Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land

by Alex Rey

  An immense wave of pain formed in Leyoht’s chest upon making impact with the icy ground. This sensation enveloping his entire body, he began to cough up a small stream of blood.

  Although he hadn’t any idea of it at first, two of the enormous bird-like creatures were bringing what seemed to be a robed, male human down to the ground. Coughing a small spot of the snow into a pink color, Leyoht’s ears twitched as the human’s feet made contact with the ground.

  Strangely enough, however, the sound of the human’s feet touching the snow wasn’t that of a crunch. Rather than crunching, the snow released what seemed to represent a blowing noise.

  Such a sound vibrating in Leyoht’s ears, the young owlet gave a slight struggle in picking himself up to take a look at the human. As a small series of blood still dripped from his beak, Leyoht placed a dumbfounded expression on his face upon letting the human’s figure sting his eyes.

  Instead of being made of skin and blood, this human was composed entirely of what seemed to be smoke and ash. Another type of human? Leyoht silently screeched. An enormous sense of fear overwhelming his mind, he allowed his blood to freeze once again. Unable to see the human’s face, as it was covered by a part of his clothing, Leyoht decided to listen to whatever it had to tell him.

  “Join us once more!” the human commanded through a familiar voice.

  “I-it’s—y-you?” Leyoht asked through a series of stammering. “And—h-how do you know my name?” But no words made their way through the human’s mouth—causing Leyoht’s fear to grow even more.

  The snowy owl watched as the strange human made a small rotation of his own two hands.

  Taking notice of such a gesture, the large, skeletal creatures in the sky took off toward the black ball, Leyoht’s bony acquaintances resting within their beaks.

  Was it all a dream? Was any of this really happening? Were the images of giant, skeletal creatures orbiting around a purple hue all faked? Were they mere pictures his mind made up for him?

  At first Leyoht thought the black sphere was a solid—but then the skeletons passed right through it—as if it was a portal. Swept off his feet, the human’s weak exterior was sucked up by the dark light. Where are they going? wondered Leyoht.

  For a split-second, silence split the snowy owl’s ears. Was it all over? Were these skeletons to leave him here on the empty land of white sheets and crystal clouds?

  But no—it wasn’t over. Leyoht it all too well at this point: once somebody started attacking him, they wouldn’t stop until they were finished. Feeling an enormous gust of wind pull him toward the void in the sky, Leyoht clutched onto the ground with his two talons.

  Bits and pieces of earth started falling out of the ground—one of which had Leyoht’s claws stuck in it. Without warning, the mound of dirt flew toward the black void.

  Making his unintended ascent toward the black core, Leyoht gained realized as an open feeling sprouted within his mind while the rest of his body was being pulled by the wind. It was a feeling which caused him to believe he could fly to every single corner on Earth.

  However, this mental sensation came to its end when Leyoht suddenly realized he was slowly dying from lack of oxygen. Why can’t I breathe? the confused owlet asked himself. What’s going on?

  It wasn’t long when Leyoht’s entire body was ripped apart by the strange, black void in the sky. Once taken apart, however, his particles were drawn to the void—and sucked into its interior. Fortunately for him, the sensation of being disintegrated was totally painless.

  --

  Leyoht woke up and found himself in an unfamiliar tree. What’s going on? he asked himself. Rather than being held high up at the midpoint of the trunk, the hollow sat low to the ground. At that point it was obvious; he was no longer home.

  Letting the sight of the hollow sink into his mind, Leyoht took realization of his body temperature. As he had quickly come to realize, his feathers gave the sensation that they were about to break off if the temperature were to drop down any lower.

  “So—you’re finally awake?” a female’s voice asked.

  Such a sound caused Leyoht to flinch out of his sleep. A shock of fear and surprise bolting in his heart, he twisted his injured neck in an attempt to find out where the voice was coming from. It hadn’t taken long for him to find a stranger sitting beside him.

  “Wha-what happened?” Leyoht wondered, picking himself up on his feet. “Ah—ow!” he yelled in pain.

