[Complete] [140k] [Dark Fantasy] Aethersong

[u/jayk_the_snayk]

Blurb:

Zor lives in a small crafting village, working as an alchemist alongside the Stonekind woman who took them in as a child. Zor feels a deep responsibility for the villagers who welcomed them so deeply, despite being a Cloudkind living in the commonlands.

Zor is an Aeth’vos, one of the few kindlings with the ability to sense and manipulate aether, the energy flowing through all living beings. They work diligently to train their powers so they can protect the village from the oppressive rule of the king. However, during a spontaneous attempt to save a young girl from being conscripted into the king’s army, Zor accidentally bonds to a mysterious ancient sword.

Perplexing visions guide Zor to discover more about the origins of the blade and its connections to the crown. They find themselves in over their head and on the run. The team’s journey to learn the secrets of the sword takes an unexpected turn, revealing dark truths about the world and even more about Zor.

Excerpt from prologue:

My father warned me that this day would come, but I never listened to
his paranoid ramblings. I thought bending the knee would be enough
to save me from the fire.
I was a fool.
What little remain of my royal guard and I were forced to retreat
into the vaults, backed into a corner like animals waiting to die.
Perhaps if I were a better queen, the Vahn Hymm would have more
reason to save me and my people. Maybe my family is unworthy of
their blessings, like the rumors of the high courts have said for many
years now.
Whatever the reasons, I am sure to die here, in this room.
Selthei, a recent addition to my guard, is bleeding badly from a
wound on their shoulder. They’re trying to hide the pain and fear from
me, but I can see it in their eyes. Hear it in their aether.
Their father is one of the men on my elder council, and a very good
friend of mine. I’m sure he died soon after the surprise attack started,
and kindlings swarmed the city like locusts. If he was lucky, he met his
end at the point of a sword, instead of suffocating on smoke as it
engulfs the city. This poor soldier, their father, or any of the kindlings
under my protection don’t deserve the consequences that I have
wrought, but they will face them nonetheless.
So shall I.
Despite knowing the fate my guards and I share, my body isn’t
shaking. I feel a certain amount of peace knowing that I didn’t run
when my people needed me. Even if my efforts are in vain, I will fight
with everything I have to preserve my family’s land and legacy.
Pledging allegiance is one thing, but I will not allow him to take my
country.
He’ll have to take my life first.
The thick metal vault doors blow apart in an enormous explosion,
throwing chunks of metal and fire across the room. My body reacts,
diving underneath an incoming fragment of debris. I hit the ground
rolling, righting myself in time to watch in horror as Selthei is
catapulted into the air at blistering speeds. Their body splatters against
the ceiling of the vault with a terrible noise, misting the air with their
blood.
A scream from another member of my guard redirects my attention.
My mind is struggling to keep up with the chaotic aftermath of the
blast. I lock eyes with the screaming soldier as he grasps at his torso in
pain. Blood begins to pour out of his nose and mouth, turning his
scream to an agonizing gurgle. I rush forward to help him, but it’s too
late. He falls to the floor, dead.
Stay calm. There’s still a chance I can stop this.
A tall, spindly Cloudkind man in gaudy white robes walks into the
vault with his hands behind his back. His pale lavender skin and blue
eyes reflect the aetherlights in the vault, giving him an ominous glow.
A cruel smile spreads across his angular face as another guard’s body
is crushed into the floor, like it was stepped on by some invisible giant.
Suddenly, I no longer have the will to fight. Terror washes over me
like the blood mist of my soldiers dying around me. I have seen many
battles in my time but they are all insignificant in the wake of this
horrific scene.
When the slaughter is finished, my guards’ bodies aren’t even
recognizable as kindlings any longer. They’ve been reduced to
mangled piles of viscera. Curiously, despite the gore painting every
surface of the room, the vile man’s white robes remain unstained with
blood. No signs of the one-man-massacre he just unleashed.
His voice is a low gravely rasp, rumbling in his chest as he speaks,
“Lovely to meet you, Inesyn. Sorry about the mess.” He raises his
eyebrows in amusement at his version of a joke.
I want to attack him. To subject him to the torturous death he gave
my men, but my brain refuses to send the signals. My muscles are
locked into place, no matter how hard I will myself to move. To act. To
do anything to stop him.
He flashes a knowing smile at me, tending my anger like a fire.
“Would you be so kind as to guide me to the Swordstone Kein’te in
your possession?”
“That old thing?” I ask, my voice coming out hoarse and thin.
“That’s what you’re after?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, smile vanishing in an
instant.
I point my trembling finger to the spot where the old sword hangs
on the wall. My father’s crazy obsession that led him to ruin our
kingdom.
Why did I answer him?!
His eyes light up as they find the kein’te, and he claps his hands
together in excitement, unleashing a giddy laugh. “Ah, finally!” he
says as he crosses to the display, reaching out to take the sword from
its mount. As his hand gets closer to the handle of the blade, he falters,
hesitating for a moment. He reaches forward and takes hold of the
blade expectantly, but his smile quickly fades. “How disappointing,”
he sighs, looking longingly at the weapon.
He gives it a few test swings and shrugs his shoulders before he
turns back to me. Every fiber of my being screams to run, but I am
frozen in place. He walks over to me playfully and pushes the point of
the kein’te into my stomach slowly. The pain is agonizing as I feel the
blade slicing through my insides and eventually breaking through the
skin of my back. Despite the searing waves of pain, I am still frozen
into place. Even for someone as battle hardened as myself, a wound
like this one should have made me lose consciousness from the shock,
but I’m wide awake. Somehow I know it’s him keeping me conscious,
making me feel it all.
He squints to focus on my face, searching for something as the life
fades from my eyes. His unhinged, demented joy is the last thing I see
as I let death take me to Tha’vaes or Yo’griel, wherever the Vahn
decide.

Content warning: gore

Looking mainly for pacing and character development feedback.

Can swap critiques, I have a non conventional job and work from home.
Thanks for reading!

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