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28.57% please reset the booktitle Oblivion_Disk 20231218092329 27 / Chapter 2: Chapter 1: The Orphan of Creathe

Kapitel 2: Chapter 1: The Orphan of Creathe

Five days before the siege of the tomb

"Conquista." The headmaster of the Academy, Lord Ezekiel Valiente, says as Zachariah enters the room. "Have a seat."

19-year old Zachariah slowly approaches the headmaster, curious as to what he had to say.

It was only a mere few days when a witch-hunt for the members of the Cult of Shadows was declared. A lot of cultists had already been convicted and executed, with even a few, having been promised that they would only recieve light punishment, revealing that members of the court were a part of the secret worship of the beings from the void.

Zachariah li Conquista was, though a talented magic caster, an orphan who had lost both his parents in the great war. His cruel uncle usurped his family's wealth, leaving him with nothing but clothes and a few coins.

Having nobody to support him, he resorted to begging in the streets, often performing magic acts as entertainment.

That is, until Lord Anton Geraldt took him as his own and, upon learning about his great proficiency and promise in magic, enrolled him to the grandest of all magic school's in all of Creathe; the Magic Academy.

For a few years, it seemed as if a bright future awaited Zachariah. Number one at his class, the ability to cast tier-3 magic (something most magic casters can only hope to achieve), successor to Lord Geraldt's power and wealth... it would seem as if the heavens had paid him twofolds for the many horrible things that he had to go through.

Little did he know that what he was yet to experience would be worse than living in the streets.

"You've heard the news, yes?" The headmaster asks him as he scans through the many files on his desk.

Zachariah nods. Lord Geraldt, his benefactor, was reported to be a prominent member of the Cult of Shadows, and had vanished after being charged of committing treason against the holy theocracy of Creathe.

The information was given by some of the cultists who were in the protection of Lord Algrave, who had locked himself in his keep for 2 days before a breach had forced him to surrender.

"Zachariah, I really admire you." Lord Valiente starts, having found the document that he had been searching for. "Really I do, but I cannot afford having the academy shut down because of your affiliation with Lord Geraldt."

Zachariah looks down in despair. What was happening?

Lord Valiente hands him a letter, relieving him of his role as a student of the Crethian Magic Academy. "I'm sorry."

"I know that they will come after me soon.." Zachariah says, head still facing the floor beneath him. "Will you hand me over to them?"

"I am giving you this letter right now so that you can leave the premises of this academy before they can acquire the necessary documents to search it." Lord Valiente informs him, smiling. "It's not much but... I hope you can get away."

Zachariah sheds a tear as he looks surprised at Lord Valiente who, until now, always seemed to strict towards him. "I-I don't know what to say.."

"It's okay." Lord Valiente tells him, placing his hand on Zachariah's shoulder. "Personally, I don't like where this country is going. Ever since the king died an early death and his 15-year old son took the throne, the Holy Order became more aggressive to potential threats than ever before. They would do anything to preserve their power, even if it meant killing their own citizens."

"Lord Valiente.." Zachariah says. "If you say it like that, you will be branded as a sympathizer!"

"To hell with them." Lord Valiente laughs, sitting back down on his chair. "I'm an old man who has long outlived his years. Life has taken more from me than they ever will."

Zachariah bows before Lord Valiente, thanks him for showing great kindness despite and asks to leave. Lord Valiente allows him to do so, and Zachariah begins to walk towards the door. Upon opening, Zachariah is surprised to see a female student by the name of Lucia Winthropt standing right in front of him. 

"I-I have business with the headmaster." Lucas says as she excuses him to Zachariah. 

"She seemed nervous." Zachariah thinks to himself as he closes the door behind him. Well, it wasn't such a surprise. Rumors must have circulated the entire campus about his involvement with Lord Geraldt by now. Zachariah sighs as he enters the hallway, when four male students suddenly block his path. 

"Hey there, traitor." One of them, Julius Lakewood, said. "Make sure I never see your face again, or I'll kill you." 

Zachariah ignores them, knowing full well that he was stronger than the four of them combined. Still, the group continued to harass him on his way out.

"You should just die."

"I hope the military captures you soon." 

"I'll gladly throw the first stone at your execution, Conquista."

As a result of the various taunts that they had given Zachariah, a lot of students have taken notice of the entire ordeal, with a few of them whispering to each other as he walks pass them. Even though he was the number one student in his class, Zachariah never wanted to engage in physical combat, and only did so when it was a school requirement. As this wasn't necessary, Zachariah put up with it and just walked away, despite being shamed by his former schoolmates. Before he exits the academy building, Julius throws a half-eaten apple at his head. Wanting a reaction, Julius taunts Zachariah to attack him, but the latter never said a word, and left the academy without looking at him.

