The Abandoned Realm - Prologue

The peaceful days in the realm of Annwn would soon be coming to an end. Islands, floating in the clouds, would soon have soldiers falling into the abyss, and all I could do was sit there and watch.

Outside on the balcony at the top of the highest temple, I observed the lives of the first island’s citizens go about their peaceful days. Of the four island clusters, the first was my favorite. The luxurious golden and ruby temple, built on a floating island overlooking the main island, received the most praise from the Archon of Annwn’s worshipers. Priests kept the emerald leafed trees pruned, and the temple never ceased to shine in the amber sun’s rays. The first island’s kingdom built their cities with the same respect as their Archon’s temple. 

“Are you certain you wish to go through with this?” I asked the being beside me, taking a sip of the cheap mead a poor worshiper left the Archon of Annwn.

The Archon, Saklas, looked over the first island. His gaze drifted across the other three. “I am bored with peace. War is no different. And, I have grown tired of these mortals. I am ready for a new realm.”

“But, this was your very first realm. You have the option to end their lives swiftly without making them fight their way to extinction.”

“Why bother? Mortals only exist to entertain us,” Saklas said. He dumped the stale liquid over the temple’s edge. “Make sure they finish their destruction, father.”

Then, the bottle chased after its contents, shattering against the ground.

I did not watch the lesser Archon leave, but I knew. One minute, he was beside me, and the next, Saklas walked through a realm portal he created. The amber sun trembled as the Archon left his realm.

I turned my back to the island, but the temple sight before me was not much better.

Watch the realm’s destruction? Ensure the mortals’ extinction?

I remembered the days when Saklas was just a young Archon. My son, eyes and hair as bright as the sun, had beamed at the sight of this very same realm he had created. He learned to create faster than his siblings. When I had instructed him to add mortals so he would never be alone, Saklas had cried for days after his first creature crumbled due to his strength.

Mortals were fragile in the hands of beings like us.

Now, Saklas could not be bothered to let his toys perish quickly. Instead, he had sown the seeds of fear in the minds of each islands’ generals. War was inevitable, and the mortals would fall to their deaths. 

These mortals, despite being the descendents of the first beings I instructed Saklas to make, were not my responsibility. I knew none of them—had never been worshiped by any of them. What stopped me from leaving this abandoned realm? They only lasted as long as the mana from its creation and Archon allowed, never more than a couple centuries, shorter if their Archons stopped fueling the realm’s mana reserve. 

Snickering children walked onto the crimson bridge connecting the temple’s island to the first island. I did not turn until the children stepped foot onto the white bricked path leading to the temple’s altar. The children, not older than twelve, circled a scrawny mortal with a fully colored bruise over his eye. A larger boy pushed the scrawny one towards the altar’s stairs.

“I don’t want to do this,” the scrawny boy whined. “What if I anger our god?”

The larger one stepped forward, and the scrawny one stumbled into the steps. With sparks dancing in his hand, the boy standing over the other threatened, “You’ll become a general one day, Arawn the Twenty-Ninth. Our god will bless you with power. You could use a little boost.”

The scrawny mortal stood up and looked back at the temple. He turned to the group of children, who blocked his exit off the island. Giving in, he walked up the steps and disappeared from my sight.

The larger boy laughed, “I hope our god smites you.”

He walked through the group, and the mortal children left the island.

I chuckled. If Saklas had not abandoned his realm, the young mortal would have been smited. Instead, he would be left untouched.

Something stirred inside, and I jumped onto the roof in my mortal form—lanky body easing my climb instead of needing my hidden wings to fly up. My umber skin soaked the heat from my blazing aqua hair and the sun. I sat down and watched the mortal boy appear on the balcony. He approached the railing, mumbling his astonishment as he looked over the realm. 

Large birds flew above the gold and red roofed buildings with riders traveling to their destinations. Behind a thick wall, near the path to Saklas’s temple, the first island’s garrison readied its troops. More birds sat within stables with large white dogs, both adorning shining armor. 

