The traitor ran through the garden oasis defiling it with every drop of blood that seeped from his wound. A gift from his betrayed allies for his endeavors. Their shouts chasing after him in the hue of the never night that was the oasis. A glow of power that was Feralis, the nature god’s presence ever flowing from her slumbering chambers at it’s heart. This garden oasis the sanctuary of all discarded and this traitor an infiltrator of the old world. Betrayer employed by the diamond king with promises of reward for the expelled rebels undoing. 

Oh how close he’d come to unraveling their defenses. How nearly he came to open the way for t he diamond kings' mechanings. How did his commander figure it out? How did they spot his masterful subterfuge? How could he be cut so deeply? How could he be dying so assuredly as his feet carried him so quickly through the never night of these sanctuary gardens?

The sounds of flowing creeks and chiming noises of blowing leaves and the ever waking life that sheltered in the forest. They echo in his skull to the concussions of his every falling step in what was left of his fleeting life…

Till finally he came to its end and his end apparently at the edge of the cliffs that opened to the endless sea abyss. He could hear the waves crashing so far below. Black they were these nameless waves as they crashed at the cliff side’s base. echoing ever more into this tragic symphony’s harmonics. No horizon could be seen from his elevated perch with destiny as the ocean spilled into the sky unending. 

There he fell to his knees. Shaking in the puddle that was him ever draining from what remained.  

“No! I refuse. I cannot lose. I will not die in vain!” He screams. Reaching into his bag of things. He stirs and fiddles till his hand collects into it the artifact he’d been given. The head magician of the diamond king gave his apprentice this device. This totem. This cursed thing. Even to the touch it felt of a power so corrupt it burned so cold to its touch.  He was to activate it at the heart of this garden realm by where the goddess herself now slept in wait for the future goblin king to wake her for their destined wedding. 

No choice now the shouts grew closer. The light from fire carried pyres and even the breath of his aggressors became audible. 

“Find the traitor! He cannot be far!” 

“Kill the traitor!”

“Find him!”

“Never will I surrender!” He screams as he carves into the the ground. Stirring the puddle that was himself of red blood into a working spell. Finally enclosing its circle it activated instantly. 

The fire glowed renewed. Bubbled with power it smoked. Sizzled. And the skies above did fracture. As so did the ground below. As a creature black of form. Black of ooze molded itself from the smoldering. Before the goblin traitor it became. 

The goblin too afraid to speak bowed before this nameless beast. Whom sneered at the praying fool. 

Finally. It said without words. It thought into the realm’s reality. The goblin traitor felt it in his very bones as his very presence screamed in terror. 

“I serve! I serve!!” He pleads. Chokes. Begs. 

Of course you do. Insignificant. Tool. Fool.

It laughs and as it does the realm shutters as the gardens behind them begin to shutter. Violated by its mere gaze. The fauna wilting as weeds begin to sprout and coil. 

It is then that those who pursue arrive and surround the traitor. Thinking themselves victorious. 

“We’ve finally found you fool!”

“Arrest him. Restrain him. He will be judged!”

“If he survives.” One remakes

“You’re too late!” He screams back laughing maniacally. 

Yes.. they are… the being thinks into reality. Spilling its essence into the guards. They drop their weapons and grab their heads. Falling to their knees and struggle to resist. A fruitless attempt. 

“What is this?!” One calls out. 

“What have you done!?” Another one demands

As their eyes turn from bronze to black. They start to laugh. Picking up their weapons once more and begin attacking everything they once adored. Killing one another before the traitor. Till all are dead. 

The traitor rises back to his feet. No longer bleeding. No longer fearful. 

I give you power. Now raise these fools and do my bidding. Finish the summoning.

“Yes my master.” He replies almost robotic. This new energy flowing through him, so chaotic. So empowering. True power, so overwhelming. 

Almost effortlessly he raises them from their death. Then with what’s left he surges into the enclosed glyphs he’d etched into dirt ground. From which spews forth the nameless thing he now sworn all to. 

From out of it did it congeal. It’s every step corrupting everything. It laughs as it begins casting spells. It echoes from this realm into the planes. A spell to corrupt, a spell seeking out the doomed, a spell to capture souls as they attempt to pass through to what’s next. Gather them in preparation. For a greater spell of this being's intentions. For a sundering is soon to come. To shatter the complacent from their ivory towers. Defying fate for far too long. For the abyss it hungers. For the abyss it plunders.  

—————————

Meanwhile on Earth. 

Melory stands with her friends. Looking back at her what once was boyfriend. Her fiancé now as she looks to the ring she isn’t wearing gloves right now because of the rock upon it. The snow is beginning to fall. The blizzard is coming. One of which flakes do land upon and instantly turns to water. As other flakes hit her cheek not snow but rain. She feels a bit woozy. As if the world is literally crying. She gets the feeling it’s for her. 

“Melory! Come on get into the car.” One of her friends calls out climbing in. Corin stands beside the door he’s opened for her. 

“After you.” He calls out with a smile. 

“Of course.” She replies. Pushing down this feeling of impending something. It’s nothing. All in her head. The night is young and so is she. Adventure into life’s mystery for soon this day will be ancient history. Echoing into all eternity.