Julius stops at the door, knowing full well that he couldn't do anything major at the school grounds or else their superiors would obviously discipline him. 

"Zachariah thinks he's better than me?" Julius thought to himself. "The bastard won't even look at me in the eye. I'll beat him up the next time I see him outside the Academy."

Zachariah returns home. After Lord Geraldt fled from the city and into hiding, most of the servants left the kingdom due to the fear of being persecuted along with him. The only one there was James Ferdinand, Geraldt's most trusted partner and the one in-charge of overseeing the Lord's manor. 

"Running away, Zachariah?" James chuckles while he takes Zachariah's coat. 

"I have no choice." Zachariah tells him, removing his shoes. "What about you, Sir Ferdinand?"

James shakes his head. "Nobody will be left to take care of this god forsaken place if I leave."

"You don't fear death?" 

"I doubt that the Order would be able to touch me." James says as he picks up a chair. "Besides me being Lord Geraldt's buddy, I am a friend of the king."

Zachariah smiles as he walks up the stairs, more specifically to his room in order to pack his things. James just sighs as he looks out the window. 

After about a few minutes of rummaging through his inventory, Zachariah goes down the stairs and prepares to greet James, who was now standing outside the door. 

"I'm going to miss you, boy." James says as he gives Zachariah a hug. 

"Me too, Sir..." Zachariah returns the gesture. The two friends, who now regarded each other as family, hugged each other for a few seconds before bidding farewell. 

Watching Zachariah disappear in the distance, James continues to wave until he could wave no longer. It was going to be a long time before they would ever see each other again.

James returns inside the manor and shuts the door. He looks at his surroundings, first towards the sunset that lit up the still sky, next the beautiful mansion that the Geraldt family had built centuries ago. What was once a hallway full of light and life, James could only feel nothingness and silence. 

James sits by the door with sword in hand, listening quietly through the breeze. 

There it was again; the sudden snapping of twigs. 

James was ready for a long night ahead of him, especially since he knew that he wasn't alone.

Zachariah meets up with Seth and Jeremiah at the adventurer's tavern, where the two always were. Jeremiah was a pretty heavy drinker, while Seth was just sitting there making sure that the grown man didn't embarrass himself. 

"I'm ready to go." Zachariah says as he sits down with them. Seeing Jeremiah had just passed out from drinking, he turns his attention to Seth. 

"It would be better if you go ahead of us." Seth tells him. "This guy probably won't wake up for another hour or so. Remember my horse?"

"Yeah"

"She's at the stables. Take her and relocate to the tomb." Seth tells him. "Lord Geraldt is waiting for you." 

The whole tavern was set abuzz by talks about the cultists just because of news concerning the siege of Algrave keep, so Zachariah was more than happy to go. Taking Seth's horse, he rides for the tomb of Azrael, the cult's headquarters. 

Along the way, he passes by the Holy Order's checkpoints. It was just another way of them taking advantage of the people and stealing their money, which they referred to as tax, but the chances of getting caught there was still a given. 

"Name?" a soldier asks him. 

"Julius Lakewood." Zachariah fakes it, looking stoically at the guard, who looks at him for a few seconds before beginning the next question. 

"Place of residence?"

"Caridia." 

"Age?"

"19"

And so on.

After about an hour of answering his questions, the guard finally allowed Zachariah to pass and attended to another traveler going out of the kingdom.

Zachariah travels far and wide, across Viridia plains, through the great forest of Mokon, until he finally reaches the tomb, where a lot of familiar cultists had gathered. Lord Geraldt was among them, talking with a few other nobles. 

Zachariah steps down from the horse and almost immediately embraces Lord Geraldt, the father-figure of his life. Geraldt asks him how he and James were fairing after his sudden disappearance. 

"James is well. He insisted on staying on the manor." Zachariah answers him, to which Anton nods. 

"Now that we have left the kingdom, we are safe from the order." Lord Geraldt tells him. "But that doesn't mean we should drop our guard. They may decide to pursue us, but I highly doubt it." 

"Why would they stop pursuing us?" 

"They don't have any reason to." Lord Geraldt says. "They wanted us out of their lands... we got out of their lands. They shouldn't see a problem with us being here in the plains."

