Deathless Reign: Ch. 05

Deathless Reign

Chapter 5

By: Noobwriter96

*-*-*(Note to Literotica: Please consider as I typed in Italics and Bolds within the story this time and hoped to get the special formatting published when posted, Thank you.)

The women of the village did what could be done, they picked and repaired much as they can of their houses by cannibalizing the wooden parts from abandoned homes, of which there were many. Many were those that left the village when first news of the Undead Blight rearing its head towards their region. Now, all that was left were those who didn't have anywhere else to go.

They toiled in the fields in what can be seen as a hopeless endeavor, the soil blackened as if burned by dragon's fire. No matter how much drudgery and fertilization, nothing took root in the once fertile earth.

The wind carried with it the onset of coming winter chill, passing through the gaps in the walls and into their worn and fraying tunics. It'd be soon on their doorsteps before they know it.

Stitching together whatever rags of cloth, be it from old wool to fur wrappings, they made blankets for all. Clustered gatherings stood amongst the porches of a few homes, having nothing else to do but wait for the coming night. They have taken to sleeping in groups in each single house for both protection and warmth as they cling to one another, embracing each other's body heat while one or two would stay awake with a make-shift weapon.

Since the Blight had come to their borders some four years past, one or two Risen Undead would come ambling through the road at night, bashing against the doors and trying to get in. At first it would occur once ever two weeks or so. Then the span would get shorter and shorter until last winter's end, when almost every night, a risen would make its way through the village road, looking for any living soul to devour.

Daughters, sisters and mothers from neighboring houses thought to gather each night and weather through the darkness till morning light comes.

As the rest of the village tried to scrounge up a living, there are those who are still shaking from the ordeal of the massive undead horde that assailed their village just not too long ago. Never had they seen such number before and thought it to be the last thing they ever would have seen. They looked down at their shaking hands, white from the fright of the undead horde that assaulted their very doorsteps. It would be some time before they would be well.

Still, life must go on for others.

The villagers gossiped amongst themselves, with a population of mainly women, it could not be helped. It was the only thing they would have done to pry themselves away from their current sorrows and woes. A brief piece of light amidst these dark days.

It made life worth living.

It was the young ones, those frolicking at the mouth of the village under the guise of keeping watch when they were just simply skipping on their chores. They suddenly came rushing back towards the village center, screaming: "They're back They're back!"

What followed was a compendium of reactions.

Stern, no nonsense Blanche and pious young Ayleth accompanied by a man, returned to the village. The man had the bearings of a youth who was no stranger to hard labour in the fields, dressed in a tunic so ragged and weathered that it made the villagers seemed tailored for luxury by comparison.

His was the body of a virile young man. But most attention-garnering was the faint greenish glow that emanated from him. And the eyes that belonged to no ordinary human. An almost radiant hue of dead-white and brilliant green swirls.

A rising murmur and gasps began as they saw that his one hand was nothing but bones.

"Rejoice, Sisters! And be at peace for deliverance has come upon us!" enunciated Ayleth in her most resonant tone before the women of the village decided to pick up pitchforks and torches at the strange sight of the strange man.

"The Goddess Nyella has delivered to us a protector. Wrenching free and molded from the very Undead Blight that curse the land!" the pious young blonde explained.

The villagers did not know how to react but fortunately they did not go and attack the man named Reign, much to Blanche's relief. That would have been a disaster as she separated herself and hoped to calm their nerves.

"H-How can this be?" stammered Vallie the baker.

"Is he any dangerous?" followed Thora the farmer, who's sweat-drenched auburn curls stuck to her nape, as she ran from the fields to the gathering at the mouth of the village.

"I don't like any of these," added buxom Bettrys, crossing her arms across her breast and eyeing the stranger suspiciously.

When Blanche came close, they huddled towards her, "Is it any true? About the goddess savior or any part?"

"I doubt it. But he seems to be reasonable enough and the fact that we are even talking here and now and not being torn to pieces, that's at least something," Blanche hoped to calm their nerves, she doubted anything they have could harm Reign should it come to that. She grimaced, hoping it would never reach that point.

"What is he then?" asked someone, Blanche did not know, being harangued from all sides.

Blanche shrugged "Who knows? There are many things that we do not know of such mystical matters. But he seems to have his wits about him and he did destroy the undead rather than join them." This placated most of the lot but there were those few who remained skeptical.

"Still, keep a close eye on him. Just in case," Blanche added lastly, but she said this far more quietly and most had already gathered in their own circles to draw up how they feel.

Some were in agreement. Leaning on the possibility of an actual undead protecting the village. While others where dismissive and afraid of such a creature.

Talks and murmurs circled amongst them.

