Secret History scripture: first guardian

  Should even a whisper of our lord’s name be uttered with malice, a guardian will appear, a stark reminder of the tenuous nature of their lives, wholly dependent on our lord's merciful grace.

  There was a time when his grasp held nothing–no kingdoms to rule, no empires to command, not even me by his side.

  If anyone dared to utter such words, they would face a swift and brutal death, even at my hands; yet, it must be said that all things have a beginning, even a god's rise to power, and this was his first guardian—the first of many.

  Third passage from the seer

  The lands were vast, mostly barren fields. He had to travel far, even to find something. This far, he ran great distances from many beasts that lived in more enriched lands, but that was before the lord joined him, bless him. He looked at his hand; it morphed into a shadow with an eye and watched him back. He smiled with love, “Soon, lord. “

  “I promise you a great beast worthy of your gift,” he felt his lord growing with every step upon the land. Teardrop shadows dripped randomly from his body and fell, soaking the land. It was like the goddess crystal but lacked the same power, much weaker but so much more blessed.

  It was an odd contrast for him before; he would have to crawl, hide, and sleep every few miles, searching, hoping for anything to begging to be fed scraps now? he stood with pride and a purpose. As he passed: Things of darkness even bowed or avoided him.

  Ignoring them, he decided it wasn't time. They were not worthy yet. No, the lord needed not worship but power. So he went deeper into the mountains. There were many caves with many types of beasts.

  Yet one he knew well. The roar from that beast was enough to make him piss and quake in fear, even in the distance.

  He remembered the other beast’s panicked flight, its hooves pounding the earth, the fear a palpable thing in the air.

  Knowing the magnificent beast was near, and all he could do was cower in the filth, praying for invisibility. And now?

  Now he walked boldly to the mouth of its lair, the darkness gaping before him like a hungry maw, not to be devoured but to be the one to devour…

  The stench of decay and the metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air; he sniffed, and knew death was near, overwhelmingly near. The beast was home, its heavy breathing echoing through the cavernous halls.

  Sleeping… peace… an odd smell? Does something think it can challenge me? Anger. Hate. Kill. He stretched, his muscles stiff from inactivity; it had been too long since he'd felt challenged.

  He ripped and tore their flesh as they did the same, but he won, scars and all. They fed him with their flesh. He was not weak. He smelled the air once more… what was that scent? Home…? No…

  It was wrong. He was … dangerous. That angered him he was dangerous. He bled for this home once. So he will bleed once more if he must and went to face whatever challenges him.

  Six legs, two barbed tails, massive teeth, and claws—he rushed toward the unknown despite his efforts to be slow and purposeful.

  Shock. Confusion. So…small? An insignificant shadow, easily crushed beneath a paw, yet it walked with an air of proud defiance. The thing didn't look away; its silent approach was a slow, deliberate closing of the distance, the air heavy with the unspoken promise of fear, death, and the unknown. He felt a confusing mix of emotions, but his pride wouldn't let him submit; his enraged roar shook the very ground, a primal assertion of his kingship and territorial claim.

  He watched as the beast approached the mouth of the cave. He could sense it, not understanding what stood before. Him, it was a poor beast.

  It was mad with little power and thought itself king. Poor thing, he will learn. Ignoring the stench of decay that hit him with the beast's roar, he extended his hand, a god's power thrumming within, to show the creature true might.

  “Kneel before your lord and master. You are his, and first chosen, a guardian. Be honored and accept his will as your own.”

  A beam of darkness erupted from his hand, engulfing the massive beast in a chaotic frenzy before eventually calming it down and bringing it under his control.

  Pain seared through him, making it difficult to inhale, the world a distorted mess of colors and shapes beyond the goblin's form. He remained close to the goblin's soul; the warmth of it helped him breathe. The flame, once a low ember threatening to fade, now blazed with a fierce pride, welcoming him to absorb its power.

  Yet he never would. This was his disciple. He wasn’t sure how to. Feel he never wanted to be king or even seen as… more.

  Yet after the light rejection, he needed it. Now he needed something more.

  He felt the land was corrupt, its soil cracked and dry, and it desperately needed his touch. His life, so he bled ever so lightly to cleanse the land to rebirth his new home.

  even this far from the light, he still felt it burn.

  it was odd how far it reached he hated it.

  He would reform this land as his own. No light will touch it other than his own, he swore it as he slept to pass the time…

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “ROAR!” he stirred from slumber, a vibration in his soul, something… was here… he wanted it… IT WAS MINE.

  With a fierce glint in his eye, the goblin extended his hand, the gesture sharp and commanding, as if willing the beast to follow.

  “Kneel before your lord and master. You are his, and first chosen, a guardian. Be honored and accept his will as your own.”

  He felt himself expand, his senses sharpening, the world seeming brighter. From the earth on which he was born, he felt himself burn away because of the light.

  Itself in the goblin was strong and whole, and the drips upon the earth along the way were tiny fragments; he was there, but fragments trying to renew and grow.