  Barely noticing Leyoht’s struggle, the stranger continued, “I’m not sure exactly what happened, but when I first saw you through my hollow, I noticed you were almost completely buried in snow. I was completely shocked by seeing you there, so I took you in. Oh—and try not to move too much; I found you very cold and badly injured.”

  A pause befell the two before she asked, “What’s your name, anyway?”

  “L-Leyoht,” the young owl croaked in response. Putting a slight change to the subject, he croaked, “I’ll never learn how to fly!”

  “When are you going to start flying?” the owl replied.

  “I probably should’ve started flying by now. But—now I can’t—I’ll never learn how to fly when I’m this hurt!”

  “You’ll just need to lie down for today, Leyoht.” Another pause slipped in before the female owl hooted, “My name is Aphost, by the way.”

  Acting as if Aphost hadn’t uttered a word, Leyoht muttered, “My parents—my parents are—they’re dead.”

  Hearing as such horrible words rampaged through her ears, Aphost’s eyes widened as her heart pumped with sympathy for the young child. “Dead?” she murmured. “What happened to them?”

  “They were crushed by our home.”

  It was right before continuing with the conversation when Leyoht fought back a small wave of tears. He tried as best as he could to hold back a series of sobs when he continued.

  “I—I’m just so glad I made it here!” Much more than glad, he allowed himself to release his emotions as quietly as possible.

  Taking notice of his emotional strain, Aphost allowed him a moment on his own by removing herself from the tree.

  After what seemed like so many days of undergoing neglect and misery, Leyoht was finally sheltered in another family’s home. Such a notion made him feel as if a breeze of luck had swept its way around him at the right time—right when he felt as if he were destined to die at a young age.

  Chapter XII

  Yofel’s Plan

  As the young owlet recovered from his perilous battle against the ragged walls of nature, the emperor of Mocrano found himself stuck in an era of frustration. Something wasn’t right—he knew that for sure. Feeling uneasy, Yofel picked himself up from his throne and made his way toward his home’s exit.

  Without even thinking twice about it, the dark emperor floated out of his tower of a home—sprinting past his many treasures all the while—and sped over to a spot at the Mapharaux’s rear. There he stood, almost entirely covered in shadow—when he peered down at the Mocranian secret before him.

  It was in that spot where a trapdoor sat, hidden by a small layer of dust and dirt. After opening the trapdoor with a forced gust of wind, Yofel slowly floated down below the Mapharaux’s floor.

  Once he passed through the entrance, the first and only thing the emperor could see was pitch darkness. However, as if by telepathic command, a small, thin aura of violet-red light showed up before his eyes.

  A sense of Mocranian culture and history filled Yofel’s head upon witnessing the aura of red. Red and purple—all at once—showed just what Mocrano was capable of. Witnessing as this glow tainted everything within its grasp, Yofel walked over to it and placed a gloved hand on top of its origin: an enormous stone box.

  Upon placing a hand on the box’s hat, Yofel resisted the urge to shiver. Even for a Mocranian, this box was freezing cold. Yofel could only imagine what would happen if an Earthling touched it.

  The temperature, however, would quickly rise when the large,
heavy lid slowly tipped its way open. The light—which was earlier slipping through the box’s crack—now glowed even brighter than before.

  As the lid came to a complete stop in its opening, light illuminated the entire room. Dusty cobwebs, ancient treasures, and a pool of black-and-red liquid appeared before his eyes. “Shanol eurioap cias sen efasnd Bearneomal!” he commanded into the pool.

  Upon uttering these ancient words, the ground went through a small rumble. At the same time, a storm seemed to brew within the pool. Within heartbeats, the liquid began to create what looked like a small whirlpool—the likes of which only grew on top of itself with time.

  Once a full whirlpool had formed, the liquid began to pile up on top of itself—creating what seemed to be a new creature. Liquid slowly turned to solid as the essence of black and red scrunched up in the middle of the pool.

  Yofel watched as a lizard-like creature gradually formed within the strange, black liquid. This process of layering and covering continued until an enormous, reptilian creature drained the pool of its last drop of liquid.

