Guardian of Chaos

Thorjen POV

Darkness.

And yet something warm existed around him.

Was this ****? He wondered and wondered...and yet nothing changed. He remained within this state. Submerged within darkness and yet...feeling warmth.

This feeling continued for an unknown amount of time. He wasn’t sure what **** felt like. But with each growing moment of silence and nothing but darkness surrounding him. He was starting to believe that he was indeed dead.

‘Maybe it’s for the best.' he thought

'I’ve been nothing but a burden to everyone. My mother...Threyja...Julien...The entire sect. Why should I keep fighting against fate...when it’s clear it just wants me to lose.’

“How long will you continue to sleep...nameless traveller?”

“Huh!”

*Crackle...shreeeeee*

A high pitch sound echoed through the darkness and Thorjen’s eyes snapped open. His breathing was gentle as though he wasn’t even alive. There wasn’t even a single bit of haste within him. He felt serene and one with the darkness.

‘I had accepted the shroud...so why am I seeing this.’

He found himself gazing at an odd fleshly ceiling. The walls were oozing a violet substance, likened to blood and somewhat oddly reminding him of the insides of a beast. The fleshly ceiling moved and Thorjens eyes snapped open.

“I'm talking to you...”

Thorjen heard that same raspy voice again. This time, he lifted his body away from the ground and casually twisted his head to one side.

Rather hazily he saw a figure sat cross legged against the fleshy wall. Chains had bound the figure who had long silver hair that fell down to its knees. The figure stretched forth a withering bony pale finger towards him.

‘Right so this must be hell.’ he thought to himself darkly.

Thorjen didn’t seem to feel anything, he had accepted his **** and this place where he had woken up too was probably the afterlife. He only wished to have said goodbye properly to those he loved.

“Why...why am I so weak.”

“Weak? Ho-oh...it’s been a while since I've smelt something with an aura equally as sinister as my own. Or perhaps your own is much more...purer kukukuku”

Thorjen was blankly staring at the figure. He noticed the chains bound around the fellows' limbs were covered in glowing magenta runes. He felt those runes made somewhat of sense to him.

“Is this hell?” he asked stiffly again

“Hell? What's gotten into your head? Did someone break you...and you still haven’t answered me...who...are...you?”

Thorjen flinched, there was something unworldly about this figure, even its coral like voice felt as though something dark was laced within it.

“I...I... I know I am dead...so I only wish to know where I am?”

…

“hahahaha- so that’s it...you aren't dead you brat! but perhaps you will probably wish that you were...hmmm, you see this isn't hell but actually a prison! A prison a bunch of scared so-called Elders sealed me away in. Fucking cowards“

Thorjens brow narrowed. ‘_Wait-what? This...this isn't hell?’ _he took a look at his body, inspected his limbs and touched his facial features. He still felt the sensation of touch against his face but he wasn’t wholly convinced yet that he wasn’t dead.

“Hmm let me see...ah yes, I heard something deep above. A loud bang, yes... A loud bang and then screams. But then silence befell at a sudden, an unnatural silence... Yes, it must have been...ah yes... I almost forgot hahaha Ivanya the temptress! That bitch who refused to let me be. Yes, it must have been her doing. But why didn’t she take you too? Hmmm could it be...oh my surely not...hey kid... come over here.”

Thorjen started to regain somewhat of his sanity back. He felt fear struck him when that figure spoke again. There was heavy pressure wrapping itself around his throat.

“w-why?” he barely mouthed.

“Because I FUCKING said so...NOW COME!” The entire place quaked with a terrible tremor. Thorjen had never felt the air visibly rumble as it was doing. His entire body keeled over until he was laying on his stomach, pinned to the ground by an unseen ****.

“gyuk! COUGH-COUGH! DAMN IT!”

He heard the vocal sounds of the figure painfully coughing. That earlier intense pressure had quickly subsided also.

