THE FORSAKEN LAND OF GENèSE | LOST KINGDOM | TOWER | BASEMENT
600
Solvanel opened his eyes to the light.
But it was fading.
Her words echoed inside his head. [ Make no mistake, little shepherd, all things come back to the beginning. This was never the power of your dreams. ]
Confusion saturating his bones as the underground chamber dimmed—
Then what was this change within his mind and body?
[One day, there was a craftsman who stumbled upon a ruin.
A master himself, he knew better than to blame the winds that broke through the glass, nor the quakes that ripped the foundation apart.
But still, he was enraged—simply enraged by something he could not see.
Hands of beauty rather than stability.
Stacking bricks to be known rather than to exercise his knowings.
How could a father make a son who blows away in the wind?
—a mother make a daughter who stumbles on her feet?
So, he spat on the bricks half-buried in the dirt. Of what remained, he gave hammer the rest of his comrades had never seen. And finally, just when they thought he’d vented sufficiently, he fell and cracked his head on the last remaining brick.]
Inspected violently for spots of weakness.
Mercilessly breaking what needed to be broken.
[When he woke up, he built an entire city upon the foundation of that rock.]
And finally, rebuilt without impurities.
Solvanel stepped forward, expecting to drag one of his feet along.
Instead, the movement was easier than it had ever been, taking him by surprise. Mid-fall, he pushed himself off the ground with the reflex of a single hand, launching himself into a smooth recovery, both feet firmly planted.
A deep breath of astonishment.
It felt like fire in his lungs; his energy fully recovered.
What was this heat coursing through him, if not the strength to hold up a city?
Solvanel lifted his hand to adjust his wrappings…
—then recoiled five steps’ distance in a single bound, tripping again over the bloody spear.
Thankfully, it remained dormant.
But that was hardly the concern now.
Something shone in the hollow of his palm—a gathering radiance he had never seen before.
Solvanel narrowed his eyes. Could those be…
Solvanel
The Light That Came From The Heavens
Scourge of Dunreach
Race
Human - (50%)
??? -
Character
The Shepherd
Nothing’s Whim
Sin-Eater
Pervert
Abilities
Discarded View (Assimilating Breakthrough…)
Twelve Pillars
???
He turned his hand around in amazement.
These were the characters of Serpentine.
Solvanel was familiar with his name, as well as that of Dunreach village, but the little he learned of the language was the little his grandmother learned on her own. It took him days to decipher the Exodus stele because he practically didn’t know shit!
Ahem…
It seemed the old man’s tongue was still there, after all.
Most of these words should have been completely foreign to him. And they were... no, the translation came clear as day. But context? There was none for most of them.
[Discarded View - Evolved!]
Evolved?
The characters shifted again as he focused on the name of one of his so-called abilities.
DISCARDED VIEW
De celui qui en avait assez vu.
Allows the character to see past the ember of physicality.
I. Follow the movements of the divine breath.
II. A limited glimpse into the composition.
From the one who’d seen enough…
Did his curse have something to do with that dream?
No wonder the tree was inconsolable. Was it happier now that it lost its ability to see?
Hmm. The Shepherd, Nothing’s Whim, Sin-eater, and Pervert are all self-explanatory. What of-
Wait a second…
His lip corners twitched as he went over that section of the script.
The Pervert? This was clearly a joke played by the demoness!
He was nothing of the sort!
After all, she was the one who…
Who...
Unspeakable.
His cheeks turned red just thinking about it.
Thankfully, he was the only one who could see that line of text.
He let out a breath, calming the stutter in his pulse. The one that truly piqued his interest was this:
TWELVE PILLARS (0/12)
Choose with wisdom. Lead with patience.
The shepherd cannot keep the flock alone.
Appoint twelve dogs to guard the pastures.
Just then, the spear pulsed bright red, capturing his attention.
SPEAR OF THE RED SEA
Sworn to ???
Rank: ???
???
The other words twisted and blurred, changing too rapidly to follow.
Observing closely, he thought to himself, Are all weapons like this?
No. If the demoness considered it one of her treasures, its ranking should be among the best. Then was it the quality of the craftsmanship or the weapon itself that was purposefully concealing the information?
If only there were something to-
An azure line tore through space, a whistle trailing behind it.
Solvanel veered left just in time.
The dart quivered in the stone, lodged exactly where his throat would’ve been.
AZURE NEEDLE
Sworn to ???
Lame éveillée
Rank: A
Rejetée pour sa désobéissance, cette lame a juré de tuer son propriétaire d'origine. Si seulement elle pouvait se souvenir de qui c'était...
MENTAL LINK
Allows the character to command the weapon with a thought.
UNRULY
Doesn't care what you think.
He swallowed. How ominous.
Solvanel fell back, laughing.
The carefree cacophony echoed mockingly off the treasury walls, but he didn’t stop. And in that moment, he thought he never would.
How strangely he’d been acting these past few days!
Swearing loyalty to a demon, of all things, to save the world?
Battling a demoness to prove his worth?
Only now, after reading the serpentine inside the needle, did the revelation strike him. That all this time, he’d only been asleep!
“This blade has sworn to kill its original owner!” He repeated. “If only it could remember who that was! How can you swear to kill someone you don’t even know? What a damn stupid weapon, you are!”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!”
Asleep!
“HAHAHAHA!”
Asleep!
