The Raving Flail - Prologue
The Raving Flail
Prologue:
There it lay, inside the sleek glass structure looking much like a coffin to the eyes of my sister. But it was not dead, nor alive- an undead, pulsing weapon, the elders say, that had conjured up the most annihilating of powers. Centuries ago, it was used by the patron of the village to banish the recurring evil that had once dominated the lands.
All was well, until the weapon could stand it no longer. It had banished its own share of souls, and needed one measly soul, just one, to extend the nature of its powers. The weapon had made no mistake until then, but, according to the interpretation of the historians, the greed of its owner had influenced it to such an extent that it decided to use the soul of its very owner to quench its thirst for power.
The weapon, supposedly a highly dangerous Class Ⅰ weapon, a flail, took over the spirit of its owner and rampaged the village, killing seven individuals and injuring as many families. At long last, the village elders managed to suppress the weapon by a mysterious means of communication with an old adversary of theirs, who shut it inside The Marmorial Glaze Ridge, the very ‘box’ made out of dark, marbled ice it lies inside to this day, in this village-turned-city..
Sounds like a classic, good-turned-evil story, doesn’t it? It may seem like good entertainment to whoever’s reading this from parallel universes, but only we, the citizens of this unfortunate place, know the burden of such a task; protecting a possessed weapon. I was never one to get so closely involved in this- so closely that you could say the weapon and I are the centre of it all. Yet, as my sibling often says: if you are given the responsibility, then take it without reluctance. I still wonder how a quote like this was deciphered in the most wrong way possible, which had me end up here in the first place.
And you will soon come to understand about the so-called, ‘here’...
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-STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER-1
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