Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land (37 page)

“They were crushed by our home.”

It was right before continuing with the
conversation when Leyoht fought back a small wave of tears. He
tried as best as he could to hold back a series of sobs when he
continued.

“I—I’m just so glad I made it here!” Much
more than glad, he allowed himself to release his emotions as
quietly as possible.

Taking notice of his emotional strain, Aphost
allowed him a moment on his own by removing herself from the
tree.

After what seemed like so many days of
undergoing neglect and misery, Leyoht was finally sheltered in
another family’s home. Such a notion made him feel as if a breeze
of luck had swept its way around him at the right time—right when
he felt as if he were destined to die at a young age.

Chapter XII

Yofel’s Plan

As the young owlet recovered from his
perilous battle against the ragged walls of nature, the emperor of
Mocrano found himself stuck in an era of frustration. Something
wasn’t right—he knew that for sure. Feeling uneasy, Yofel picked
himself up from his throne and made his way toward his home’s
exit.

Without even thinking twice about it, the
dark emperor floated out of his tower of a home—sprinting past his
many treasures all the while—and sped over to a spot at the
Mapharaux’s rear. There he stood, almost entirely covered in
shadow—when he peered down at the Mocranian secret before him.

It was in that spot where a trapdoor sat,
hidden by a small layer of dust and dirt. After opening the
trapdoor with a forced gust of wind, Yofel slowly floated down
below the Mapharaux’s floor.

Once he passed through the entrance, the
first and only thing the emperor could see was pitch darkness.
However, as if by telepathic command, a small, thin aura of
violet-red light showed up before his eyes.

A sense of Mocranian culture and history
filled Yofel’s head upon witnessing the aura of red. Red and
purple—all at once—showed just what Mocrano was capable of.
Witnessing as this glow tainted everything within its grasp, Yofel
walked over to it and placed a gloved hand on top of its origin: an
enormous stone box.

Upon placing a hand on the box’s hat, Yofel
resisted the urge to shiver. Even for a Mocranian, this box was
freezing cold. Yofel could only imagine what would happen if an
Earthling touched it.

The temperature, however, would quickly rise
when the large, heavy lid slowly tipped its way open. The
light—which was earlier slipping through the box’s crack—now glowed
even brighter than before.

As the lid came to a complete stop in its
opening, light illuminated the entire room. Dusty cobwebs, ancient
treasures, and a pool of black-and-red liquid appeared before his
eyes. “Shanol eurioap cias sen efasnd Bearneomal!” he commanded
into the pool.

Upon uttering these ancient words, the ground
went through a small rumble. At the same time, a storm seemed to
brew within the pool. Within heartbeats, the liquid began to create
what looked like a small whirlpool—the likes of which only grew on
top of itself with time.

Once a full whirlpool had formed, the liquid
began to pile up on top of itself—creating what seemed to be a new
creature. Liquid slowly turned to solid as the essence of black and
red scrunched up in the middle of the pool.

Yofel watched as a lizard-like creature
gradually formed within the strange, black liquid. This process of
layering and covering continued until an enormous, reptilian
creature drained the pool of its last drop of liquid.

As the lizard-like creature’s liquid material
began to harden, a slightly interesting thought entered Yofel’s
mind. Looking much like his grandson, this liquid’s shape gave the
impression of being a hybrid of a lizard and a griffin.

In a sense, the only parts of this liquid
creature’s organization which
didn’t
give hold griffin
resemblance was the creature’s skin—which was covered in scales.
Added to this was how there was no beak to be seen, there weren’t
any wings, and this creature was overall slightly smaller than the
average griffin. At the same time, a rather terrifying,
horn-infested head bestowed itself upon the creature’s reptilian
neck.

Once the liquid came to an almost completely
solid state, the creature in which it formed released a small grunt
of confusion and optimism. Liquid and solid at the same time, this
creature was a vicious, yet loyal carmahn. However,
this
particular carmahn was truly the most powerful creature Mocrano had
to offer to his opponents.