The mortal turned to leave the temple, but he slammed into the railing as his eyes landed on me. 

“Do you need something from me, boy?” I asked. Fear swirled in his eyes, but he did not answer. Frowning, I demanded, “Speak.”

“A-are you my god?” he asked.

Hiding my smirk, I replied. “If I was, I would have vanquished you with light as bright as the sun the moment you set foot through the temple’s door.”

My words only vanquished his fear. He grinned to himself, having lived through a taboo. A gust of wind blew from the storm brewing on the second island. The chill snapped him out of his feeling of victory, and he recovered, steeling himself. Despite his small frame, the boy seemed to have some training—even if it was not strength.

He frowned, and his hand twitched at the sword on his side. “Who are you, sir? Why are you in my god’s temple?”

“Why can I not be? I am a god. Though, I prefer the term Archon.” I jumped off the roof. He stumbled away from me, drawing his sword. I grabbed the skinny blade, he flinched, and I yanked it from his hands. As I threw the sword over the edge, the boy watched the amber blood leaking from my palm. I distorted time, causing the realm to pause, while my hand healed. When time flowed again, the boy froze at my immediate healing.

I allowed my smirk to show as he failed to hide his emotions once more. 

“Wait,” he paused. “Then you—” He bit his lip. “Prove it. Prove to me that you’re a god.”

I did not give the mortal enough credit. He was daring, especially after he saw my healing. I could not help but chuckle.

“If you’re a god, you should be mad at me for stepping on holy grounds.” He flushed. 

“Very well,” I chuckled again. Pointing up towards the sun, I created a blue flame on my fingertip. He looked up, his gaze drifting from my flame to the amber sun. I stopped time again, flew to the sun in my true form, and engulfed it in my flames. When I returned, the sun flickered aqua, and the boy turned white.

Whether from fear or realization of his rudeness, the mortal collapsed to his shaking knees. “Great god! I apologize for my ignorance! Please, forgive me!”

“Raise your head, boy. I am not your Archon.” I said, his trembling sickening me.  “Go home. Your parents will worry if you are gone for too long.”

Rising, he winced but listened. After bowing once more, he disappeared into the temple and left the island. I watched as he made his way over to the garrison.

He may prove an interesting plaything.

Perhaps I would stay in this realm for a little while.

*   *   *

The dark clouds over the second island had festered since the day Saklas abandoned his realm. Weeks after, the second island had declared war on the third island, and the third fell in under a year. The second turned its attention to the fourth island and continued its slaughter. Like the third, massive blasts of magic destabilized the floating land. Explosions broke off chunks of land, and the abyss consumed fallen parts of the realm. Three years after Saklas left, the fourth island fell. A few remnants of the two islands remained but most of the land had sunk into the abyss. They still floated with lingering magic from Saklas’s original creation, held up by the realm’s reserve of their Archon’s magic. The land of Annwn had been shattered to pieces, and only the first and second islands remained stable. 

Now, five years after Saklas left, the first and second island were engaged in a two-year-old war. Both sides sent thousands of soldiers to their unknown deaths below. While the first island held off their attackers better than the other two, it continued to lose fragments to the abyss. 

I watched as magic between both sides lit up the airspace. Dancing flames, waterfalls of rain, jumping lightning, and screams fill the battlefield in the clouds. It was a pointless slaughter. The only scents lingering in the air these days were blood and burnt flesh. I continued questioning Saklas’s decision; however, it was not my decision to make.

A pack of bloodstained Hounds of Annwn rode the wind from the battlefield, and a different pack, with fur as white as snow, replaced them. Each pack followed a golden furred leader, returning to and leaving from the garrison. After the war had begun on the first island, the mortals had crowded the walls of the garrison. The edges closest to the second island destabilized from magical impacts and fell first.

A mortal walked towards the temple. The rest made fewer visits after the war erupted, and questions spread, wondering where their “god” was. Offerings to Saklas stopped along with daily visits from the temple’s priests.

