A magical operation of the highest priority is underway; the dawn of a new era... When the need arises, a single word will suffice to bathe the entire planet in blood.
PROLOGUE
The Guardian stared into the depths of the Mirror, reveling in the sight of the all-encompassing blood. He had been standing there for several minutes, conducting his daily inspection of the recent months' loot. Weary of the recurring scenes—vampires impaled—he finally averted his gaze from the well-like mirror and surveyed the chamber. He thought to himself that this chamber perfectly encapsulated the curse to which the Circle had always been condemned—solitude. Located in the deepest depths of the Keep, it was plunged into perpetual darkness, designed to isolate those within from the world around them. It was a high, circular room, its only illumination coming from a mysterious substance flowing within a small well in the center of the chamber, and from the glow of candles placed along the rim of the vessel itself. The only exit from the chamber was a tall wooden door. Two ornately carved columns supported the ceiling on either side of the well.
Five people—five members of the Circle—stood by the well, gazing into the depths of the strange substance flowing within the vessel. To an ordinary person, it looked like nothing more than clear water, but the Guardians could evoke images of events unfolding throughout Nosgoth in it, maintaining their connection with the land.
One of the sorcerers at the well—an old man with a long beard and a purple hooded cloak—finally stopped admiring the chamber and returned to examining their haul. The image in the Mirror showed a hill illuminated by the setting sun.
The hill was swarming with stakes, with vampires impaled on them.
Between the stakes, their executioners walked – tall knights in shining armor, called Sarafan. Their victims screamed in agony, thrashing and screeching to avoid the fate of their brethren, but each knew it was a futile attempt.
The Sarafan Brotherhood was renowned for its work well done.
The Guardians, gazing into the Mirror, glanced at each other. They could communicate without words. They decided they were satisfied with the day's loot and that it was enough for today. They were about to leave the well when the chamber doors burst open, illuminating the interior. Another Guardian stood there. His companions wanted to ask him what had happened... And suddenly, a sword blade pierced his stomach, spraying blood across the stone floor. The man fell to the ground. From behind his body, the sorcerers saw a gigantic figure wielding a blood-soaked sword. The figure entered the chamber and stepped over the body of its victim. And then the Circle members screamed in terror, for they now knew who the uninvited guest was.
Or rather, what.
A vampire.
Their screams echoed the same word:
"Malek!"
A knight ran through the Keep's corridors like black lightning. His figure was illuminated by the sunlight cast through the stained-glass windows on the walls. The windows depicted towering figures, somewhat like Angels, wielding a sword embedded in the ground. But the knight couldn't stop for a moment to admire them.
He had to make it. He had to...
The vampire glanced around the hall. There was not a shred of mercy in his cold eyes. A luminous disc suddenly appeared in his hand. The creature threw it at one of the Guardians—a woman—who managed to shout the word "Malek!" once more before the bolt struck her in the head, splitting her skull in half.
Her remaining four companions retreated to the wall. The vampire swiftly traversed the entire length of the chamber and approached his victims. Another weapon appeared in his grasp—a blue arrow. The creature hurled it at another member of the Circle. The young woman's body was pierced by a bullet that vanished into thin air, never even reaching the wall. Before the body collapsed, another Guardian—this time a man—panicked toward the door. However, the vampire, with a deft twist, swung his sword arm to its full length. The blade severed the man's head, sending it rolling across the floor. The creature quickly shifted into its next position: it extended its left hand toward the last two Guardians. A crimson bullet appeared in its palm, which a nanosecond later struck the next victim squarely in the chest, pinning him to the wall.
One remained: an old man with a crimson hood.
The vampire approached him, as if savoring the moment. In the light from the corridor, the man could see his dark skin, pointed ears, and face twisted into a nightmarish smile.
"No," he thought. "I will not surrender." He was an Energy Guardian. He couldn't surrender.
He summoned all his remaining courage, his last reserves. He felt the calming power of the Pillars flow through his body. Multicolored bolts of energy appeared in his hands.
"Very well, vampire. Let's see if you and your race are as powerful as they say."
He stretched out his hands and fired the bolts. However, to his surprise and horror, they disappeared several meters in front of the vampire, harmless. The monster laughed mockingly. The old man realized he had only one more chance to survive. He opened his mouth and screamed in terror,
"Malek!!!
" "Call your dogs!" the vampire spoke for the first time. "They will be able to devour your corpse!" he finished, and threw another bolt at the old man.
The knight rounded the last bend. At the end of the corridor, the gates to the Hall of Mirrors gleamed in the distance. At that moment, he heard a scream uttering his name, followed by the vampire's mocking insults. Terrified, he ran for the door.