Bearing the name Bearneomal, this reptilian
creature gave a slightly hideous—yet terrifying look. A series of
many sharp teeth and a total of two tongues added up into a rather
large maw. Bearneomal’s reptilian form made Yofel feel as if he had
made the right decision to use this carmahn for his own personal
gain. While the creature resembled a dragon in some ways, he had no
wings, no scales, and was slightly slimmer than most dragons.

Almost exactly as he had done when summoning
the carmahn, Yofel began to speak in words only known between he
and the carmahns. The name of this strange language was Easnrl: the
basic language all carmahns used in their daily lives. While only
being used by carmahns, Easnrl was also impossible to be uttered by
the words of those with only one tongue.

The only reason why Yofel knew how to speak
Easnrl was a complete mystery to carmahns around Mocrano. It was
because of the carmahns’ use of the language which drove Yofel to
disapprove of ordinary Mocranians knowing about carmahnian
existence.

Speaking through this special language, Yofel
commanded Bearneomal to deliver Leyoht directly to Mocrano—so he
would be used as a slave. Yofel wanted Leyoht to suffer for his
past deeds—even if it meant bringing down Mocrano as he knew
it.

While he understood his leader’s commandment,
the carmahn couldn’t help but feel confused. Nevertheless, he
agreed to follow through with his master’s plan. The carmahn let
out a grunt; a grunt not of displeasure, but one of obedience to
his master.

“Ios mesasn,” Bearneomal replied with a bow
of his head. It was after uttering these words when he swept his
way through the rim of the room’s door. He did so by temporarily
transforming his body into a stream of black liquid, slipping his
way out of the room, and reshaping himself into his lizard-like
state upon entering the outside Mocranian essence.

With the help of his flexible body,
Bearneomal snuck his way past the eyes of any possible passerby
Mocranians. In order to hide himself, he slipped himself into the
shadows and looked for a way to his destination.

It hadn’t taken long, for Bearneomal to catch
sight of a series of pillars connecting Mocrano’s floor to its
ceiling. The carmahn’s eyes locked onto said pillars as he whisked
his way toward the tube-like rocks.

Once he’d made his way up to one of the
pillars, Bearneomal dug his nails into the stone and climbed the
tower. Such was a process which required him to spin around the
pillar while also moving in an upwards motion.

It hadn’t taken long for Bearneomal to find
himself face-to-face with Mocrano’s ceiling—and not a single
Mocranian spotted him! His nose almost hitting the ceiling, he
increased his body’s viscosity and made an attempt to squeeze his
liquid body through the barrier’s flaws.

The carmahn never enjoyed going through tight
squeezes. Depending on the depth of the ceiling, such journeys
could have taken him an entire day to complete. In addition to
depth, the moisture within the ground also played a role in how
fast a carmahn could pass through the ground.

Fortunately for Bearneomal, this particular
journey wouldn’t be anything to fret about. Barely any time had
come to pass when he found himself in the midst of a blanket of
frozen crystals.

After slipping through the ground, Bearneomal
sat before a new challenge to overcome. Before freezing to death,
he would have to turn into a solid and break through the snow
preventing his escape from Mocrano.

Upon reshaping himself into a solid form,
Bearneomal used whatever strength he had to plow the snow out of
his way. Letting out a roar, he found himself free at last,
surprised to feel a cool breeze brushing against his smooth skin.
Such a feeling caused his slender body to shiver.

Feeling this breeze creep over his skin, he
decided to listen to the buzzing in the back of his head. Such a
buzz was used as a tool for tracking down whomever Yofel demanded.
With every closing step he took, the buzz would only grow
stronger.

However, this sensation wasn’t without its
side-effects. Carmahns’ buzzing wouldn’t be able to stop unless
their target was eliminated. Such buzzing would take full effect—at
all times—until their target was eliminated. The internal noise
would continue even when the carmahns were thinking, sleeping, and
fighting—and it was a force even Bearneomal could not ignore.

Running toward where he believed Leyoht was,
Bearneomal began to set out a plan to bring the snowy owl to
Mocrano.
How should I do this?
he asked himself.

--

Weariness enveloped Pesstian’s mind as he
waited for the sun to emerge from behind the purple night sky. For
reasons unbeknownst to the little owl, the sun refused to hide—as
if it was too shy to meet his gaze.

