Dahnaar: Fire and Ice - The Fall of Arcotane

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Jan 1, 2010, 5:59am

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Dahnaar: Fire and Ice :: Neutral Areas :: The Ruins of Arcotane :: The Fall of Arcotane

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Topic: The Fall of Arcotane (Read 192 times)

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The Fall of Arcotane
« Thread Started on Jun 8, 2007, 5:14pm »

((Just a bit of history for you (: ))
--

The shadows of the colossal structures seemed to stretch for miles in the mid-morning sun. Mighty Arcotane stood tall in the center of the Dahnaarian Plains, its dual towers reaching high into the clouds. Forged by powerful magic from solid onyx, the smooth, flawless walls of the hexagonal North Tower seemed to absorb the sun’s rays, while the pure white marble of its southern twin reflected them with such great intensity that it was sometimes painful to look at.

The mages and sorcerers that inhabited these two magnificent towers could be seen, on most occasions, bustling like tiny ants across the gigantic stone archways that joined the two structures, the stone bridges of neutral grey that symbolized the connection between light and dark. The wizards who had founded Arcotane had done so with the intention of teaching young magic-users both “light” and “dark” magic, believing such distinctions to be trivial, and had erected the towers with much symbolism in mind. Even the crest that hung above the entrance of each of the towers held these ideals, depicting a pair of serpents twisted around one another - one black and the other white.

Unfortunately, not all of the individuals living and training in this magical place shared the values of the founders and over the years more and more wizards gravitated toward one side or the other. Divided, the unmatched power of Arcotane was slowly lessening. Even so, the legendary towards were often thought of as the magical center of the planet, and with all the gifted sorcerers that resided there, they were certainly unbreakable.

Ordinarily, everyone in Arcotane was occupied with there own business in on tower or the other, or in between on the bridges. This day, however, was different. Earlier that week, one of the Elders of Arcotane, a sorceress by the name of Azalda Sanir who specialized in Sight, had had a terrifying vision

“Beware the union of Light and Dark!” she had shouted without warning, crazed, eyes rolling blindly in her head, “The end is nigh! The end is nigh! Arcotane will crumble as the Night and Day join as one! The Sun and Moon will walk the earth and bring end to us all!” With that, she had fallen dead, leaving the other Elders to interpret the cryptic warning without her expert opinion.

Though the meaning of what would eventually be known as “The Last Prophesy of Arcotane” was debated by all, one thing seemed clear: the towers needed to be separated immediately if Arcotane had any hope of surviving. Wizards chose their sides, and now each group stood outside around their respective towers, or peer out windows, to watch the demolition of the slate arches that connected the north and south towers. One young mage stood among those who had chosen the light, looking mournfully at the onyx spire of the opposite side. While most had chosen sides readily, he was one of the few who had held the unity of the towers dearly, and was rather dismayed about the entire situation.

The excited buzzing of both crowds died suddenly as the elders emerged, three appearing from the white structure and two from the black. The five lines up between the two crowds, several metres east of the grey arcs suspended far above them. Both crowds cheered as they readied themselves to destroy the first bridge.

Their timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

Before the Elders had a chance to begin, a deafening crack, like a single clap of thunder, rang through the air. A line of blinding light flashed down the center of all six arches at once, and after a moment of awed silence, half-a-dozen slate structures collapse inward. A few people in the crowd cheered, but soon stopped when they realized that the feat had not been performed by any Arcotanian.

As the broken archways came crashing to the ground, they threw up a thick sheet of dust that blocked out the sky, and the towers’ inhabitants were thrust into shadow. Murmurs of awe, wonder, fear spread like a wave through both groups, gradually increasing to a roar of anxious questioning.

It was soon clear that the dust in the air was not the only thing holding back the daylight, for as the clouds settled to the ground once again, a black veil remained stretched across the sky. With the air clearing, an ethereal blanket of shadows could be seen swirling and flowing far above the residents of Arcotane. The young mage, like so many others, desperately scanned the towers for some sign of the origin of the misty dome above them.

