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Rise of the Godking - Chapter 171




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Chapter 171 - Choice

Hearing his name being called, Moridin looked up from the patch of earth he had been staring at, lost within his mind, lost in a place whose knowledge slipped away from him even as his senses returned, pushing him to get to his feet to turn around and respond to the human nearby.

If it was anyone else, they would have had to ask the person to find out what had been said, but elves were simply different. Their minds followed different patterns, had different ways in which they processed information, and one of the skills that every elf learned at a very young age involved being able to go through anything seen or heard or smelled in the last few minutes even if they had not been conscious to pay attention when the sensations had been interpreted by their senses. It was a cache, of sorts, that was automatically erased and refilled at a certain time that was unique to every elf, so after accessing it, Moridin was able to stand up and say, "Of course, please lead me to him."

The woman smiled gratefully, nodding her head and bowing with respect before turning around and making her way through the rubble of the eastern part of Graiton. He had come here to render his help to any victims who might not have been able to be extracted from where they were trapped, but after that, there was a blank in his waking memory that made him frown as soon as he came upon it.

Schooling his face to appear neutral, he pondered on this and many of the other lapses of concentration he had been subjected to in the past hour or so. It might seem like a normal thing to any human who had been through a traumatizing incident, but once again, elves were simply different. They were taught that the mind was always the most important aspect of oneself, even more than the body, so keeping a close eye on the swirling eddies of their naturally gifted psyche was a skill that was honed since even before birth, in a way.

The moans of someone who had accepted that the Lord of Death was on the way startled him out of his reverie. Looking up from his musings, he squinted at a hand that was barely visible within the ruin of a mansion that must once have stood taller than most of the others around it.

His eyes narrowing, he wondered why those with power in the town hadn't come here already to extract a person who was clearly trapped, and still had life that could be sheltered instead of being snuffed away in the wind of destruction brought on by the Garbonors. A moment later, Moridin got his answer, and it made him fold his hands with unease as he surveyed the devastation that was the reason behind the decision of the rescuers.

A corner of a balustrade had somehow tilted and fallen to precisely cut the man and half. It was a miracle that he was still alive, but even with his skill in healing, it was impossible to save someone from such a grievous wound.

Everyone who had come upon the scene had decided that there were other worthy causes in which they could put their time to better use. All those causes had been pursued, following which only exertion had been left to the Graitonians, and hence, he was only one present at the site.

Sobs escaped the woman every time one of the moans were heard in the mansion. Her clothes had been rich, once, but they were torn almost beyond recognition now. She kept glancing at him with hope that was close to disappearing as it had been stamped down by all those that must have already have stated that her husband could not be saved, but with a sigh and the sight of her imploring eyes lingering in his mind, he bent to touch the man's hand and closed his eyes.

Angled walls and boulders blocked the rest of his body, and it was best to remove them only after seeing whether he could do anything. Sadly, the diagnosis of the others who had come before him had been right: the man was going to die, and nothing Moridin could do could change that.

His lips tightened into a thin line as soon as he got this thought. He found himself wishing that he was on the Mainland where he could call on power much greater than what he was capable of now, or that he had spent more time training his strength in sorcery instead of expanding his mind. He knew this to be a false hope even as it came to him. His mentor had always said that one without the other could lead to great harm, but still, those wise words did nothing to distract him from his frustration.

He remembered being mocked for these very feelings. He remembered a brother of his teasing him, calling him a cry baby as he had had the habit of wailing whenever any of the animals he sought to save died in his arms. He recalled being given the title of a Patron of lost causes, and even though a century had passed since then, it was still accurate, and it was also the reason behind him being here, right now.

Standing, he hardened his heart and spoke in a tone that was trying to be warm, but failing miserably as no amount of warmth in the world could take away an ounce of the misery it was going to cause.

"I'm sorry. He has already taken one step into Barrowmaker's domain. All he has in front of him are a few more hours of suffering. He cannot be roused to spend his last hours with you, either, because his consc-, I mean, his mind has collapsed due to the pain. If you wish… I can ease his passage."