The mortal ascended the temple’s stairs and entered below. I looked down from my seat on the roof, watching the boy from five years ago step onto the balcony. Muscle replaced his thin frame, and a permanent glare vanquished the light of youth from his eyes. 

He bowed his head, “Great god.”

“I told you, boy, I am an Archon.” I crossed my arms. “What is your reason for visiting me?”

“My people are dying.”

“Why is that my concern? I am not the Archon of your realm.”

The mortal took off his helmet, and a red handprint covered his cheek. Looking down at it, he said, “My father is General Arawn XXVIII. As his son, I will replace him and lead the people of Arawn against General Hafgan XXXI’s army, but everyone questions my competence as leader. My father trained me in strategic warfare and sword play, but I lack power. I don’t have an ounce of magic in me.”

“And you expect me to pity you?”

“No, sir, never.”

“Then, why are you here?”

The son of General Arawn XXVIII slammed his teeth together. He remained silent as the screams from the battlefield cried around us. 

He set his helmet on the balcony and bowed, his head slamming into the wooden planks. “I beg you, divine Archon, give me the power to save my people.”

I watched the sweat run down his temple. A mortal never begged me for something. There were the occasional prayers, but any I had graced with my presence trembled before my power. They all ran from me in fear. 

Except this mortal—he came back. 

I did not know if I should deem him foolish or brave. Either way, young Arawn XXIX continued to entertain me.

Closing my eyes, I used my realm magic and crafted a portal within my mind. The portal established a path to all of the creatures I had a connection with, from my favorite mortals—whom I claimed as my followers, despite not making them worship me nor letting them know of my true powers—to those who shared my blood. The path to my brethren radiated behind my eyelids, and I weaved my consciousness into Saklas’s mind. “Where are you, and what are you doing?” 

“I am exploring Sam's new realm. The one where day and night are split,” the Archon answered, pointing me towards his brother’s realm. 

I demanded more information, recalling the layout. In a matter of seconds, I opened a realm portal and pulled the Archon through.

“Do not smite the boy, Saklas,” I ordered the Archon, whose eyes flared with power the moment they saw the son of General Arawn XXVIII. “He is looking for power to fight the general of your second island.”

Young Arawn XXIX did not look up from his bow. At the arrival of Saklas, his mortal body stiffened and heart roared. Unlike me, Saklas did not restrain most of his power around the boy.

“Why should I give him power? I wanted him powerless to die by Hafgan XXXI’s hands,” Saklas reported down our mental network. 

I frowned, “You have already asked me to watch over this…ash heap of a realm. Give the boy some power, a drop even, to ease my boredom, or I will leave. You owe me that much.”

“Very well,” Saklas cleared his throat. He fell silent, racking his mind for the quickest solution. His slothfulness sickened me. “I know. Son of Arawn XXVIII, I can give you an item that will steal another’s power and give it to you.”

“You can not be serious, Saklas.”

“Sam and I were hunting armored beasts in our quest for adventure, father. I would like to return to that right away.”

“This plan, it is ridiculous," I pushed.

“Even if he has all of the power in this realm, he will die when the reserve runs out of magic and the realm collapses.”

“It is too danger—”

“This is my realm. I will do with it as I see fit.”

A weapon, dangerous enough to steal another mortal’s power, was beyond foolish. I could not understand Saklas’s reasoning behind it; unfortunately, he was right. This was his realm. The Archon already wanted this realm destroyed, so did it really matter if he gave a mortal a weapon to shift the flow of war completely instead of keeping the battle even? Seeing young Arawn XXIX take control of the battle could keep me here for a few more years.

Saklas grabbed the boy and yanked him from the ground. Raw, amber light flowed between the Archon’s free hand’s fingers, weaving together and coiling a vine. He forced the vine into the boy’s wrist, and the son of Arawn XXVIII’s screams drowned out the sounds from the battlefield. Unconscious, the mortal collapsed from the pain, but I caught his arm before he could fall away from Saklas’s grasp. The vine dug its way into young Arawn XXIX’s flesh, nestling into his bloodstream. Where the veins came together in his wrist, a small red bulb sprouted to life.

