Phantammeron Book One Read online

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  Beyond the Veils of Night, past the gloomy Corridors of Darkness that wound their way through the Lands of Midnight, there lay a wrecked and ruined region called the Realms of Oblivion. Chained to the unforgiving shade, this sad realm lay permanently stained by the ever-lengthening shadows that crept into it from the neighboring domains of darkness.

  Here, countless menacing mountains stood, rugged and savage, their horned peaks thrusting up like daggers of obsidian through the belly of a tumultuous sky. Bound by black ice and pelted by frigid rains, their unrelenting winds chewed away at the weathered rock that lay exposed upon its heights. Their barren crags and cliffs looked down with pity upon bottomless pits and chasms of blackest night, whose unknown depths, cloaked in a cold gray fog, no living thing had ever seen or fathomed.

  Here lay a domain much maligned, spawned by the mind of a being born of ultimate destructive and evil intent. By its crushing hand had that land become a place beyond all measure of cruelty fashioned—a world of blight, famine, and pestilence which had risen forth from the violence and destruction that had eternally plagued it. The gloomy valleys of this ominous realm had long remained imprisoned in the grip of the dead and the dying. For about its expanse remained the wreckage of a vast and unending war, whose fierce conflict, unleashed over many eons had nearly consumed it.

  Yet upon the slopes of the shadowed mountains slept the sparse remains of a once-divine city, rising up from a vast graveyard plain below, about whose foggy tombs of the dead trailed away countless stone stairways, down into the dizzying depths of its yawning pits. Above those ruins the remnant battlements of a mighty keep now stood, with walls of steel and stone, the last victim of some forgotten siege from which forceful fists had rent a brutal justice upon its many shattered walls and spires. For the Primordial Ones had bent all their might to fell that fastness and drive its malevolent creator from its hold. The fortress had then fallen with its defenders in a final crushing blow, so that a tangled wreckage of crumbling rock, twisted iron, and earth were all that remained.

  Below those haunted battlefields of horror could still be heard the tortured screams and moans of the dying and the ghosts of the slain, their fallen enemies, continually roaring up from the cold depths of the shattered cities below. Only their pitiful cries of suffering now challenged the wailing winds in the peaks above.

  Countless carved tombs and crypts of colossal stone had arisen from the rock, strewn about the pits and valleys to honor the fallen in a great City of the Dead. Forgotten by the living, the shattered city and its sister necropolis now stood empty and abandoned. Only an oily, black mist crept about its crumbling walls, curling about the stony streets, and crawling down and around the roots of dying trees, whose twisted trunks hung bent and broken into the valley below.

  But the red and glowing eyes of sleeping beasts still blinked and rolled in the shadows of the haunted cities. For a few demonic beings crept there, lying hidden under slabs of stone, within cracks of walls, or under rocks and piles of rubble. These leaderless offspring of evil, the demonic enslavers of this land, had dwelt there in hiding for many lost ages. The last of their kind, they lay curled within the dark corners and spaces, bloodstained and blackened from ages of endless war.

  Others had perished, but only in form. For their spirits had remained behind to haunt the desolate landscape. Though their phantom spirits were now cleft from their bodies, their ghosts had remained imprisoned in the trees and rocks until the time when they would be reborn into this world. These sad specters would wait for their master’s return, when they would rise up again in flesh even more frightening, unleashing their wrath upon the children of the world yet to come.

  Within the darkest depths of this fallen realm, a vile being had lain hidden, imprisoned in the bottom of its deepest pits. This was the cruel lord and callous ruler of that realm, he who is named the Limitless Void, the sinister second-born son of the Great Father.

  The Lord of Destruction he was called, a colossal being of uncontrolled power and might, who had for ages ruled over this vast domain of death. Like the Endless Night, his older brother, he was a cursed spirit who had succumbed long ago to the temptations of his own evil designs and delusions. For he had sought to defy his father and take his brother’s lands for his own. But the plotting of this cruel brother was more malevolent. For his villainous and violent mind was ever turned towards the utter destruction of the Primordial Ones and their children.

  In the youth of this world, the Essence Eternal had given the Limitless Void a most sublime gift. Through him was bestowed power over the dead and their consumption. And by his great appetite could he devour the waste of the world, returning all things to the primeval dust from which they were made.

