Chapter One - The Legend of Dahzt'ur

I walked those streets alone. True, they were crowded with people, running and screaming, panicking and crying, but yet I was alone. The fear in these people meant nothing to me – the frantic cries of people begging me for help were ignored. I was no miracle worker – the most important thing was for me to be safe, even though it cost thousands, possibly millions, of lives.

I stopped and took in the hell-hole of a city that I was walking through. There were hundreds people on the streets, running for their lives from a hidden foe. The buildings that hadn't already collapsed were falling as I watched, the glass shattering from the eerie whistle that had filled the air. The bricks were being blown from the buildings all around me – pieces of rubble coming to land on the packed streets, striking the life out of their victims.

As I looked around, I was forced to the ground by a wave of humans, frantically running towards the outskirts of the city. Enraged, I leapt to my feet and lashed out at them with my arm. The force knocked many to their feet. Those that remained on their feet started pointing at me and screaming, “Demon! Demon! It has come to our city!”

I didn't care that the humans I had once befriended were running away from me as if I was Dahzt'ur himself. They were foolish, ignorant, beings that didn't deserve pity or help. I still wonder to this day why I even bothered to give them warnings – they just ignored them and treated me as if I was a freak. I am not denying being a 'freak', as depending on your view of a 'normal' person, I was indeed different. But that does not matter – I was helping those fools, and they chose to ignore me. This was all their fault. Not mine, for not delivering the message, not me, for not forcing them to retaliate, but theirs, all theirs. They were too proud of themselves to heed the inevitable truths of the world, and their blissful ignorance led to this.

So, as these frightened beings were herded across the city by the Darkest One, I felt no pity for them. I only felt fear – fear for my well being. Many people, even those of my own kind, would consider that a selfish and thoughtless state to be in, but it was necessary. My survival meant halting the natural course of all things, so therefore I could not be defeated. The fate of this entire universe depended on my actions at that time.

So that is why I did it. That is the reason I took advantage of the chaos. That is why I wiped out one of the busiest cities on Earth. I do not know quite what brought me to do it – I knew at the time I had to do it, but I surprised myself when I actually did. I suppose that it was just the Vark'han instincts in me. To this day, I still do not know. I suppose a good way to investigate this act of pure evil would be to go back, to the beginning of my life as a Vark'han....

*

Imagine a world that looks like Earth, but only on the surface. It has the same amount of sea, the same volcanoes, the same mountains. But forests engulf the land. There are no cities, there's no electricity, there are no modern elements. However, the inhabitants of this particular planet are far from primitive. They have simply learnt to live on their planet with no technology.

The inhabitants of this certain place are pretty much the same as those of Earth, but much more powerful. The dominant species look the same as humans, but are able to conjure anything from flames to mountains with a simple flick of the hand. A few gifted beings were even able to contact the Other World – the existence between the plains where the demons and spirits roamed. The creatures in the Other World could communicate with these few, either aiding them with their tasks or seeking to destroy them. However, although a certain level of communication has been reached, only one being has ever been able to summon something from the Other World. That being went by the name Zarthul Vrainda'r.

Before I explain about Zarthul, I think it would help if I told you a little about this “Other World”. It, as I mentioned before, an area of existence between the seven plains. The creatures that roam here are those that have been abandoned by the worlds. They may have started off as humans, mice, dogs, anything that lives. However, abandoned by the world they were on, they slowly faded out of existence, out of the fabric of time and space. When this happens, the abandoned creature that no longer exists to the world finds itself in a realm where the non-existent exists.

The beings that are sent there, to the Other World, take various forms. If the being was a human, or the equivalent to a human on their plane, it will become a spirit. These spirits, however, are not simple ghosts of deceased people. They are beings of immense power, and beauty. They are not semi transparent ghouls that exist to frighten young children. These spirits take the form of a silvery mist most of the time, but when exposed to extreme emotions, they take forms depending on their own emotions. So, for instance, an angry spirit would be an image that is enough to scar a trained warrior for many years to come, but a spirit that has felt a harsh loss is able to break the hearts of the hardiest. The spirits are like the wardens of the Other World – they keep peace between the inhabitants.

On the other hand, there are also demons. These are the shells of forgotten animals, possessed by a part of the evil that is Dahzt'ur himself. The demons are the complete opposite of the spirits, they strive to wreak havoc. They are constantly waiting for a passageway to open to a plain, so that they can rush through and invade the corresponding plain. Luckily for the plains, there is a flaw in that plan. The Gifted, beings blessed with the power to communicate with the Other World are not able to open a passage strong enough for a demon or two to escape. This is why the demons talk to them.

During the communication process, a passageway opens. It is not enough to allow the demons access to the plain, nor enough to let the being that opened it to visit the Other World. It does, however, give the summoner and the demon or spirit access to each other's minds. This allows them to engage in a conversation, or to send simple or complex images to each other, depending on the skill of the Gifted.

The spirits often talk to the Gifted about philosophical ideas, using it to widen their knowledge of the thinking patterns of the Gifted, and vice versa. The demons, however, often start luring the Gifted into a false sense of security. They act like the spirits, pretend to understand whoever contacted them. They then invade their mind, semi-possessing them. The Gifted, once possessed, look like they normally do, but their behaviour alters, depending on how deep the demon's possession has penetrated.