“When he dies, I am taking the vine,” I fumed.

The Archon shook his head, “Kill him or take it now for all I care. Are you done with me? I would like to leave.”

“Go.”

My simple-minded son disappeared from his realm once more, and I contemplated killing the boy for the weapon Saklas made.

Young Arawn XXIX did not wake until late that night. Agony scrunched his face; however, his combatant instincts took over. Jumping to his feet, he drew his weapon, but his shoulders loosened when he realized where he was. He fell into the balcony’s railing, dropping the sword and clutching his wrist.

“What’s this?” the son of Arawn XXVIII breathed, hands trembling. He must have directed his thoughts to it because a crimson thorned vine grew from the bulb.

I slid off the roof of the temple and considered, “We will call that…a Bloodvine. If what your Archon said is true, it digs into your enemy and steals their magic, transferring it to you.”

With a tool like the Bloodvine, young Arawn XXIX could one day have all of the elemental magic the Archons commanded. Despite all of the power, his mortal flames could never burn as hot, his ice could never freeze as cold, and his vines could never ensnare as tight as my own immortal powers.

Despite the pain, light flickered in the boy’s eyes. He smiled, “With this, I’ll be able to save my people. Thank you, Great go--divine Archon for summoning my Archon to help. Thank you.”

A vine of sickness twisting in my own stomach, I nodded, told the boy to rest, and he returned to the garrison. 

Hiding in the shadows, I snuck into the city the day after Saklas had given the son of Arawn XXVIII the Bloodvine. The temple’s roof never comforted my back the night before. Inside the garrison’s walls, the General of Arawn shoved his son towards a hallway. Hopping into their shadows, I waited for the boy to test his new power. Screams echoed under the fort, and the General stopped before a cell.

“Test it,” the boy’s father ordered, shoving young Arawn XXIX before a prisoner.

I expected the son to pause, but he pushed his arm through the bars. The Bloodvine sprouted to life, coiling around his hand. Using any chance for escape, the prisoner launched for his arm and attempted to pull it off. A grunt came from young Arawn XXIX, and the vine struck the prisoner. Her screams drowned out the others, the boy pulled his arm out to cover his ears, and the Bloodvine drained her magic. When the prisoner collapsed, the vine withdrew back into the bulb on the son of Arawn XXVIII.

“What magic did she have?” young Arawn XXIX asked his father.

“Ice,” the man answered and nodded to the vine. “Use it. Direct your thoughts to create ice in your palms like you did with the vine.”

The instructions forced me to hide my scoff. General Arawn XXVIII was not a magic instructor, so his instruction was bleak. However, a son without magic needed more guidance.

“Ice in my palms?” Frost drifted from his palms and coated the floor. “Oh god! I just have to think about it and it works!”

“It really is a magic draining weapon. Give it to me, son. I’ll win this war.”

The boy hid the Bloodvine against his chest, “No, our god gave it to me. I’ll fight evil with it.” 

“Give it to me!” General Arawn XXVIII raised a fist to strike his son, but young Arawn XXIX directed the Bloodvine to catch his father’s arm. The man’s screams echoed through the prison. Soldiers of Arawn stopped torturing their island of Hafgan captives and watched the boy drain his father’s powers. The general begged, “Stop it, Arawn. It hurts.”

“Our god gifted me this vine to stop evil. I’ll save our land from General Hafgan XXXI’s war and your terror!”

I bit my cheek. Young Arawn XXIX drained his father without mercy—would he treat his enemy the same? I returned to the temple’s roof and watched the boy spark new life on the battlefield in the clouds.

*   *   *

The war had waged on for another five years. With his new weapon, the new General of Arawn carved his way through the soldiers from the island of Hafgan. His desire to “fight evil” fueled the growth of his powers, and he led the army with little resistance from Hafgan XXXI’s forces. When I thought he could not learn any more magic, a new spell sparked the battlefield. No mortal could possibly stop him. I could, but the mortal realm would perish whether he killed everyone or the reserve drained of lingering mana. 

Its end did not matter.

