Seth, a man of the youth roamed freely across the main province of Blackdawn. The black corvette style carriage was driven by a bushel of magnificent workhorses. The driver of the group was a man named as Toad. He had a brownish look to him and sought to be related to frogs in the local bars and pubs. Though, Toad was a very good works man, and this was Seth go to guy with every ride. Seated with him was two of Seth most trusted men of the guard service. One, a fellow warrior of the late bestowed James Sabrene, Kalos Malsup. Beside Kalos was his second hand man, named for his talent in sword combat quoted for never losing a sword battle to none? With both of these warriors at his side, he felt the security of an immortal king, but he was ignorant of the plans hosted by these men.
Day passed over to night. The stars sprinkled brightly over the landscape as they neared the gates of Lakeye. Seth had been called to obtain some justice to the city streets. Rebels have taken stand on the laws that Seth had laid down. The trap was set; soon it would be all over.
The crumpling ride of the carriage soon came to a stop. During the travel the top was pulled over the passenger area, bringing the brief era of the corvette styling to an end. Swinging his leg over the seat. Kalos’s soldier steps from the door, closing it behind him, once outside the man, brings his hand to the door, locking it from the outside without the knowledge of Seth. The darkened soldier grins righteously as he moves away from the door to stand next to the driver.
Toad gives a silent gaze down to the warrior, almost smiling to him. Without a sudden movement from toad, the man slings his fingers portraying out to Toad’s neck. The nails upon the warrior’s finger depict into the flesh of Toad. He scream but nothing erupts from the morsel of his mouth. Toad has been struck, and with the instant he feels the instant of death fall upon him. With the lifeless action, the body of Toad falls away, landing between the horse holsters. Licking the blood from his tips, the Arcanum within his mind surges with completion to the Cabal, not with the destruction of Seth the King.
The carriage carries none of these sounds, none of the death. Seth only has a joyous conversation with his sought to be friend Kalos. The picture of betrayal never hit Seth until the moment that the fist hit him. Quickly and sharply the fiction of blows sweep across his face by his adversary Kalos. Seth gasp as he reaches out, landing his arms on nothing as more arms begin to hit him from mysterious locations. Falling to the floor of the carriage Seth manages to speak the words of treachery, “Kalos, why my frie…” The last blow. The last surge of emotions as all is lost…
Tunnels of Lakeye: Next Day
Seth’s eyes lay tarnished covered by the desirable lashes of a dead man. He is alive, though barely, the morsel of the last meal he tasted has lifted his system, leaving him with nothing. He hangs from his hands, his knees doubled over holding him in a stance over the ground.
With only a tiny bead of sweat dropping from his brow, Xystus steps forth through a tunnel beneath Lakeye. The caliginous form of Xystus can be seen as merely a flickering wisp of nothingness as he progresses forth towards the king. Enveloped in the Nether tainted darkness; he completes his Shadow Step into the area....
The guards that were once formed around him, seem to maneuver from sight as the halls leak with a silent chill. The sensation spring between his bones bringing him to a mild awaking, the pupils expanding to search for light, but none is found. His throat is dry, so dry that the mucus between his teeth beginning to harden over his lips into a crusty myth..
With a grin etching across his countenance, steps forth towards the King. The corrupted darkness strips away from him.....slithering across his etiolated flesh as if it was flaking away like dead skin, ”Ahh.... King Seth. I have heard so much about you, " Xystus exclaims, his words echoing throughout the tunnel and his footsteps tearing through the silence like a hot knife through butter. " I hear you have known some of our past victims. The Dark Riders. The Brotherhood of Dark Mysts. " He is calm as he approaches the king's slumped body. The dank tunnels remain dark, encased within the amaranthine depths of the Nether.
Seth looks to the men with the hate feeling between his lungs. Simple as it may seem to a rested man, his muscle flaunt and give out as he tries to stride to meet this lord of the dark, only bringing him to knees once again. Gasping out for air as he settles upon the cold dirt, he raises his head and speaks out of disgust, "I will kill you.." The dried mucus, swirling from his mouth, follows his words..
Xystus shakes his head gently as he speaks his words. " I will kill you," Seth says... These four words are comical to Xystus as he reaches behind his back with his left hand, grasping a hold of a small vial, which he holds within a utility belt of sorts. " You shouldn't speak so harshly. I wish not to hurt you. I wish to free you from yourself," explains Xystus as he brushes the air with his right hand. Xystus's thunderous laugh erupts from his throat in response to the comical words. It booms throughout the dark tunnels and seems to even send inky undulations hurdling throughout the tangible darkness.
The King pulls weakly on the chains that ensemble a tight lock on his hands. The resistance put forth is no use in the ways of Seth, it will serve him nothing but more pain and hunger. Kicking his feet underneath his rear once more, he moves to a wobbling stance, coming to meet with the man equally, "You will not win in the end." Seth smirks to himself as he gives the only bit of self-justification as he can..
Xystus's countenance peers out from beyond the veil of darkness. Currents of alabaster light delineate each curvature of his visage, rounding each detail of his flesh. This sallow appearance could be defined as frightening, malevolent, sadistically. Any work... Brown strands of hair fall down to caress the wan flesh in smooth tendrils of silk. With a graven image of delight engraved within his flesh, Xystus steps pops of the lid of the vial and steps forth towards Seth. " You are correct. I will not win in the end," Xystus replies, taking a brief pause before continuing, " .....we will win in the end. "
Xystus's spidery finger clench around the glass vial containing the Arcanum. With it held in the fleshly confines of his hand, he snaps his hand forward....releasing it's dark contents out in an array to splatter upon Seth and quickly envelope his mind. The Arcanum moves with a meaning....a meaning to Assimilate.