A lesser demon would only be able to make the Gifted slightly more irritable, or occasionally make them use violence against somebody, which is forbidden amongst the Gifted, unless it is a matter of life or death. On the other hand, a greater demon would be able to completely alter the occupants actions. They may make the Gifted start a war, slaughter a family, or attempt to open a passageway powerful enough for the demon to become released.

Although many Gifted have been lost to possession, none have been powerful enough to open a passageway. Except Zarthul..

This 'Zarthul' person was born over a millennium ago, to a poor family living on this world. They were simple folk, that lands equivalent of farmers. At a young age, Zarthul and his family found that he was one of the Gifted – a person with the ability to contact the Other World. By the age of fifteen, the age most Gifted found their skills, Zarthul had already developed it so much that he was able to communicate with the creatures of high power in the Other World, a feat which many adult Gifted could not accomplish. It was obvious from that young age that Zarthul possessed an extraordinary talent. One day, however, he literally exploded with power.

Zarthul was halfway through a contact rite, the ritual used to communicate with the spirits and demons, involving various symbols of the planet that represented the desired contact. Zarthul had done this rite many times before – he knew how to do it, there was no problem there. He was just reciting from the Scriptures of Dahzt'ur, the part that released the power he had contained in him, in order to open a passageway to the Other World, when the passage opened early. This was a common thing to happen, if the Gifted stumbled slightly whilst speaking the Scriptures. The only thing is, Zarthul was sure that he had not made a mistake.

Thinking that he must have stumbled a bit, Zarthul continued reciting. This, however, was a mistake, as he soon found out.

He could feel his power growing immensely, as it always did before a communication. This, however, was different. He saw the passageway, which was a black, swirling door, whispering at him with all the different voices of the universe, expanding rapidly. The last thing Zarthul saw was the glint of metre-long claws, and he heard the heavy breathing of a beast of enormous power. At that very moment, the power was released from him. This always happened when a Gifted reached an old age – it simple left the host and floated around the world, an invisible wind seeking a host. However, as it left Zarthul, a second passageway to the Other World opened. The power leaving Zarthul combined with the presence of the communicating opened a passage inside Zarthul himself. His body was not compatible with the structure of the passage, and his very presence left with the power.

From above, it was a thing of pure beauty – a swirling mass of glistening black mist in the middle of a field, and in the centre of it, a blinding purple flash. The mist was the power itself, the flash Zarthul. As the power leaving him tore at his flesh, Zarthul screamed like no man had screamed before. It was a howl of pain, loss, helplessness.

Suddenly, the mist disappeared, taking the flash with it.

A few people that lived nearby saw the spectacle, and ran over to find Zarthul once the mist had cleared. They searched the field for hours, but there was no sign of Zarthul. As more people came to look, including Zarthul's family, a flurry of teeth and scythe-like claws rose from the ground, striking at the villagers.

If anybody had walked past later that day, all they would see would be the mutilated bodies of several people and a mass of scales – the exhausted body of a demon.

After the assault on the people, the demon slept for many days. It did not risk being hunted, for the people in the surrounding villages were afraid of slaughter if they ventured too close.

For over fifty years the demon continued to terrorize the villagers. It hunted down whoever came near it, even if they escaped the initial encounter. There is a famous tale about a villager that evaded the monster for ten years, until finally cornered and slaughtered.

The demon's hold on the area was only lifted when a spirit managed to break through. It had merely extracted Zarthul's power from the air and used it to create a passageway to the plain the demon was on. The spirit used the remaining power, not to kill the demon, but to bring it back to the Other World. The spirit did not kill the demon, as the killing of an Other World creature by another Other World creature is forbidden – it is just not done.

Sadly, as the spirit brought the demon back, the power the spirit had extracted proved to be too powerful for it to contain, and the saviour of that land was no more.



You must be wondering, “This is a strange world to imagine – demons, spirits, a separate existence – why waste my time imagining fantasies like this?”

Well, what if I told you that the tale I just told you was true? What would you think? Am I mad? I certainly don't believe so. This world I have just described to you, the Other World, the seven plains of existence, they all exist. They are as real as you are.

You are situated on a plain of existence, the seventh, to be exact. The story of Zarthul is set on the third, which also happens to be my homeland.

Each of the primary planets on each plain has a different name. I believe yours is called 'Earth'. My planet goes by the name 'Murkhazn'. You may be thinking, “There are no Gifted on Earth. People cannot communicate with another world. If there even was another world, scientists would have found it.” Again, I must explain. The Other World doesn't exist, if you think about it. It is a realm of all those that have been forgotten, wiped from the fabric of time. The non-existent existence exists, but far away from the reach of your scientists.

Also, there are Gifted on your planet. But, your ignorant society has had them removed from everybody else – you see your own possible saviours as mad. You lock them up and forget about them. As a result, many of the spirits in the Other World have originated from Earth.

Anyway, enough of your plain. I believe that this is a story of mine, where I lived. So, unless you understand the concept of communication rites, the Other World and the seven plains, I advise you put this down and never pick it up again.

For your own safety.