  As the lizard-like creature’s liquid material began to harden, a slightly interesting thought entered Yofel’s mind. Looking much like his grandson, this liquid’s shape gave the impression of being a hybrid of a lizard and a griffin.

  In a sense, the only parts of this liquid creature’s organization which didn’t give hold griffin resemblance was the creature’s skin—which was covered in scales. Added to this was how there was no beak to be seen, there weren’t any wings, and this creature was overall slightly smaller than the average griffin. At the same time, a rather terrifying, horn-infested head bestowed itself upon the creature’s reptilian neck.

  Once the liquid came to an almost completely solid state, the creature in which it formed released a small grunt of confusion and optimism. Liquid and solid at the same time, this creature was a vicious, yet loyal carmahn. However, this particular carmahn was truly the most powerful creature Mocrano had to offer to his opponents.

  Bearing the name Bearneomal, this reptilian creature gave a slightly hideous—yet terrifying look. A series of many sharp teeth and a total of two tongues added up into a rather large maw. Bearneomal’s reptilian form made Yofel feel as if he had made the right decision to use this carmahn for his own personal gain. While the creature resembled a dragon in some ways, he had no wings, no scales, and was slightly slimmer than most dragons.

  Almost exactly as he had done when summoning the carmahn, Yofel began to speak in words only known between he and the carmahns. The name of this strange language was Easnrl: the basic language all carmahns used in their daily lives. While only being used by carmahns, Easnrl was also impossible to be uttered by the words of those with only one tongue.

  The only reason why Yofel knew how to speak Easnrl was a complete mystery to carmahns around Mocrano. It was because of the carmahns’ use of the language which drove Yofel to disapprove of ordinary Mocranians knowing about carmahnian existence.

  Speaking through this special language, Yofel commanded Bearneomal to deliver Leyoht directly to Mocrano—so he would be used as a slave. Yofel wanted Leyoht to suffer for his past deeds—even if it meant bringing down Mocrano as he knew it.

  While he understood his leader’s commandment, the carmahn couldn’t help but feel confused. Nevertheless, he agreed to follow through with his master’s plan. The carmahn let out a grunt; a grunt not of displeasure, but one of obedience to his master.

  “Ios mesasn,” Bearneomal replied with a bow of his head. It was after uttering these words when he swept his way through the rim of the room’s door. He did so by temporarily transforming his body into a stream of black liquid, slipping his way out of the room, and reshaping himself into his lizard-like state upon entering the outside Mocranian essence.

  With the help of his flexible body, Bearneomal snuck his way past the eyes of any possible passerby Mocranians. In order to hide himself, he slipped himself into the shadows and looked for a way to his destination.

  It hadn’t taken long, for Bearneomal to catch sight of a series of pillars connecting Mocrano’s floor to its ceiling. The carmahn’s eyes locked onto said pillars as he whisked his way toward the tube-like rocks.

  Once he’d made his way up to one of the pillars, Bearneomal dug his nails into the stone and climbed the tower. Such was a process which required him to spin around the pillar while also moving in an upwards motion.

  It hadn’t taken long for Bearneomal to find himself face-to-face with Mocrano’s ceiling—and not a single Mocranian spotted him! His nose almost hitting the ceiling, he increased his body’s viscosity and made an attempt to squeeze his liquid body through the barrier’s flaws.

  The carmahn never enjoyed going through tight squeezes. Depending on the depth of the ceiling, such journeys could have taken him an entire day to complete. In addition to depth, the moisture within the ground also played a role in how fast a carmahn could pass through the ground.

  Fortunately for Bearneomal, this particular journey wouldn’t be anything to fret about. Barely any time had come to pass when he found himself in the midst of a blanket of frozen crystals.

  After slipping through the ground, Bearneomal sat before a new challenge to overcome. Before freezing to death, he would have to turn into a solid and break through the snow preventing his escape from Mocrano.

