I’ve been away most of the quarantine working on other material and clawing my way through Modern Warfare to get Damascus for my weapons to show off in the Warzone. Now I have returned and decided to bring it back with something that I very recently began working on. At this time it doesn’t have a title but it’s definitely something I could see developing into a full fledged project in the future. Not sure if it would be a standalone story, and adventure background for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, or a collection of short stories set in this world, much like the Witcher novels The Last Wish and Sword of Destiny.
So without further ado, here is my untitled Fantasy project!
The land was barren.
It had been that way for thousands of years, nothing grew in the desolate landscape ravaged by the Final War. The ground was charred black and cracked deep into the soil. Large chasms of razor sharp rock and choking gas pockmarked the desolate landscape. Hunks of trees and rocks dotted the area, many burned black or vaporized leaving craters where they once stood. There was no wind. The air hung thick and dry, not even humidity could survive this terrible land. The center of the Desolation, as it had become known, was the site of the final stand where the last Lightbringer had stood against the armies of darkness. Here, they had stood their ground against the hordes of all sorts of nightmarish creatures. Wargs, Harpies, Drakes, Demons, Soulless Ones and even Vampires tried to unseat the Lightbringer from his position, but none prevailed. The Lightbringer used their sword, composed of pure white magic to cut a swath through the hordes of darkness to find the Ancient One.
The Lightbringer and the Ancient One fought, and oh what a sight it was to behold. Each harnessing their respective magic to try and kill the other so their side could win the war. For days the two fought, trading blows and spells with each other. Finally, at the end of the fourth day, they stood alone, their armies having retreated to save their troops for the outcome of the fight. The Lightbringer held his sword high and charged it by the light of the sun on the morning of the fifth day. The Ancient One using the fleeting night to charge his own staff as he prepared to parry the blow of the Lightbringer. The fight brought his sword down in a final killing stroke while the Ancient One used all his might to parry the blow. As the two weapons touched, both charged with magic, the unthinkable happened.
A one in a million shot as the weapons collided the separate magic fused and combined in an unthinkable force. Neither of the combatants could withstand the blast. It started at the contact point of the weapons and radiated out for miles and miles; burning and charring anything in the blast zone. What was once a large and fertile land was enveloped in the blast and turned itself into the barren wasteland it is today. With the Lightbringer and the Ancient One both killed in the blast, neither side was declared a victor and so the war rages on, neither side willing to give into the other.
And so, the land has remained this way for thousands of years. The Desolation dividing the two sides as if a large wall had been constructed between them. Any who ventured into the Desolation would die before reaching the other side. No creature, whether they be born of light or darkness could withstand the raw energy and poisonous air of the Desolation. That was, until the night of the two storms.
The night of the two storms was something nobody in either kingdom had ever seen in their lifetime. High winds and large bolts of lightning streaked across the sky. Their large forked bodies cleaving through the swirling clouds to briefly light up the land as though it was midday. Each of these storms started in one of the two kingdoms and moved into the desolation. When the two storms met in the wasteland, something unexpected happened, they merged. The energy from each storm fed the other and son a massive maelstrom was swirling in the center of the Desolation.Lightning was streaking down every few seconds to strike the ground and radiate out like a spider’s web across the charred surface. Rocks that had stood the test of time for centuries were thrown as if they weighed nothing. As the center of the Desolation, where the two sides last went to battle, the largest lightning bolt imaginable struck the ground. There was a massive sonic boom as the air rushed into fill the void the crackling lightning had carved out. Smoke and dirt were thrown into the air and became part of the maelstrom that continued to wreak havoc on the landscape. As soon as the storms appeared, they stopped. Both simultaneously having spawn from nothin, dissipated into nothing. The winds died down, the smoke rose and the dirt fell to the ground. The Desolation returned to the way it had been for the last several thousand years save for one small change.
Where the lightning had struck the ground, a small patch of lush grass and a budding tree was visible and it began to expand, not at an alarming rate, but enough to be noticeable. For several months the lushness began to expand, nobody being able to get to it in the center of the Desolation. It continued to grow outward and upward until neither side could ignore what they were seeing. Each kingdom sent a scout into the Desolation turned forest to find out what was going on. Each scout performed their own reconnaissance independent of the other. After several more days they each returned to their respective kingdoms with the same tale.
The Desolation was no more. The land was returning to the massive forests and fields that it once was. At the center of the new forest, at the spot of the final battle, a gleaming glaive that was composed of both light and shadow was stuck in the ground, right where the massive lightning bolt had struck.