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The Ruined King (AlphaZero x Nightingale)

Nightingale

Super-Earth
Joined
Mar 9, 2011
Location
|.Limbo.|
Solid soles of leather boots gripped the broken stone beneath her feet as she hoisted herself over the fallen pillars. The large precipice laid strewn across the cracked earth. The are was desolate, void of forest life. It was it's own little piece of hell locked away in the dense forests. She'd come quite a ways to find the giant masterpiece that ranged out before her. The main walls still stood, tall and towering, but the out lying structures were nothing but broken rock and ash at this points. Long dark red tresses were pulled unto a thick plait braid that reached down the length of her back, swaying heavily with each heaved motion of her body as she climbed her way to that entrance hidden beyond the towering rubble.

Grey eyes, dark like the coming storm, finally found that passage way. She leapt from the precipice and landed a few feet before it. Her sword clanked at her hip as she proceeded forth. Pushing dead curtains of vines out of her way and wisping away the cobwebs that clung to every nook and cranny, draping down like billowing, sweeping curtains. Gauntlet covered hands stayed slightly outstretched before her, body tensed should she come across any underling creature dwelling in the dark depths of the once powerful castle. Her slender, pale frame was housed in a pair of black leather pants, laced down the hips with thin rope, exposing little peeks of flesh.

An armored braiser adorned her torso, exposing small bits of her sides and back, but protecting the immediate organs that would result an imminate death should she be struck down. It did not take her long to stumble upon the large circular room. It rose several stories, it's windows cracked and broken. The stone floor uneven beneath her feet as she emerged into the throne room. The light from the outside shining in, in ribbons of dull grey and yellow. No true light reached this place and it finally felt like she'd found it.

That place she'd been searching for, for quite some time. Was this the resting place of the one she sought?
 
How long had he slumbered for, how long since the people had risen up against up him and smashed his castle walls. How long since the holy men had come here, chanting their infernal chants to their insufferable gods, shutting him out from the world beyond his walls and shattering his kingdom.

A tingle of something, a dull sense of someone within the castle walls.

Deep within the heart of the great castle he slouched in great obsidian throne from which he had ruled for centuries. The chair itself seemed to be carved from a singe massive piece of obsidian and carved with images of great beasts.

His head rose slowly, eyes with slitted iris and pupal red as blood, staring out from behind a tangled main of long white hair. He could hear the footsteps within his chamber. His tongue slipped out over his dry, cracked lips before his spoke, his voice coming in a dry, harsh rasp, "Who dares violate my sanctuary?"
 
That dry, rasp of a voice sent a chill down her spine. Those words echoing through the empty chamber. She took cautioned steps. The soles of her boots crushing rotted earth beneath her. A gauntlet hand moved to rest upon the hilt of her blade. She'd made many a error, trying to find this place and had stumbled upon many who fell to her blade. There were always rumors, and pesky beggars eager to misguide your every step. Those pale eyes scanned the area until they fell upon the darkened silhouette of a man sitting upon the throne. She redirected her steps to bring herself in a bee-line. Moving into his view, but remaining a far enough distance, that should he wish to hard her she could thoroughly defend herself.

"I am Deica, the Demon of Blackwater. I come in search of the Fallen King."

Her voice was brisk, refreshing to the ears, but it carried a tone one could not simply place. A tone that should one bear the ability to hear the voices of the ancients, would recognize as an undeniable power. Her voice was a weapon, one many often could not see.

She was uncertain of how to truly respond. Waiting, waiting to see if this was truly the man she sought after. Taking a few steps forward she wished suddenly, for the ability to control the light, for the dim - dingy chamber, did her little good in trying to view this man.
 
His laugh was as dry as his voice and it echoed through the chamber.

Even in the dim light of the chamber he could make out the form of the woman standing before him, a form that was not at all unpleasing to look at.

One elbow rested on the craved figure head of the thrones armrest, his chin propped up on a balled fist, a slight grin playing across his lips, "Tell me then Demon of Blackwater. What has brought you to seek out that which man wished to wipe from the annals of history. What madness ceased you and drove you in search of a mad tyrant who'm united the known world under his iron fist."

