Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land (3 page)

“Welcome to Mocrano, Molar,” Carpla greeted
his newborn son, almost feeling the need to pet the griffin.

Molar did not make a direct response to his
father, but only continued to stare at him. Molar tilted his head
slightly, wondering who and where he was.

--

Chapter II

Yofel’s Former Home

Carpla named his son Molar. Carpla held great
faith in his son, knowing Molar would one day stretch Mocrano’s
power around the world.

Holding little doubt in his child, Carpla
believed Molar had the courage and strength to make a global
superpower out of the empire. With time, Mocrano would become
strong enough to trample over anything the humans had to throw at
them.

Yofel had himself to thank—as none of
Mocrano’s success would have existed if he hadn’t migrated from the
distant planet of Eas to Earth all those millennia before. It was a
soothing fact to know he had become immortal—as he would have never
come so far without his immortality.

--

It was tens of millennia ago when Yofel lived
as an inhabitant of planet Eas. Related to the inhabitants of
Earth, the Easi people looked very much like humans. Internally,
however, the Easi held cold blood running through their veins. In
addition to cold blood, the Easi’s hands held only four fingers on
them.

The planet contained—not green—but dark-blue
plants surrounding much of it. Mixing in with these were the
oceans: giant lakes of silver freshwater. The silver color came as
a result of an abundance presence of Mercury within the water.

Fascinated with the deep night sky, many of
Eas’s inhabitants planet took it upon themselves to become gifted
astronomers. With such knowledge of what lay outside their planet,
the Easi were able to make calendars, clocks, and even make
predictions of the future—on
some
occasions.

However—although their telescopes held the
ability to stretch Easi sight into the beyond—they had only been
able to find one life-like planet during their entire space
exploration. The planet they had discovered appeared to give off a
tiny, light-blue glow. Near impossibility came in detecting it—as
it was surrounded by what seemed like billions of stars.

Thanks to their great knowledge of astronomy,
the Easi knew just how dangerous the stars could have been. With
such knowledge, they discovered an enormous asteroid heading
toward—the likes of which originated from their already-dangerous
star system.

As Eas was grateful enough to be created and
inhabited at a very early age—in comparison to most other
planets—some of the planets closer to their star than Eas were
still being pummeled by meteors as a result of unsettlement in the
cluster of planets. One of these meteors, however, was the one
Eas’s astronomers had discovered would eventually end in death for
the Easi.

Such was the word even Yofel had taken
hearing of—when he realized he had a choice to make. Words of a
city by the name of Tyko and its
blade of immortality
had
spread to his ears in recent days. Such a blade was rumored to rest
in a temple—a temple with which still desired a footprint within
its dwelling.

The transgression from mortal to immortal was
performed by nothing more than the contact of the blade with one’s
blood.

Tyko’s differences in the rest of the other
Easi cities lay in the traps and technology the famous city had set
up. Because of this fact, the rest of Eas feared what the city of
Tyko had to offer. Yofel—being that he lived close to Tyko—knew of
all these modern marvels.

The first time he had heard of the
possibility of Eas being destroyed, Yofel made it his mission
receive the blade of immortality. Taking any chances for
immortality, Yofel told himself over and over again that he would
travel to this temple—no matter what dangers lie ahead.

While a small part of him objected against
the existence of this blade, Yofel absolutely
new
it was the
only way out of his predetermined death. Although he hadn’t
realized it, the blade did not only offer immortality, but could
also take the life of an immortal. How such a thing could have
happened was a fact nobody had the answer to.

It was before creating Mocrano when Yofel
held—what Mocranians believed—what was an undignified look.
Mud-stained, torn, dark-green robes covered up only a portion of
his skin. Yofel’s clothes, however, once belonged to a deity of
Eas—but was eventually thrown away by its original owner and
scavenged for by Yofel.

Without a mask to cover his face, Yofel held
a look unrecognizable to Mocrano’s inhabitants. Long, brown, and
curly hair hung from his head as did a short beard from his face.
Such a beard would have held a small amount of offense toward the
Easi during that time.