Thorjen was alert, refusing to move his gaze away from the figure for a single moment. Now that his body had felt what he could only describe as a terrible prelude towards disaster. His mind was telling him to get as far as away as he could. This figure was dangerous. More so, than any being he had ever met in his entire life.

By instinct Thorjen crawled away from the figure until his back met the fleshy wall on the adjacent side. He touched the ground and just realised this weird flesh like substance covered the entire place. 'Wh-what the fuck is going on? if I'm not dead then where am I?"

“Fuck brat-look what you made me do... Sigh... do you know how hard it is for a guardian to stay alive within this place? with these damn accursed things sucking my life **** away! Well? Fuck! Let me tell you...for over 100 years I've been chained in this realm. Chained like a damned rat in this fucked up cage! Arghh!“ the chains rattled as the figure thrashed its bound arms in frustration.

Thorjen heard the fellow mention something which piqued his interest. ‘Guardian?’ his mind started racing as he quickly summarised the brief knowledge he understood about those beings.

Guardians were said to be ghost like entities, existing between the real world and a veiled world where fairies, ghosts and demonic spirits existed in. They could only truly manifest themselves with a host. But from the little Thorjen understood about them, the host must either be chosen or meet the cultivation requirements to house one.

The idea that he was in the presence of one of those fabled gaurdians was almost hard to believe.

So he continued observing the fellow from the distance he created between the two. Only now just noticing a feint purple aura feintly burning around the chain bound to its limbs.

“What? You don’t believe me? *scoffs* listen here kid, I’ve existed long enough to know there are a whole host of powers existing out there. A lot of whom could wave a single hand and crush a whole kingdom if they desired. Kukuku, what do you know about the true rulers of this world? But I tell you this, I Manstramundus! Guardian of Chaos can only be rivalled by a small few of those powers. Hmph, if you saw me at the height of my powers, you’d be begging to be in my presence.” Thorjen watched the fellow turn its nose upwards at him in a proud manner.

“S-so...if you're a guardian, how did you manage to end up here?” His question was viable considering he understood Guardians couldn’t be contained by mortal means.

“That’s obvious. Because this realm or shall I say this space is special. And because my own constitution has brought this misfortune upon me.”

“What does that mean?”

“Think about it...if mortals or immortals built this prison to contain me within this world, what does that say about me?” Thorjen thought deeply for a few moments, then his eyes flashed open.

“You...You’re a mortal?”

“Half mortal...hmmm and by your smell something tells me we have more in common than merely being trapped down here.”

“I don’t understand? What about my smell makes you think that?”

“Sigh, you’re still too green. Explaining it wouldn’t mean much. And it also ruins the fun. But in order to clear your doubts. I better tell you who I am and what got me trapped down here in the first place.”

The figure adjusted his seating and began narrating a glittering past to the wide-eyed youth. Thorjen never said a word and sat quietly through the tale of the man known as Mastramundus.

A poor and weak boy, born as the only son to the house of a retired knight. Only when his father had placed down his sword. He replaced it with a bottle of ale instead. And little Mastramundus was **** to endure the daily beatings from his father who found enjoyment in tormenting his son. One night he was awoken from his sleep by the sounds of his mother begging for her life. And under the imperfect twilight night, he saw his father strangling his mother to ****.

Mastramundus was only 6 when he witnessed his drunk father murdering his mother. He was acquitted of all crimes, pardoned by his good friend who happened to be the son of the current king whom he used to serve. Mastramundus left his home not too long after, he survived on the streets and ran with thieves.

Once he turned 13, he discovered an old blind sage who called himself the king maker. And through this fellow, an unlikely friendship was forged. Mastramundus was offered to live with the blind said and so he did. Spending almost 5 years living in a blissful peace, whilst training in the dual arts of body cultivation and swordsmanship. You see the blind sage held a particular secret about himself hidden at first, until Mastramundus discovered the truth somewhat later after the sage’s ****. And that was the truth about the sage's lineage. The old sage was a half-Elf.

