The Last Aeonian

December 28, 2011

There was a place of darkness. It was always night where the sky loomed steadily deep and violent purple. The stars, all of equal size, glistened sharply. They seemed to pierce at the sky, thus dubbed the name Sky Daggers. However, what loomed below those stars was of far more danger. The dark, enchanted land known as Sheol’s Forest. This was an unlucky place, you see. Of Long ago, when every being was infused with a strong magic and people were of much more power than today. During a great war, when people has just begin to discover death and rot. Those who died were all buried where the forest now creeps. This fertilized the soil with magic and with the haunting of greedy souls, too stubborn to pass on. They grew into sad, angry trees and bred mysterious animals possessed with arcane things. There was one soul left of that forest. He was always there, they say. When the forest was made. Maybe he is also a ghost or angry spirit. Maybe he is actually just an animal. Maybe he is the forest.

Sheol’s Forest is the forest of the first dead. He is the probably the soul of the first and last Aeonian. That Kulat Frenik, the Prince of a dark place.

Bright, hazel eyes stared wide open as his target. He has a firm grasp on his bow- string pulled back tight and strict in place until the moment his fingers would suddenly slip loose, his arrow flying into a fleshy neck- freshly mauled. Just as he imagined. He never blinked. Didn’t breathe- didn’t have to. His body was littered with dark, shadowy bumps. They were mushrooms. Fungus, which dotted his body like a damp log. It would proliferate off of him, as if he were a never-ending rot producing nutrients for them to consume. And yes, he smelled of rot. Everything in the dark forest smelled of rot. Some places worse than others. It was normal. It was normal for Kulat. He didn’t care, he didn’t mind at all. In fact, the more rot the better. He liked it. No, he loved it.

Lowering his face, concentrating harder at the target which slowly trotted closer, his snow white hair flooded into his eyesight. He blew, strains flying upward and released the arrow. It zoomed, hitting the target in the distance. There was a muttered grunt, the last noise that would spill from his mouth, and the target fell from his horse. Without a change in facial expression- not the slightest inch of muscle moved under his skin- Kulat lowered his bow, staring off at his target, newly deceased. He was hidden in the overgrowth of the blackish plants now. That was probably to be his rest place as well. The hungry spirits of the soil would eat his soul up to nothing. Just like all the rest of the foolish mortals who dared linger in this forbidden place. This was his domain. Kulat’s. His.

The young-looking male’s eyes were usually wide open and didn’t blink. The glowing hazel was like a green fog, those who saw them usually saw them right before their death. They were besetting eyes made of fear. They wanted everything to die. His skin was as pale as that with no life. It was an almost glowing pale. The pale of a dimming moon, right before the dawn and refused to let go of the very last of the night. That knew no sun, and did not care to know it. That only knew dark, grey midnight clouds that waft under it, jealous of the attention it and the stars received. And yet his appearance was that of a child, no older than fifteen per say. An immortal beast bent on taking those unfortunate of their lives for protruding where they did not belong. He was the consequence, not a desperate monster who lusted for blood. But a stern entity by, who no means, liked anything living. But, living dead was just fine. Quite alright.

He place his bow back upon his back, which was made of dark wood and ornate with leaves carved out of it. The prince gripped at his reins and his steed went forward. He was a large fawn-like creature with bold, yellow and glowing eyes. It’s body was dark and painted with the dots of a deer. The thing flared at it’s nostrils and moved forward, towards the body once of a knight. As they moved forward, the knight’s horse neighed violently and want off into the depths of the forest. Something would probably catch is and eat it soon. Though Kulat would probably have to do away with it’s bones. What gross things, bones. Only mortal things possessed bones. Kulat looked down at the silver armored carcass, an arrow stuck at the lower help. There was blood seeping from it. Kulat made a slight face.

