DONT READ THIS PLEASE.
I don't want feedback, thanks! I didn't follow the original goal of what I was trying to do.
I'm testing out my writing, I haven't really wrote in a while. If anyone does read this, I'd really like feedback, but I don't expect for anyone to, it's pretty long.
This take place in a land called Presiance(Presence) where once in everyone's life some people visit in order to find themselves and make the best choices in life. It's a world between worlds and lies in our concious. We make it what we want but it'll always be there.
My character Ezarah Graves-Hartman is a Lawful Evil vampiress. She's a princess of a small land and she always feel discontented with everything she has, she always wants more.
If Ezarah had come into this environment, she'd first wonder if it were some kind of very realistic illusion, something only a powerful being could conjure. She can feel the cold bite at her skin, colder than her own flesh. The field seems to be a wasteland in her eyes, a few dying roses scattered here and there, and sky has only just began to snow, so the ground was freckled with white specks of ice.
She wears her usually gown of a black, adorned with laces and embroidered with red flowers similar to the one before her, only hers seem more fresh and vibrant. The further you look the more foggy it is, so she begans to cautiously walk forward, feet crunching against the snow below.
After a while she begins to see a shadow come into focus in the fog, something that resembles a tree, but it's spider-like limbs seem to reach towards her, desperate for something it can not have. When she finally comes close enough, she realizes that the tree is an albino oak, it's bark blending it in with the now field of snow. She feels the wood with the tips of her fingers, pleased by the almost silk texture.
She catches something move out of the corner of her eye. Ezarah darts to the side and grasps the small blade near her thigh, crouching near the ground with her fangs bared. Hissing, she gazes around noticing the eleven black pedestals that have risen from the ground. They surround the tree in a wide circle, each of a different design. The air seems to have gotten even colder; Ezarah watches as her breath clouds before her, adding to the already dense fog.
Silence was what followed. The pedestals seemed to not be a cage nor weapon. They seemed to be waiting, but the vampire knew not what for. Ezarah uneasily stood up, still wary of her surroundings. She steps forward, waiting for an arrow to be shot or a beasts to appear, but only silence follows her actions. Ezarah stands upright and ambles towards the pedestal closest. This is when she notices that some of them appear to have objects placed on them but it's hard to what. The one that she is approaching seems to hold a dark, fur-like bundle. When she's close enough, Ezarah reaches out to feel the texture.
She darts back, blade and fangs drawn. A large black creature, something between a wolf, deer, and crow, bares it's teeth back at her and leaps off the pedestal. They circle each other, studying something they've never seen before. Ezarah notices something of intelligence in it's silvery grey eyes, like it's calculating. Although it's smaller than her she can tell by the size of it's jaws and the ripple of it's muscles at each step that it's a very powerful creature.
One that she could use to her advantage.
Ezarah slid her blade back into it's sheath. Looking the beast into it's eyes, she gently bowed, resting her arm on her knee. "My aim is not to bring violence, beasts of darkness, but to become enlightened of where I stand. I am new to your world and would only ask of your protection, in regard in aiding they who lies before me." She lowers her head and averts her eyes, trying to gain trust.
There is a long moment of silence. A low rumble of thunder could be heard above, signalling the beginning of a storm. The sky and the fog grew darker, making the area even more sinister and mysterious than before. Ezarah could feel that the night would bring her death if she didn't find a source of heat or shelter. And already a creature she could that could call her prey stood crouch before her, watching her with glowing silver eyes like sister moons.
Just as Ezarah began to stand up, ready to fight for her life in this strange world, the beasts opened it's maw and said, in a gravelling yet puissant voice,
"Young princess of Noveire, Land of the Dael Patharus, Home to the Vampires of Shakaros, Ezarah Graves-Hartman, daughter of Yava Lerea Graves and Norshe Hartman, ruler of many..." The beast lowered it's head and growled. "I, the Last Vlanderwicket of Maarsimar, am at your service, fated to serve you until my death, for if you shall cease to exist I pledge to end my own life." The beast stood up and sat on it's haunces, gazing up at Ezarah. "You prevail in the land of Preisance, a world that lies between world and conscious thay varies between those who look upon it. Time nor death exists for you but for I it does, my Lord."