“HAHAHAHA!”
All this time he’d been asleep!
That little girl was probably trying her hardest to shake him awake!
What was this sudden turn of events that was far too late to save anybody?
What was this power if not the one of his dreams?
It must either be a dream… or one big damned joke.
Solvanel stopped laughing.
The needle buzzed angrily, unable to set itself free.
What a damned stupid weapon…
Solvanel kicked the damned thing into the distance.
"As if anyone would want such a thing."
The needle stopped mid-air.
A chill up his spine.
Eyes wide, he retreated several steps…
It adjusted until the point aligned unerringly with his forehead.
Zoom!
The young man broke into a sprint.
Solvanel tore up the mound, the ground slipping beneath him as he danced away from the murderous hum of his own rebellious weapon. “Stop! Stop! Stop it! I am your master, am I not?”
The needle did not obey. It righted itself from a miss and circled overhead.
His boot caught on something.
He stumbled, cursed, then looked down.
Solvanel palmed the stick and raised it high.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The change was immediate.
The needle's angry hum softened to a whimper. It wavered in the air, the bold script along its length dimming. Slowly, reluctantly, it had begun to descend while fading into a familiar grayish light.
Then, instead, it took off flying in the direction of the staircase.
Solvanel felt a change inside; the balance of his breath had shifted ever so slightly.
Weapon Integration — Azure Needle (Fail)
[-1000% Compatibility]
This weapon is plotting to kill you.
BITCH
Penalty for low compatibility
Your weapon thinks you are a coward who can’t fight his own battles.
Respect: -1%
BLESSING OF THE WIND — RESTRICTED
The gales sense an old friend inside your soul.
The character is lighter on their feet.
Pervert and Bitch…
Solvanel refused to be disdained by a piece of metal. His grandfather would be turning in his grave! I only need to get my hands on you, needle. Just you wait…
Halfway up the mound, he felt a familiar tug from the crook.
Curiosity whispered to look into the bark, but a voice in the back of his head said otherwise. There had been a slight stabbing pain behind the eyes ever since he glimpsed the spear. With what little he knew of his current abilities, some things were better left unseen. Curiosity would gladly kill him if given the opportunity.
As if to confirm his suspicions, the characters suddenly disappeared altogether.
A strange sort of fatigue slammed into him as he finished his journey up the mound, crippling every aspect of his being apart from the flesh.
His body still felt pristine—divinely so—but his mind unravelled. Thoughts smashed into one another, fusing, mutating, whispering in patterns he could not recognise. The fire in his chest dimmed to a comfortable lull, a cradle of warmth urging him toward passivity, coaxing him to do nothing, to be nothing at all.
Compensating for the strange lull, a cool clarity stirred within the crook…
Solvanel breathed in the energy.
It was enough to ground him in the present. Reminding him of who he was and what he needed to do.
The tree was about it in all its naked glory, exposing the surface of its bark. Its jagged, irregular branches grown to reach out and grasp the heavens.
However, no longer were they waiting for the day they would reach down and pull it up by its many hands.
The giving tree—keepsake of a forgotten demoness—in the midst of coming undone, shedding motes of light which drifted up toward a sky they would never see.
Lanterns released into the darkness.
Many such departures overseen by the previous lightbringer.
He never had the chance to go out with them on those sombre village nights, never glimpsed what they described in hushed, reverent tones.
For the boy who once hungered to see the world—yet had known nothing but darkness—she understood that the temptation would be too powerful for him to leave the wrappings untouched.
All it takes is a single look…
For the first time since his birth… Alone. Unseen. No sheep around to witness his gaze.
Solvanel slipped the wrappings free.
And as the final root rose, untethered from its sacred ground like a drifting memory, a glimmer surfaced beneath the soil.
The shepherd stepped closer, and there—half-swallowed by time, cradled in the hollow where the tree once stood—was a crown of thorns.
Seemingly buried for centuries, yet unmarred by decay.
Its twisted vines shimmered faintly, as if remembering something, as if reluctant to be seen again.
He reached for it slowly, the crook in his other hand responding with a wary hum.
Not forged for royalty, yet no less sovereign.
This was not a symbol of rule.
This was a symbol of suffering.
And still…
Something in his soul told him it belonged to him.
? Over the years, I often found myself thinking about our time in that place. Asking myself why those brothers stole out and left me behind. But now, I think I finally understand what they were trying to accomplish in pushing each other way.
? One simply can’t see the end from the heights of his beginning. The first sin of man was not greed, Solvanel. It was love. So, please. If you come across a child who falls from the sky, know he didn’t jump of his own accord. For it takes a loving hand to push a hero over the edge. And another one to catch him if he doesn’t stop falling. ?
Crown of Thorns
Bound to: The Light That Came From The Heavens
Rank: ???
[Aspect of Apotheosis]
Il y avait une fois trois enfants qui tombèrent par hasard dans un jardin.
Le premier était un gar?on souvent perdu dans l'ombre. Le deuxième était un rayon de soleil violent au c?ur d'or rayonnant. Et le troisième était une fille qui accordait plus d'importance à l'amour qu'à toute autre chose.
C'est cet amour même qui condamne toute la création.
Pourquoi ne s'est-elle pas arrêtée pour réconforter le quatrième enfant qu'elle vit s'enfuir ?
CURSE OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS - I
Thou shalt not kill.