Just a stone's throw away, the would-be protector cared not for what they thought, for he had far greater problems. There was something in him that was wresting control over his own body. His outside appearance was near expressionless, save for an occasional twitch in the eye.

"Do not resist," hissed a voice. From the tumultuous collection of ethereal whispers, it coalesced into a single unifying voice within him. It was a rasping, obtrusive whisper of a voice, as if its throat was being gnashed amongst gravel and broken glass. From that voice came an almost overwhelming desire. Carrying with it a heavy force that froze the very mind to listen to its demands.

"Reign......" It rasped in an ancient, slithering tone, "Are you not.... hungry?"

"Look upon the delicious morsels," It speaks of the women of the village, Reign was aware of an insatiable hunger well up from the pits of his very own stomach as if he were still living. It was a phantom sensation. A ghost of the past. "A plan is hatched. You merely subject to me, Reign. And I will give your desires to fruition."

There it was, that damned name again! He knows for fact it was not the name his mother gave him, no matter how it eludes him. Reign, the very name echoed something in his bones and somewhere deep in the shadows of his self and beyond.

"Nonsense!" Growled the Whisper, reading Reign's own inner thoughts. "The man you once where is dead!"

"Already, the Chosen herself is doing the bidding for you! Such irony. Humans truly are pathetic and yet exciting cretins," it mused darkly.

"The power you devoured, let me teach you its language. Uncover its secrets. Power unending will be yours, Reign. Embrace the name that we have baptized you with. Relish it!" The presence flared deep within him, encompassing to every nerve and limb of Reign's being. The human soul, the remnant of what was the living man sensed an impending doom. Should he lose this battle, he'd be a prisoner in his own body!

".... N-No...." Reign grunted within. He mustered as much of his will as he can, facing the hungry, formless thing within him.

"WHAT.ARE.YOU?" Reign uttered the question, forcing to convey through the murk.

"I?" replied the Whisper amusingly. "I am the animal that lives within every human. Their desires. Their violence. I AM YOU. And I am pure."

As the battle raged within, Reign's mortal shell was immobile like stone amidst the real world. The villagers drew bizarre looks upon the stranger who did nothing but stand apathetically. A new thought and feeling sprung around the gathered throng, like a cloud of dust kicked, it echoed towards the consciousness within Reign.

It was disbelief. Disbelief that one man had been capable of wiping out the undead horde. And disbelief that he could keep the entire village safe.

"Humans dare doubt us! They could not comprehend nor sense power greater than theirs and it will be their folly!" the Whisper hissed in anger.

"Let us show you the power that you wield. We would fashion a domain amongst these playthings and all those within will be yours to devour and play as to your whims. Can you not envision it? An Endless menagerie. Absolute perfection."

They all watched, no matter whether they felt animosity or curiosity, they all watched as their 'savior' demonstrated the powers of one immersed in the Greater Powers. The living soul that was Reign was pushed to a corner of his own mind as the Whisper took command of everything, including the amassed pool of power.

The Whisper called upon the earth itself, demanding that it answer his call. For where does the dead rise and return if not from the earth? The Dead and the Earth were kin after all.

The Earth obliged, and was also insulted that they should be requested upon rudely. They replied in kind.

Village women struggled for balance as some tumbled on their rumps, as the ground beneath them rumbled with the thunderings of a dozen thunderstorms. Watching with wide eyes. A rumbling bellow erupted as a mound of the Earth rose, casting a grown adult thrice in its shadow. Like an earthen body of a serpent rising from slumber, it snaked its way in a curve as the Whisper raised one arm, guiding the Earth itself where to rise.

When it was over, the raised earth had erected a wall that covered a quarter of the village's outer boundaries. The villagers could not believe their eyes as their mouths nearly fell to the ground.

"Yes! Exult your jubilations unto me, you pathetic sacks of meat! For that is all you are! HAHAHA!"

The animal within him, thought Reign.

Such an apt identity, for only an animal would not think so far ahead as giving in to its desire rather than to do what was logical. No self-restrain, for in its eagerness to demonstrate its power, the Whisper's will waned, just enough for the living soul of Reign to vie for control.

"Enough of this! I will not be reigned in by my own rampant desires!"

"You may try!" The Whisper taunted, unfazed whatsoever now Reign was free.

Outside, the villagers were amazed at the feast of strength and saw a glimmer of hope.

Whilst Reign was in a dilemma of his own, he denied the yearnings of the Whisper. He mustered his will to push back the Whisper. It did not take long for him to grow tired for Reign was not fighting at a foreign entity but his own self. The Whisper and Reign were but two sides of the same coin. His will was just as strong as the Whisper. The Whisper did not only fight out of brute force but also of hidden desires within Reign.

Be they lust, gluttony or pride.

