Chapter One

The sun was just setting and the sky turned a beautiful orange color, but Morrow found no beauty in it. The world had lost its glamour, in his eyes it was all just a show put on by those above to make them want to be in this hell. It didn't work, Morrow could easily see through their vices. A depressing gloom lay over the grassy fields as Morrow walked through them. Everything lay out before him was bleak and dark, full of misery, but that was nothing new. Ralek was a cruel god; he controlled everything and took away people's will to live. With his magic, he split Tenrashé like an egg and changed it, making it his own. He was invincible, indestructible, no one could hurt him; those who tried were quickly exterminated with little more than a wave of Ralek's hand. Nowadays, you rarely heard about someone trying to play hero, everyone just kept their heads down and paid close attention to the rules in place. The most anyone did was pray silently for solace and escape. Their prayers went unanswered.

            The grass, though green, looked ashy grey in the fog that covered almost everything. The fog never went away truly, not even in the sunlight; it was just another touch Ralek had added to make sure that no one was every truly happy, that depression was the emotion that reigned supreme in his people’s hearts. The sun could still shine through, just enough to bring heat, but it wasn't enough to light up the world the way it used to. Morrow had no idea what Tenrashé used to look like, but he was sure that it wasn't this madness. He had read countless books by authors who had been alive then, and all of them spoke of vibrant colors and sunny skies, not the devastation he had grown up in.

            With the past on mind, Morrow made his way through the fields and across a small river that ran through his backyard, and went inside. His home was enormous, consisting of almost four stories and countless exterior buildings. The second he entered the door, he set his eyes on the guards that blocked his path. They didn't wear any armor because humans couldn't forge any that would fit them. The demons took the form of whatever they had recently devoured, making them misshapen and horrifying to look at. The ones before him clutched large obsidian weapons in their hands, or whatever resembled hands. These demons were what Morrow's father considered to be the best. Their strange bodies could make anyone's skin crawl. They came out every night, preying on those who weren't in their homes, otherwise they stayed inside here. They were another creation of Morrow's father, used to keep people under control. They had deep purple eyes, razor sharp teeth and, though their shapes were always different, their skin always stayed the same: a scaly black color that glistened like glass. The demons could be found all over the world, travelling in shadows and keeping order in the world, under orders from their creator.

            After the demon gave him a once over, it allowed him to step inside. Morrow made his way down the long hallway and up a few flights of stairs. His room was on the third floor, set aside from almost everything else. The interior was as complex as his thoughts, filled with chaos that seemed to coincide with itself. The wall was a swirling mass of black and blue, painted to look like a storm. With ceiling was an array of reds, oranges, pinks and yellows, made to resemble a sunset peaking out in the eye of the storm. The colors calmed him and let him forget his life, a hell that he had learned to survive in. Morrow was a lonely soul, he had no friends, no acquaintances, and no one to love him; that was the way of a Longlasting, or so he had been led to believe. You're born under the power of an Everlasting, a god, like Morrow's father, and you are meant to serve them until they release you from their command, but his father would never do that; the idea of having permanent control over someone was too entrancing for him to pass up. Power was everything to him. 

            Morrow jumped onto his large bed, his curly black hair bouncing around his face, and pulled the shades closed behind him, leaving him in utter darkness. Nyctophile is the word often used to describe him and his love for darkness. People often confused the love of darkness with corruption and hate, with violence and death; that is not it at all. Darkness was calming, a place to relax and unwind, a place to leave yourself behind and enter a new world. It was his place, a place he often visited in hopes of abandoning the horrors of his life.

             A sharp knock on the door quickly drew Morrow out of his head, pulling him back into reality. Anger flared inside him, clouding his thoughts and actions. Ripping the curtains aside, he jumped out of bed and threw the door open. A small girl stood before him, her skin was a glassy black and her eyes a bright purple; a demon. "Come," its voice seemed to echo with the voices of others, though its high tone came out above them all. "Your father demands your presence," though it sounded like a girl, Morrow knew better than to classify them in a gender role, they didn't have one. Following the demon, he went up the last flight of stairs in the large castle-like house and entered his father’s “study." 