The reason for Yofel’s austere appearance
came from one fact: he came from a familiy of poverty. As a result,
most of what his family made was from farming.

It was out on his own farm where Yofel lived
with his wife: Baphonsey. Every day was the same day—with nothing
to do but farm. A very peaceful life they had lived, with almost no
distractions to separate them from their chores. Yet, even with all
this in mind, Yofel found himself listlessly dulled each and every
day.

Yofel and his wife spent their days doing
simple farm chores. Such chores involved milking goat-like Easi
animals known as klai, cleansing their land of the blue weeds
inhabiting it, and even collecting their annual crops. Very little
bloodshed had come into play—too little for Yofel’s taste.

Another ordinary day had passed for Yofel and
Baphonsey as Yofel made his way into the kitchen of his tiny home.
While barely any work seemed to go into the creation of their home,
its simple design was good enough for the family of two. Compared
to Yofel’s Mocranian humble abode, this home was nothing more than
a miniscule insect for him to smash beneath his foot.

In this kitchen also stood his wife; in the
kitchen was she feeding their home’s fire. Taking hearing of her
footsteps, he asked of her, “How are the klai?”

Placing an old wooden bucket of creamy milk
on the countertop next to her rusted sink, Baphonsey replied
cheerfully, “They seem to be doing better than usual! I’m not sure,
but I think Mina might have babies again.” With a turn around in
the sink’s direction, Baphonsey removed her gaze from Yofel’s
stare.

I guess now’s a better time than any,
Yofel decided. When no words had come to pass from Baphonsey’s
lips, Yofel decided to turn his mind to the subject of the
immortality blade. Sighing, he walked up to his wife and told her,
“Baphonsey—I’m going to head on over to Tyko.”

“Hm?” wondered his wife, her gaze still
locked on the sink.

“Before too long, we’re going to be destroyed
by the universe itself. That’s why I’m going to go to Tyko—so I can
finally get my hands on the blade of immortality. It’s our only
chance, Baphonsey!”

“I want you to know that once I grab my
sword, I’m going to travel to Tyko so that I can get the blade.” A
small pause came into their conversation before Yofel continued,
“Nothing’s going to stop me.”

Abruptly turning her gaze toward Yofel,
Baphonsey exclaimed, “Yofel—please don‘t go there! You know how
well the people of Tyko make their traps.” A pause of silence
occurred as Yofel fought the urge to honestly tell his wife he
could make it back safely.
I know I can’t tell her that!

“Please, Yofel; I’ve heard many rumors about
that temple. I haven’t believed in them all completely—but if they
are true, the traps that are set up will crush every bone in your
body!”

“But we will still be killed in a week if we
don’t become immortal!” Yofel argued.

Another pause of silence occurred, Baphonsey
releasing a sigh from her nose as she looked down at her feet. The
pause lasted until Yofel finally told her, “I’m going to get my
sword and walk over to Tyko. And there’s nothing you can say or do
to stop me. I’m going to get that blade!”

Marching up to their shared bed, Yofel took a
glance just underneath his bed to find his sword wrapped in a stone
scabbard. Baphonsey still stood where she was the last time he’d
placed a glance toward her. Every single one of her muscles
remained locked in place as Yofel hooked his scabbard to his
belt.

Just before making the true exit from his
home, Yofel took hearing of his wife when she screamed,
“Yofel—wait!” Even with the sound of Baphonsey’s fearful voice
penetrating his ears, however, Yofel’s head made no attempt to look
back at her.

Rushing up to the exit of her home,
Baphonsey’s four-fingered hands curled around the door’s hinges. In
frustration, her brow twitched; in sadness, she shed a small tear.
Blinking, her vision blurred as she witnessed what she believed to
be her last sight of her beloved.

From his scabbard did Yofel pull out his
sword. It then when he was reminded of his days on Eas when he
trained himself as a swordsman. As a child, he had always loved
hitting blocks of stone until whatever object he was using to hit
them caused them to finally break.

