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“No, judgment has lain claim on her life, Syhton shall die for the greater good. Her kind mustn’t be allowed to live. Human chosen by gods to be their heir must never overstep their boundaries. I’m afraid she has humiliated the word of what it means to be associated with a higher being, for that, she shall pay. I gave thee ample time to find a solution, yet, there’s nothing I see but cries and sorrow.” A dimension invisible by most, three entities stood with one levitating. The God of Death stood with his scythe at her neck. A clean-cut severed the angelic wings of which she fell into the abyss. Creation intervened to seal her fate as the Goddess of Stars. The ever-eternal darkness sprinkled with her broken wings.

“How could you,” said Qhildir in ire, “-she all but tried to attain divinity, she tried to become a god, what is so wrong about that?”

“What is wrong?” asked he rhetorically; “-angels are nothing more than aids to a god. Does thee think a servant has the power to rule an empire? I think not. Look at thine lover, she’s become a goddess, at last, her wish is complete and so is my duty as the destroyer. Begone and never dare make another suffer the same fate.” Vivid to blurry then loud, dream broke at the strike of the clock. The time and date showed 28th May, 06:00.

‘Why did I have the dream of Lord Death?’ awoke Staxius inside Elendor, Lazuli to be precise, ‘-what does it entail. Did something happen?’ pondering on why it occurred, the curtains parted in a smooth motion, the light from outside came as a much-needed awakening.

It had been a few days since Eira’s surprise party. The latter went over nicely, guest from over the kingdom came in good faith. Her mood grew better, the sibling’s song touched her heart – and soon, rumors of the voice of Julius and the prodigious Lizzie spread. The Ardanian Gazette tried desperately in getting a sneak peek for the populous. Though, as Julius said to the reporters, ‘-the song was for the First princess of Arda, there isn’t a need to replay what has been said.’

Quick to step onto the well-trimmed yard, the villa, equipped with an outdoor pool, gave onto the north-western mountain range. The added river passing beneath all but augmented the price. One would expect a building to be on firm ground – well, most would be wronged by this particular estate. The Villa in its atrociously expansive compound was built over a ravine with trees from the other bank hanging over.

.....

‘This place sure is beautiful,’ thought he holding onto the strong balustrade after which flowed the water. The harshness of the fall, the pace at which the liquid dug itself to head into lower grounds – nature was a beast of her own league.

“Lord Haggard,” said a lady walking across an elevated platform under which rested the pool.

“Lady Alison,” said he breathing out the mouth, “-the mansion sure is an impressive work of architecture.”

“There’s no need to flatter us so,” said she holding a warm cup, “-lord Elon is very fond of the river, thus we made a villa atop it.” Her words enough told how powerful the man was. The way the platforms were layered was naught to miraculous. The villa itself, a mansion as big as the one in Rosespire, held a roof with choppers waiting to pounce. Guards were stationed constantly around the vicinity, on the opposing bank, amidst the forest. Saying security was tight would have been an understatement.

“About the Elon Empire, have thee spoken with my secretary?”

“Yes, we’ve discussed the future. Considering our standing, Elon is far more powerful than Phantom. I mean it with no disrespect. Meldorino is a lost cause, and from what sources have revealed, their attempt at making watches is god awful.”

“Let me guess,” he paused, “-the next best course of action is to co-found a company to fight those in the Alphian Empire.”

“Yes, not only that, just as Patek backed the other four conglomerates – we from Elon will become one with Phantom.”

“An alliance?”

“Yes, thee with the weapons and us with the money and influence.”

“What of profits?” asked he.

“We need no part in the money, it’s orders from Lord Elon, he sees thee in a good light.”

“I see, Mr. Elon is generous?”

“No, far from it,” she laughed to sip her drink, “-master is in his study. Tis the reason I came, he’s called on you.”

“Very well,” he nodded, “-I appreciate the help.” A press of a button called a lift, and thus he headed to the office/study, a mix of both for a soon to be retired man.

*Knock, knock,*

“Come in.”

“You called for me?” asked he stepping into a minimalistic room with a desk and three chairs.

“Come on in, Majesty,” said he with arms behind his back whilst staring onto the forest. “Nature is a lady I wish to always keep by mine side.”

“Yes, she truly is amazing.” Birds flew, the wildlife moved as the shuffling current strolled amidst their habitat.

“Staxius, I personally don’t heed to the social differences of a person. To me, a beggar and a king are the same as in they breathe the same air and shit the same.”

“I know,” returned he, “-people are equal for we are bound by life and death.”

“Good. Do you know the reason I chose you?” he turned sternly.

“What does thee mean by ‘choose’ you?”

“The Elon Empire doesn’t have an heir; I’ve never gotten married nor fallen in love. I always figured the underworld to stain the future generations I would bear. A part of me wishes for everything to crumble into nothingness. It’s the whim of an old man,” shaking his head with care, “-sorry, the rambling of an old man might be boresome to the youth.”

“Not at all,” he smiled, “-I did come to witness what a man of thy reach has accumulated in wise.”

“Well, I’m sure the details are being negotiated by our assistants, the company I mean.”

“Yes,” said he sternly.

