It was just like that, the start of a plague that would bring civilization's near utopia crumbling to ruin. There would be no violent horror waiting in the wings to bring chaos about— no fire, no flood, no oblivion— just darkness slowly curling its wicked tendrils around the light in the universe. And then, at the bidding of its master, it would snuff out hope entirely. Blackness would consume a world once painted bright in the colors of its untapped potential. Yet the slightest fray in the tapestry, the smallest ripple on the water, unknowingly possessed such ability to bend the universe, and Chaos meant to shape this new universe in his image, catalysing a new universe subservient to the god and his all-consuming power.
This was the motive that led the forces of darkness to the town of Lujein one eerily quiet evening— the kind of quiet that allows dread to sink to the depths of the soul and take root there. Two cloaked figures trudged through the soundlessness of the city, sticking to its shadows despite the fact that not a soul was about as it passed the midnight hour. Sweeping layers of gray swayed at their sides like smoke billowing around their bodies— an ominous warning to any unfortunate enough to hinder them from their mission. The crown of their hoods came to a tapered point, masking all but the lower halves of their faces and making their features virtually indecipherable under the night sky.
The two walked with a purpose, their destination now just before them. The Lujein mines. Of all the cities in the realm of Noscarra, Lujein was known for its high output of moonstones, the most productive of them all, though this was to be expected. After all, the city was home to the moon goddess' shrine, and the moonstones were a gift to the Noscarrans from the goddess herself. Those who possessed a moonstone would no longer age, but that eternal youth came at a steep price. Many would save for years, yet still would never be able to afford the treasure that held the ill effects of age at bay. When a person was finally bound to their moonstone, they would never age again, forever as pretty as a picture.
The pair slowed as they neared the entrance to the mines, holding back a few paces as the taller of the two shot out his hand to stop the other from moving further. "I sense a guard lurking out front. We need to deal with him first," he told his companion in a low warning tone.
"Consider him handled," the second nodded softly, his voice softer and higher than the first's. After a moment's pause, he crept forward slowly, chin lifted and eyes focused on the guard, who was now leaning against the interior of the main archway.
Beyond the door he guarded was a bright shimmering spherical object called an Aulund. This device was what allowed the miners and handlers access to the depths of the Lujein mines and the highly secure storehouse where newly collected moonstones were held. Containing vast amounts of magical energy, the Aulund transported the bodies of those who touched it between the concrete physical and abstract metaphysical world. It allowed, though only for that brief moment, the ability to occupy the same zone as the ephemeral gods they worshipped as they descended through the ground, breaking the logical laws of nature. Despite its power, the device only worked for those with clearance to enter the mines, thereby protecting the precious moonstone supply from thieves and other unwelcome vagabonds. Even further below the dig sites themselves, at the lowest level of the mine, was a massive high security safe which housed an equally immense collection of moonstones, and very few people in the town were deemed worthy of access.
But neither of the cloaked figures felt swayed from their duty by this knowledge, nor did they fear failure, as it was a foreign concept to them both. It would have been a needless emotion as well. They needn't worry themselves which such trivial matters. For, really, what chance did magic worthy of mortals stand against that of a God?
The young man stalked forward, his hand draped lightly over the hilt of his iron-forged sword. The blade was made of silken black shards, all jagged and menacing as he pulled it from its sheath. He took little time making his approach, gently dropping his hand to the guard's shoulder to wake the sleeping man. A slight smile of amusement rose to the cloaked man's lips as the guard's eyes shot open, growing wide with surprise. That expression was soon replaced by one of terror, his shoulders hunching forward and a grimace befalling his face.
Such a look was exactly what his attacker expected, grinning darkly as a sudden cough brought forth a smattering of blood from the guard's lips, trailing down to his chin. "A favor from me to you," the young man murmured with a smirk, yanking free his blade, which had just moments prior been buried to the hilt in the guard's stomach. "Now you can rest forever."