  He was the eater of the Vatar, the flesh-of-the-earth that is the body. Yet, by his will alone were their spirits spared utter annihilation, as through death could they yet live again. And so by his hand were they born anew. For the Void alone had been granted the power to devour the endless train of the dead that wound its way to him, unbinding both light and shadow from their forms, and sundering their spirits from their flesh with his shining sword Vatavandr. Thus, the Limitless Void could return the spirits of the children of the Primordial Ones back to the world as a gift most precious. In flesh renewed could their spirits then be recast, as through death had the spirit of the world thus been remade. For this purpose alone had the Limitless Void been born.

  But long ago, the Limitless Void had in secret sought to defy his father and destroy his brothers in both flesh and spirit. He first set about building his arsenal and armies of might to defy them. By the hand of his swarthy smiths were fashioned dark swords of death to cleave their spirits in two. Cursed relics of black magic and strange enchantments were also forged, which he used to bind the lost spirits that dwelt within Oblivion to even more frightful forms of dread. And so were the black hosts of Oblivion first summoned forth from the infernal pits of the underworld by that sinister son.

  Within his lands he gathered his vast armies of might, commanding them to prepare for war. Great throngs of monstrous beings came before him, giving him their full obedience. His forces then flung wide the gates of Oblivion, creeping forth in one black mass to assault the neighboring lands of his brothers.

  But in the fray they were cast back, again and again. For they could not match the strength and power of the Primordial Ones, or the will and might of their noble sons and daughters. And so hatred and vengeance against them grew ever stronger in the black heart of the Limitless Void.

  Then was heard by the Limitless Void a strange and agonizing cry, echoing up from the depths below his cities. Beyond his father’s knowledge, he had travelled in secret to find its source—to the forbidden realms of the Great Beyond that lay upon the farthest fringes of his world. In that gray and infinite space, the evil twins, Emptiness and Nothingness, had lain hidden in their unending domain of death. For by their fear of the Sacred Lights of Heaven had those dire enemies of his father lain imprisoned in the sunless abyss of which they themselves were made.

  The Limitless Void summoned them forth. Their terrifying forms then appeared before him. And he saw that his own empty spirit, like a cup, would be filled with the dark draught of their mighty powers.

  Standing upon the edge of their grim abyss, the Limitless Void spoke bold words to the evil twins, saying, “Come before me, pale spirits. I alone know of your nature and of your secret desire for the world. If you will aid me in my war against my brothers, I will destroy the lights of Heaven wherever they might shine. And by their destruction shall you be free of your prison.”

  But the black storms of the evil twins boiled and blistered before the Limitless Void, ever-changing and most loathsome. Their booming voices then spoke, saying, “We will assist you in your time of need. But we do not as yet desire the death of the Sacred Light of the Creator. We seek only to devour the spirits of the living. When the last child of this world is consumed s
hall the Spirit of the World then perish and the light with it. My brother and I shall then be free to feed upon its lifeless corpse, as we have done many times before.”

  They then demanded he now sacrifice his own children to them. Only then would they grant him their many powers and servants of might.

  Hearing this morbid demand, the Limitless Void recoiled in horror. For he saw their true nature—that they were conceived within some vile womb of violence, decay, and death. And so was revealed to him their appalling evil most foul. But his desire to destroy his brothers burned like an insatiable flame that would never cease, so that he succumbed to their will, surrendering his own children to the black mouths of those vile beasts.

  Before their doom, his frightened children had tried to flee, flying beyond the peaks of Oblivion. But they were soon sucked down into the vortices of the many vile servants sent to find them, the last of their kind crying out to their father, begging for mercy. Their flesh was then ripped from their bones, and their spirits obliterated forever from this world, devoured by the gaping mouths of the Emptiness and Nothingness.

  With the annihilation of those spirits, the vile beings that dwelt within the Great Beyond rose up with even greater force, renewed and replenished by that grave sacrifice. Their frightening storms grew beyond their prisons, bursting forth into the world, defying the burning lights of Heaven.

  The Limitless Void, seeing the immense power of their storms, climbed upon a peak and spoke to the Nothingness, saying, “The time for you to devour the world has not yet come. For though the lights of Heaven have begun to fade, the lights of the Primordial Ones and their children still shine brightly.”

  He then commanded the Nothingness and his brother to come into his form and dwell therein. By his guiding power, he would take them to the lands of his brothers so they and their children might be consumed by them.

  The Nothingness rose up, and with his great gray face, smiled upon the Limitless Void, saying, “We shall now enter your flesh and become one with your spirit. But should you fail, you shall suffer the same fate that has befallen us.”