Fascinated with swordplay at an early age,
Yofel would often ask his childhood friends to duel with him using
wooden sticks. One on one, he would usually emerge victorious over
all opponents.
Those were the good days.
Thoughts of his
childhood mixing in with thoughts of his world being destroyed
caused Yofel to feel a pang of misery piercing his heart.

Fortunately for Yofel, the upcoming trip
would not be an odyssey of trial and hardship—due to his home’s
short distance away from the mysterious city. It almost came as a
surprise to how he and Baphonsey could have lived so close to such
a famous city and—at the same time—live in a life of poverty.

Similar to Mocrano, nothing but sand and dust
covered the ground beneath Yofel’s feet. He peripherally watched as
his gray surroundings remained still—even with his breath passing
by. Without even glancing in its direction, he took sight of a
small oasis with Easi plants infesting its silver water.

Soon had he found himself standing in front
of the entire city of Tyko. Everybody here lived in towers—a luxury
Yofel himself could never afford. From what he could tell, these
towers yearned to touch the sun; whether or not they had done so
yet was a mystery.

Standing between him and the temple was a
horde of civilians—some of whom he’d already come to know. This
horde stood as an obstacle between Yofel and Tyko’s temple.
Fortunately for Yofel, such a horde served no more than a mere lake
for him to pass through. While there were those in the city who
couldn’t help but to stare at him, nobody seemed to point out
Yofel’s obvious poverty.
Well—
that’s
a relief!

Once he came face-to-face with the temple,
Yofel took notice of the main entrance door and witnessed a locked
door. On the two doors of the temple was a horizontal, rectangular
inscription—split up symmetrically by the doors’ intersecting
edge.

Walking up to this inscription, he noticed
two groups of strange hieroglyphics just aside the left of the
door.
What does this even mean?
Yofel asked himself
silently. Not at all sure what this writing could have meant, Yofel
thought it was a riddle for those who could read it. If so was the
case, he therefore had two riddles to solve.

What could these symbols have possibly stood
for? What language were they even written in? Just when he’d almost
decided to give up, anger and frustration caused Yofel to throw his
sword into the ground just beneath his feet.

It was at this moment when Yofel began to
notice his anger and impatience. At the same time, he realized
something about his personality.
Do I really give up that
easily?
The very thought of this caused him to look down upon
himself.

Calming down slightly, knelt down to his
sword, wrapped his four-fingered hand around its handle, and tugged
it in an attempt to take its tip out of the ground. Strangely
enough, however, not even the largest tug would release the sword
from the ground. Even more frustrated than before, he wrapped both
hands around his blade’s hilt and gave an even stronger tug.

Come on, already!
As he continued to
tug, Yofel noticed how his sword was somehow radiating heat into
its metal, the heat leading up to the palms of his hands.

The radiation in his sword only grew hotter
and hotter with every passing heartbeat. The heat from his sword
sizzling his hands, he pulled himself away and took two steps back
from his sword. The result of him doing so caused his sword to make
a slight tilt in the earth underneath.

Yofel took a look down at his sword and
wondered,
What’s going on with it?
Looking closely, he
noticed how the heat it had generated caused a red tinge to form
near its tip. It was at this moment when he realized the red of the
sword disappearing at a faster pace than it had grown.

Once again, Yofel asked himself,
What’s
going on?
just before walking up to his sword once again.
Is
somebody playing a joke on me? Or am I just going insane?

His hands wrapped around the hilt, Yofel was
thankful to feel absolutely no heat burning any more of his skin.
When he took a yank at the sword this time, it came out nice and
smoothly, leaving a small hole in the ground. To his confusion, the
very tip of the sword still held a red-orange color to it.

Is there something down there?
Yofel
took a closer look at the hole he had just seeped into the ground.
He could just barely make out a whisk of steam fuming its way out
of something. Coming up with an idea, Yofel decided to stick his
sword into the ground and twist it to the point where he could no
longer see any steam coming out of the ground.