Read Online Rebellion by J. D. Netto - Free Book Online
Authors: J. D. Netto
Tags: Fantasy
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giving in to despair. I felt the razor-sharp rocks touch the palms of my hands as they trailed the cold roof of the cave, trying to find an escape.
A loud roar resounded as a bright scarlet light flashed throughout the place. I was quick to see that the creature had ascended from the lagoon, its body positioned for a final strike. I plunged down, causing the creature to strike its odd-looking skull against the roof of the cave. In an instant, rocks rained down, creating a massive crater above me and revealing the white landscape. Flurries of snow made their way inside the cave.
With painful groans, the creature recoiled back to the bottom of the cave, slithering its way into the cold waters of the lagoon.
With all the strength I could muster, I made my way out. The frigid wind brushed on my face as I ascended toward the gray skies. In haste, I surveyed the landscape, trying to find the well that had led us to the cave, but it was nowhere in sight. I struggled to fly through the snowstorm, but my eyes failed to see through the thick curtain of white. I used the back of my hand to wipe the blood that oozed from the wound on my forehead.
The sounds of drums echoed in the air once more. I wondered where they were coming from. They seemed to be all around me, but I could not be sure of their exact location.
It was at this moment that my mind recalled the Wastelands of Tristar, the red sand of the deserted landscape, the scarlet sky painted with silver stars—the emptiness of not knowing whether I would ever leave that place. I recalled the foul shadowed creatures that tortured me as I strolled around the lonely hills.
I have not returned to die here, I thought, filling my mind with memories that brought me strength. I remembered the Creator; Raziel informing me that Death had been conquered; Demetre being brought back to life along with me; the men of Aloisio that had aided us in the Battle of Justicia.
No matter how intensely Lucifer’s army plotted against me, I knew it was my duty to overcome all their evil schemes.
With a great struggle, I landed in front of the old door of the castle. As my legs sank deep into the soft snow, I stood still for a couple of seconds in an attempt to regain some of my strength. Flying still took its toll on my human body. I felt the stinging pain coming from my hands and my head; my wounds dripped with blood.
The high towers of the castle were hidden by the storm. My wings retracted under my skin as I opened the door.
Once inside, I discovered that the torches that had been scattered with great precision throughout the hall no longer burned; an eerie silence lingered in the air. My eyes absorbed the sight of the countless bodies of Bellatorian soldiers scattered on the floor like mere objects. Blood flowed from their wounds; their golden suits of armor were reduced to shards. Human limbs hung from the chandeliers.
Anger stirred within me. I made my way among the bodies, trying my best not to touch them. The canvases lay broken, their pieces spread across the somber hall. I felt as though the sub-zero breeze that blew through the cracks in the windows could touch my bones.
There was fear in me that the worst had happened to my companions. I struggled to make my way up the staircase once I saw all the decapitated corpses piled on top of each other. I tried to capture the last image these men had seen before they died, but none appeared in my mind. I sighed in frustration as a feeling of impotence tried to find its way inside of me. With every step I took, the soles of my boots touched the blood that covered the ground like a long scarlet rug.
The hall that led to the throne room sat in darkness. Flags with the emblem of the white dragon lay on the floor, torn and smeared with blood.
Ahead of me, amidst the destruction, was a man resting on a chair. He had his head bowed. In his hands, he held the head of a soldier; the skin around the soldier’s neck had been ripped from his body.
A loud roar resounded as a bright scarlet light flashed throughout the place. I was quick to see that the creature had ascended from the lagoon, its body positioned for a final strike. I plunged down, causing the creature to strike its odd-looking skull against the roof of the cave. In an instant, rocks rained down, creating a massive crater above me and revealing the white landscape. Flurries of snow made their way inside the cave.
With painful groans, the creature recoiled back to the bottom of the cave, slithering its way into the cold waters of the lagoon.
With all the strength I could muster, I made my way out. The frigid wind brushed on my face as I ascended toward the gray skies. In haste, I surveyed the landscape, trying to find the well that had led us to the cave, but it was nowhere in sight. I struggled to fly through the snowstorm, but my eyes failed to see through the thick curtain of white. I used the back of my hand to wipe the blood that oozed from the wound on my forehead.
The sounds of drums echoed in the air once more. I wondered where they were coming from. They seemed to be all around me, but I could not be sure of their exact location.
It was at this moment that my mind recalled the Wastelands of Tristar, the red sand of the deserted landscape, the scarlet sky painted with silver stars—the emptiness of not knowing whether I would ever leave that place. I recalled the foul shadowed creatures that tortured me as I strolled around the lonely hills.
I have not returned to die here, I thought, filling my mind with memories that brought me strength. I remembered the Creator; Raziel informing me that Death had been conquered; Demetre being brought back to life along with me; the men of Aloisio that had aided us in the Battle of Justicia.
No matter how intensely Lucifer’s army plotted against me, I knew it was my duty to overcome all their evil schemes.
With a great struggle, I landed in front of the old door of the castle. As my legs sank deep into the soft snow, I stood still for a couple of seconds in an attempt to regain some of my strength. Flying still took its toll on my human body. I felt the stinging pain coming from my hands and my head; my wounds dripped with blood.
The high towers of the castle were hidden by the storm. My wings retracted under my skin as I opened the door.
Once inside, I discovered that the torches that had been scattered with great precision throughout the hall no longer burned; an eerie silence lingered in the air. My eyes absorbed the sight of the countless bodies of Bellatorian soldiers scattered on the floor like mere objects. Blood flowed from their wounds; their golden suits of armor were reduced to shards. Human limbs hung from the chandeliers.
Anger stirred within me. I made my way among the bodies, trying my best not to touch them. The canvases lay broken, their pieces spread across the somber hall. I felt as though the sub-zero breeze that blew through the cracks in the windows could touch my bones.
There was fear in me that the worst had happened to my companions. I struggled to make my way up the staircase once I saw all the decapitated corpses piled on top of each other. I tried to capture the last image these men had seen before they died, but none appeared in my mind. I sighed in frustration as a feeling of impotence tried to find its way inside of me. With every step I took, the soles of my boots touched the blood that covered the ground like a long scarlet rug.
The hall that led to the throne room sat in darkness. Flags with the emblem of the white dragon lay on the floor, torn and smeared with blood.
Ahead of me, amidst the destruction, was a man resting on a chair. He had his head bowed. In his hands, he held the head of a soldier; the skin around the soldier’s neck had been ripped from his body.
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