            The room was a large rocky cavern that smelt of moss and decay. The walls were saturated in water, causing crystalline structures to grow on the ground when the mineral water dripped. The only source of light in the room emanated from a ring of candles placed on the stone floor, casting an array of queer shadows on the walls of the cave. "Where have you been, insolent child?" a deep voice asked. 

            Turning to face the skinny man sitting in the room, Morrow shot him a sarcastic smile, "Out and about, exploring the yard, doing as I please." 

            The sardonic tone he used brought a frown to his father's slim face and rage flashed in his violet eyes. "Defiance is unbecoming of you, child," his words were short and clipped. "I do not have time for your insolence; you will do as I have instructed you and find it."

            "It" was an abstract term, but Morrow had no trouble understanding the meaning. The thing his father required was nearly impossible to find; yet, he had found dozens of them during his time on Tenrashé, which was astounding. All the power his father possessed came from the thing he desired most, and with each one he found, his lust grew. "Have your demons fetch it for you, I am no slave," he said calmly, craving the excitement of the fight that he knew was inevitable.

            His father turned towards him, his face a bright red. Reaching his hand out to the side, a purple glow emanated from it and, within seconds, a large obsidian blade appeared in his palm, the black surface deeply contrasted by his pale skin. "That is where you are wrong, child, you are a slave to me. I created you,"  his voice was as cold as the ice that coated the surface of his blade. The ice was common with carnation, the physics of this world found it hard to deal with the sudden appearance of matter; however, with his father being a god, an Everlasting, the world had no choice but to obey.

            Morrow sneered and incarnated his own weapons, two scimitars; average sized blades curved inward, made of a shining silver with ivory handles, engraved with his initials. "I've been aching for a fight, old man," he growled, his words were full of malice and hatred; though this man brought him into this world, he didn't have any love for him in his cold, black heart.

              Ralek flew at Morrow without a moment’s hesitation, bringing his black blade down on his head with the intention of killing him. Throwing up his scimitars just in time, he parried the blow. The force of his father’s attack brought him to his knees and he grunted in pain. I will not lose to you, not today... Breaking away from him, he jumped to his feet and fell into a defensive stance, not ready to act just yet.

The room seemed to darken around him, his father's unnatural connection to the darkness allowed him to draw from the shadows around him and pool them in certain areas, hiding him from view. It took Morrow a few seconds to adjust to the new lighting, but that was all Ralek needed. His large sword sliced through Morrow's stomach, cutting it open. Morrow had had just enough time to move backwards a step, preventing the sword from sheering him in to, but the cut was still bad. Cursing to himself, he took a few steps back and, using his own power, threw the shadows away from his father so he could see him once again. Being of his father's blood, he had similar abilities to him; they were significantly weaker, but he also had a few unique to his own person. Closing his eyes for just a brief moment, he called on the darkness and summoned a ball of energy from its depths. He locked his cold blue gaze with his father's unnatural violet one and shot him a taunting smile. "Oops, look what I made," he smirked as he threw the sparking mass of dark energy at his father's chest. It sunk deep into his skin and threw him against the back wall, knocking his weapon out of his hand. "Looks like I finally got the best of you!" he laughed and leveled his scimitars with his father's neck. Shock blazed in his eyes and a frown plastered on his lips.

The look on Ralek's face hardened and, just for a few seconds, showed amusement; and then a sudden burst of pain erupted from Morrow's chest. Falling to his knees once more, he tried to pull in a breath but found he couldn't. Ralek pulled himself off the wall and stood over Morrow, a smile now playing on his lips. A black dagger was clutched in his right hand, dripping with Morrow's blood. "You stupid boy, you'll never be better than me," his voice was deep and full of malice. Pulling his arm back quickly, he slapped Morrow across the face. Blood spurted out of his mouth and his head hit the stone ground beneath him, stunning him. Spitting on the ground next to Morrow, Ralek left his study, leaving his son in a puddle of his own blood.