A voice comes from behind Zachariah. "Is that your son, Lord Geraldt?"

The two turn towards Benjamin, who had just arrived at the tomb with a few others (one of them was his girlfriend, Valentin). Having a member of the Triangle inspired the cultists who had gathered there, and many who were having doubts about leaving the kingdom were finally put to ease.

Geraldt smiles. "He is. How are you, Benjamin?"

"Doing great, praise be the gods." Benjamin answers him, shaking his hand. 

Anton introduces Zachariah to the legendary warrior. "Zachariah, meet a friend of mine who had saved me numerous times during the Great War, Benjamin Croft."

"Your old man always had the habit of bringing danger upon our party." Benjamin gives of a short laugh as he shakes Zachariah's hand. 

Lord Geraldt looks around before asking Benjamin. "Where are Gabriel and Damien?"

"They are handling matters elsewhere." Benjamin answers, placing his hands around Anton. "Hopefully something less troublesome than ours." 

The three looked around them and saw a multitude having a great time. People were dancing, eating, with most praising the gods (both holy and unholy) for granting them safe passage towards the tomb. 

"Why don't we discuss more with a drink?" Lord Geraldt tells Benjamin, who agrees almost immediately.

"Say, why don't we take young Zachariah with us?"

"I-I don't drink, Sir Croft." Zachariah informs Benjamin, who smiles. 

"Well, here's to your first time then!" 

Zachariah looks at Lord Geraldt, who raises both his shoulders, implying that he was old enough to make his own decision. 

"Alright." Zachariah says as the three merrily grab a few drinks together.

 A calm before the storm. 

Five days later, in the dark of night, Lord Bartholomew Gilford had managed to clear most of the floors leading to the room where they were in. Anton Geraldt's fate was unknown, and the survivors were left to fend for themselves. 

Seth was shouting at Zachariah to do something, and so he fumbles through his book of spells in the search for something useful. This was the first time where he would be in an actual fight, and he wanted a spell that will ensure their victory. Alas, there was nothing. 

"Damn it." Zachariah says to himself as he accidentally drops the book due to his nervousness. It was a hopeless battle, with zero chances of getting out alive.

As he bends down to pick up the book, Zachariah spots an ancient text engraved on the tomb he was standing in front of. He was fluent in most languages that concerned Creathe, and this was one of them. 

"Ancient Crethian language.." Zacchariah says as he removes the cobwebs and the vines that were in his way. "Lufus Azraeli anatos"

...

"Our redeemer, Azrael" He translates.

All of a sudden, time stops, and Zachariah's vision had completely blackened. He could hear and see nothing, and as such waited for something to happen. Something did happen, as he could now make out what seemed to be a shape of a man in front of him. His surroundings, however, remained empty.

A voice whispers into his ear. "You have awakened me, mortal." 

"I didn't mean to.." Words form in Zachariah's mind as he tried desperately to open his mouth. 

"Bringing me back to the world of men is both courageous and foolish" The voice tells him. "Why?"

"I want to save them..." Zachariah felt like crying over his carelessness and uselessness.

Lord Geraldt, the father-figure of his life, was nowhere to be seen.

Jeremiah, the only one who had vouched for him to join the cult, now lay dead on the floor.

Valentin, the only magic caster in the cult that always urged him to do his best... the only one who he could always relate to, was spared no mercy.

Seth and Claude, who had always been seen as pillars of strength, now lay weak and broken on the ground, awaiting their death...

Benjamin, whom he had regarded as a hero to the cult... had fallen to his knees, ever faithful that he had done his best...

And yet here he was... weak, useless... afraid.

"I want to save them!" Zachariah shouts as his entire life flashes before his eyes. "I want to save them!!!"

"As thanks for freeing me from my prison... I shall grant you a single wish." the voice tells him. "I, the dark lord Azrael, will personally fulfill it for you." 

Zachariah desperately tries to move, but seeing as to how this entity was preventing him from doing so, gives up entirely. 

"What is it you seek?" the voice asks him. "Revenge? Power? Authority?"

"Save them!" Zachariah tried even scream. "Save my people!"

The figure seemed to smile as it begins entering Zachariah's body through his mouth.  Zachariah tries to fight it off, but the best he could do was twitch as his eyes roll to the back of his head and his thoughts finally wither away as though he was dying.

"Your wish is my command." 

The ground seems to shake all around him. Zachariah could feel himself feeling nauseous before finally succumbing to the dark lord's control.  

 "You are given the opportunity to watch as I, Azrael, will save your people from themselves." 


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