Ark of the Light

PROLOGUE: Night Falls On Destiny

Darkness flooded the kingdom, seeping through the cracks of stone walls into the homes and hearts of innocents. Like an infection, it spared no one in the Kingdom of Solomon. Men, women, old, and young alike fell victim to the dark magic. The spell worked slowly at first, digging its claws in so by the time it was detected the victim was too far gone and had already spread the viral magic to those around them. Ashen flesh, fatigue, and bouts of madness began early on. Next, vessels in the eyes would rupture, turning their eyes crimson until their blood became black. As their eyes bled, their hair would fall from their scalps. Screams could be heard throughout the streets, teeth and nails loosening and dropping from the ill, only to be replaced by claws and fangs and a manic urge to see others suffer. No one could determine how it was being transmitted, turning to priests and shamans to cure the illness. Magic was the source, and its curse could only be contained for so long.

Maroth pulled her hood further down, cloaking her face and allowing the shadows to cascade around her. The moonlight guided her path up cobblestone steps. The tower's draft sent a chill through the air, but Maroth's skin prickled for other reasons. It would only be a matter of time before her protection charm wore off and Queen Haizina's hellhounds picked up her scent. While it was too late to save Solomon, perhaps she could prevent Haizina's reign from destroying the rest of the world. All she had to do was make it to the top of the tower and find the All-Seeing Eye. The gods would not be pleased, but the All-Seeing Eye could change the wheels of fate. The earth shook beneath her feet. Maroth's pace quickened, as she raced up the tower.

Around her, the torch lights died. The charm had run its course. She would have mere minutes to find what she was looking for and cast the spell then. Reaching the top of the tower, Maroth opened the rotting wood door. Dust lifted, mixing with the thick, musty air of the long-abandoned chamber. The West Tower had been sealed decades ago by King Heron after the Purging Wars, claiming the artifacts were too unpredictable and too dangerous to be left in the hands of a single man. The treasures inside made up a thief's dream.

But for now, all of that had to be left aside. Maroth made her way to the center of the room. On a pedestal awaited a glass orb, about the diameter of a single hand's length. The All-Seeing Eye. It would be humanity's salvation. Taking the crystal in her hands, Maroth brushed away the dust that had built up. Closing her eyes, Maroth focused on chanting a spell. The sphere pulled at her magic, draining her power. If it worked, the spell would take her life. A few months ago, the thought of sacrificing her life made her laugh. No amount of pain or payment would be worth her future, but no longer was it just her future. If she didn't do this, she would die anyways.

Images flashed behind her eyelids, bright flashes of color. Seven angels shined with the light of the gods, each of them gleaming in the glow of their earthen elements. They came together, forming a ring. In the center stood a figure cloaked in darkness, a key. This future wasn't solidified yet, the covenant not sealed as the images blurred. It would take magic to bring them together. Maroth dug her fingers in, ignoring the burn. She would be the seal upon the ark of light. A scream broke though her lips, her umber brown skin scalding, as her magic ripped into the fabric of time.

Pulling away, Maroth stumbled to keep her footing, struggling to take in enough breath to fill her lungs. Another scream tore through the room. Anger saturated the air. Maroth gaze snapped to the door. Standing in the arch of the door frame, Queen Haizina gnashed her fangs. Her fist curled, coiling tendrils of dark magic around her hand. Her hair fell in disarray, madness already having destroyed her mind.

"You Witch," Queen Haizina screeched, dark magic lashing out. The inky tendrils shot out, yanking at Maroth. Their darkness bit into her flesh. Maroth bit her lower lip, ignoring the feeling of hot blood sliding down her thighs in favor of scowling at the enraged queen.

"Your too late, no mere demon can defeat the gods."

"They have to pay," Queen Haizina growled, her voice low and horse. Maroth remembered a day when the queen was only a princess, her voice like fresh honey in hot tea—warm and smooth, full of innocents. Those days were long gone. Like their youth, it was stolen by greedy men with blackened hearts. Once vibrant eyes had become a crimson abyss. A crown of blackfire anointed the Queen's brow. "You could stand by my side Maroth. This world could be yours. You know what they did to me, you know what they deserve. Now I have an army, and army you could command."

"I'm not a fighter, you know that." Maroth strained against the darkness. The cords only pulled tighter.

"But you are the only person who could ever possibly ever understand me," Queen Haizina said, as she glided forward. She placed a palm against Maroth's cheek. Her icy, ashen skin felt foreign and wrong against Maroth's pulsing body—cold nothingness meeting the warmth of life, blood, and magic. "We don't have to be enemies, my little witchling. Once, you held my hand and promised me a life of freedom and love. Now, I can provide it for us. I don't want to bring you harm; I didn't want it to come to this."

"But you did hurt me, Haizina, and now it's too late," Maroth said, holding back the sorrow filling her heart. Regret would do her no good. The tendrils wrapped around Maroth's neck.

"Then, I must apologize for this." Queen Haizina leaned in, icy lips meeting Maroth's. For that moment, Maroth let herself fall into the kiss, holding onto the memory of the once young princess. In a different story, theirs would have been a tale of love. In a different story, this kiss would not be one of betrayal, but one of promise. However, the gods had not destined them for happiness. As the queen pulled away, Maroth watched the last bits of light fade from her eyes.

"As am I," Maroth murmured. The black coils tightened its grip on her neck. Maroth chanted the final words of the spell. The queen screeched, yanking back. White light tore Maroth apart, fragment by fragment. Her life would be the All-Seeing Eye's toll. All she could do now was pray to the gods that her magic would be enough, that the prophecy would come true.

Seven Angels of the Earth Shall Join in the Ashes, Forming the Ring and the Key to Ending a Princess of Darkness, a Shadow Queen. For this is the Ark of the Light.