  Yet now, as he slammed into the beast, a new soul was one with him. It thrashed in madness, not understanding PEACE. The beast calmed it, now knew to him what it was. Peace had transformed the beast from its primitive state.

  It was an odd contrast to being a human. He was used to having two legs now he had six. Well, he also had many eyes that distorted his view, as he was never sure where he was or what he was seeing.

  The various lands where he dripped versions of himself he was there, suffering from lack of a form, unable to breathe or understand those versions of himself.

  The land was tainted without his touch slowly as the drips he made of himself spread it, eased the burden.

  Only inside the goblin did he feel whole. Well, now this beast too, he watched the goblin through the beast’s eyes. It kneeled unmoving, awaiting his will; he had none to give, not yet…

  He was still spreading and claiming this massive beast it differed from the goblin, where its soul was an ember he was trying to keep glowing.

  This soul was a fire that almost burned to be close to, and he had a desire to consume it that almost overtook him.

  Yet he would not. He chose this vessel and made it a guardian that he would value its existence.

  The process went surprisingly quick, merging with this creature, his control growing with each passing hour and the spread on this land.

  Yet even this cave felt wrong… everywhere he touched, felt off…

  He looked around as the beast imposed his will. It did not fight him; it embraced its new master now having a purpose. Near the many corpses lay a series of caves extending deeper; the beast was too large to enter.

  yet still it claimed this mouth of a cave as its home.

  The entrance was wide and went a little way in before it was too narrow for this beast to go deeper. So it claimed the entrance and named itself king even when it ruled nothing… focusing on the wrong feeling instead and knowing what was bothering him.

  It was the world was blessed by light. Even here, so far from her reach, it still tainted even these lands. It made him sick…

  With a shuddering heave, he expelled gallons of dark, viscous fluid into the cave, the exertion leaving him utterly spent and collapsed; but in that vile puddle, he felt strangely whole, free, and secure.

  The bile's slow ascent mirrored the goddess's light crystal—a searing, corrupting light that spread across the land. But his darkness was an antidote, washing away the rot.

  The air cleared, making it easier to breathe, and as the refreshing air spread, his blurry vision sharpened, at least in this immediate area. The other places still suffered, their silence broken only by the occasional sigh of the wind. Yet not here, where the shadows stretched long, and the silence was heavy, did he sleep…

  In the dark cave wandering from sight, little scavengers seeking scraps crawled upon the ground. They heard the commotion before and were used to the beast battles they were not. Afraid they were encouraged.

  Food came from those battles they tried checking and saw it sleep. Confused but not caring they sniff around the air was pleasant? Fresh new. They went close to see and step into the water. They drank, unsure, and felt anew.

  They ran back deeper into the caves to spread the gift. A random predator caught and ate one of the little things, and it too was anew and sought to do the same…

  The mountain slumbered, but within its heart, the lord's will crept, its silent advance mirrored by the subterranean growth of the creature he commanded. The Kobolds, toiling in their mines, felt the mountain breathe a new life, unaware of the power of awakening beneath their feet, a power that would soon claim them.

  Far beyond the lord’s reach, the Kobold shaman felt the shift and rejected it. They blessed the land to stop the taint spread as they were going around securing their borders. The apprentice watched, confused.

  Why was he rejecting the gift? It was faint now, fainter still since the shaman was blessing the land, but he felt the power of the call; he longed for it.

  The shaman lord looked over at him in disappointment. “I teach U to listen”

  “No B stupid,” the apprentice was shamed. They learned some human speech for trade with the dwarfs, but he hated it. It felt wrong. He liked their grunts more. A slap in his head stunned him, followed by grunts.

  The shaman was telling him he was not listening, that it knew best. And for him to follow. So he did, with the shaman going around in various tunnels.

  He kept putting barriers of magic light; it could not spread like the rocks he saw before, but it kept the actual monster at bay. It was painful for them;

  Though now he wasn’t sure. He felt a kinship with that which his master rejected. So was his master wrong?

  After they secured the tunnels, he shooed him away, tired of dealing with him. He felt defeated and went to sulk in a side tunnel. There was squeaking in pain, and I wondered what it was, and saw a broken rat writhing and dying from the barrier touch.

  Tempting to just let it die with indifference, bringing a little joy to his sour mood, but something about the darkness of the rat was desirable…

  He reached to save it, and instead, while holding the rat, he studied it closer to see what came of the creature that the light could hurt it.

  It puddled in his hand, dripping into the earth. Whisper of promises of the power of something more, and he kneeled. It rejected him, causing him to panic. It was not willing to share the gifts!

  It whispered in his mind that he was unworthy and that he needed blood and death. Proved he was worthy to help it grow. Lost and unsure of how to appease the darkness, he wasn’t afraid to kill, but who? Just anyone? Anything?

  The voice laughed and whispered in his ears, only to those who stood against me.

  Nodding resolutely, his old master was a fool, denying this deity’s growth.

  He would show them all he always wanted power, and now he did not have to beg for a chance at it. He just had to kill those that stood in the way, much easier…. And better.