He laughed, though not with the same vigor as before, "Did they wish to see the darkness finally undone, and you where the one unlucky enough to have been chosen?"

He gave a dismissive wave, "If that's your final goal, then be gone, I have no interest in taking your life."
 
That dry laugh riddled her ears, but those cautious, pale eyes remained focused. Drinking him in through the darkness that shrouded him. His words sank in and she stifled a small laugh. The corner of her lips turned up in a smirk, how childish. She removed her hand from the hilt of her blade and withdrew from her pocket a light stone. Tossing it to the floor, the round white stone bounced and clicked against the cobbled ground before it emitted a brilliant light. Illuminating the sanctuary of his throne room and allowing her to see him more clearly without needing to hone in on her special abilities.

"I am not here, due to a unlucky slight of hand.. nor am I here to finish what the old ones started.. I am here to undo it. "

She took a few steps forth, the soft clink of her blade at her hip announcing her movements, less than cautiously. The solid soles of her boots crushing weak stones beneath her steps. Long crimson braid swayed behind her as she moved to stand a mere three feet from his resting place.

" I am here to help bring you to your former glory, to have you rise from the ashes and ruble of this ruined place and take back the throne at the head of this rotten, spoilt world. "

Her words were harsh, filled with cruel judgment for the state of the warring kingdoms.

"This pitiful war, this shameful excuse for tyranny must be brought to an end, and the only one I could think fit for the job ... is you."
 
The bright flash of light illuminated the chamber for the first time in centuries.

The man upon the throne was far from what one would expect from a man who had done nothing but sit upon a seat of craved ebony. He wore a robe of red velvet embroided with gold which hung open, revealing a lean and well toned body. His hair, jet back, and hanging mid way down the back of his neck and a lean narrow face with a well kept beard as black as his hair.

"The world made it clear that they where more interested in their so called freedom then the piece and prosperity they knew under my rule. Leave them to their destruction. "
 
Quietly she took a few paces forward, finally coming up along his side. She showed no fear, no sense of worry as she approached. Her pace brisk and her strides filled with an aggressive purpose. A gauntlet clad hand gripped at the thick, muscular forearm he provided and as her digits curled, the pads digging in, she yanked with force. Plucking him from that throne seat and jerking him to his feet.

"You, are not some sniveling, whining, childish, pathetic little beasts... you are a man of greatness... "

Her voice was a tone higher than before, still harsh, but fluid like any womans.

"I will not stand idly by and watch you whither into nothing. It's a waste! "

She growled. Expecting, of course, for him to lash back at her. To Reprimand her for such careless behavior. She did not care, she had come here on a mission and refused to watch herself fail.
 
Red eyes narrowed at the woman, his hand grabbing hers in a grip like a vice, tightening as he pulled her hand away from his arm, forcing her to her knees before him, "I am Erik Grit. For centuries the world was united under MY rule." he groweled as his grip on her gauntleted hand tightened, the sound of metal crunching under his grip echoing through the empty chamber.

"Should I wish I could break every bone in your body, violate you upon the floor and throw what was left from the tower window. But such a display of force would serve no purpose beyond my gratification."

He released her hand turning sharply on his heels, his robe swirling behind him from the force of the movement before returning to his seat.

"My time of greatness has passed, ending like all great things do."
 
"You could attempt such vile things upon my person, but you would fail."

She quipped in that sour tone, it oozed with an unseen venom, that spoke of secrets which lied beneath the flesh. There was more to her than could be seen if need be, she would show him the force he was reckoning with.

Those eyes of storm cloud swirled, etched with flecks of gold and blood.

"So you wish to remain here? Pathetic and weak? A whining sniveling child in comparison to the greatness that you once held? A greatness you could behold once more?"

She laughed, the sound dry and wicked.

"You are weak.. and here, I thought perhaps there was still a fire in you the yearned for more than this grave of ruin and ash."
 
"I have had everything there is to have. The very world itself was mine. Even before I sat atop the throne to govern all I had already lived for centuries. I have seen kingdoms rise and fall. What more do I need to proove to the world of men.

His lips pulled back over flawlessly white teeth in a steer of contempt, "What is man? A miserable pile of secrets and lies."
 
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