Midnight In A Ruin
Midnight in the Trial of the North...
After the death of the dark moose creature...
The two figures which looked like brothers walked down a worn out path.
The older brother, Rhaedric Drakovar was walking confidently at the front, holding a wonderful silver great sword.
He had long and firey red hair, his skin slightly tanned, eyes were like that of a ruby gem and the sun, and his body was built and properly nourished.
"What's wrong my idiot brother? Keep up or you'll get dragged away by the wolves again!"
Tsk.
The Rhaedric clicked his tongue as he glared at his younger brother over his shoulder.
He then kept on walking.
The younger brother, Adrian Drakovar...
Is that really my name? I was given this right after we went into the trials... I... I want my own name...
Despite thinking this, his expression was hidden behind his disheveled and messed up hair, it's color was pale red and his eyes were a lifeless gray color.
His skin was pale, and he was shorter than his brother despite being the same age of sixteen.
He was skinny too, which made his companions wonder how he even survived being attacked by wolves.
The younger brother followed closely behind his older brother, he held a stone sword this time, no longer a shabby dagger that was carved from a branch.
' I want to become stronger...'
He sighed.
The brothers past a few more bushes and trees that littered the worn out path and finally they set their eyes on a ruin.
The walls were black and looked burnt, scorched by who knows what from generation or centuries ago.
* * *
They both entered the ruins, the rusty black gates were opened enough that they could crawl underneath it.
It was not a large ruin, and it could barely be called a ruin.
Can a ruin be called ruins if it's not that ruined?
Rhaedric stabbed his great sword on the ground and then walked towards the center of the circular ruin.
There were a few broken parts of the ruin here and there but everything else seemed not so ruined, like there have been people cleaning and keeping this place maintained.
Adrian followed behind as he sheathed his stone sword on his shabby belt held by vines, animal skin and actual leather from what it was originally made from.
"..."
"..."
Both of them kept quiet, standing still at the center of the ruin.
Suddenly.
A whisper suddenly assaulted their ears, almost making both of the brothers stagger:
[The sun falls and the moon rises, bounding thine in eternal shackles...]
The Adrian Drakovar shivered at the voice, like scratching a fork on a plate, like the voice hasn't drank any water at all.
Watching the younger brother breath heavily, Rhaedric Drakovar stepped forward and then spoke:
"The ashen trees serve as shade, only to allow thy soul to wander thine plain..."
Rhaedric gritted his teeth as he glanced at Adrian, waiting for him to continue.
Adrian gulped and stood up right, his weak voice was barely louder than a whisper, but still heard.
" Awaken, Heir of the Dead."
The wind stopped, their breathing suddenly grew shallow.
Suddenly they gained their focus and saw vague figures at the corner of their eyes.
Pointed ears and mangled bodies, long dirtied hair and their eyes were lifeless.
The two brothers were surrounded...
Thud...
A small thud suddenly diverted their attention and they looked behind themselves.
Only to meet yet another towering figure.
[The Heir of the Dead greets you with great appreciation.]