The Last Primal

Some say there's nothing more joyous to the heart than watching the ocean emerge under the golden shimmer of the morning sun. As the big orange ball slowly rises from below the depth reaching towards the highest of the peaks… It's the symbol of the ultimate achievement one can reach, the highest of the highs, the peak of perfection.

This morning was akin to that feeling. Standing at the ledges of a clearing overlooking the sandy beach, a stoic, muscular woman wearing an attire made out of a greyish-brown animal's bushy fur looked at the azure blue ocean as it sent its rhythmical currents towards the shore.

She was deep in thought, her dark brown eyes were plastered towards the distant horizon. She was still, unmoving, standing there like a statue. With the tall, ornate spear she was holding, she resembled a warrior goddess, a protector of the seas, giving warning to the sailors to be wary of her wrath.

"M-my queen…" A meek voice came from behind her. A woman, similar in physique knelt on one knee behind her. She dared not to gaze at her leader's majestic presence lest she would stain it. She was focused on the emerald grass below.

"M-my queen…" She repeated seeing as her lord have not responded or reacted in any way. "W-what would we do now? I-is she… Is your… Is Sister Naybeah alright? Should we go after her and bring her back home?"

Though afraid of voicing the thoughts of nearly every guard present and becoming the object of venting her frustrations, she still decided to speak up and ask her about the next steps.

The stoic-looking leader remained stoic, unmoving. She had a complex, unreadable expression on her face as her eyes that were squinted into tiny slits kept scanning the distance, seemingly looking for something.

For a while longer she remained like this, whilst her head guard kept her kneeling posture awaiting her words. Eventually, she sighed, slowly begrudgingly pulling away from the sight of the calm ocean surface and turning around to look at her accompaniment of guards before looking down at the kneeling head guard.

"No. There is no need. She is alright, just spent." She answered calmly, as she helped her stand back up. "Let's go back, there's no more point in standing here…. I need some rest myself…" She spoke, whilst slowly walking back from the ledge she kept 'guarding' for the last 10 hours…

"

Although her pace was steady, and she looked majestic, a bonafide royalty, if one would have looked closer, she would have seen the slightly shaking hands, the wobbling of her knees, or the beads of sweat glistening against the heavy sun.

But who would dare to look at her and try to scrutinize her? Who would be that foolish, that tired of life? She was the leader of this fearsome race of women, a being above the rest… For she was, Queen Klemeia, the leader of the Amazons… and the big sister of that battle-hungry crazy of one particular blonde amazon whose current state was unknown…

As she walked back, towards the settlement, she kept clenching her fisted right hand. A look of fury passed through her eyes as she muttered into the wind…

"If she is hurt… You WILL feel my wrath… Dragonling…"

—

Inside a mansion in the Noble District in Higrove a robed, elderly figure with a bald head and a long shining white beard were sitting in a large throne-like chair at the center of his study.

With a broad, wide smile his eyes were resting on the four small vials of dark, viscous liquid atop the desk.

Four kneeling figures garbed in leather armors were kneeling. All four were wearing a lower-half face mask covering their mouths. They were all looking towards this Master with empty, vacant looks in their dark eyes.

The robed elder callously flicked his right hand in the air. From this motion, four tiny, barely perceptible puffs of black smoke appeared and shot towards the four kneeling men. The smoke entered their bodies without any visible resistance, vanishing in a fraction of a second.

At the next moment, all four of the previously calm figures groaned and fell to the ground. Their bodies convulsed, they groveled and rolled on the floor, clearly going through unimaginable torture.

Their torment continued on for several minutes, which the old men seemed to be either oblivious of, or just didn't care in the slightest.

Eventually, the pain stopped, and with their previously vacant, empty eyes regained a newfound vigor, their colorful brown, green and blue irises all changed colors into that of the black as the night.

One by one, they pushed themselves up from the wooden floor, returning to their previous kneeling posture towards this robed figure.

"We greet you, Lord!" They shouted in unison and with fervent passion.

A tiny smirk appeared on the elder's face as she waved his right hand again urging the quartet to calm down.

"Pick one vial from the desk and drink it." His words word apathetic and cold, painting a figure of an indifferent, uncaring master. However, the eager glints in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

In fact, this was the very first test he was doing. If he wanted his plans to bear fruit, he needed to finalize the formula before the big event, whilst making sure he remained out of sight of his Master, that demonic existence. While he was instructed to not interfere, he couldn't just let last night's humiliation go unpunished, can he? His carefully constructed plans, which he spent months on, were ruined in a manner of hours due to the intervention of one annoying worm!

No! He couldn't sit still and eat this shame! He had to get his payback!

'Besides… Master can't step onto this plane for long! Since he already did it yesterday, I should be safe for the time being!' He thought, keeping up the unflinching, insipid look on his face as he watched his four newest puppets drink up the prepared potions…

He was excited, but also worried, for he wasn't completely sure about the results of this first experiment. He kept watching with forced calmness as they all popped the corks and with one swift motion, they all gulped down the dark, ominous contents of their prepared vials.

In the next moment, all four of them cried out, instantly reaching for their throats. A burning, never-before felt burning sensation appeared; they felt as if their insides were suddenly being burned to a crisp. Despite just downing a drink they felt as if their throat were parched dry, their lips were akin to sandpapers.

They tried to cry again, but no voice came out of them. Just like a moment ago, all four of them wriggled on the ground, rolling and convulsing helplessly. Although most of their bodies were kept hidden under their clothes and armor, however, their necklines that were visible showed the horrendous changes that they were currently going through.

Black tendrils, dark as the night of the void itself slowly crept ever so higher; their veins changed colors, either due to the discoloration of their blood or by some other means. It seemed that this thing… this change tried to swallow their entire bodies a whole, but for some reason was unable to. It couldn't reach further than their necklines where they eventually remained still.

Minutes continued to pass until finally, their second wave of torture has come to an end. Just like before, they slowly raised from the ground, back to their kneeling posture from before, but unlike before there was a change in the air surrounding them.

Unlike before, when they were simple mindless puppets, they still had this air of mortality surrounding them. Now, however… There was no presence, no weakness.

There was nothing, no soul inside them anymore. Only four husks remained that for some unknown reason still continued to animate.

As they all slowly raised their heads and looked towards their masters, the robed elder revealed a delighted, content smile.

He has succeeded! The experiment was a success! His plans can now be put into motion!

Looking at his servants, his dry lips parted, he addressed his newest servants.

"You are all to return to the ranks of your Master and remain hidden within his army. Make sure to hide the changes, and act as if you all were one of his men. Keep abiding your time while slowly, spread your influence within his ranks. Make sure to convert most of his forces before the wargames!"

The very same cold smile appeared on the four servants' faces, as they rose from their posture. As they stood back up, one by one, their appearance changed once again, the black tendrils seemingly vanishing, and the color of their eyes returning to their original colors. From the outside, they seemed to return to their previous 'healthy' selves.

Silently, they bowed towards their newest master, and turned around, and left his study, and mansion, returning to their old master's ranks.

'Let the games begin…' He smirked as the robed elder was left alone in his study once more.