Although I had this finished for a while, I never got to post it earlier since I didn't get to make the page (loads of summer homework >.<). I decided to keep the chapters to blogs for now until I make the actual page (which may be in about a week or so). And yes, my new story is called Kingdom Come. (Duh. :P)

Something to Fear

The man staggered, feeling as if he would fall down any second. The excruciating pain in his right leg had clouded most of his thoughts. But he knew that it was nothing compared to the pain and agony he had to endure most of his life.

The memories flooded him. Memories of screams, sobs, the sounds of bones breaking, and maniacal laughter that he thought would have driven him to the brink of insanity. He thought about pausing his trek, tottering to the ground, and howling like a wounded animal, just to let it all out.

Yet he did not.

He could not let his inner demons win. Not this time. Not ever.

He forced himself to continue his traipse. The man knew he could not back down today. He had attempted to grasp a chance of escape and succeeded. Now he was walking, all alone, through a valley of darkness for hours. Or was it days? He did not know, nor did he care.

The moon shone its bright, ethereal light, with the stars twinkling amidst the inky black sky. The man wondered how such beauty could display itself over a very lonesome place.

At least it was far better than the hellhole of a fortress he was confined to for the first two decades of his life. His father kept an iron grip over his son, and tried so many times to fashion him into a cold-blooded, merciless creature, his "heir apparent". Yet all he managed to do was imprint the man with memories of anguish, sorrow, and hatred. Nowadays, all the man could think about was the horror he underwent, and a lust for vengeance.

He was still pondering at how he escaped the treacherous place his father called "home". It all happened so fast. He knew, however, that it was all because of the dark powers he had inherited from his brute of a father. The man downright loathed that wretched soul.

Then there were the times where he wished that he did not exist.

Why am I still alive? I am the spawn of a monster who forced himself upon a young, innocent woman, the man thought. No, he did not force himself upon my mother fell for his ploy, his charm, oblivious to the creature inside him. And she paid dearly for that.

He remembered his mother. She was a youthful beauty with long, flowing black hair, glittering green eyes, a lithe body, and an ample bosom. She had an innocent and pure face, and was a fiercely compassionate woman.

The man had not only inherited his mother's black hair and green eyes, but also a little of her sensitivity. It was something his own father found revolting, and vowed to remove. His father could not stand his mother's compassionate nature, and the gentle, loving way she treated their son. The father called her meek, pathetic, and weak-willed, and treated her as if she was no more than a slave.

The man recalled his father. He was an tall, imposing figure with a muscular physique that was usually hidden by a suit of sturdy black armor. Emblazoned on the breastplate was the sigil of a white dragon with a long, serpentine body. It was the mark of Naga, the man's father.

Naga had brooding, lilac eyes and a thin mouth that was almost always sneering. His skin was pale, giving him a rather inhumane appearance. A crown of flowing, long, platinum hair framed his narrow face. Any woman would have found his facial features hauntingly attractive, whether or not they were aware of the monster that lurked within.

The man shuddered at the memory of his father. Throughout all the years the man knew him, Naga's facial features remained unchanged. The man had known for a long time that given Naga's unchanging face and dark powers that his father was no mere mortal.

He had heard many stories of Naga through his father's attendants. One such story he heard when he was a boy was a rumor that his father was the supposed offspring of an ordinary woman and a god. When he asked his mother about it, Naga stormed in on the two, with an enraged look on his face. The man remembered that his father questioned him on who gave him that information. When he replied, Naga simply smiled, which was a rare spectacle, for he seldom smiled. Naga assured his son that everything would be all right. The next day, the servant had disappeared, and the other attendants seemed terrified to even mention his name.

The man shook his head, continuing his trek. He tried so hard to put these thoughts out of his head. Yet, they came back, as if they were part of a recurring nightmare.

"Why? Why won't you leave me alone!" he screamed. The man fell down to both knees, his hands pulling at his hair.

Die. He must die.

When those thoughts crossed the man's mind, he was horrified. Slowly, though, he realized with satisfaction that there was no other alternative.

Die. He has to die. What he did to others is no matter of mine. But what he did to Mother...

Although his father loathed his mother for her personality, Naga never attacked her. He screamed at her, threatened her, threatened the their son, but he never even hit her.