  The clouds of the evil twins then came into the mouth of the Limitless Void. Within him surged the unbridled strength and power of the evil twins, which they now bestowed upon him. By their powers, the Limitless Void could now obliterate all things in this world, if he so desired. And so in his prideful and devious mind, he plotted unbridled destruction upon his brothers and their kind.

  In a vicious assault, the Limitless Void unleashed great wrath upon his brothers, so that their children fled before the ruin of his hateful carnage. From his monstrous mouth billowed forth storms and violent winds of savage destruction. For he had summoned forth the full powers of the evil twins, whose vast vortices could annihilate all who stood before them in futile defiance. Many of the last and greatest works of the Great Father then fell into crumbling ruin before the violent onslaught.

  The Primordial Ones’ many servants and shining armies fled before the frightful forces that the Limitless Void had now unleashed, until many of their own children fell before that evil, consumed into the gray mouths of the Nothingness and Emptiness, never to be seen again.

  His brothers, in terrible fear and despair of the Limitless Void’s vast and unlimited powers, seeing his alignment with the monstrous horrors that had long dwelt in the abyss, faced the full force of their brother upon the battlefields of space and time. For the Primordial Ones had risen up as one force united to challenge him. By their unity were they victorious. But not without great sacrifice had they won. For many of their strongest and bravest children had perished in that frightful war.

  They then took the Limitless Void away in shackles. Chained to the bottom of his own pit, he now lay imprisoned. There he wept, tortured by unfulfilled desires and uncontrolled hungers, which he could no longer satiate. Within the rocky depths of that chasm he cried out in endless suffering, agony, and isolation.

  With the fall of the Limitless Void, the terrible twins of the Nothingness and Emptiness fled forth from his weakened form, out into the Heavens, seeking vengeance upon the living that yet remained. But the Primordial Ones, seeing those mighty horrors rising forth before them, awakened the Sacred Light, which one among them had found hidden on the slopes of the Mountains of Heaven.

  As they cast its mighty beams down upon them, the Nothingness and Emptiness were burned and blinded, once more, falling back into their prison, never to rise again. For as long as the children of this world yet lived, and the lights promised to them still shined, the evil twins would be bound to the abysmal depths of the Great Beyond.

  The Limitless Void now slept alone in the pits beneath Oblivion, anchored by long black chains to the rocks below. But in his misery, there remained in his heart the desire for freedom, and revenge upon his brothers.

  But in the corners of his misty cavern, he came upon a strange pool filled with weird waters, black and poisonous. About that decrepit well stood a dark husk of a great tree, the dead and bent limbs of which hung, like long dark fingers, down into its silent waters. In his frustration and anger he took Vatavandr, the spirit-sword his father had given him, and cast it into the pool. His eyes burned with a vengeful light, as he watched the shining sword sink beneath the waves.

  The Limitless Void stood before the putrid waters of the silent well, thinking upon all he had lost, when he saw the image of a dark spirit shining dimly upon its surface. There then appeared the ghostly image of a dark queen, who revealed to him strange visions of future events and tidings of things yet to come. But as those images faded before him, a dark object shone forth from the depths of the pool.

  Pulling it from the water, the Limitless Void saw it was a ring carved of darkest jet, whose great stone shined forth with an eerie light. But for fear of it, he would not wear it, as he sensed something cursed and baneful about it. But through his touch was his spirit strangely bound to that malevolent band.

  He returned to sleep, where in dreams mysterious and haunting, there entered into his mind the image of the ring again. From his prison, he awoke, as in a sweat, crying out for the last of his winged servants, who soon came to him from the dark Realms of Oblivion above. One by one they flew to him in his prison. They then tried to free him, but could not. For those black chains were enchanted by an unbreakable magic. He then sent servants into the world, commanding them to bring news of his brothers’ plights and the many secretive plots they had made against him.

  To the Limitless Void then came the secret knowledge of his brothers’ works and the labors of their last children in this world. This knowledge he gathered to himself, so that in time he could use it to his own benefit. By the dark works of his servants, he then placed before his brothers many traps born of their own temptations and carnal desires, which in time he knew would bring doom upon them. For by their own decadence would they plant the seeds of their own destruction, and by these acts, his freedom.

  But the Limitless Void could not escape his prison. And in those terrible depths was he doomed to dwell alone for many ages, far from the Great Father’s guiding lights, which still shone faintly upon the Mountains of Heaven.

