The Blacksmith

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-zLx5JVMVE OP. I wrote this after watching a short Unity trailer that captivated me and blew me away.

Legend has it, that he was a man, once, A Blacksmith... A long time ago. An average man, with an average family. An unimpressive apprentice, to an unimpressive smith. That was until the war. The Great war of mages, warlocks, warriors and mystical beasts, demons and even monsters. They say he was pleased at first, A war meant more work, more food and a better life for him and his family. And things were good, For a time....

He honed his skill, surpassed his master and soon he was a ROYAL Smith. But fate demands balance, and as good as things appear to be one minute, the next minute can be just as hellish. Gone in an instance was his manor, along with his family, and even the great castle of his sovereignty was but a pile of rubble and ash. It wasn't a grand scale battle that done it, it wasn't even a skirmish... It was a colossal boulder, thrown by a fatally injured giant that accidentally hit a mountain top. The boulder ricocheted and the mountain crumbled and where there had moments before been a town... There was now nothing.

Something inside the smith broke, forever that day, and he joined the battle with reckless gusto. He sought power and so he turned to magic. He started by imbuing items and using them on lesser demons and soon, none could survive his fiery halberds and lightning lances... Then he learnt the art of transmutation and Harpies and manticores fell at his feet as the trees, the rocks and the very ground became spikes, swords and axes. He became known as the Reaper. None could match him and none could or would stand against him. From Elemental weaponry of a godlike level to casting thunder as wide as a castle spire, his power could not be rivalled nor his blood lust satiated.

But he tipped the scale a little too far. It has long been said that power corrupts and The smith gladly gave in to that corruption. Blood Magic, The darkest and most taboo of powers...

He absorbed himself into it and every time he paid the price. The more powerful the spell cast, the more of his own life blood was demanded but now not even Dragons, Hydras or even GIANTS could survive his rampage. He slew all without mercy and the very skies themselves were tinted red after his massacres. But it still wasn't enough for him. He now ventured into a realm of darkness that had never before been imagined, let alone tried... Soul Magic. A magic capable of wiping entire cities out of existence... But at the most dire of prices, a drop of your soul, gone like the city into darkness, into nothingness.

The smith doesn't exist no more. Nor does any memory of the greatest and most horrifying of wars. No one remembers the beasts and the evil that almost pushed humanity and their kin into extinction. Nor does anyone mention the God that stood at the highest peak on the planet and simply wiped the beasts and the evil and half of humanity itself out of existence... with merely a gesture from his hand. That terrifying power that no had no cost attached, because he had nothing to pay it with.

There are still whispers though... In a land far to the South, a land that sometimes rains fire and snows meteorites, where the mad cackles and suffering wails of torment are heard as pieces from a former life and fragments of some long gone civilisation, haunt and torture him. It is whispered that in this place alone, you can find weapons forged in the fires of hell itself, capable of cleaving continents and tearing open the very skies, But beware, because there is something else here too. Not man, not monster, not demon nor god, not feeling nor knowing. Just a driving force that is compelled to forge and smith, without thought, feeling, fear, love nor empathy, It simply is. Very few venture there now and No One has ever returned from the South.

Will you Be the first??

Author's Note

I hope you enjoy it