Categories > Original > Fantasy
Immortality Achieved
0 ReviewsI made this a fanfic after getting a number of chapters into it as a book. I made it PG-13 so anyone can read it freely. It would normally have been rated R. I hope that it isn't too graphic to be ...
Prologue
"My liege. My lord and god. The Immortal Eizer. King of
Eizeria, Azarius Zeixar. That is what you were to be, but alas, due to fear on behalf of the royal council, you were exiled, cast out from your own home, your own country. And what would become of you? They did not care, so long as you left them in peace, they would never care. I alone would worry for your safety, I alone would pray to the gods that you would come back and take the throne. I was your oldest friend, perhaps your only friend. And even now, after hundreds of years have past, I still worry, I still pray for your safe return, for you to take the throne. But you will never return alive, not unless you have found means to extend your life. I live yet only due to the fact that I am an archmage, one of the most powerful of them too. It also helps that publicly, I... I speak ill of you. And for that, I am sorry. But in my mind, in my heart, in the depths of privacy, I think only of your safety, and the throne that was stripped away from you. Azarius. My friend. I miss you so. When will you return? When will you take back what is rightfully yours? My friend. How I've longed to hear your voice. Please be alive. Please return, if nothing else, to let me hear your voice again. I am old, I am tired. I wish to die. Even though my life has lasted longer than that of a normal human's, it will not last forever, it is nearing its end. Please come home. Please return to your home, to your friend. Come back to me, Lyod Drakmoore, your oldest, and tired friend." An old man dressed in a black robe, with a short white beard, and long white hair on the back of his head, (that being what little hair this man had left) said this-90 as he gazed out of the window of the tower in which he stood.
He grabbed a simple looking staff that was resting against the wall, the only thing unique about it being that three inches below the top of it was embedded a pearl, white as snow. It was firm and strong, yet soft and delicate. As the old man did this, the ground on which he stood shook, and the sounds of an explosion sliced through the all to quiet air. Using his staff and the wall, he steadied himself, and then he looked outside once more.
The sounds of weapons clanking against shields, armor, and more weapons began to sound, followed by the all too familiar dying screams. Fearing an invasion, the archmage hurried over to the center of the tower, to where a crystal ball lay on a pedestal. He began chanting in elven, trying to figure out who was leading this invasion, and who his master was. At first the crystal ball remained clear, then after a few moments, it became cloudy. Then a figure appeared, at first it was just a silhouette, but then light shined on it and revealed who it was. Lyod couldn't believe his eyes. It was his old friend Azarius, and he looked almost exactly the same as he did the day he was exiled, maybe one or two years older.
"Azarius. You've returned. And you are still a young man. How the gods must laugh at me, for reuniting us at last, but only after you would no longer recognize your old friend." Lyod sighed, with a tear rolling down his cheek. His crystal ball became cloudy once more, and then revealed the royal council. Though the members were different now then they were back when Azarius was exiled, they were just as powerful, if not more as their predecessors. Fearing for Azarius' safety, Lyod ran to his window, and chanted a spell of great power. The skies overhead changed, instead of being peaceful and white, they were now black and menacing. Lightning shot down from the skies, striking the council's guards, and killing them. Then Lyod chanted another spell. And with this one, small meteors rained down on the council, killing all but two of them. They turned to retaliate against Lyod, but never got the chance, for when they did, they were struck down, one by an icicle, and the other by acid. The acid eroded away at the councilman's skin and muscle, leaving only bone behind. And the worst part was, he lived through the entire experience. He suffered enormous pain as his back, left arm, right leg, and the left side of his face melted away, and he screamed in agony. Then he fell, and moved no more.
Azarius and the troops he commanded moved to the castle, and within the hour, they took it, slew the regent that was living there, as well as the rest of the town. The country would fall three days later, and be reborn under a new banner, a new king and emperor, Azarius Zeiaxar. Minutes passed after the castle fell, and Azarius entered the archmage's room.
"Hello archmage. I would like to thank you for your help today. I would also like to make you my advisor, and my head of magical developments." He paused only for a moment, as he circled Lyod. "What do you say Lyod, my old friend?"
"Your welcome Azarius. I would like to let you know my life is nearing it's end, and I've no way to extend it. If I could, I would gladly take that position." Lyod replied calmly.
"What if I told you Lyod I had the solution to your dilemma? Let me warn you though archmage, it is not permanent, and it requires stealing the life force of another. Would you still wish to extend your life?"
Lyod nodded. "Aye my friend, I would. For this would give us time to catch up, which is something I have wanted for centuries."