Then one day it all changed.

He was in his early teens, practicing his swordplay with another one of Naga's servants. As they clashed, the man, then a boy, suddenly heard shouts of arguing. He recognized them to be that of his parents and immediately ran to the source of the shouts. The shouts soon turned into piercing screams, and the boy suddenly heard the loud sound of a sword being pulled from its scabbard. He ran into a room and saw Naga holding his sword, posed to stab. The blade was already stained in crimson. There was something on the floor splayed in front of Naga. The boy's eyes traveled to the floor, and tears started to brim his eyes.

It was his mother, her white dress covered in blood. It gushed from a wound on her stomach that she was clutching with bloodstained hands. The floor around her had turned red.

The boy ran over to his mother, and knelt down. As he let loose choked sobs, his head wracked with guilt, his mother touched his cheek with a hand and tearfully whispered his name.


Tears rolled down his cheeks as he recalled that sorrowful day. His mother had decided to stand up to her deranged husband, something she had always done before,and she paid with the ultimate price.

Leonidas slowly wiped away the tears from his eyes, standing up. He was the whole world to his mother, as she was to him. The affection a mother had for her son resulted in the ultimate consequence.

My father - no, thought Leonidas. He's no father of mine. Monster and father do not have the same meaning.

The monster must die.

A jagged grin appeared on Leonidas's face. It was a satisfying end to a fiend like Naga.

An image of his grief-stricken mother flashed before him. Leonidas stared deliriously, knowing it was just a vision of his.

His mother frantically shook her head. Leonidas inclined his own and said "It is for you, Mother."

When he looked up, the image of his mother had changed. Tears of blood were now flowing down her face, and the wound that caused her demise was apparent against her white dress.

Leonidas gave a choked sob and crumpled to the ground. He was completely crying right now.

That's right, just let it all out, he thought miserably. It's alright, no one is watching. No one but the darkness. The darkness is emotionless.

What is darkness? It is a state of fear, of power, of death. Where there is fear, people cannot judge, cannot reason. They scramble frantically to hide themselves from a perceived threat, which arises from a seed of worry, the seed of doubt. That is the weakness of their conscious. Where there is power, there is corruption. Even the most noble of men can be degraded by power, seduced by the glory and profit it brings. Power acts as a succubus, causing beings to succumb to their inner desires from the blackest reaches of their hearts. And where is death, there is only sorrow and despair. All beginnings have an end, and death is that end. But death is also a tool of monsters who seek to destroy.

From all this erupts darkness. Where there is darkness, there is only chaos. Naga is darkness. But I can also be darkness.

Again Leonidas saw the vision of his melancholy mother, the bloody tears still visible.

No, he thought. I must put an end to this darkness. But with what army?

Leonidas slowly stood up again, thinking. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity of thought, he realized something.

My powers. Of course. I am the spawn of Naga, the most dreaded creature in this land. For millennium he has learned the arcane arts that feed his dark power, which grows stronger, he thought. And I am the latest inheritor of this power.

But I am not alone. If the rumors are true, that Naga really seduced others before my mother and forced them to bear him his children, then I have siblings of the same father. They are also the heirs to his power, correct? My half-siblings were cast out of his castle, were they not? Surely they must feel resentment for him, especially in a world where those associated with the name of Naga are loathed.

Leonidas's grin returned.

Yes, it all makes sense, he thought. I am the latest heir to Naga's power. I just need to search deeper for it, to prove my claim. Then I can find my siblings, and with whatever potential they have, combined with mine, we can crush the insolent fool known as Naga!

Finally. All of my angony, all of my sorrow, can at last be extinguished. My half-brothers and half-sisters and I will ascend upon "Father" when he least expects it. We will burn him in the fire of a thousand suns. We will savage him, when time could not. We will bring ruin upon him. Together, my siblings and I will crush the monster known as Naga, with I, Leonidas, inheritor of all of Naga's powers, leading them.

Finally, I will no longer have something to cower from. Now, it is Naga who will have something to fear.

Mother. I will avenge you.

Author's Note

Since I hadn't really written anything for more than a year until the above prologue, I would heavily appreciate some critique on this, since I'm going to try to make my stories have a darker tone to them. Big thanks.

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