To start off, I'd like to say that this is my first time ever writing a story. English isn't my main language (I'm Dutch), so please don't be too harsh on my choice of words, unless it of course is completely wrong. Also, my English vocabulary isn't that huge, so I don't think you should expect really difficult words in this story. Of course, comment and criticize.
Eternal Eclipse
Prologue:
“And now, now it’s your time to make a choice. A choice which only a mortal could make.”
With that said, she disappeared, back into the dark Mists where the people who finally passed away lug in the peace and emptiness of their lonely, lost souls. The feeling of emptiness is something every mortal holds dear. Some call it heaven, some speak of peace and rest, others simply call it the Mists, while every heart waits patiently until it’s time has come, to feel rest, peace, the everlasting emptiness of a lost soul.
Except for those, who aren’t worthy enough to be cleared of all thoughts, will be tortured by all of their sins. Wrapped into the stickiness of a Tortureweb Spider, where every resistance is no more than a futile attempt of breaking the unbreakable, you will remain a lost, tortured soul, doomed into torment until the forgotten soul of Grenth will be freed from his chains.
But he wasn’t completely forgotten…
He’s not more than a myth, they say. A myth, where Grenth breaks from his boundaries, enraged, angry, and most important of all, out for revenge. Grenth, the God of darkness, pain, torment and the creator of the Mists. Once this place was used to pester those who had not obeyed to Grenth. He unleashed a cloud of darkness onto the world, the people, the light, the Eternal Eclipse.
When on a day a lonely hero, Pyre, also known as Pyre Fierceshot throughout the entire world, was born, who had the courage to resist against the madness this God spread across the fields of Nolasca. He was a mere mortal, you would think. A mortal, fighting against a God. A choice, only a mortal could make. He had no fears, that’s what made him strong. Or weak. Weak, because he would do anything which could take his life in a moment. But he was strong. Enraged in adrenaline he was the most fierce enemy you could ever face. He had brains, too. He knew everything he had to know. How he did this, nobody knows. He knew it.
With that knowledge, it was a mere matter of time before the great Evil would fall. Grenth was blind. Blinded by his immense power, his feeling of immortality, a feeling that nobody across the entire universe could do anything to him. And this was his death. No, not his death, a God knows not about his own death. Torment. Tormenting the God who has tantalized so many mortals in his years of might. He could not escape. Years he was going to be pained in his chains, which only a mortal, who also made his own choice, could break.
A true hero was Fierceshot indeed. His soul will forever find peace and pleasure in the Hall of Heroes, until his soul, his courage, his knowledge is needed.
Some already refer to him as the “God of Courage and Knowledge”. People pray to him, some even bring offers, still every mortal believes he is worthy as a God. Yet, nobody believes the myth of Eternal Eclipse has really occurred. Is it fear? Or do they hope denying Grenths existence, will make him not-existing? Nothing matters what people think. A God is and remains a God, tormented and tortured ‘till despair, Grenth is still Grenth. And Grenth remains a God, an immortal God. A God with a pestered soul, with an entire world to launch revenge at.
A myth, or a supplanted reality? The world will soon know… However, not before it’s too late to stop it. He got caught once, he will never wish to feel such torment again. He’ll do whatever it takes, to get free from the chains which he grew to hate so much, and stay free.
