The world of Velpia was a vast one, having been through countless wars, and having a history of myriads of Eras.
Throughout time, the sole thing that remained consistent was the diversity between different races and their cultures.
The ones currently known to be alive being Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Kobolds, Lizardmen, Orcs, Giants and the good ol' Demons.
The last war happened only 500 years ago and lasted for 1000 years, with its after-effects still visible in the most of prominent battlefields.
Not a single known library in today's Era contained records of what truly happened in that war, but one thing that was accepted world-wide was the fact that the war—also known as The Era of Realm Rending—decimated countless civilizations.
Some became stories to scare the children at night to make them sleep, whereas some others became myths lazy people speculated on while the rest were lost in the passage of time, forgotten for the eternity to come.
Few of the unfortunate ones who are still gossiped about in today's time are: Pheonix, Titans, Faeries, Basilisks, Nine-tailed Foxes. With many of the Merfolk factions nearly going extinct.
One such unfortunate faction belonged to the demon race—Immortal demons.
No matter how strong they were, they were brought to suffer the bitter taste of utter extinction.
The whole of what was once considered a grand faction, was annihilated in a mere hundred years—the amount of time worth equivalent to a couple years in the grander picture.
But unbeknownst to everyone, there was one survivor—the one who cried for everyone that died that day—an 8 year old kid.
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Inside a huge cavern situated under the huge plateau located near the southern border of the demonic continent—there he was, covered from head to toe in blood—blood of his kin, and of his own.
The plateau was situated at the edge of the demonic continent, touching the vast sea separating the world into 6 pieces.
The cavern was spacious enough to house the whole faction in its entirety. Having only three major entrances, two facing the east and north of the demonic continent, while the third entrance faced the merciless ocean.
Two weeks ago, the place was full of vitality and life—bustling with countless trees of various species unique to the demonic continent—and its natural inhabitants—demonic beasts, reared by immortal demons.
But now?
All that lay there was ruins, soaking wet with the still warm red blood.
The lively trees? They were all decimated to smithereens.
The houses and buildings? They looked more like the dwellings of undead, more than those of living.
The beasts? Most either fled or were made into meat-paste to add to the 'decòr' of the place.
All was the result of an ambush perfected and perfectly planned through the years, just for this moment.
In the centre of it all, there lay that kid, trying to scream but no voice came out—showing his obviously tired voice box.
All around him were dead bodies, spread far and wide, to the point he couldn't see the end of it.
As he cried the tears of grief, there were two bodies in his tight embrace, holding them so tight that his small and frail arms were shaking, but he refused to let go—fearing that the his loved ones would turn cold the moment he released them from his warmth.
Anyone looking at him would have a sudden urge to puke, because he was covered in blood—with bits and pieces of internal organs sticking out from all over his body like topings.
Making it difficult to perceive his complexion or any other detail, but one thing that stood out the most was the small horn protruding out from the left side of his forehead.
All around him lay bodies of his kind, strewn and rend from different angles—some having their limbs torn off, while others having their whole bodies torn in half—all of them sporting two horns on their heads, unlike the boy that was laying on the ground.
Outside the cavern, the full moon peeked out of the clouds, as if observing everything that was happening.
The waves of ocean water crashing against the base of the plateau were nowhere to be seen—being utterly calm and unmoving—adding to the mysteriousness of the situation.
Under the gaze of the full moon, there were a dozen white robed figures standing in the air—as if standing on the ground—forming a circle with a wide diameter—wide enough to encompass the whole plateau. On the back of each of them was the symbol of the Sun, spreading its rays in all directions.
As if scripted, they all raised their hands in unison.
As they did, the bracelets hidden under the cuffs of their robes shone brightly, bright enough to blind anyone who looked at them for more than a minute.
Suddenly, dark clouds formed above their heads. The next instant, the sky was filled with raging thunderstorms—forming sinkpools in the dark clouds—blocking the moon light entirely, cloaking the place in darkness.
At the same time, a huge if not humongous magic circle appeared in the space surrounded by the dozen mysterious figures. It was made through interlocking and weaving various shapes of various sizes, some small enough that they were barely noticeable, while others had to overlap to even fit in the bigger circle.
Soon, there was heavy rain, Filled with the occasional roaring of thunder.
In the blink of an eye, the whole cavern was flooded.
"Ice age..."
As if the thunderstorm noticed that the cavern was wholly drowned, it changed from thunderstorm to ice storm, all under the span of a few seconds.
As the first chunk of ice touched the water pocket below, it started spreading as if a chain reaction was started.
In the next instant, the clouds dispersed. But their work was done.
Everything was frozen.
Inside the cavern, everything was frozen in clear ice.
The once mutilated corpses were everywhere in the ice, some were a few metres above the ground, while others were touching the ceiling—all because of the flood that filled it.
In the centre of the huge ice chunk, there he was—the sole survivor of the immortal demons—frozen, hugging the two corpses from before.
I'm back fellas.
only to leave again...
hope we meet each other again sometime soon.
:D
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