The first island had shoved the enemy army into the sky, preventing the remaining half of their main land from destabilizing under magical attack and plummeting to the abyss. As the first island had continued their advances, the second island had lost airspace, and the battlefield had reached the second island’s land. The island of Arawn continued their assault until both islands had only half of their land remaining, the rest crumbling to the depths.

Unlike General Hafgan XXXI, young General Arawn XXIX had made his troops stop their assault. The boy had met with the other general, and a peace treaty had been signed.

I never knew the conditions of the treaty, but I never saw the second island bring money, beasts, nor goods in exchange for the damage they caused. 

Weeks after peace took over the islands, the darkness from the abyss had leached into the sky, and the amber sun, that continued to fade over the years with the absence of its Archon, bleached. It turned into a white fiery ball in the sky.

 The Hounds of Annwn howled.

Saklas had truly abandoned the realm.

In the days of rebirth, the mortals had cleaned up the island and turned to repairs. During the war, their visits were scarce, but they stopped visiting the temple all together now. Did they realize their Archon turned his back on them, or were they angry about the war? Regardless, no one came to offer their thanks, except for one mortal.

General Arawn XXIX ascended the bridge to the temple’s island. He entered and appeared through the door I sat above.

The boy, now no older than his early-twenties, looked like the husk of an old man. Only one battle wound showed, carving a scar down his left eye. The rest of his body appeared worn, void of all energy, but two heavy swords remained strapped to his back.

“Great god.” He looked up at me. His voice sounded as if it could never laugh again. In my silence, he said, “My land is now peaceful thanks to you and your…companion’s help. For that, you have my appreciation and undying devotion. I’ll have my citizens build you a temple in the heart of our island and spend the rest of my days worshiping you. Your powers deserve to be known and shared. With you, I’ll be able to restore my land!”

His devotion to me made a spark twinkle in his clouded gaze, but I could not return the light he poured out. “I am not your Archon; therefore, I do not want to be worshiped like your Archon.”

“But we could use your powers for good! You’ve helped—”

“No, you are not to worship me,” I ordered. 

I could not tell him, but with peace returning to the realm, I would soon leave it. The war had kept me entertained for some time, but the overwhelming slaughter became boring. Saklas was, unfortunately, correct.

Young General Arawn XXIX asked, “Did I do something to upset you, Great god?”

“No,” I replied. “Nothing at all. You saved your people and showed your greatest enemy mercy. What better qualities are in a mortal? Though, amuse me. Why did you spare the island of Hafgan’s soldiers and General Hafgan XXXI?”

“If we killed them all, we would have been no different than General Hafgan.” A shadow extinguished the light in his eyes. The Bloodvine shot towards my ankle, too quick for me to think about stopping time, yanking me to the balcony floor.  “We would have been no different than our god.”

More Bloodvines sprouted from the bulb, coiled around my body, and forced me to bow before the mortal. 

I never bowed to a mortal.

“What is the meaning of this?” I growled, digging my claws into the wooden planks. My mortal appearance vanished at the halting of magic in my veins, revealing my true, grotesque form. The vines tightened around my smaller body, snaring my wings and trapping me like a wild animal. 

I thought that fool’s weapon only worked on mortals!

General Arawn XXIX laughed. It made my heart tremble worse than any noise on the battlefield. He placed a hand over his face and opened his scarred eye. In his hysterics, he muttered, “We really do live in hell. Damn it, why! Why did General Hafgan have to be right? All of our gods are demons, and all they want is to watch us suffer.” He took a steadying breath, “At least now, I can use your powers for good instead of evil.”

I slammed upwards, but the thorns only ripped apart my umber skin. Amber blood ran from each scratch. Refusing to clot, the liquid dripped then poured onto the balcony, slicking my flameless claws. Stalling, I reasoned, “I never wanted you to suffer. I—”

“Didn’t want us to suffer?” the mortal cut me off. If I could break free, I would rip his tongue out for his ridiculous delusion of power. “You watched as we slaughtered each other. You watched as the third and fourth island fell, and you did nothing!”