The substance moves to Seth’s face and neck areas with the speed of an unknown giant. He lashes his head back as the pain blows through his body, and creeps into his head. Stumbling once again he falls back to the floor, straight on his back at the pain. Grasping his head during the painful event he screams aloud in turmoil as he body begins to shake..
Xystus's eyes squint slightly as he narrows in upon the effects of the Arcanum. Each time he uses it, it appears to have a different effect. Perhaps it is the host or perhaps it is the inevitable evolution of the Arcanum. Xystus knows, within seconds, the Arcanum will have it's semidiurnal grip upon Seth's mind and, thus, will become one with The Cabal..
The shaking stops. Silence. Silence overwhelms once more throughout the area of the tunnels. The transfixion between human to beast has been complete. Seth is knocked parallel from the world, leaving him only to be controlled by a simple yet magnificent creature, With the Cabal..
A new man has built. The once golden locks of hair, now shifted to dark suspended locks of nothing. His face changed from the lively bright face to a pale white background, with the evilness of darkness surrounding the eye. Tainted, the eyes move to open, a new being erupts from the body of Seth. The form represents that of Seth’s once held enemy. Kner Sabrene, nephew to the once king James Sabrene, and son to the evil master, Goulas Sabrene. Seth was no longer of the good. He was Kner Sabrene.
Darkness. Darkness never seemed so evil, the own stench of fate given from the dead used body of Seth reigns over the cramped spaces of every home of the rats that occupy the tunnels. Alone, the man now known as Kner feels nothing but content to the sinister dark that surrounds him. With connection with the little light given from the moon, they glow with likeness to a cat or nocturnal beast. He grins with the simplicity of life that he has been bestowed to.
The body of the dead Seth has been changed, but the remarkable resemblance still holds true. The guards will look him still as the king. Seth’s wife, Kner’s cousin, will still look at him as the king. Kner smiles to himself as the plot devised by the Cabal has set out to be perfect. A combination of evil and the mind will never fail in a scheme. Still lying on the rear of his behind, he grows tired of the effortless position. Flicking his legs away from his chest, he springs forth. Grappling the air with his fingers, he slides his feet back under to match his shoulders. He lands. The bones pop in his legs, bringing a sight cast to them from Kner’s weak eyes. The eyes still belong to Seth, one fixation that was left in the process of change to Kner. This factor leaving to the only way to win a war between forgeries.
The walls around him loop over his head in a sort of sewer built pipe. The smell from the tunnels tells him that this might be that. With displeasing remarks, he moves away from the chains. They fall loosely to the soiled ground, indenting the sludge type ground with splattering mud. Kner moves naked across the darkness. The bare feet splattered imprints into the loose soil, leaving his trail traceable by any. The mind of the Cabal doesn’t mind these facts. They laugh.
With minutes of walking on sore feet, and tired muscles, he comes to a point where stairs have been thrown over the wall. The light from the moon shutters into the foxhole dug by the Cabal. He smiles as he sees light once again, reaching out and picking at it with his fingers. With one last look of delight, he returns to the simple man of darkness and anger. Reaching to the ladder with a right hand, he takes it with a good hold doing the same with his left. With no time passing, he brings his feet to follow as he moves up the creaky ladder.
Moving his head through the broken away ceiling, the first sights of Lakeye come to him in Kner form. The town is asleep. The thugs of the day have returned to their slumbers, relying on bed to protect them. The night must be late, he thinks, this is good. Bringing his hands to rest on the platform of the ground, he lifts his body through the whole. With ease he stands on the hollow ground. Below run the many tunnels, aching secretly to different havens.
Bodies of the dead just lay upon the ground. The town square is covered with body of blood and lost heads. A scene that resembles almost of Calvary sits around the fountain. Three cross line in a circle each with man that has been curved to the fittest to death. Kner attracted by this sight, moves to it with each step. The blur vision of his eyes clears as he closes in on the cross. The middle one hangs low to the ground with a newly acquired body. Kner smirks, as he knows this man, the man known as Toad. With the body of Seth, he also carries all the knowledge that he had possessed. Turning from the spot, he looks to all the bodies of the dead townspeople. This is more than Seth had ever thought to come into.
A picture flashed to his mind. The man, the man from his child hood, he looks across the buildings then looks directly to the Inn. The sign swaggers hanging on only one hinge as the wind blows away at it helplessly. Kalos, he is here. Using these mental connections with the man of his youth, he moves quickly to the inn. Reaching the doors, he kicks them open, the wooden slabs falls to the door, revealing another haven of death. Crusading further past the bodies, Kner steps to the stairs, they support no factor for him as he moves up them easily.
The mental images grow larger as he steps to the door of the sleeping Kalos. He grins as he opens it quietly. The door swings with the wind, revealing a new setting to the town. No death. On the bed lays the sleeping man. On his back he lays, enjoying the slumber of sleep. Kner crosses from the area, and moves to the bed traveling with a sly edge. He leans over the sleeping Kalos. Kner still naked and exposed to the fullest, showing no care with it.
Then, as everything seemed peaceful, the right arm of Kner quickly shoots down at the open neck of Kalos. Connection. With gasping breath the sleeps moves to awakening, Kalos sucks in the air above him as he looks to the familiar man. Kner grins with the insane looks as he speaks, “Oh Kalos… Don’t you remember me?”
Kalos breath lets out, though he sits there, as he prepares to speak. Kner frees his arm from his neck and steps away to the opposite bed. Kner stairs as Kalos slowly as he awaits an answer, “Kner… I see we have prevailed.”
Kner nods to the traitor of Blackdawn. A man of secrets. Though Kalos does not hold any powers of serves as a host to any of the Cabal, he serves as man in the middle to them. Kner grins as he speaks, “And so it shall begin.”