He was given no more in return that a faint gurgling as the guard's back slumped against the wall, his hands grasping for anything that might steady him. He seemed to curl in on himself as he hit the ground, groaning in pain. The attacker's blade, made of celestial fragments, held a very potent charm, one that in only a matter of moments would drag a person's soul to the the very gates of Death's abhorred realm. The young man knelt at the guard's side as he began to convulse, splotches of black starting to ink the dying man's skin as if a curse upon his body. He watched in satisfaction as the tremors slowed to complete stillness, then slid the guard's eyelids closed before rising again.
As he shook a few flecks of blood away from his weapon, the man's companion once again joined him, surveying his disciple's work. "You never fail to impress me, E," he mused before shoving the door wide open with little regard for the guard's lifeless body at his feet. The Aulund sat before the pair, as if waiting expectantly for their arrival with its eerie golden gleam. The young man quickly followed his mentor as the older man approached the orb, surveying it with a disinterested click of his tongue. "Child's play," he muttered, shaking his head as he cupped the top of the Aulund. The light began to flicker rapidly. The ground itself was even trembling as the room grew cold, then suddenly was plunged into darkness. A sharp crack sounded and magic flowed around the two, wrapping them in a fine coat of gold. For a moment, their bodies seemed to warp— parts vanishing then reappearing— before they disappeared altogether.
When their feet once again met solid ground, they were met by the smothering smell of damp earth. They were now far beneath the city in a cavern only lit by small radiant magic stones, which had been hastily attached to the surrounding walls in lanterns. Their footsteps were muffled by the softness of the ground as they marched along the path. At the end, the vault awaited them, protected by various wards and spells used by the priests and priestess of the moon goddess. But at the rate his power was growing, the master could, though with much difficulty, shatter protection cast by even the goddess herself. This place promised the future that they both seeked, one where Darkness reigned.
A fire seemed to flicker behind the elder's eyes as the secure room finally came into sight. "Finally, we can sever milady Moon's influence," he said with a low chuckle, his fingers tracing over the supposedly impenetrable metal the Lujeini had used to craft it.
He shifted back his hood to reveal his eyes, then moved his palm to lay flat against the center of the vault door. His gaze flickering to narrowed slits as his irises shifted to a shade of crimson as red as the blood of his enemies— a color vibrant with the anger and unpredictability of the man himself. Before his eyes, the formerly solid door cracked, glass-like pieces falling to the floor with a symphony of soft plinks. He stepped boldly into the room, barely having to even bat an eye to dispel the priest's spells. "How charming," he drawled venomously, his companion approaching the stock of moonstones scatter in wide array on the table before them. "Will you do the honors— for your God?" His gaze shot toward a small brown bag tied at E's hip, urging the young man on with his commanding behavior.
"It would be my pleasure." E gave a curt bow of his head as he continued, "The people of this world will tremble at your name." He added the final part in a breathy whisper, "My king, my liege. God of chaos and destruction, Shahamri."
Shahamri's face split into an even wider grin, one that could curdle the blood of those who looked upon it. "I don't care what fate befalls such a pitiful species. All I desire is for the Lady of the Moon to grovel at my feet, begging me for mercy." He let out a bitter scoff, waving his hand over at the moonstones. "Now, E... I want to be rid of this place."
At Shah's insistence, E unfastened the pouch from his belt and stared down at the small milky white stones. There was such a stark contrast between the moonstones and the ebony fragments that he poured from his pouch into his hand. They were much smaller than those from his blade, but as object of the same substance, they would do the job all the same. After crushing them in his hand, to a coarse texture like that of a grainy sand, E scattered the pieces amongst the moonstones. In response, the pure stones took to the dark shards, their appearance taking on a hazy look.
"And now the true fun begins," E murmured, gazing at the corrupted stones. Even a goddess' gift could be made a bane to the people. With a swift flick of his cloak and an tight-lipped grin at Shah, both E and his godly companion took their leave, their mission a success. The stones would only be the beginning. Only just now had their plan truly been set into motion. There would be much more and much worse to come. The world, if the bringer of Chaos was to succeed in his goals, would bow, groveling and sniveling at his feet.