“I summoned your Archon and helped you win!” I bared my fangs at him. “Without me, all of your citizens would have died!”

“You could’ve stopped this war…Stopped General Hafgan from killing anyone.”

“That was Saklas’s decision. It was not mine to make.” 

“Then, why did you help me? Hafgan could’ve killed everyone in Arawn, in Annwn, but you helped me. Why?”

“I took a liking to you. You were the first mortal who had the courage to challenge me, and I wanted to see you win.”

“If you really wanted to see me win, you would’ve joined my soldiers on the battlefield and killed all of Hafgan. You only watched because, because you see us as entertainment. That is exactly what that joke of a god Saklas said…” If the mortal continued to belittle Saklas with his heartbroken voice, the Archon would hear the mockery and appear. Instead, General Arawn XXIX crouched, whispering, “Right before General Hafgan borrowed the Bloodvine from me to steal his powers and kill that monster.”

“You—” I tried to launch at his throat, shredding my aqua wings under the thorns. Saklas…he killed my—

He did not flinch at my claws. “I hoped you would have been different, that you actually wanted to help us. I gave you a chance, my god, but you threw it away. I see now that you are nothing more than a demon like Saklas. I’m sorry, but you leave me no choice.”

The mortal tightened the vines again, and they heated up. Not that the vines could burn me, however. Nothing could burn me. But pain, worse than anything I had ever felt, seared every nerve in my body. I almost drowned in the pain until something pulled my mind away from it.

A scream sounded in the area. I did not know where it came from, but the mortal did not care. He did not even look around for the screaming victim. If it was in this vicinity, it had to belong to one of his citizens. Why had he not gone to look for the victim? Did his disappointment in me overwhelm his sense of duty? 

No, it was not the scream of a mortal. It was my screams.

I had not recognized my own screams. No mortal, no demon, nor another Archon could make me feel as much pain as I felt now. Every twitch hurt. Every breath, every scream, every drop of blood.

Everything hurt.

My body collapsed in the vined jail. Was this how Saklas felt before he died? He perished in this realm, and I did not even know? That fool, he should have never given—

If it could be given from one being to another, it could be taken as well.

Through the pain, my hand slid over to the nearest coil of the Bloodvine. It had been close, naturally, but each movement made my screams louder. I weaved my fingers around the vine under my throat. Blood soaked my hand, but I did not know if it was from my clenched claws or the piercing thorns.

As the mortal willed my power to leave me, I willed the Bloodvine to leave him. My shredded wings twitched free first. Noticing the retreating vines, General Arawn XXIX stopped draining my power, turning to keep hold of the Bloodvine. Without the pain burning my body, my strength rushed through my aching muscles. I seized the Bloodvine, yanking it from his wrist, and it dug its way into my own.

Blood, red and mortal mixed with my amber, spilled from the missing bulb in the mortal's wrist. Distorting time, I jumped away from him, letting my torn, yet healing, wings lift me into the black sky. With the flow of time, his wound recovered as quickly as my own…he had taken too much of my power.

The mortal General of Arawn became a near immortal Archon.

And the Hhounds of Annwn howled once more.

Grabbing his head, the boy screamed. A pair of demonic horns branched between his fingers, and a set of branching black wings, different from my own, sprouted from his back. His gritted teeth bared fangs as sharp as the claws gripping onto his head. The mortal turned into a demon god.

Saklas and I underestimated his cursed weapon. Nothing should be able to take the power of an Archon and transform that being into one like myself!

Opening a realm portal, I flew towards my escape. Never again could I show pity to a mortal. 

A voice belonging to no mortal raked a shiver down my back. Young General Arawn XXIX growled after me. 

“If you won’t use your powers to prevent evil, then I will. This isn’t over. It’s just the beginning.”

About the Author

Emily Singewald is an English Education major with a passion in writing fantasy and speculative fiction. When not in the secondary classroom or in classes for college, she can be found with her nose buried in her computer or out playing paintball with friends.

Cover design made using Canva design tools