Gaharón - Sample

My blood runs deep within the roots of this earth. My malice, my love, my hatred, my triumphs, my failures, my temptations, my lusts, my good will, and my ill-intent; coursing through the veins of the earth. The oceans run red with the blood of my ancestors, and the soil beneath my feet is tainted by the ashes of my enemies. Reaching into the deep places of the earth, I thrive on this coursing blood of mine which lies in waking there. I am Fäxrad, the Bloodchild. Formed from death and life, a union of malice and love; I am darkness, and I am death.

These were the words spoken to me by Him on the day my childlike innocence vanished, and I became aware of the world of Gaharón for the first time. The day when earth and sky collided and a chasam of blackness filled my soul. I forgot the legends of yesteryear, and hearkened no longer to the promises of the future. No longer did I require air to breath, nor liquids to drink, nor food to eat. I became as a thing without past, future, or present. A machine, created to serve…..a servant of darkness.

~~~~~

Torchlight strikes the eyes of those living in Coriander Manor, burning deep into the weakened eyes. Bloodshot and weary, shining out from the palest of faces, eyes that may or may not know the light of day. Living ghosts; shells of the people they once were.

Although it is morning, no light is shining down from Alïaxdra, our beautiful Mistress of the sky. Both moon and sun in one, she changes her garb to suit the needs of Gaharón. From her home within the clouds, she weaves her silken gowns of moonlit silver and scintillating gold. It is her only care to light up the world around her, as she has for the last four thousand years.

It has been many a year since the light of morn shone through the cobwebbed windows of Coriander. Fäxrad long ago forbade Lady Sun from removing her nightly cloak, thus leaving us only a Moon with which to light Gaharón. Catering to the orders of Darkness, Alïaxdra has accepted her banishment, and left our world cold and lightless. A frost has lain itself over the land; hugging the earth with a vice-like grip of ice and darkness.