First Light of a New Age

Chapter 26: The Dark Legion

O O O O O O

Kingdom of High Tarxan, New Tarxa, High Elven Ville, Tarxan Palace

First Year Of God, First Day, First Five Days, First Month

The velvety darkness cloaks the surrounding skies as the last vestiges of the sun vanished beyond the western horizon. After it sets, a new illumination shines from the east, the radiance from the moon silently glows through the sky as it reflects the grand palace of Tarxa, casting a serene aura upon it. One by one, lights were being lit all around the palace, illuminating its majesty, followed by the surrounding areas that were also lit.

However, one thing was a problem. To the far side of the capital lies the slums. It is where the people with no magic were kept; they were dirt poor, so with the moon's illumination, the brightly lit grand palace of Tarxa looked like heaven to them.

Inside the palace was a gathering of a group of hooded Elven men and women. At their center was none other than Acheron.

"I've gathered you all here to inform all of you about our success! My sister has been wiped off the face of the kingdom! I would like to congratulate each of you for your effort in researching this higher tier of magic!" Acheron declared.

The gathered hooded elves smirked and exchanged knowing glances, with some of them laughing in amusement and some with disappointment flickering beneath their veils.

"I know some of you wanted to taste my sister, but fear not! I shall reward each of you with an additional 'partner', be it woman or man, of your preference!" declared Acheron.

Cheers erupted within the palace chamber, as everyone was practically salivating and was panting. The thought of being able to choose a 'special partner' of their choice with the monarch's blessings means they can never reject them. Just the thought of ravaging whatever partner they were given was enough to send them to their imagination, which made their guard drop.

Acheron didn't let this chance slip by, and so he glanced towards the sides, which the hooded elves didn't notice when entering the room. With a silent command gesture through a mere glance, he ordered them to silently kill the drooling court magicians.

A dark hooded elf came out from the darkness of the room, and soon enough, about a dozen of more appeared, but they appeared invisible to the naked eye, and their footsteps seemed to not emanate any trace of sound at all, meaning that some sort of stealth magic was used.

To make the court magicians drop their guard down even more, Acheron embellished his words with even more sweet details such as promises of power and wealth, and when it was time, he finally gave out his last order to the court magicians.

"Court Magicians! You're just one step away from achieving all of this! If you truly want those things, kneel before your new monarch!" 

"At your will your majesty! Long live the rightful ruler of High Tarxa!" The court magicians chorused, their voices laden with eagerness..

Bowing before Acheron with their heads down, the court magicians submitted to his authority. They couldn't let this opportunity pass by to raise their status and wealth, however this was a fatal miscalculation on their part.

"Now as your first act in service to the prosperity of my kingdom..." Acheron paused as his tone remained casual.

"What it is that you will be your majesty!" The court magicians loudly inquired.

"...Is to die," he answered nonchalantly.

Cold sweat sweeps through the backs of the court magicians as they try to process what their new monarch had just said, but it was already too late. As soon as Acheron spoke those words, all the hidden hooded elves that were suppressing their presence suddenly materialized out of thin air from behind and plunged their daggers to the unsuspected hearts of the court magicians, silencing the chamber with the sickening sound of betrayal.

The foremost court magician on the front, had his blood gush out from his mouth. After the blood spilled from his lips, the court magician looked up and his gaze met the smirking face of Acheron. He was, however, already losing consciousness, he wanted to kill this person, but his magic was already leaking out of him as he was losing his life force and so it's immensely unstable. So he just uttered something.

"T.r.a.i.t.o.r"

With those damning words, the court magician fell to his own pool of blood with life in his eyes fully extinguished. Looking around the room was Acheron, he was excessively happy that he thought he could fly. Now that his co-conspirators are dead, all he needs to do is to just ascend the throne and claim it for himself.

Under the shadowy depth of the room, an Elf that was quite different from the rest of the populace appeared, one most notable difference was its much darker skin compared to the cream white of the traditional Elven people.

"It seems the dark legion still has some uses, huh," Acheron remarked, acknowledging their presence.

"As per our ancestors tradition, we hide through the shadows and strike where it is least expected," a feminine voice, belonging to the dark elf woman, resonated with reverence, "My people have been wandered far and wide from land to land, and I thank you for taking us in, feeling very grateful for your sanctuary. I now pledge my allegiance to you, Majesty Acheron, and make sure to serve you faithfully very well."

"Hmph! If it weren't for your people's skills and power, I wouldn't have bothered to take all of you in," Acheron retorted.

"Even so, you have our heartfelt gratitude." the dark Elf woman replied, bowing respectfully.

"Hm, enough with this chitchat and pleasantries," Acheron interjected sharply, "I must now claim the throne. Only those who have been chosen may sit upon it, under the watchful gaze of the Elven Goddess."

As darkness enveloped the quarters, Acheron, accompanied by the shroud of his ambitions, made his way through the blood-stained chambers, to which he arrived at the throne room. After arriving in the throne room, Acheron immediately sat on the throne and had finally claimed the seat of power.

He could feel no rejection so he assumed that his sister was really dead. But just as he thought he had succeeded, no sooner had he settled upon the throne than a dark cloud formed on top of the throne, crackling with lightning as it came and attempted to strike Acheron. But as if shielded by unseen forces, a protective barrier repelled the attack, leaving him unscathed.

Suddenly a deafening roar of a thunder reverberated throughout the entire capital as massive dark clouds were forming on top of the palace. This phenomenon was however challenged by another thunderous thunder from afar.

Both of the dark clouds were roaring as loud as they could be, displaying raw elemental fury countered by a distant, defiant thunderclap that even tremble the whole world. The skies rumbled with competing forces, and soon enough they merged towards one another before dissipating into the ether.

Acheron, who was watching through the window, was able to witness everything, and so he came inside laughing maniacally through the chamber as he reveled in his newfound supremacy.

After the event that transpired, he was able to feel the power coursing through him. He has now ascended the throne.

"HAHAHAHA! I am now a king!" he declared triumphantly.

But at that moment, he felt something was strange. Closing his eyes, he sought to tap into the wellspring of magic that should accompany his ascension, only to find it nothing had changed.

"What...?"

Throughout the history of High Tarxa, the new monarchs were able to receive an unbelievable amount of power when they ascended the throne. But when Acheron had ascended to it, he indeed felt he had possessed the authority of his kingdom, but at the same time, he received no power.

"...This makes no sense!"

O O O O O O