Kulat hated life. He hated how things lived and everything in his dominion roamed the same old forests. He wanted, maybe more than anything, to keep humans out of this place for the dead. But no, they were ignorant creatures who knew nothing of death or the anguish that followed after. This, in it’s own write, was a sacred place. The spirits of it were the first bodies to fertilize the earth, and that is where they were to stay. There was nothing for them but to feed off of fading existences, like mortals and humans. Because they were on display. There is nothing for them to move on to. Humans waste their lives away in acts of tom-foolery, and the magicks of Sheol’s Forest want to live. So in short, everything is a reversed, cruel fate.

One day, hopefully, the prince will get to suffer all the blood of humans upon his molded hands.

Time, also, was a hard thing for Kulat to comprehend. Once you entered the forest, the only way to keep track of the pace at which it went was watching mushrooms grow off of a fallen branch, or the shadowy trees extend further into the sky. After all, everything here was carrying on dead. And cursed. There’d be no bright flow of time, here. Time was a factor that did not matter to any inhabitants of Sheol anymore. So why did it suddenly become such an exigent factor, so suddenly?

The Prince’s head shot up. He smelled blood. The penetrating scent of iron, it definitely was littering all over his domain. He kicked at the side of his steed and it sped off, in pursuit of the source. Whisk past trees, past black shrubs, past gloomy plants, past lurid creatures. They popped their heads up as he whizzed by, or darted out of his way. They all knew he’d only ride so swiftly if there was human lurking on a further off edge of the forest. To go and exterminate it. Kurat leaned in, his steed’s breathing more like blatant gasps for breath. The Prince’s eyes were focused and wide, gleaming like foggy marbles in the darkness of the forest. He felt his elevation rise moderately as they were coming towards the middle of the forest, situated on a wide, tall hill. Abruptly, he pulled at the reins of his beast and it skid to a halt as well as it could have in the damp leaves of the forest floor. Then, he hopped off of his fawn and inched closer towards the smell, burning heavily now in his nose.

In the short absence before him was a tiny clearing. A faint moonlight shown over the bare ground it could sprawl itself across. Lying across that, face open to the light, was a woman. She wore a hood, her face uncovered. She was panting, at ends with her life for sure. Staring her down from behind the trees, Kulat reached for his bow. The woman glanced in his direction, then back the other way. Then, she revealed a small figure out from under her cloak. It had long, curly locks in wild abundance and rose cheeks. Her eyes were closed, lashes long and dark like a cover for her unveiled irises. Her chest rose and fell with her innocent breaths. Kulat did not react. He reached for his bow and stepped into view. Sure enough, his appearance startled the woman. She held her child closer, trying to calm her breathing. As the male pointed his arrow at her, she stared right into his infamous eyes.

“Please,” she panted, “Please- take my life. I would much rather die here and be taken by the monsters of this accursed place than go back.”

Kulat almost wanted to shoot her right there. Would you look at that, a human rebuking that of it’s own. And if they couldn’t be any more low down.

“My child…my child has yet to know of the fates of this world. To experience anything. I want for her a better life-“

“Both of you will die and fall back to the ground from which you have come. Please satisfy the spirits of the undying.” Kulat interrupted, mercilessly. He strung the arrow back, taking once last glance at the dying mother.

“You feed them, they’re unsettled. You wait, they’re unsettled. Life is what they want. How else do you think they will be at peace?” whispered the woman, sliding her arms across her snoozing child. Her eyelids settled over her eyes. “Life, this child will give. And then there will be no more need for your hunting, hunter.”

The woman passed on. He could hear through the echoes of the forest’s hunger devour her completely. As the last bit of organ inside of her died down, as her flesh cooled, tiny mushrooms dotted across her skin until they grew larger, faster, and consumed her body. Still, the child beside her slept, with two rotted arms wrapped across her waist, once arms of a caring mother. Who has pleaded protection from a Prince of Death.

Kulat, after a long rivet at her, put away his bow yet again and walked nearer. He looked down at the golden-haired girl, still his bold protruding look unwavering. His arms, dotted with mushrooms, stretched out for her. He picked the girl up and carried her back to his fawn. Gently, he placed her behind her so that she leaned against his moss-grown back. Then, he rode into the recesses of his domain. She couldn’t possibly stay here.

She couldn’t possibly.