When Mastramundus turned 18 he returned home to the place of his birth and murdered his father. He pointed his sword at his fathers friends in high places, and slaughtered kings and nobles alike. From then he begun carving his legend across the realms. From defeating popular knights, assassin guilds and courting princesses to female generals. Not before long he manifested his own Dao. A feat unheard of within someone so young. Through this Mastramundus transcended himself into something halfway torn between a mortal and a living spirit.

The only problem with that was the essence was focused on chaos.

Thorjen couldn’t believe someone lived such a life. And the more he sat and listened to Mastramundus’ story, the more his fear started to merge into one of a great marvel.

“I could’ve ascended fully to the realm of godhood. I might’ve been one of the first to do so. But alas...I couldn’t fully let go of my human nature. I enjoyed bedding all those women who used to turn their noses up at me. Hahaha and let's just say, the Dao I forged made them always begging for more after they spent the night with me. Which brings me to my current predicament. Sigh, long story short. A certain patriarch's daughter couldn’t deal with my refusal to wed her, and as such her father formed an unholy allegiance with dark powers to subdue me here. “

Thorjen could only make a subtle ‘Ah sound. There was so much to unpack within that tale. But his mind was racing with so much wanderlust and emotion.

From intrigue, to elation, to happiness and finally dismay. Was this the life of a knight? By no means was Mastramundus noble, but how could he be considering the childhood he was exposed too. Even fates attempt at balancing his misfortune with the blind sage had only given him the power he needed to avenge his mother. Something Thorjen thoroughly agreed with. In the end, he could only sigh. He remembered his own life thus far and couldn’t help but form close similarities between he and the young Mastramundus.

After a while seated in silence, Thorjen raised his lowered gaze and exhaled a warm breath. He then gradually crawled against the fleshy ground; he couldn’t help grimacing along the way. Mastramundus wore a slightly surprised expression, before a snide grin creased against his handsome grey face.

Thorjen was now close enough to touch the figure. Mastramundus didn’t move an inch, merely fondly staring at the youth.

“I won't ask about your own life. But for us to meet this way...I can only imagine it hasn’t been an easy one. But since you’re here...let us form an accord.”

“An accord...like a partnership?”

The chains fastened around his limbs rattled as Mastramundus excitedly moved closed towards him.

“Yes! An accord! A partnership! Whatever you want to call it! But listen to me boy. If you desire power, strength, true power! Enough to shape and destroy anything in your way! Then accept my inheritance and allow me to aid you on your journey.”

Thorjen was a little taken aback. But he understood this made sense to Mastramundus. If he had entered here, there was probably a way for him to escape. “

“What...what would you like in return?” Thorjen wasn’t under any illusion the guardian was doing this out of the goodness of his heart. After all, he could only imagine the things he omitted from his story that might’ve been the real reason for his imprisonment.

“kukuku- nothing beyond your ability. Just that when the time presents itself, you’ll allow me to spill the blood of the ones that trapped me within here. And if those fellows have died, then wrath befalls upon their spouses and if they have been taken, then their children, or their children’s children...until they’ve been wiped out.”

Thorjen winced. He felt a cold aura softly clawing against his skin.

‘This fellow...just how Chaotic is he...’

“Ahaha but-but those things are for a different time. For now...let's talk about you.”

Mastramundus held out his open palms. And Thorjen watched on with wonder as a surge of bright lights started to pull away from his skin. Five balls of different coloured lights emerged. Forming an arch around the seated figure. Thorjen moved back a little, unsure if he was supposed to be this close to the floating bright lights. But his eyes remained glued to the wonderful spectacle taken place. The balls of light started to bloom and slowly the ball of lights gradually opened into unique coloured flowers.

“Ahaha Guess what brat! Those fools sealed my mortal body here, but they couldn’t seal away all the other guardians I devoured during my lifetime.

And here I present to you a choice... a choice of Martial Dao’s

Dao of Chaos

Dao of Hope

Dao of Fertility and life ****

Dao of Neglection

Dao of stone heart