  Upon reshaping himself into a solid form, Bearneomal used whatever strength he had to plow the snow out of his way. Letting out a roar, he found himself free at last, surprised to feel a cool breeze brushing against his smooth skin. Such a feeling caused his slender body to shiver.

  Feeling this breeze creep over his skin, he decided to listen to the buzzing in the back of his head. Such a buzz was used as a tool for tracking down whomever Yofel demanded. With every closing step he took, the buzz would only grow stronger.

  However, this sensation wasn’t without its side-effects. Carmahns’ buzzing wouldn’t be able to stop unless their target was eliminated. Such buzzing would take full effect—at all times—until their target was eliminated. The internal noise would continue even when the carmahns were thinking, sleeping, and fighting—and it was a force even Bearneomal could not ignore.

  Running toward where he believed Leyoht was, Bearneomal began to set out a plan to bring the snowy owl to Mocrano. How should I do this? he asked himself.

  --

  Weariness enveloped Pesstian’s mind as he waited for the sun to emerge from behind the purple night sky. For reasons unbeknownst to the little owl, the sun refused to hide—as if it was too shy to meet his gaze.

  It’s almost time for me to go to sleep! Why won’t the sun show up? I can’t be this tired right now! Maybe I should ask how Leyai’s feeling.

  These thoughts echoed within Pesstian’s head as he lifted his wings into the air. A haze of misty, cold air surrounded him upon starting himself on the search for his friend. Aerosol blew in his face as he wondered if Leyai was feeling as tired as he was. Was it childish to have been so tired at that time—before the sun had even shown its face?

  Not too long after starting his flight, the sight of Leyai’s shivering body within Pesstian’s eye.

  Leyai stood on top of a pole, shaking, while carrying a fur coat on her shoulders. Such a pole rested near the peak of a snowy cliff—the likes of which watched down on the humans’ colony.

  Taking notice of his friend, he cautiously flew down by her side and asked while still hovering, “What’s going on?”

  “I’m c-cold,” Leyai responded, a somewhat haughty tone sprouting from her voice. “Aren’t you?”

  “I guess,” Pesstian yawned. “But I’m more tired than I am cold.”

  “Good; so it’s not just me.”

  A sigh of relief passed through Pesstian’s beak as those words funneled into his ears. His relief only grew when Leyai asked with a snort, “Why won’t the sun show up already?”

  “Maybe the cold places don’t see the sun a whole lot,” her fri
end explained while stretching his wings. “If that’s true, then I’m going to find someplace to sleep for the day.”

  “How about right here?” Leyai suggested, “I’m pretty sure that if you get a fur coat, we’ll be able to stay in this spot for the day.”

  A small spark of confusion filled Pesstian’s head as these words vibrated in his ears. Why does Leyai want me to sit next to her for a whole night? The last time she let me do this was because I couldn’t find anywhere to stay on the human’s device.

  Deciding to hold his tongue, Pesstian threw his mind off the topic when he asked, “Where do I find them?”

  “Just look in the central den,” Leyai explained whilst shifting in her coat.

  “Where’ll I find one of those?” Pesstian wondered, sauntering over to the cliff’s edge.

  “If you look in the human nests, you’ll probably find one.”

  It was after turning around in his tracks when he skeptically asked, “Human nests? What’re you even talking about?”

  “Are you blind or something?” Leyai teased, growing more playful than frustrated. “It’s at the edge of this cliff. Where’ve you been all night?”

  “Well—uh, all I’ve done is fly through the forest. That’s basically all I’ve done today,” Pesstian admitted, his gaze pointing in the forest’s direction. “I haven’t paid any attention to the humans at all.”

  Leyai stifled a small gout of laughter at the hearing of these words. He must really be stuck in his own world, she thought with a giggle.

  Hesitantly pulling herself out of her own thoughts, responded to her friend’s ignorance: “The humans have made a bunch of nests on the other side of this cliff. One of them has the coats in them.”

  Feeling foolish, released a sigh and looked toward the edge of the cliff while allowing an updraft to flow beneath his wings. Astonishment crawled into the young owl’s mind upon taking sight of these nests.