“Then, Shadow of Phantom, I have a few assignments thee must complete.”

“Assignments?”

“Yes – my age doesn’t permit me to move freely any longer. Elendor is a hotbed for the Dark-Guild’s activity, the Queen knows of our presence too.”

“Is this relating to the gang-activity at the south?”

“Oh, so you know of the conflict?”

“Yes, my sources are pretty well informed.”

A few weeks ago, trouble began to brew at the border of Elendor and Dreqai. Imposters using the DG’s name went around selling drugs. More specifically, pills, meds, things used to have one fall into another’s power. The distributor came from overseas. The side-effects: users became mindless dolls wanting to do anything for a shot at tasting the forbidden fruit. The news did well to gloss over the issues. Public safety kept the matter hidden. The was no clue on who or what had imported the item, the resellers were far worse than the consumers – dolls who only bought and sold.

The lack of sustenance led to violence, the money ran dry, and the smaller gangs took to the streets. People were murdered and thrown into the lake. The news of someone being stabbed became so common the populous stopped bothering.

“We’ve found one of the main gangs distributing the damned pill,” gritted Elon, “-go to the Village of Earn, the gang calls themselves ‘Paste’. Shadow, I request this as the Overlord, bring upon death to those who dare to fool our produce.”

“As thee wishes,” the emotionless gaze turned to one murderous.

“I’ll have a team be readied...”

“No need,” he interjected, “-I can handle a few gangs on my own.”

“Weapons?”

“Unnecessary,” a sharp turn had him face the door, “-have the details transferred to Phantom – expect their heads on thine desk.”

“As you wish,” nodded the old man with the door closed, ‘-Paste isn’t a gang. It’s part of a family linked to one of the extended branches of Cimier. They’re in no way, weak. Let’s see if Shadow is talk or a true man of action.’

“Master, I’ve received the location,” said éclair.

“Take command of one of their helicopters.”

“Lord Staxius,” said Alison, “-shall I have transport readied?”

“No need,” he brushed off her offer and power-walked to the balustrade.

“WAIT, DON’T GO FURTHER!”

He jumped, “-WHAT IS HE THINKING?” rushed to see the damage, “I’ll be back later,” said he hanging off a rope ladder of the helicopter.

‘-H-how,’ immediate to stare the helipad, one of theirs went missing.

“Lady Alison, it suddenly just took off!” exclaimed a disarrayed guard.

“I see that,” said she rolling her eyes, ‘-what sort of plan does thee have in mind?’

The village of Earn, built by the older generation, was a place of historical significance. The war of Dreqai and Elendor, long before peace, ended here, tis where the myth says one of Goddess Syhton’s feathers landed. A massive cathedral, as well as an observatory, was made a few miles from where the people lived. Access to the observatory was restricted as scholars studied the stars. The Cathedral, a loving mother of a building, accommodated any and all. People from far or near, people of color or not, humans or not, no discrimination, no hate, nothing but the genuine wish to do good, an asylum for those seeking providence.

The chopper landed at an abandoned barn surrounded by overgrown wheat. “Why is everything desolate?”

“The field was abandoned due to mana poisoning from a monster who once terrorized the area.”

“What happened to it?” he cut across the field to end at a dirt-path.

“The Order sent mages to deal with the monster, and thus the result.”

“Why don’t they use it, the land seems healthy from what I sense.”

“They are scared,” replied éclair, “-the local news did a documentary on why it has been abandoned. The people say it would be an insult to eat from what has been tainted.”

Dirt path to a one narrow and eerie, the field led into the vastness of a forest. The coming dusk made an otherwise normal outline seem scarier. Toppled with the strange sounds one hears when the body is alert, rumors led to it being named the Screaming Forest.

“There are often bodies of young decomposed girls found naked and dismembered. The atrocities of this otherwise normal village never make it to television.”

“Tis the disadvantage of living in a village, the community is reclusive and rarely mingles with the cities. As long as the tax is paid, the kingdom has no qualm in how it’s run,” explained he fearlessly breaking sticks and leaves. More often than not, the ‘screaming’ of the forest came to nothing more than the agonizing death of the prey.

The walk lasted a while until a break in the darkness announced the village. Pyres were set ablaze along the entrance. ‘Are they warding off evil spirits?’ wondered he now walking onto a better, less tiring, gravel path. For a place made of concrete and stone, the first impression, the news recounted by éclair, pointed to being archaic in belief.

‘What’s that sound?’ a few meters from entering, muffled stomping and varying lights gave a hint of a ceremony or event. Quick to leap, he landed atop one of the three-story buildings and made his way towards the noise.

‘Oh no,’ paused to rest against a slated tiled roof, ‘-this can’t be real.’

A massive fire burnt in the village square – bonfire with figures chanting and dancing. The noise made by the song, the crackling of the wood, all but hid the real truth, people were being burnt alive.

‘Help me,’ said the charred body of one of the victims.

“éclair, is there any report of this on the news?”

“No, master, none.”

“Then record it,” said he wearing the glasses, “-I want details on those who are dancing aimlessly around the fire. There’s a reason we need to find answers. This may be more than a gang-related activity, I’m beginning to question the integrity of this village.”