 The civil war between the Nekrabali Khaverans and Aksuri has been ongoing for thousands of years, all because they worship different deities. (Reference image purportedly is that of the War of Wrath from The Silmarillion. Artist yet to be identified)
The story focuses on a civil war in the territory of Nekrabal, as two factions - one devoted to Bershaevol, Goddess of Deception, and the other to Haekrabal, Many-Armed God of Perfection - fight to secure the Tower of Haeol in the middle of the Anghar river of lava; only to discover a centuries-old secret locked within the tower itself. What secret is it? Will it liberate the factions and end the civil war? Or will it spur the deaths of many more in the names of their lost gods?
AKRABAL GORGE, Nekrabal (10 Augury, Tae 2484), The Territories of Zargandar "Move!" Against the torrent of ash-clouds and geysers marring their field of vision, General Keshande ordered his lieutenants and twenty thousand armed Khaveran warriors to charge down the southern wall of stone-hewn cliff-side steps of the Akrabal Gorge. It was midday but with the ever-present rain of ash and dust, the sun was lost in the darkness and it might as well had been night. Strong-muscled, teal-eyed and pointy-eared, his long braided hair caked in the blue-green paint of sheepskin leather known as the Embe, and his ebony-black skin already coated with layers of powdery volcanic dust, Keshande knew they had to reach and reinforce the tower before Uruth and his Aksuri army emerged from the north side of the gorge.
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The story about two lovers - one a chieftain's son and another the village huntress - as they seek to find redemption in a world devoid of morality and dignity. Will the son convince his people of her innocence or will she take matters into her own hands? ISHANTI, Xissan (15 Urmon, Tae 2985), The Principalities of Aramyss Eoyan licked the edges of her feathered arrow and gently drew it to her heavily-carved bow.
She flicked her bone-braided pony-tail aside as she tiptoed across the soggy earth, underneath the soothing whistle of tall, heavy bamboo trees. Against the foreboding chill of a trailing mist seeping into her multi-ringed ears and flared-up nostrils, she crouched lower as she released a trail of vapor into the air, waiting for the thump of her heartbeat to match the patter of the earth. She wasn't wearing any shoes; she had decided to abandon them when she left Ishanti village, and as she curled her toes ever slightly against wet leaves and grass, she knew it was the right choice as she sensed imminent danger ahead. |
About the WorldThis section highlights the world of Mortalissar in greater detail, especially her territories, countries, races, magic, calendar and belief systems. Occasionally, I will write short fiction stories relevant to a particular realm to define its unique characteristics set against a larger canvas. Hopefully, over time, the collection gives you, the reader, a greater appreciation of the uniqueness of this world, and her many qualities and flaws. Archives
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