eyes and looked at me. As it was floating, in midair George!! Midair! What even or how the thing does that I do not know. I can't wrap my head around it!"

George was quiet for a while pondering on what I had just said, and after a while, I began to worry if I had finally broken George with my constant nonsensical explanations. Then George broke his long silence and simply replied," It's the ancient autobiography of Demetria."

And for the first time in a while, I was stumped, left with no words. Never had I heard of the name Demetria nor an autobiography about her. I would have heard about something like that. I mean anything with historical value is something I want to know about, but this Demetria was someone I had never even begun to even start to think about. Suddenly the thought came to me," Who is this, Demetria? And why have I never heard of her until now..."

The more and more that I pondered on who this Demetria could be, it suddenly hit me how it was even placed in my chest of artifacts to begin with. The very woman who got me into the ancient history of the world and artifacts is my mother. In a swift change of action, I began to bark orders, my only thoughts were to find this book. What magical properties did it have for it to contain a sentience? Was it something entirely new or the unthinkable... the horrific terror that could ever befall a person, eternally damned as you are bonded to a book meant to keep your will and magic alive while completely taking away everything that makes you... you.

If that is the case, then this Autobiography of Demetria needs more help than I can get...

" George, prepare my platoon... I need to see if I am correct," I disclosed my demand to George as I sat in the closest seat to me. I slumped into the unnecessary god-awful gaudy chair sliding my fingers throughout my hair taking a deep sigh to relax my being, but I could not still the shaking of my heart.

" What is on your mind brother? You look sick with worry..."

" Alric? What brings you to my tent," I questioned him curious as to why he had just entered my tent unannounced. He had never once stepped into my tent unless it was for war meetings or he wanted something from me, but his look of deep concern had distracted me from my new side quest.

" I need to ask you something Eli," He was fighting his ever-growing panic and seeing my brother panicking was abnormal to me. It made me feel uneasy and concerned for his well-being judging by how haggard he has allowed himself to get over this new problem. And for someone as clean freak as Alric then you would be worried as shit too. I rushed over towards my older brother and began to pester him the best way I knew how," So who was it?

Alric's eyes widened as they darted from side to side at the question, and that's when I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Then I knew how serious he was being.

" Brother, tell me what is troubling you so? It has made you lose your silvery shine," My voice quivered underneath its husky accent. Alric's silvery shine in his aura that once shone bright as sunlight had been dampened by his worries and my older brother is known to be a man of strong fortitude. I tried to hide my concern but seeing Alric like this hurt me. It hurt my soul, my entire being. His hands were shaking, this was something bizarre and foreign to me. I dropped to my knees in a slow and calm manner, I did my best to show Alric that I cared about what he needed to say and that I was open to conversation. I studied Alric's body language, the nervous twitch when he held his hands to stop them from shaking, his eyes darting around the room wanting. No... its was a frantic search with his eyes. Full of fear and a deep pain was all held in his strong