Necropolis (Book One of Book One) by Penn Fawn (the false prince .TXT) 📕

while en route to his intended destination.

He paced himself well, thereby avoiding overtaxing his or his beast’s energy. In time they arrived at the coastline, and the stupendous animal took him over the sea.

They headed east of the Bay of the Maimed upon reaching the isle’s coastline. This bay was the main port of entry where recalcitrant immortals were later transported to the Dark Cliffs, a stretch of precipitous rock along the other side of the isle.

Its span was close to twelve miles. The highest point was nearly five hundred feet above sea level. Its rocky terrain jutted out from the ocean floor at close to ninety degrees.

Nyeusi intended to take the most direct path toward Lucirion, which is where the City of the Damned or home of the dark lords, Shetani condemned to a life of immortality, was located.

He loathed that place, more so than he did Yagan or the Valley of Death. Their landscape was similar, and the darkest of clouds seldom ever left the area.

In view facing those who approached was a volcano yonder that appeared hell-bent on erupting but never did. The ash it spewed was chiefly why the sky often appeared dark.

The air always had a smoky smell yet somehow, the Shetani chose this location above all else on the island to have the main base.

They were hardly ever out in the elements to enjoy it, for the City of the Damned was principally below ground, carved out of the bedrock. At times, above ground, the color of its skies was orange/red.

The silhouette of flying kilmans was a common sight on the horizon. The isle was one of their mating and breeding grounds.

It was home to a sizeable population from which the Shetani aimed to select the least ill-tempered to tame, or to domesticate, to as much a degree as that was possible.

Lucirion was a hilly and mountainous region. There were no buildings within the city, but several caves, which were entrances to that underground world.

Its area spanned several square miles wide and deep beneath the surface. Exactly how much was anyone’s guess.

Those who weren’t transported to the isle to reside there in perpetuity were employed in the city’s construction and maintenance.

The latter were the fortunate ones, meaning immortals who never angered their captors to the point where they relieved them of a limb or more.

The watchman, Kalinda, plus two youngsters Nyeusi did not know, were on duty when he arrived at Ashside Mountain, a chief point of entry.

“Nyeusi,” he said. “My Lord. Can it really be you?” he added.

“It is,” Nyeusi replied.

“It’s been probably over half a year now,” Kalinda said.

“It has, Kalinda.”

“I thought we’d never see you again,” he said.

Nyeusi smiled. “You look well,” he remarked.

“Thank you, sir,” he returned. “Allow me. Please,” he said, and Nyeusi let him take hold of the reigns on his kilman.

“Has she eaten?” he asked.

“She has,” Nyeusi replied.

“Good,” Kalinda returned. “Abysinnia is who you seek,” he added.

Nyeusi nodded his head. “How did you know?” he asked.

“It can only be,” he replied. “I don’t suppose you’re here on vacation.”

Nyeusi smiled.

“If I may say so, it must be that you’re on a serious errand. I have not forgotten your dislike for this place, or so it’s been said.”

“You have a good memory,” Nyeusi, who didn’t care to address any specifics, replied.

Kalinda was on point. The place he referred to wasn’t merely the city or Lucirion, but the entire island.

It was little more than a penal colony, slave camp, and home to most things he considered dark.

There was a thriving gargoyle community within the mountainous regions northwest of there. While he could tolerate the gargoyles to some degree, ghouls populated the areas most pleasing to his eyes, the forests.

“Very well,” Kalinda said. “I won’t keep you any further. The guards will escort you.”

They lead him into the cave, toward Abysinnia.

It all looked familiar. Things hadn’t changed much since the last time he was there. Friends and subordinates were intrigued. Some were delighted to see him, but he hadn’t the time for small talk or much time to exchange pleasantries.

The watchmen took him directly toward the man he sought.

He was sitting at the head of Asamando in the company of some of his best fighters.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Nyeusi I see enter the halls of Asamando?” he said.

“Your eyes do not deceive you, brother,” he replied.

“I’m surprised as any to see you here. The talk about was you’d abdicated any allegiance to these lands.”

“The underworld is immense. I cannot be everywhere,” Nyeusi replied.

“I ask only because you never were tight-lipped about your feelings toward our home,” Abysinnia said.

“I’m not here to debate you, little brother,” Nyeusi said, and Abysinnia didn’t much care for how he addressed him.

“Clearly, you are capable and confident enough to lead and manage affairs without my being around.”

“You speak the truth,” Abysinnia quipped.

“There’s no time,” Nyeusi said.

“To the point then. What wind blows you this way?”

“Only the most urgent, most pressing of matters as you will no doubt be assured. The chief council must be summoned to an assembly at once.”

Abysinnia was silent.

“Again, there’s no time for wrangling. Lend me your ears in privacy, and before long, you’ll better appreciate why I stand before you.”

Abysinnia’s eyes met those of his trusted confidants. They rose, and all parities withdrew from his and Nyeusi’s presence.

Nyeusi walked up to him and spoke barely above a whisper.

“’Tis still not private enough,” he said. “Let us retreat to the chamber.”

“As you wish,” the younger brother, now taunted by curiosity, replied.

“Troubles the likes of which I have never seen is upon us,” Nyeusi said the moment he entered the chamber with him.

“Speak, for you so addled my mind that I can’t bear to wait for the council to arrive.”

“Very well,” Nyeusi said, and Abysinnia was all ears.

“Pray,” Nyeusi continued. “Do not suffer yourself to believe you’re immune from danger on this island refuge. A creeping necrosis beyond it has spread like a plague.”

“The immortals,” Abysinnia replied.

“Indeed,” Nyeusi said. “What