Tyrant of the Ruined Sun-Chapter 197: The Second Prophecy

For days without pause or respite, Nicholas has been plagued by the same recurring nightmare.

The one of serene, snow swept forests and crippling pain, then of foul smelling soil and the Devil’s Eye, followed by an unprecedented war and a paralyzing roar, all of which a prelude to a saintly sword and a rose of bladed shadow, heralding the arrival of a dozen more mythical beasts and instruments, radiating the power of true Gods, before the coming of the second tyrannical roar and the apocalyptic shattering of the sun, all of which funnelling his depressing, torturous visions into the same culminating crescendo, crowned with the splintered shards of that once righteous sword.

So great was his displeasure and horror whenever he awoke from his sleep as of late, that he began to grow a palpable distaste for the once mundane and relaxing activity, even beginning to slightly dread it, something his loving family obviously caught up on very quick, as they encouraged him nightly to intake a plethora of herbal, mind calming broths and medicines.

Efforts that were truly heart warming for the young northern prince, but were ultimately proven to be in vain, as nothing could properly exorcise away the haunting apparitions, that were quickly beginning to echo the chilling sound of funerary bells even in his waking mind; warning him of unimaginable events that no sane eyes could ever accept. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

But surprisingly enough, and despite all that misery he’s been subjected to for the past handful of nights, it seemed that he finally had gotten rid of his curse, as he amazedly found sleep to be a welcome guest this evening, who peacefully arrived with a lulling grace, and unarmed with it’s usual thorns and teeth that dug deep with an acidic bite into the flesh behind his eyes.

Perhaps it was exhaustion from days of rumination, or simply built up fatigue after many a harrowing nights, or maybe even some toxic mixture of both; whichever the case may be, he didn’t care right now, as he fully revelled in the previously unappreciated blessing of a long overdue night of true respite.

Yet to his dismay, like most things in life, it too proved to be unworthy of his trust, as the jeering grins of the Gods then reared their ugly heads, as he once again found himself, just as he surrendered his consciousness upon the precipice of slumber, in that same, desolate, damned, frozen landscape.

And before he could even lament the vicissitudes of his own accursed fate, that same searing pain of frozen stars etching themselves upon his very eyeballs, returned with a vexing vengeance, as though taunting him to dare again hurl vulgarities at their unrecognized efforts, while they once again ripped his sight from him with a particularly venomous sting this time.

Yet when he again regained his vision, he did not see the expected snow capped mountain tops and blood tainted dirt, but instead found himself suspended high up in the air, gazing down upon a familiar continent.

One that had been drilled and etched into every the fibre of his brain by his imperial tutors, older sisters and father in equal measure; for the ability to accurately pinpoint, remember and discern the geographical, or political landscapes of the entire complex continent, was considered the most basic of skills required by the future emperor of the gigantic northern power to possess.

Yet all that meant little for Nicholas at the moment, as he was utterly mesmerised by the sight before him, regardless of how many times he’d read about this same stretch of land, or how many times he’d seen it in the master drawn maps in his father’s office; for inked paper, no matter how expertly drawn or how cleverly described, could never measure up to seeing something first hand, especially when such a sight was as breath taking as this.

And as though wanting to make sure that this sight before him truly reflected the world he’d come to so intimately know across his nineteen years of existence, he began to more carefully survey the landscapes around him, and it take him long to once again ascertain that it was indeed the lands of Meathria he was currently beholding, as familiar landmarks quickly began to align with what he knew to be true.

To the north he spotted his ice ridden homeland, coddled yet constrained within the twin arms of the Stenna and Serra Mountain ranges from for three of the three cardinal directions, with only the untamed northern wastes remaining unobstructed before them.

While to the west he saw the vast Scintillating Sea, dyed by the rising sun in glinting gold in it’s depths, and a blinding bronze where the deep waters turned shallow and hugged the land, which was exactly where the renowned Chrysus Plains began, stretching out like a enormous golden carpet all the way to the marbled city of Solis Luxuria, that shined like a solitary, crowning diamond beneath the aureate blanket of the swelling dawn.

He also caught a glimpse of the prominent peninsula that held upon it’s back the western nations, along with the sole, narrow land bridge that both barred it from escaping the hold of the continent, and it’s inhabitants who always hungered for it’s conquest, and forever stitching it’s fate to that of the wider world.

Yet he cared not for that weak, far off and inconsequential land, shifting his eyes then to the south, until he saw the infamous arid dunes of the Scorching Dessert, where blistering days and frigid nights came to meet in a sadistic marriage that fed on the feeble, and tolerated only the strong.

