Age of The Dark Queen

100 4 8
                                    

One thousand years ago, long before ships took to the skies, there was a magnificent elven city named Zalphadaria. Much more refined than most elves in modern Gemina, the zalphadarians prided themselves with elegance, tradition, discipline, and honor.

Among them were some of the most powerful mystics the entire realm has ever known, even rivaling that of the astromancers. They firmly believed in using light magic for the greater good, protect and serve their people. These were truly benevolent people. All, but one...

Her name was Auria Therisia. She was a tall, thin elf who happened to be one of the most powerful sorceresses amongst the her fellow elves. As with most elves, her exceptional longevity allowed her to maintain a youthful appearance, with such beauty to match. Yet, such as nature itself, a beautiful exterior often hides a great horror. Her motives were... unsettling, to say the very least.

Deep down below the an the elven council's grand castle, there was a large, eerie lab, one that that a wicked witch would ordinarily be comfortable in. In that lab, Auria was reading various spell books that specialized in the darkest of mystic arts. One such book, perhaps the darkest one of them all, was the Grimoire of Mortron, the Netherrealm. Auria was particularly invested in this one.

One chapter, which Auria read very intently, dealt with corruption and alteration. In her mind, that meant how to transform living creatures in to ghastly monsters that would obey her every will. For the occasion, she had a rat in a cage, which was making every effort to escape its prison. Once she finished the chapter, it was time to put the spell to the test.

Auria turned her attention to the rat, which started to hiss at her out of fear. Holding her fist tight, holding the book in one hand wide open, she chanted. "By the will of Calvore, Ruler of the Netherrealm, may this mortal beast be perfected, its power shall overwhelm. Its loyalty to me, undying and true, once it is free, chaos will brew."

And just like that, a dark purple beam of light shot right out of the book and transformed the innocent rat into a giant, horrific monstrosity. To confirm the creatures loyalty, Auria held her hand out to the beast, showing no fear whatsoever. The creature walked over to her, sniffing her hand. Auria watched intently, having a spell behind her back in case things went south. To her delight, the creature licked her hand and bowed before her. Her spell, was a success.

Yet, before Auria could put the monsters loyalty to the test, two twin members of the elven high council, by the names of Andar and Ferron, barged in to cease her experiments. They gaze upon the monster with horror, as it charged to attack them. Before the monster could use its razor sharp claws to cut them in two, the two elven sorcerers trapped it in a mystic bubble, which it tried in vain to escape. They both then gaze upon Auria, with very upset faces.

"Auria Theresia, you shall face trial for this!" Shouted Ferron. Auria then wore a grimace on her face. She was not happy to have her work intervened, not one bit.

"Auria Therisia March Forward!" Shouted the grandmaster, Valrick Goldfire, in a powerful, deep voice. "You stand before the council of Zalphadaria today for committing acts of witchcraft. What's worse, you did so within our hallowed halls, beneath our very feet. How do you justify your actions?" Auria let out a rather unsettling chuckle, much to the dismay of her present peers.

"Justify?" Auria questioned, wearing an arrogant grin, "Why should I have to justify my actions? Are you all so blind to the truth? Clearly, none of you have any knowledge of the true power the dark arts hold. Or more importantly, the power it could give us."

"Dark magic is indeed powerful, Auria." Said a female council member, Daria Goldstone, with long gold hair and skin white as snow. "However, need I remind you on why it is called dark magic? The dark energy that it has is not only destructive, it is terribly corruptive. Once it has a hold on you, there is no going back."

Mysticon OriginsWhere stories live. Discover now