(Page 1 of 14) Ch.1 of Covenant Broken by Jotam TorresSUMMARY: A day, a period of only a few hours connects the events that would unfold into something far more than mere destiny...1
"Day of Ages Past"
"Dawn"
Beast
Gradually, the creature pulled itself out of its lair, a hole in a forest clearing cut deep into the ground. It yawned again, showing all of its ancient and yet needle sharp teeth. It shifted its muscles, what was left of the rotting masses, and stretched as much as it could. Its wings creaked as it spread them apart, so monstrous they were and yet full of scars, rips and tears, none of which had ever healed. It twisted its head back and forth popping the nearly fleshless bones that made up its neck, dirt and dust from the cracks in them drifted down towards the ground and disappeared through its dark hole. Finally it cocked its head back and let out a somewhat weak roar, more like a whimper. It grunted with irritation, it was growing weaker.
It was time to take to the skies it thought, but then the demon had not yet carried out its daily task, the one of remembrance. Letting itself plummet, the beast dropped back into its den, falling for what seemed like minutes down into the dark hole. The hideout was near the very center of the earth.
The core was still warm. After so many decades, after so much time that the age could not be counted, the core of the planet was still warm. Its once smoldering heat was nearly gone.
The beast slowly opened its eyes in the dark and yawned, heaving a cloud of foul breath into the confined space. The days always stayed dark, there was hardly any light left here and even less so deep below the earth's crust. The beast's red, bloodshot eyes scrolled over the carved runes in the walls. The lack of light did not hinder its sight, it had become accustomed to the presence of the shadows. The runes were important to it, it had carved them into the stone with its own claws. The scars on its beast-like fingers were the demon's daily reminder.
The demon passed a sharp claw over a particular rune, it held the one thing above all that it could not forget, its name. Dislit, a dark name, one from ancient times existing throughout the ages. Dislit, the mark of evil, the title of a destroyer, a destroyer of worlds. It was its name, and now it was reminded of it.
Now that its mind had been refreshed, Dislit pulled itself back out reaching the surface in time. It began to flap its wings. The muscles and tendons that it would have used to fly no longer worked, some were completely decayed. Dislit rolled its eyes in annoyance. It muttered a few dark whispers under its foul breath. An invisible force, much like the wind, collected below the beast's outstretched wings. The bone dragon quickly tossed itself into the air. It flapped its wings in a slow rhythm out of habit really, for it was the magic that lifted the creature higher and higher. Dislit stretched its wings out to their full extent. From there it began a slow glide across the dark skies.
Its red eyes grew darker as it remembered all the creatures, beasts and men alike, that it had murdered to feed its belly. Dislit could clearly remember their faces. They writhed and twisted under its terrifying gaze as it slowly sucked the life out of them.
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