The woman completely broke down, falling on her knees in the dust and rubble of her home. Moridin waited in silence for a decision, and when she gave it after a couple of minutes, he nodded and closed his eyes.

He used a simple spell to knock out the man, then another that stopped him from drawing breath. It was one of the most painless ways he knew to end a creature's life, and when he felt the body stop moving in his senses, he gritted his teeth and began to walk away.


The women's wails hounded him as he made his way back to where he had been sitting before. He resumed the same position, but no matter how much he tried, he could not enter the state of calm that he resorted to in times like these.

Standing up, he decided to take a walk around the town. He kept thinking about the oddities he had been subjected to in the last hour, and soon, it was easy to identify that they had begun after his trip into his friend's mind.

He wondered whether something had happened then, but he found himself dismissing the notion immediately as there was no way that the man he had traveled with could be powerful enough to mess with his consciousness in a way that he, or his defenses couldn't even detect. He began thinking of any other alternative that would explain what was going on, and without realizing it, he soon stood in the paved clearing in the middle of Graiton once more.

He wondered why his feet had brought him here. After a brief moment of introspection, he saw that his unconscious mind had made the decision, and as an elf, he knew that such hints should not be ignored.

With narrowed eyes, he searched his surroundings even though he didn't even know what he should be looking for. A minute later, he was about to turn away with an unhappy twist to his mouth, but right before he did so, he saw a flash of something in the air that made him freeze.

The mental cache of an elf was capable of holding onto images deemed important by the unconscious mind long after new sensations wiped away what it contained. This was supposed to be a last avenue of defense, the last, desperate attempt to defy an attack on one's consciousness.

Moridin saw two things in that image. One: he saw himself assume the strongest form he was capable of- the form of a giant that could crush hundreds beneath its feet with little effort. And two…he found himself going up against an even larger being that didn't even flinch at his power.

He just stood there for a long time, processing what he had seen as waves of realization crashed onto him. What had happened was now clear as day: his memory had been manipulated, and his first instinct was to fly and run from here before Dan found out that he knew the truth.

He even rose into the air, ready to do just that, but a single question stopped him, making him flop to the ground and bend his head in thought. If Dan was a terrifying being capable of so much, why had he not used the opportunity to alter his mind in ways that were much more nefarious? Why hadn't he instilled complete obedience, as was definitely possible to one of power in the situation he had been in? He was certain that all that had changed was his memory of what had happened, so did that mean that all that Dan wanted was for his secret to remain concealed?

Feeling a gaze on him, he looked up and saw the one behind it all nearby. Dan smiled and nodded a beat later as he met Moridin's eyes, and although the elf returned the gesture, what he had seen in that brief moment was unmistakable.

Regret and sorrow had warred within those eyes, and their depth made complicated feelings arise from somewhere deep within Moridin. The voice that had insisted that he accompany the man spoke up again, and although his sense of duty fought with it for some time, it stood supreme as could be expected from one of the Forn who were said to be both blessed and cursed by their strong sense of instinct.

Dan was dangerously powerful in the aspect of his mind. But his intentions were pure.

Only time would tell whether they clashed with his own, and when the time came, would he regret this decision?

Moridin found that he did not care. A bond had been forged, and it compelled him now. Tales whispered on the Mainland spoke of such bonds between humans and elves that either led to great disaster or crowning glory, but those tales also spoke of destiny, and this was a concept Moridin despised for reasons he held close to his heart.

At the end of the day, one of the Forn would always trust themselves. And all of Moridin was certain that this journey was important, and that he should continue to be a part of it.

A free smile came to his lips, the first to grace his face since he had stepped on Graiton. With a flourish to his steps, he walked forward to find the next person he could help. On the way, a song came to mind, and as he hummed it, his smile grew broader as he recalled its name.

It was called 'On this lonely road, what I would not give for a friend to warm my heart, and my hearth.'

Thus ends the first volume of the 'Rise of The Godking': Arrival.

And the next volume is named....'Conquest'.



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