His search was not in vain, for soon two orbs became visible suspended between the two towers several stories up. As the structures to either side of them, one was as pitch as a starless night sky, the other as bright as the noontime sun. And though the mage was unsure of his sight at first, it was soon plain that the spheres were growing, stretching into shapes all-to-recognizable.

“The Sun and Moon will walk the earth and bring end to us all…”

The words of the prophesy echoed softly in the mage’s mind as he watched the figures in the sky begin to settle into a more solid, more human form. Some people were panicking now, confused by the bizarre turn of events, shouting, screaming, scrambling over one another in a hopeless attempt to escape their doom. Others sought to fight off this unknown threat, preparing spells and falling into defensive stances. The young mage was among those running, turning from his home and fleeing, not even looking back at the thunderous crashes and explosions that suddenly erupted somewhere behind him. Nor did he look back at the shrieks of those caught in the downpour of stone as the indestructible towers came crashing down on top of them. Nor at the malicious laughter of the mysterious attackers as the first of the wizards reached the edge of the dome of shadows, which despite its fluid appearance turned out to be quite solid. Only when he realized they were all trapped did he slow to a halt, glancing over his shoulder at the destruction.

“Arcotane will crumble as the Night and Day join as one…”

The majestic towers of Arcotane had indeed crumbled, and rubble of white black and grey lay strewn across the plain, all speckled red with the blood of those crushed beneath. But it was the broken, jagged bases of the unbreakable towers that sent shivers down the mage’s spine, forcing him to turn his head once more.

All around men and women were hurling desperate spells against the unnatural walls that confined them all. Suddenly, a jet of blue light shot past the young mage, missing him by only a few centimeters. Instead, the stream of energy struck an older wizard not far in front of him. The man momentarily glowed the same azure as the magic that had stricken him before the light faded, leaving the wizard frozen solid where he stood. A similar bolt of red passed the now-terrified mage on the other side soon after, hitting a woman close to his own age square between the shoulders causing her to be engulfed in searing flames.

A blast from somewhere behind caused the mage to instinctively throw himself to the ground, his arms shield his head. After a moment, he felt something heavy land across his back. Twisting around half way to see what was on top of him, the mage was met by the dull, lifeless eyes of a wizard he vaguely recognized from around the north tower.

With a soundless scream, he buried his face under his arms once more, unable to do anything else. He lay there for quite some time, paralyzed with fear, trying to block out the horrific sounds of the chaos around him. He couldn’t remember when the tears began to spill down his face, but by the time the last screams faded away his eyes burned and dirt from the ground on which he lay clung to his moistened cheeks.

The eerie calm that had only just begun to fall was broken by the crunching of boots walking across the tiny fragments of stone than now littered the area.

“Well now, that was easier than I was expecting.” The smooth, collected voice was that of a young male, perhaps only in his early twenties. The mage lay still, afraid to even breathe lest the man realize he was still alive.

“Of course it was, you twit, I told you they wouldn’t be prepared for us,” replied a second voice. This voice, a female, maybe a year or two younger than her companion, came from only slightly further away. But, unlike the man, there was no sound of movement to be paired with this individual, and the mage assumed her to be standing in place.

The man’s steps slowed and then stopped, and there was a long stretch of silence.

“Looks like the black one took it better than the white.” The man’s comment was made in a normal, conversational tone, as if the speaker was completely oblivious to the ruins surrounding him.

“How…appropriate.”

“Indeed.” Another pause. The mage listened fearfully as the man took another few steps in his direction, finally coming to rest right next to him. Praying he hadn’t been noticed, he held his breath.

“Should we clean up?” The man standing above him idly kicked the mage in the side as he spoke.

“No. Urloduak said nothing about removing bodies and I’m not about to get my dress soiled if I don’t have to. I don’t know about you, but dragging corpses around is certainly not a hobby of mine.

“Of course, your majesty, the man muttered sarcastically. To the mage’s relief, the footsteps retreated. A second set of feet soon joined the first, and the Sun and Moon of the Last Prophesy left the scene leaving a single survivor behind them.

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