Groaning in pain, Morrow turned over onto his side and took in a deep breath. He was used to seeing his own blood, but the quantity present was lethal and he knew he was in trouble. Mustering up all his strength, he pushed himself up off the ground and shakily got to his feet. "Amelia!" he yelled raggedly. The air blurred momentarily before a young, snowy-haired girl appeared before him. She studied him with her stormy grey eyes for a few seconds before launching into action, conjuring up a chair for him to sit on and pulling out a needle and some thread. Sticking the needle into his side, she didn’t give him time to prepare before she was sowing away at his skin, knitting it back together. “Ow! Geez, Amel, calm down!”

“Well now, young master, I wouldn’t even have to be doing this if you’d stop picking fights with Master Ralek; you just can’t beat him. He is a god, after all.” Her words stung more than Morrow cared to admit and he kept his mouth shut, suffering through the pain in silence. It only took her a few minutes to complete his side, and then she focused on his second wound, the one on his stomach; that one was far less severe. Clutching his head, Morrow leaned back and moaned, the amount of blood he had lost was making his head throb and his vision go blurry. “Sit still,” her voice was chipper and light, and she let out a laugh. Leaning in close to his ear she whispered, "Cya," and sat back as Morrow's skin knit itself back together, the skin soon showing no signs of the struggle that had just occurred. "Blessed be my mother, at least she knew how to do something right, being an Everlasting and all!" 

Sitting back, Morrow studied his unblemished skin and let out a sigh, the ghost of the pain he had just felt still haunting him, "That was too f*****g close." Carefully lifting himself off the chair, he left the chamber, leaving his pool of blood there as a reminder, and made his way back to his room. Amelia followed close behind him, each one of her steps causing her to bounce. One would think that her constant stream of positive energy would eventually run out, but she never seemed to falter. Once again returning to his room, he shrugged off the urge to collapse on his bed and fall asleep; his father was having a dinner party tonight and it was his "duty" to be there. So, being mindful of his father's wishes this time, he got ordered Amelia to draw him a bath so he could wash off the blood that still stained his skin and clothing, regardless of the wounds being healed. 

Waiting patiently, Morrow watched as the bath filled with water, steaming as it touched the cold ceramic of his lion-footed tub. After it was brimming with water, he eased himself inside; watching in amusement as its clear body quickly turned a mucky copper color from his blood. It wasn't until he closed his eyes that he realized just how tired he truly was. Slipping into unconsciousness, he drifted into a dreamless sleep full of hatred and shadows.

  

Reviews

[TheMalady]

The story interested me, especially with the plot and the characters. I am curious of how Morrow was treated by his father before they ensued into a fight. I might be asking for specification however, I wanted to know what exactly happened or maybe you'll show that as the chapters progress.

I've also noted some sentences which might have been typed in hurry. They are:

1. THE prayers went unanswered, unheard.

2. With the past on mind, Morrow made his way through the fields and across a small river that ran through THE/HIS backyard, and went inside.

3. THEY had deep purple eyes, razor sharp teeth and their bodies could look like anything they wanted at the moment, but their skin always stayed the same: a scaly black color that glistened like glass.

4. After the demon gave him (a once over) and stepped aside, Morrow made his way down the long hallway and up a few flights of stairs.

5. You're born under the power of an Everlasting, a god, like Morrow's father, and you are meant to serve them until THEY release you from their command, but his father would never do that; the idea of having permanent control over someone was too entrancing for him to pass up. Power was everything to him.

Overall, the ending of this chapter is suspenseful. :)

[Obscured by the Shadows]

Thank you c: I will make changes accordingly, I appreciate the review!

[TheMalady]

You're always welcome! :)