"Praise the Godess Nyella!" pierced a familiar voice. The religious zeal in Ayleth's crystalline eyes were more apparent now as others followed suit in praising the Goddess Nyella and in proxy, her supposed servant.

"Look at how they prostrate themselves towards you! They can do far more. Let the poor pathetic girl guide the lambs towards the wolf. How eager they are to starve for you! Isn't that remarkable compared to your living life as an insignificant peasant?"

Reign was partially ware of what occurred on the real world. The woman Blanche shaking her head as it seemed more and more wanted to join ranks of the pious. But she could not blame them. They had been suffering hunger for some time and any deliverance of any sort was truly welcome. Hunger had such an effect to people.

Ayleth so pious, so eager to serve the greater power she believes came from her Goddess, prostrated herself in religious zeal at the feet of Reign's mortal shell.

"Oh, deliver us beloved protector. May Nyella's light guide us. Tell us, what words of wisdom may bring us hope in these dark and trying times?"

"We eagerly await your word, Oh protector!" As Ayleth was oblivious to the struggle within Reign, the undead could not answer in that moment.

The Whisper was nothing more but Reign's animalistic desire, given life by his devouring of the Fell Light. It twisted and gained sentience from Reign's soul, forming an almost separate entity within the Mortal Shell they inhabit. But it was nonetheless tethered in some ways to Reign.

Reign's frustration and the Whisper's condescension formed something twisted and true, together they spoke as one, their desires intermingling. As the battle raged within, Reign thought of the dangerous things people were willing to do for the sake of their beliefs and was frustrated with her while the Whisper thought of ways to bring low the servant of the Goddess for its own immediate gratification.

Ayleth's sorrows and desires was laid bare, as do all mortals in Reign's supranatural eyes and he saw where the cracks were forming.

Reign's mouth opened and spoke a truth that would reverberate to the very core of Ayleth's being. He wrestled control, his rage taking over once more. it was the knowledge of this mad poor woman would be willing to starve herself and others over something this ridiculous.

The Whisper were silenced and for a mere moment, melded with his own voice, as it once before. Together their voice was laced with the power of Death Light, an act that had the undertones of the one of the Great Powers into it. It would be no simple verbal reprimand but a Mystical Conjuration. Reign was not aware that he drew from the pool of power as he spoke.

"Fool! You dare starve yourself! And bring others into it!"

"Stop that this instant! You poor desperate thing! I was not sent here by your goddess. She has abandoned you! And you know it."

Reign had expected her run away. To be furious.

While the Whisper anticipated her breakdown. Her descent into despair.

What they saw instead was a woman beaten but still standing. Gone was the wide-eyed, shaking ardor that makes one question if she were sane. In its place was a clarity. Sad but grounded clarity. Ayleth stared blankly not outward but into her own self. The words Reign uttered broke through her pious façade and the words struck through the very core of her soul.

It was then that Reign saw, now that the cloud of religious zeal was dispersed. Ayleth had of course known it. Her supposed fervent belief in her faith was nothing more than desperate attempt of a ruse, not to fool others, but only herself. She was genuinely trying to live her life, it was only a secondary effect that others came to her and joined her in her prayers, not an active part on herself to force others into her faith.

She said nothing at first.

Then she looked to his eyes, they were clear and still blue, like a lake that had found its peace.

Finally, she simply nodded in respect before turning back towards the village, the gathered crowd parted in her path. As Reign and the Whisper were transfixed, hate once more boiled in Reign's dead veins.

Reign realized there was more to Ayleth than blind faith. He was angry not only at the Whisper but at himself for dismissing her woes and the village's. It was all so hard to feel anything in this dead prison he called his body. He was desynchronized from the world and all the living people in it.

Much like that cruel, dark god he did battle so many years ago.

A tremendous will and emotion overflowed from Reign in that moment. An emotion so encompassing, it could not simply be brought forth at Reign's choice, for he did not truly want it and yet here it was. A great wave that washed over and drowning out the Whisper.

"What is this? how can this be?!" The Whisper lashed.

"This is not over! You will never be rid of me!" screamed the Whisper as the great waves of the emotion submerged the thing back in the deepest pits of Reign's being. The living soul once more took command of the mortal shell, the Whisper contained.

For now, a mere dark beat inside the shadows of his soul.

Reign's gaze was fixed to the ground, a steady stream of cold wind dispersed the crowd and sent them to their homes for warmth. Blanche was the last to part. But before doing so and returning to the fires, she came down towards Reign.

"It had to be said. People do foolish and dangerous things when they think they are in the right," she said simply. As an afterthought towards building goodwill, for it seems they would be working from now on, she asked "How are you feeling?"

Reign lifted his gaze and looked her in the eye.

"Ashamed."