It’s almost time for me to go to sleep! Why
won’t the sun show up? I can’t be this tired right now! Maybe I
should ask how Leyai’s feeling.

These thoughts echoed within Pesstian’s head
as he lifted his wings into the air. A haze of misty, cold air
surrounded him upon starting himself on the search for his friend.
Aerosol blew in his face as he wondered if Leyai was feeling as
tired as he was. Was it childish to have been so tired at that
time—before the sun had even shown its face?

Not too long after starting his flight, the
sight of Leyai’s shivering body within Pesstian’s eye.

Leyai stood on top of a pole, shaking, while
carrying a fur coat on her shoulders. Such a pole rested near the
peak of a snowy cliff—the likes of which watched down on the
humans’ colony.

Taking notice of his friend, he cautiously
flew down by her side and asked while still hovering, “What’s going
on?”

“I’m c-cold,” Leyai responded, a somewhat
haughty tone sprouting from her voice. “Aren’t you?”

“I guess,” Pesstian yawned. “But I’m more
tired than I am cold.”

“Good; so it’s not just me.”

A sigh of relief passed through Pesstian’s
beak as those words funneled into his ears. His relief only grew
when Leyai asked with a snort, “Why won’t the sun show up
already?”

“Maybe the cold places don’t see the sun a
whole lot,” her friend explained while stretching his wings. “If
that’s true, then I’m going to find someplace to sleep for the
day.”

“How about right here?” Leyai suggested, “I’m
pretty sure that if you get a fur coat, we’ll be able to stay in
this spot for the day.”

A small spark of confusion filled Pesstian’s
head as these words vibrated in his ears.
Why does Leyai want me
to sit next to her for a whole night? The last time she let me do
this was because I couldn’t find anywhere to stay on the human’s
device.

Deciding to hold his tongue, Pesstian threw
his mind off the topic when he asked, “Where do I find them?”

“Just look in the central den,” Leyai
explained whilst shifting in her coat.

“Where’ll I find one of those?” Pesstian
wondered, sauntering over to the cliff’s edge.

“If you look in the human nests, you’ll
probably find one.”

It was after turning around in his tracks
when he skeptically asked, “Human nests? What’re you even talking
about?”

“Are you blind or something?” Leyai teased,
growing more playful than frustrated. “It’s at the edge of this
cliff. Where’ve you been all night?”

“Well—uh, all I’ve done is fly through the
forest. That’s basically all I’ve done today,” Pesstian admitted,
his gaze pointing in the forest’s direction. “I haven’t paid any
attention to the humans
at all
.”

Leyai stifled a small gout of laughter at the
hearing of these words.
He must really be stuck in his own
world,
she thought with a giggle.

Hesitantly pulling herself out of her own
thoughts, responded to her friend’s ignorance: “The humans have
made a bunch of nests on the other side of this cliff. One of them
has the coats in them.”

Feeling foolish, released a sigh and looked
toward the edge of the cliff while allowing an updraft to flow
beneath his wings. Astonishment crawled into the young owl’s mind
upon taking sight of these nests.

The homes appeared hollow—as if they were
hollow trees—but these seemed much more advanced than any owl home
Pesstian had ever seen. Orange lights stretched through the
hollow’s openings and flaws. Every last one of them looked as if
they were made from light-brown logs.
Where’d they get
those?
Pesstian pondered.

“You should go down there,” Leyai
acknowledged. It was as if she was pushing Pesstian with her
voice.

“You really think so?” Pesstian remarked.
Barely even waiting for a response, he continued, “Okay.”

With this one word, he allowed his feet to
leave the cliff’s edge. Upon doing so, he attempted to flap his
wings—but the sight in front of him stopped him from doing so.

Taking sight of this collection of homes,
Pesstian fell as the lights from within the nests glistened against
his eyes. They were even more majestic up close! Flurries of wind
continued brushing up against his ears as the young owl fell
further and further from the enormous cliff’s edge.

This dumbfounded feeling suddenly went away;
that was when Pesstian shook his head and spread his wings out by
his sides. His falling speed now at a great decrease, it didn’t
take long for him to find himself gliding—no less
parachuting—toward the humans’ nests.