She nodded. "Then serve me well, creature of darkness, for I shall call you Dagenmore, the Dark Beasts of Ezarah, for I know of what you are; your world shapes piece of my soul into things, and you are the form of the dark power that rests in my heart. I am wary of you but trust is on the horizon, my servant."
Ezarah then went to the other pedestals and gathered their items, which amounted to seven, including Dagenmore. He followed her back to the tree, where they studied what she'd gathered: a pearl necklace laced with gold intricately woven between each jewel, a tattered grey cloak, a black scroll written in a language unknown to them both, an enormous golden double-hammer with a large crack in the helm, a strange musical device that only played one note not matter which way you blew on it, a beautifully designed case that wasn't to be open, and a large metal staff that had Ezarah's name written in cursive next to the crimson jewel that was placed on top of it.
She spread the objects before her while her servant watch with keen eyes. After a brief moment of deep thought she came to a conclusion, aware of how hard it was getting to see.
"Each...each of these items before me are meant to be protrayed as pieces of my soul, which I know you are very away of, Mighty Dagenmore. The beast growled almost inaudibly, eyes on his master.
"This cloak represents my love, tattered and fulls of holes one many have fallen into only to be broken."
"This beautiful necklace...it reminds me of time my father tried to marry me of to a man known as the Jewel of Noveire, but..." Ezarah crushed the necklace with little force, causing it to go up in flames. Ashes were left in the palm of her hand. "But he was weak, and a coward, left my father to die, so I burned his soul, sent him to the deepest bowels of Hell, where all cowards are meant to burn. This is my justice."
She held up the black scroll, watching as when it began to rain the scroll disappeared into black mist that crackled with dark lightning. "This is my heart, which disappears when I need to do what is right for all."
"This case. This case holds the best of me that I have yet to discover, this I know. I can only unlock it when the time comes."
"This double hammer, large as my body, holds the weight of my power, which is immense although I don't always feel is so."
"This strange device that knows only one tune is my stubborness, broken because of my heart."
Ezarah stood and watch as the objects slowly disappeared into the snow. Now it was night and darkness hid everything there was, but Dagenmore's eyes shown a light on the vampire. She stood up and moved away from the tree, holding up the metal staff.
Using her will, Ezarah caused the staff to hum, vibrating with power. She aimed at the tree, figuring that it was the source of the existence of Preisance, the world they were in.
"And this is my WILL."
The tree exploded with blinding light, illuminating the area. Ezarah could hear her beast howl, not from pain but terror, being a creature of pure darkness. She gently shut her eyes, feeling the power emmiting from her body. When she open them again, when the light died down a little, she saw that the tree had changed; black sap was bleeding from pores in it's bark. She felt the world tremble around her, lightning strike, glows in the darkness that shrouded the land.
She felt something touch her and looked down to she Dagenmore, the glow in his eyes flickering. "All things must come to an end, and this I fear of the one which we are present. You must leave now." She noticed him tremble slightly.
Ezarah lowered her staff and nodded. "And how must I do this? Are you to come with me, servant?
Then she began to notice that he was beginning to disappear into the darkness. She stood back, wondering what would happen next in this strange world.
Suddenly the wind began to pick up, but it was strange; it seemed to have a voice, the sound a pattern known as language. It chanted, in an airy breath,
"We know who we are,
We know we will conquer,
But to do this,
We shall find our fist.
Our hearts will be found,
Our light will have shine,
And in the wake of the night,
We shall fight our fight.
For we are our heroes,
For we are our kings,
The world cannot be saved,
Without the will that we bring."
And the world disappeared.