Azarius chuckled. "Indeed my friend. It would. And truth be told, every day since my exilement, the only company I ever wanted was yours. And now I have it." Azarius extended his hand, and Lyod shook it.
"My liege. My lord and god. The Immortal Eizer. King of
Eizeria, Azarius Zeixar. That is what you were to be, but alas, due to fear on behalf of the royal council, you were exiled, cast out from your own home, your own country. And what would become of you? They did not care, so long as you left them in peace, they would never care. I alone would worry for your safety, I alone would pray to the gods that you would come back and take the throne. I was your oldest friend, perhaps your only friend. And even now, after hundreds of years have past, I still worry, I still pray for your safe return, for you to take the throne. But you will never return alive, not unless you have found means to extend your life. I live yet only due to the fact that I am an archmage, one of the most powerful of them too. It also helps that publicly, I... I speak ill of you. And for that, I am sorry. But in my mind, in my heart, in the depths of privacy, I think only of your safety, and the throne that was stripped away from you. Azarius. My friend. I miss you so. When will you return? When will you take back what is rightfully yours? My friend. How I've longed to hear your voice. Please be alive. Please return, if nothing else, to let me hear your voice again. I am old, I am tired. I wish to die. Even though my life has lasted longer than that of a normal human's, it will not last forever, it is nearing its end. Please come home. Please return to your home, to your friend. Come back to me, Lyod Drakmoore, your oldest, and tired friend." An old man dressed in a black robe, with a short white beard, and long white hair on the back of his head, (that being what little hair this man had left) said this-90 as he gazed out of the window of the tower in which he stood.
He grabbed a simple looking staff that was resting against the wall, the only thing unique about it being that three inches below the top of it was embedded a pearl, white as snow. It was firm and strong, yet soft and delicate. As the old man did this, the ground on which he stood shook, and the sounds of an explosion sliced through the all to quiet air. Using his staff and the wall, he steadied himself, and then he looked outside once more.
The sounds of weapons clanking against shields, armor, and more weapons began to sound, followed by the all too familiar dying screams. Fearing an invasion, the archmage hurried over to the center of the tower, to where a crystal ball lay on a pedestal. He began chanting in elven, trying to figure out who was leading this invasion, and who his master was. At first the crystal ball remained clear, then after a few moments, it became cloudy. Then a figure appeared, at first it was just a silhouette, but then light shined on it and revealed who it was. Lyod couldn't believe his eyes. It was his old friend Azarius, and he looked almost exactly the same as he did the day he was exiled, maybe one or two years older.
"Azarius. You've returned. And you are still a young man. How the gods must laugh at me, for reuniting us at last, but only after you would no longer recognize your old friend." Lyod sighed, with a tear rolling down his cheek. His crystal ball became cloudy once more, and then revealed the royal council. Though the members were different now then they were back when Azarius was exiled, they were just as powerful, if not more as their predecessors. Fearing for Azarius' safety, Lyod ran to his window, and chanted a spell of great power. The skies overhead changed, instead of being peaceful and white, they were now black and menacing. Lightning shot down from the skies, striking the council's guards, and killing them. Then Lyod chanted another spell. And with this one, small meteors rained down on the council, killing all but two of them. They turned to retaliate against Lyod, but never got the chance, for when they did, they were struck down, one by an icicle, and the other by acid. The acid eroded away at the councilman's skin and muscle, leaving only bone behind. And the worst part was, he lived through the entire experience. He suffered enormous pain as his back, left arm, right leg, and the left side of his face melted away, and he screamed in agony. Then he fell, and moved no more.
Azarius and the troops he commanded moved to the castle, and within the hour, they took it, slew the regent that was living there, as well as the rest of the town. The country would fall three days later, and be reborn under a new banner, a new king and emperor, Azarius Zeiaxar. Minutes passed after the castle fell, and Azarius entered the archmage's room.
"Hello archmage. I would like to thank you for your help today. I would also like to make you my advisor, and my head of magical developments." He paused only for a moment, as he circled Lyod. "What do you say Lyod, my old friend?"
"Your welcome Azarius. I would like to let you know my life is nearing it's end, and I've no way to extend it. If I could, I would gladly take that position." Lyod replied calmly.
"What if I told you Lyod I had the solution to your dilemma? Let me warn you though archmage, it is not permanent, and it requires stealing the life force of another. Would you still wish to extend your life?"
Lyod nodded. "Aye my friend, I would. For this would give us time to catch up, which is something I have wanted for centuries."
Azarius chuckled. "Indeed my friend. It would. And truth be told, every day since my exilement, the only company I ever wanted was yours. And now I have it." Azarius extended his hand, and Lyod shook it.
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