A horrid sight and reminder of the thorned beauty of this world, that was only punctuated by the occasional oasis village hidden amongst the mounds of shifting sands, before finally reaching the blessed Vitar River, who’s crystalline waters brought life to this otherwise barren land, decorating the desert with a string shimmering settlements, like a necklace of polished pearls stretching across the entire width of the southern power.

Then to the east, he beheld the infamously unruly lands of the Yue Dynasty, with it’s rivers that were so wide, they seemed to have ambitions to be oceans, and mountains peaks so towering, they almost mimicked stretching giants, endlessly obsessing over touching the heavens.

And finally when he looked directly below him, he beheld the vast, viridescent lands of the Mesox Midlands, where several dozen independent nations were crammed into from all sides, and hemmed in by the Jurren de Yachi mountains to the east, the Stenna mountains to the west and northwest, with the only openings being to the south and to the northeast, where they Mesox Midlands met the Tal Plains north of the Yue Dynasty.

Such was the raw, heart stirring beauty of what lay before him, and for the first time ever, Nicholas thought it best, even wished, to remain in his dreams a little longer, so that he could further indulge in the enchanting view.

Yet his heartfelt wishes were not to be answered this day, as this paradisal view was not to last, since shortly after completing the survey of his surroundings, finally orienting himself upon the invisible pedestal he now stood upon, the ground seemed to let out a low, echoing grumble, as though suddenly straining beneath the wait of something yet unseen, but before he could wrap his mind around it, the earth’s displeasure exploded in a rumbling rage, and the once unblemished scenery before him, swiftly began to moult it’s camouflaging coat, reverting back into true form of a nauseating nightmare.

As he was suddenly catapulted from where he was, deep into the southern lands, even beyond the known maps of the world, and past the Hadrian Mountains, where he beheld an unknown land that bent like a curved dagger into the cerulean ocean.

His wonder at seeing this once undiscovered land was immense, yet he could not enjoy it for long, as a hair rising roar, one that made his heart palpitate like the erratic flapping of a fleeing bird, rose up from behind him, and though it was slightly different than the one he had come to know and fear, being less oppressive and mortal, he could still recognize it as the same tyrannical howl that has been haunting his dreams as of late.

And so when compelled by an almost morbid sense of curiosity, he beheld a dreadful, stygian mass of obsidian scales, hungering teeth and blood-drenched claws struggling to bypass th e Hadrian Mountains, yet when it slowly but eventually did, it was akin to the harbinger of anarchic mayhem, as it’s hook like claws eviscerated armies, and it’s abyssal maw that was lined with sword like teeth swallowed cities whole; all the while it’s mad filled eyes petrified patriarchs and peasants alike, underneath it’s infernal gaze.

Before it ultimately cleansed the land dry of all who inhabited it, with the exception of only it’s abominable spawn, that were birthed from the malice of it’s wicked deeds.

And all the while the beast fattened on the destruction and misery it wrought, so much so that the Hadrian Mountains that it once struggled to bypass, were now unworthy of a glance from the titanic behemoth, whose malevolent gaze now locked back upon the north, as it swivelled it’s gargantuan body around, and began the northward march at the head of a near endless horde of it’s cruel kin.

That was the last scene he witnessed in his dreamscape, before the beast again roared, in a pitch far more similar to the despotic ones he’d heard from his past dream, before the world again shattered like glass before his eyes, as he awoke from his slumber with a start and a cold sweat all across his heaving body.

And though scared, confused and riddled with anxiety, Nicholas was no fool, as evidenced by his widened pupils that reflected both panic and a growing understanding of his current situation.

He’d long since guessed that whatever these dreams of his are, they were not of the mundane world, but undoubtedly a result of divine intervention by the progenitor of his family, for he noticed that the God part of his blood would always hum a silent tune of repressed power whenever he awoke from such experiences.

And so, on still unsteady steps, Nicholas rose from his bed and rushed to his door, nearly stumbling along the way if he had not steadied himself on the nearby wall, as he was adamant to fulfil the task intrusted to him by his esteemed ancestor, which was undoubtedly to stop the coming calamity of the Ruinous Dragon of the Eclipse Empire.

Something that was all but proven to him by tonight’s clear message, as he had harboured suspicion since the first day he dreamt such visions, but it always ended right before he could see the face of the heinous proprietor, but now it was as clear as day to him who his foe realy is.