The Author, the Well, and Another World (1)

“All hail Madhad, the spear of Valor, the hero of the nation of Thesia”, the announcer spoke as his voice was broadcast to the entire city. Voice echoed as it bounced off the cobblestone streets and the tall, ornate buildings that lined them. The usually bustling avenues were now eerily quiet, save for the distant murmur of the gathered crowd. Every soul in the city seemed to have converged upon the main square, drawn by the momentous event unfolding there.

There was a large podium decorated with marks of the Thesia Republic, blue and teal banners embroidered with images of a siren looking towards the stars, sitting on the rock. Climbing the podium from the left was a man with muscles bulging from under his ceremonial armor. He had a strong jawline and long, flowing blue hair that cascaded over his broad shoulders. His intense black eyes scanned the crowd, reflecting a fierce determination. In his right hand, he clutched a magnificent spear, its polished shaft adorned with glowing magic gems that pulsed with an ethereal light. He was greeted with ovations and screams from the massive crowd of its citizens.

“All hail Andoras the third, elected ruler of the nation of Thesia”, the announcer continued, and from the right walked a man, his regal bearing evident in every step. He was clad in robes of deep crimson and gold, intricately embroidered with symbols depicting glyphs pertaining to the sea. Behind him, an entourage of richly dressed aristocrats followed. Among them, a young woman, her hair elegantly coiffed and adorned with pearls, carefully carried a small, red velvet pillow. Upon it rested a delicate glass vial, filled with a substance that pulsed with a soft, ethereal blue light.

“Madhan has returned from a quest to defeat the Aleya, a sorceress who cursed our waters for decades and brought suffering to our people and all our shoreline cities. Thus, today our ruler will present the hero with our most valuable item - Thesia’s tears. One of the few viles left by our nation’s founder.”

Andoras took the vial from the pillow and then turned to Madhad, his gaze steady and filled with respect. With utmost care, he extended his hand, offering the vial. Madhad, mirroring the ruler's gravitas, reached out and accepted "Thesia's Tears”. A hush fell over the square, a moment of silence as the artifact passed into the hero's keeping.

“Madhan will now address the crowd,” the announcer said as he climbed the podium, handing a horn-looking tool, which was used to broadcast the announcements.

Madhan put away the vile in his pouch, bowed to the king, and then turned to the crowd.

“Citizens of Thesia Republic, it brings me great joy to be standing on this podium today to bring you the news of the sorceress' defeat. This quest took a long time, and many sacrifices were made along the way. The last of my original party member, Johan the bow of Valor, succumbed to the evil’s attacks, but not before dealing significant damage to the enemy and allowing me to strike the final blow.”

He continued, “But his life was not in vain. We defeated Aleya and her followers. Those who follow the teachings of the Sabbath must be removed from this world. And thanks to your gift, that dream comes to fruition. I have received the final ingredient to a spell I've been working on for the past twenty-five years.”

He paused and took a deep breath.

“When we started this war against followers of Sabbath, we were young adventurers, full of enthusiasm, and lacked much experience. It took us years to reach the state where we could wage war against the greatest foes this world has known. But in that battle, lives were lost, so I’d like to ask you to cheer for the fallen heroes who have moved on to the realm of heaven. Laura, scholar of Valor; Rayna, priestess of Allegoria, daughter of the elven lord; Joanikies, the hammer of Barrow; Valeria, representative of the tribe of Houndu, a demihuman warrior; Marco, sword of Valor; Johan, the bow of Valor. And others who aided us but have fallen. Your lives were not in vain. The dream of destroying the Sabbath is at hand.”

The crowds cheered the names of the fallen, and the fireworks shot up in the air. It was a day of celebration, although no one knew what was to befall them the next day.

“Is it ready?” Madhad asked, staring at what appeared to be a large, obsidian-like stone, intricately carved with deep, swirling patterns. Runes were written throughout its surface. There were holes carved in which several items were placed.

“Yes, my lord,” an old man replied. His voice was raspy, and clad in simple, faded grey robes that seemed to sag on his thin frame, mostly covered by a long white beard. “All we need are the tears. Then you just chant the words.”

“Finally!” Madhan’s face curved in a smile as he poured the liquid from the vial.

"Realm of the Sabbath, now I claim,
Open the gate, in shadow's name.
To the deep, where darkness reigns,
Unleash the forgotten, break its chains!"

The ground underneath the obsidian started to crack. A rift started to open, and the gates of the underworld have been opened. The boundary between the land of the living and the demons has crumbled.

A figure had appeared among the shadows that were venturing out into the world. His form looked human, but he was covered in the veil of darkness.

“Behest...” Madhan smiled at the creature.

“Good to see you, Madhan. You have done well. To think you endured all these years, living among these vile creatures. But fear not, we shall now capture their souls and feed upon them as they live in agony day by day, reliving their worst memories, again and again. Oh, truly vengeance will be swift.”

“It was worth it, as I get to see you again, Behest,” Madhan said as he closed in proximity to the shadow. He placed his hand onto the head-shaped part of the shadow, and leaned on to kiss it.

As the two reunited, screams were echoing from the outside, as the world was falling into complete darkness.

. . .

Man, look at the time. I have to get up early for work. I got several deliveries for tomorrow. I thought to myself as I looked at the clock. Rough draft is complete and outlines for the story are in place, I thought to myself as I kept re-reading the last part.

Can’t wait to read the comments once people read my work. They will never expect that they are reading a fantasy fiction where the hero is revealed to be the villain. I’m just hoping that some general tropes of the fantasy writing don’t drive them from the work. But still, there is a lot more work to be done. I need to finalize the characters, then I need to write all the dialogue and flesh out the events. All I currently have are outlines and some major event dialogues.

I was tired; my shift ended a few hours ago, and after dinner, all I did was write. My hands are sore from all the typing. I shall just save this to the USB stick and take it tomorrow to the literature club, to show off the draft and ask for feedback. They are going to love it, I am sure.

“I mean, honestly, I don’t know if people will read this long to get to Laura’s death,” Mio said to me. It was a few days after I gave out my story for feedback. “Even for an outline, there are pages of content that are just not that enticing. You just set a hero down on his quest, and it takes too long to build up that he is evil.”

“Mio is correct,” Kenji intervened. “You should maybe rethink how some aspect of the story setup. You can save some of the events, and you can even keep the world-building. I think readers will favor a more tamed magic system. But sorry to say, overall, it just needs a stronger foundation.”

The feedback kinda stung. I’d rushed out of the school and hopped onto my bike. In my backpack was a printout of the story, along with comments and feedback on what I needed to change.

Hmmf, what do they know? How much effort did they put into their work? I have yet to see what they wrote for their entries. I knew I was projecting guilt as anger. Maybe I just need to start over, find a better idea. I raised my head to see the clouds being embraced by the warm orange light of the setting sun. But as I lowered my head, I was greeted by cold, yellow flashing lights.