Fated Secrets

The first instalment of the Fated Secrets series

Short version

There was once a scroll created by an elf queen that couldn't handle its unique powers, and it was considered forbidden by many. It was hidden for eternity inside an indestructible vault at the request of a powerful man. A contract was formed the night it was created: "You must leave the scroll untouched and unused, or greater hell will unleash upon the world around us." The elf would decree, but the man had ignored her word.

Fifty years later, a woman used the scroll to get revenge fueled by her lost love. By using the scroll, she made a fatal mistake. She had cast the forbidden scroll that the queen created to keep her enemies from harming her Kingdom. It could send a person away, never to return. But, because they didn't have the correct attributes, the scroll mutated. And gave consequences beyond imagination. People of pure heart became cursed with the powers of the elements, but that wasn't all; a war had begun.

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3. Chapter 1 (Part 1) - The Cursed Storm

Chapter 1 (Part 1) - The Cursed Storm

Maynard

The festival of Numadium was a festival that people all around the Heart-Shield kingdom took part in. In preparation for the feast, the kingdom was flooded with the aroma of freshly baked bread and cooked fish. Fruit picked from grey oak trees was served with glasses of liquor that were filled to the brim, sparkling in the dazzling sunlight of that wonderful day. People were, once again, happy. Music tantalised the senses of everyone who listened; they were beautiful harmonies of lutes played circles around people as the children played with each other.

On this day, all were joyous. Nontheless, no one had any clue what the real story behind it was. Buried deep inside the village elder's brains was the real information as to why the festival was celebrated. The truth behind it all was much darker than anyone would expect.

People celebrated what they knew was the focus of the festival, which was the war that was between a coven of cursed men and woman, and the human towns that were affected. The war began long after a dradful incident. It was a tragic tale that most children carried knowledge of as it was mentioned in many stories: the storm of the cursed.

For twelve days, the festival resumed. People far away came to towns all over to taste the liquor and food that was provided. The village's elders understood why it was celebrated for twelve days. It was twelve days of celebrating in rememberance of the hell that people went through many years ago during the war.

The war began after a deadly storm his the towns and cursed the people; it turned family on family and friend on friend. Magic changed everything! It transformed the purest most peaceful souls into merciless savages. All people knew was that on a quiet night in the first month of the year, grey coloured smog covered the land, sending down rain filled with unknown magic; a curse no one had expected upon such a peaceful land. It sent everything into complete turmoil. No one knew where it came from. But, at the time, they wished deep in their hearts it had never happened. People that were not cursed say the world is a better place now, but those people don't understand the cursed; how could they?

"Storm!" A man screeched at the top of his lungs. He ran up the tower to ring the warning bell; the people must be warned. "Stay inside your homes!" He called down once again. He watch how people were frantically running around, and pushing past each other in desperate attempt to find their homes. Storms were dangerous here; they were rare and when they came, people knew what terrors were ahead of them.

The man just watched helplessly from the top of his post as thick grey smog was travelling towards the unprepared town. As the man gazed into the sky, he saw that the storm was different to any they had come across. The smog had hit the town like a ton of bricks, and surrounded the houses where people hid in dense black coatings. The man began to notice that the smog was slowly covering his body. He began to feel a stinging sensation crawl all over his body. He was appalled to feel the soot and dust falling from the sky into his palms; they stung like fire and flickered in his hands, burning his skin with every drop that fell from the blackened sky.

Stumbling, pain penetrated his skin and every fibre of his being. He pressed through the pain; he, like the other town folk, had to get to safety. He climbed down the wooden steps as fast as he could, wincing in pain as splinters covered his palms.

As harsh as life is, he did not expect what he saw when he got to the last step: a wild town in chaos. The pain paralysed a many people and left them crying in agony. The man stayed in the shelter of the wooden ledge over his head. Little scraps of the ash dropped aimlessly over his body, but it didn't matter; pain was the least of the problems he would soon face.

Piercing screams filled the ears of the man. He recognised it. His sister! "Petra!" He called out, his skin burning from the ash that covered his clothes. But, it didn't matter, the well being of his sister meant far more to him than his own life. "Petra, where are you?" He began to look more clearly around the people that ran and cowered in the shadows, noticing their skittish attitudes. "Petra!" The man called out once more, until a woman in a white frock ran into his burned arms. Her face stained with tears. "Petra, are you okay?" She clung to him, her whole body shaking frantically."What's wrong?"

"People." She managed to choke out under streams of hot sticky tears as she dug her nails further into his clothes, "They're changing and glowing. Demons have taken over their bodies." She stuttered. Looking up to her older brother, she released the hold she had on him and took a step back.

"Maynard, you're glowing!" She stammered out, fear defining her face. His chest was glowing an intense shade of gold. He looked at her, knowing that she was horrified of him; her expression said it all.

"Petra, help me!" He screamed as ash fell across his uncovered arm. But she just stared at him, not moving a muscle to aid him. "I'm your brother."

She shook her head. "You are a demon." She whispered and stepped away from him in horror. A lone tear trickled down his face. He wiped it off and began to run, avoiding everything and everyone in his path; he tried with all his might to avoid the glow, but it followed his every move. He stopped to notice people around him that were glowing in different colours. People who weren't glowing feared and ran from the people who were. Everyone was terrified and confused.

The guard began to panic, and a rock began to levitate in front of him; he moved his hand slowly, and it moved with him. He realised that he gained a power. He moved it from side to side and began to calm down. It was like a missing part of him. Whatever the storm did, it gave him this ability.

"Stop what you are enacting!" A man growled from afar. Looking around, Maynard saw that he attracted quite an angry audience. "Monster!" they were shouting at him. Dropping the rock, Maynard ran for his life. People ran after him with sticks and pitch forks. The town had become medieval in their methods. "Kill the beasts!" Their bloodthirsty yells filled the night. Maynard sprinted down the road, grabbing as many people like him by the arms as he passed; he tried getting them away from the hunters.

"Kill the beasts!" All the way through the night, as they ran out of the towns and chased after the cursed men and woman. "Kill them all!" Thekept searching!

Then Maynard heard two words he would learn to hate with the purest of passions: "Kill Maynard!" He heard his murderous sister shout. She considered him an evil being, and not her brother. As far as she was concerned, her brother was dead and the demon inside him was holding his spirit hostage. She would kill him to set him free.

It was the start of a fued between the cursed and non cursed. There was confusion and all people knew from that day on was war; it had only just begun. The powers of Ice, Earth, Fire and Water were inside these people, and they hardly knew it. Yet.

Nobody had known who or where the storm came from. For earlier that night, a woman fuelled with revenge visited her husband's graveside, and there the storm of the cursed was born.

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