The old man fell to the ground. The vampire opened his mouth, and at that moment, something strange happened to the victim's body. It began to shake, and suddenly, streams of red blood seemed to "break away" from him and flow straight into the creature's mouth. The ghastly creature feasted briefly on its food... And suddenly, it sensed danger. It was real. It was close. It immediately finished its meal and used one of its many abilities – it became invisible. She retreated to the wall near the door, and at that same moment, the Sarafan Malek ran into the chamber. The knight, panting, looked around the room. He realized he was too late... And just as this terrible realization dawned on him, the vampire materialized behind him and struck his helmet with the hilt of his sword...
Not much time passed, though it felt like ages to Malek. When he awoke, he immediately realized where he was and what he was doing there. He should have expected this...
He found himself in a chamber so dark that the only distinguishable features in the darkness were a golden circle carved into the floor and two columns on either side, from which chains hung. Malek was chained to these chains, hanging directly above the center of the circle. The circle itself was a veritable masterpiece—golden in color and divided into three layers, each smaller than the last and placed closer to the center of the chamber. Each layer was carved with signs and symbols in some mysterious language. Malek hung directly above the smallest layer. He realized he was wearing no armor and was completely naked. With an effort, he raised his head and saw before him the top of some kind of podium, or perhaps stairs. And at the top, he saw the one he expected to see.
Despite having known him for a long time, he had never been able to get used to his strange appearance. For this man wore a dark cloak, and protruding from it were the very bones. They protruded from his chest—forming a kind of weave—on his legs, arms, everywhere... His face resembled a skull stripped of skin and muscle—it was the so-called Death's Head—his entire form looked like a skeleton.
"I must be in really bad shape for him to come here," thought Malek.
"Sarafan Malek," the mysterious figure began. "You were brought here on the charge of allowing the destruction of almost the entire Circle. What is your excuse?"
Malek tried to say something, to explain to him what had happened just before the vampire attacked the Circle... But only an incomprehensible moan escaped his lips, muffled by the pain of the chains cutting into his skin.
"So you are cursed," the skeleton continued his monologue. "Your punishment, however, will not be death... It will be life."
At that moment, pieces of armor flew from the unseen reaches of the chamber toward the circle. Malek's armor.
Its pieces met just before the Sarafan and reassembled into the shape of a human form. In the next moment, Malek felt something very strange and unpleasant—as if his very essence were being torn from his body. He felt everything he had ever been, was, and would ever be, cease to exist in the world he had known. For a few glorious seconds, he felt free for the first time in his life, as if he could do anything, yet at the same time, he felt small, lost... He felt others like him...
Then everything vanished.
He realized he was losing touch with this wondrous world. His very essence was hurled directly into the armor before him. Once inside, he felt an invisible door close behind him. He could never return to what he knew. Never. He felt his limbs regain feeling. He turned around. What he saw filled him with a horror and amazement unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He saw a skeleton suspended in chains.
His own skeleton.
He looked down at his new body—and saw that there was no body at all. Nothing was visible in the gaps between the armor. He couldn't see his hands. He couldn't see his feet. Though he didn't have a mirror, he was certain that if he looked through one, he wouldn't even see his face. He looked up. His tormentor still stood there.
"Your soul is imprisoned in the armor in which you lived your life so far," he said. "But you have one more purpose, the fallen—" He raised his hands in a solemn gesture. "You will serve us... For eternity."
A beautiful young woman stood before the scales, analyzing the processes of the Balance. She was very attractive, and her red dress added to her charm. In the grayness of the chamber she occupied, she was like a crimson light, adding color to reality. Before her stood a scale with two scales.
The scales were in balance.
From time to time, the woman added beautiful blue flames to one of the scales to maintain this precarious state. Suddenly, its glow was dimmed by the shadow of a figure. The woman sensed rather than saw the threat. She turned.
But it was too late.
The last thing the girl saw was a dagger, its blade pointed at her.
A few moments passed. The attacker was gone.
Suffering excruciating pain, the girl reached for one of the scales in agonizing movements. But at that moment, her strength left her, and with it, her life. Her mangled body, falling to the ground, dragged the scales with it.
The scales lost their balance.
A few moments later, in one of the land's countless clearings, something terrible happened. Deep cracks suddenly appeared in the nine Pillars of Nosgoth, reaching into the sky, reaching all the way to their core. Within seconds, the crystalline white surfaces of these columns turned black, their smoothness replaced by an unpleasant roughness.
The Pillars of Nosgoth were damaged.
And so ended another phase of the hellish invaders' plan, whose goal was the total destruction of the entire land.
And that was all for now... I await your assessment.
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