THE UNTOUCHABLE [COMPLETED]

CHAPTER 1: THE GUARDIANS OF THE ABYSS

She knew her time on this earth should have ended a long time ago.

She was just exhausted, but she had no other choice.

To die would be a reprieve for her, a much needed rest.

But she could not and should not die. Yet.

"I am growing weaker," she whispered to herself as she stood in a cavernous room built out of rock. Massive, cold, and smelled of molds. Her wrinkled eyes stared straight out of the tall window of her castle to the grassy front lawn, and beyond that, to the scarlet iron fence that encircled the rock castle.

The scarlet iron fence that had separated her castle from the world outside—the world of human beings where time had passed by as if nothing had happened. Noone knew her castle stood there on the hill overlooking the deep blue sea. She did know those people who passed by the small winding road outside her fence. The regulars who she saw as babies, then children, adults, elderly, and when they did not show up anymore, it meant they had gone somewhere else or they had died. Then she saw new faces passing by. They came and they went away. Generations had passed. She was still here in her castle.

In a way, she was thankful noone knew the castle was here. No human being, ordinary human being, saw anything here other than rolling hills. Her castle was invisible. Her sorcery was strong enough to keep it this way and that was good because this castle stood on top of a chasm. The dark chasm led to an abyss deep down the earth where the demon still lived, still recuperated from his injury after their battle long ago.

Rogh, an ancient demon that had lurked below the surface for thousands millennias. She abhorred him to the core of her being, but her life had also become intertwined with him in the most bizarre way.

Her name was Sylve, a sorceress powerful enough to wound Rogh in a battle centuries ago. Now she stayed here in her castle, guarding the chasm below it. She and her followers—a group of twelve sorceress—were part of the Order of the Guardians of the Abyss. For millennias her family of powerful sorceresses and wizards had lived here, they swore an oath to guard the chasm and the abyss so the demon never harmed human beings. If only her daughter Evinia was still alive. If only things did not happen the way it had happened ...

Sylve's body shivered as emotions and memories tried to engulf her, she used her thin bony fingers to wipe off a couple tears that had started to bubble up at the corner of her eyes.

Human beings should never be harmed by Rogh.

She had to be strong. Her old body simply had to last. It just had to. But Rogh. Rogh got stronger these days. She could feel the dark energy that emanated from the abyss, making her feel sicker, older.

Rogh became stronger meant that his darkness weakened her and her sorcery further. Her worry grew ... especially because ...

A knock on the door startled Sylve.

"Come in!" she half-whispered, the voice that came out her mouth was hoarse and dry.

The oak door opened.

A young man walked in in slow, tentative steps as if he was not sure if he was allowed to be in the room.

He wore a simple grey tunic, black pants. His towering body had ripped muscles, the shape of which could be gleaned from his thin tunic. He had light blue eyes, pale skin, and raven-black, wavy, neck-length hair. There was a black tattoo in the shape of a jagged thick line that went from his left temple to his left jaw. The contrast between his blue eyes and dark hair added an otherwordly aura that surrounded him. He wore a long silver necklace with glistening golden sun as its pendant, and on his left wrist, he had a scarlet red iron bracelet, made from the same scarlet iron of the fence outside.

"You have sent for me, Lady Sylve?" he nodded his respect to Sylve, his deep voice echoed in the room.

"Arran. You are the gardener of this castle, and you seem to be able to do your work well. The back garden is full of plants we can eat. But—" Sylve sighed, and continued,"The abyss has sent more and more darkness up here. I can feel it. You should never, ever, take off your necklace. For your own good. Do you understand?" Sylve's voice was sharp and cold, like ice that served to cut through the heart. She did not mince her words, it was clear that she wanted to keep a certain distance from the man, Arran.

Arran stood straight facing Sylve. "I understand."

"Have you been practicing on your battle skills? Sword? Bow and arrows?"

"I have, Lady Sylve."

"You will fight with us if-if the demon ... awakes."

Arran nodded. "My battle skills are enough to help provide much protection for the castle."

Sylve took a long deep breath, faced Arran, her grey eyes pierced him, her thin lips trembled like she was trying to push back some anger.

"I hate you, Arran. I hate you so much, I hate that you are here. I hate all about you. You should never even be here existing!" Sylve blurted out her words and this time she let her tears flow freely from her eyes to her wrinkled cheek.

Arran stayed quiet, but his solid body swayed slightly. Each word of Sylve had stabbed him.

"I apologize for-for my existence."

Sylve turned to face the window again. Her chest heaved up and down as she battled more sobbing that had come.

"I hate you. And I hate myself for my weakness. I can kill you, but I am too weak to do it. I cannot just-just destroy you."

Arran took a deep breath. "You can kill me anytime you want, Lady Sylve. Noone would blame you for it. I am ready anytime you want to execute me. My life is in your hands."

Sylve was quiet for a while but she did not cry anymore. Her eyes had found their steely determination again.

She sighed and spoke again,"You are a taboo, Arran. You are the untouchable. Your life is cursed to stay in the shadow behind the scarlet fence. The silver necklace keeps you alive, though light will never find you. That is enough for me."

Arran was calm, he had long accepted his fate and he did not try to contest it or battle it.

"That silver necklace-please guard it well. You hear, Arran?"

Arran grabbed the necklace around his neck. "I will guard this."

For a fleeting moment, Sylve's gaze grew softer when it was trained on the necklace. "That necklace was created out of such pure love. Strength of love that has kept you alive, safe. So far. Though that necklace in the end is not for you."

The necklace glowed gently like it understood that it had become the topic of conversation now. Sylve saw it, then she threw her gaze away.

Arran sighed. "I have the premonition that this necklace will stay with me only. I do not see how—"

Sylve's gentle gaze grew somber and she waved her hand. "Go, Arran. Just-just go."

Arran stood for a few seconds longer as if he secretly hoped that Sylve would change her mind and let him stay longer, but Sylve threw her gaze away. He knew he had to leave indeed. So he did exactly that: Leave.

Sylve covered her mouth with her right palm, turned around fast to the window, and sobbed like a frightened child in front of the window.

There was one more thing.

One big worry for her.

Something of Rogh that she had grabbed and taken away when she wounded him centuries ago. She had buried it out there among the human beings. She could not risk it to get fed the dark energy from the chasm, from Rogh if she had kept it here in her enchanted castle.

She had protected it with her sorcery, but now her sorcery grew weaker. She dared not imagine the catastrophe if it was found by those kind, though simple-minded, human beings. Or if Rogh's second-in-command, his deputy, whom she had a strong premonition that that demon still lurking out there, shut out from the abyss, wounded from the battle too, now became strong enough to find it.

Her tears flowed more and more and her sobbing became louder.

Please. Please let it stay buried.