  This world now was spared the cruel hands of darkness and destruction. And the designs of evil’s vile benefactors were stayed. Its two troubled sons now restrained, that embattled world fell into a certain, yet fleeting peace, once more.

  The Dreaming Seas

  For many ages there dwelt alone, under those quiet Heavens, the sad and solemn third-born son of the Great Father, he who is named the Twilight Mist. That wayward son had mourned for his father, alone in the depths of a dark and rocky abyss that lay beneath the vast Arch of Heaven. For this was his domain, a land born of haunted mists and evening’s shade, whose lavender clouds perpetually drifted out over the rocky firmament, filling the lonesome spaces beneath the bosom of the mighty mountains.

  His were the powers of the dewy mists, which the Great Father had granted unto him so that this world migh
t be fed by his life-giving rains. But it was the gift of his mysterious twilight glow, the Avara or shining mist, which alone had remained to brighten this doomed world. For its dim and dusk-filled lamps ever burned upon the surface of the waters of his sad heart. And therein would shine the last light of hope that peace would dwell again in the hearts of his brothers.

  Embattled with his siblings, having suffered by their endless wars and treachery, the Twilight Mist lay weary and broken in the valleys of his distant lands. There he remembered his father’s words, spoken to him so long ago, and looked with bitterness upon the lightless peaks where now only a faded glow of his father’s lights had remained. He had held in his weathered hands the strange and mysterious waters given him by his father, looking into them at times for solace, and the blessings of his merciful spirit.

  As he wept for him, he saw the light of his father’s face shimmering upon its surface. But as he looked deep into the pool, the ghost faded from view. The Twilight Mist turned and looked away in bitterness. But as he did, a new shining vision appeared upon its surface. He saw within those waters a dim glow cast from some strange forest. In its midst grew a golden tree, high upon a hill, which looked down upon a shining pool of silver. And he saw that the twilit aura cast forth from the mingling of their lights was much like his own.

  But as the vision faded, he cried out to his father in frustration and confusion. For he knew not the meaning of that vision, nor the purpose of those waters given to him so long ago.

  The Twilight Mist then took shape as a thick fog, gathering before him swirling clouds and tumbling mists born of his anger, fear, and frustration. Up from that vast gulf he climbed, high into the Heavens, curling and twisting in a savage display, until drowned in his own dew, he fell back upon himself, dripping down his waters into the empty waste below. Like endless tears his waters fell, the first tender rains of the world, down into an unfathomed pit, until there rose up from the dismal depths a dark ocean, rolling and raging in the twilight gloom.

  The Twilight Mist then lay calm, drifting out upon the face of the waters he had made, casting his dim lights upon the surface of the seas. For the beauty of the waters, and the doleful song of those seas, drew him down upon their bosom. As the secret waters of the seas and the dews of the mist embraced, the Twilight Mist felt his Father’s love burning bright within him. And the power and purpose of all he had made filled his spirit at last.

  And so was fulfilled the making of the Dreaming Seas that the Great Father had foreseen. For this was the one labor he had given his son.

  In that wild ocean there lay entombed in their watery womb a sleeping dark-haired maiden named An. Her divine form now lay silent and serene in a secret sepulcher in the shadowy depths of that brine. Wrapped in the raiment of her dreams, untouched by time, there fell upon her quiet mind faded images of a past and future yet to be. Like the rough waves that rolled above her, she tossed and turned in tortured slumber. For she was cursed to bear alone dark dreams, born of that cruel and unending sleep, where fleeting phantoms without forms or faces, spawned from some black night of the mind, haunted her with strange visions she could not yet fully fathom.

  As the ages passed away, this lonesome child of the seas lay bound in the loving embrace of her mother’s swelling waves. Yet none could find her there in its depths, nor disturb her fright-filled sleep. For the Dreaming Seas, like a fortress around her, lay unassailable, with boundless cliffs of water, foam, and spray. So this Child of the Mist and Sea lay guarded and unseen.

  But An’s parents had placed within their sleeping child a special heart, whose magic waters it alone would bear. For with the gentler generations yet to come, these waters she would someday share. But in their wisdom, they determined she should remain undisturbed and inviolate, ever after. In her watery prison was she so chained, never to depart or awaken again. Yet, the haunted waters that had filled the fair maiden’s time with the nightmares of her timeless mind, the world’s fateful future, uncertain and unknown, she and those waters would decide alone.