#Aham | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roselyn-writing · 4 months

Text

When a rose turns black chapter 17

“Feelings and Thoughts”

A/N: Gif is not mine! I found it on pinterest, TBH, I never wrote a chapter this good and filled with discrpitions, Lol, Anyway, Enjoy reading!

Donovan's castle stood tall and proud, A testament to his power and strength. Its walls were made of dark stone, with an eerie green glow emanating from within. The towers were tall and imposing, reaching up to the heavens and seeming to almost pierce the sky. A massive drawbridge connected the castle to the surrounding landscape, making it seem as if the castle had grown out of the earth itself.

His servants and goons were scurrying around like cockroaches to heed their master’s commands and orders. His goons are dark-green-skinned—a bit shorter than the average human height—but no one dares to underestimate them at all. They are the ugliest creatures ever; they even put the blobfish to shame. Despite their short physique, they had bulging muscles, and their dark, menacing eyes seemed to pierce the air. Their small, ghoulish-like faces are uglier than a gremlin.

They were clad in black leather armor, with spikes and chains adorning their shoulders and waists, They had a voracious appetite for eating anything, and thus they were the perfect henchmen for Donovan. They are deadly, they can destroy everything in their way with such ease, Their presence was enough to make even the bravest of souls tremble in fear. The Virginians call them ‘Anakimu’ which means: strong but ugly.

They strolled to their Master like the good henchmen they are. They knelt in front of him, Their leader: Kamaan, had held up his head high and glanced at his Master: Donovan.

“Master! You required our presence?” Kamaan queried. His tone is deep and throaty.

His goons patiently waited for their Master to reply. The latter was sitting on his throne with a bored posture. His hand on his cheek; hinting that he is bored and exhausted from all the things happening lately; from his feelings towards that princess – or his anger towards her old fool of a mother.

Donovan, His skin was pale and flawless, and his raven hair was short and neat. His bangs fell on his cheeks, contouring them with a gothic lure, His body is stocky and adorned with a black medieval robe accented with green patterns. He looks menacing yet handsome. besides him his sceptre; which magically stood on its own, Its crystal-green orb embellished with black dragon-like claws; a touch of his own heritage, Donovan canvassed the room with his hard Castleton-green-slitted eyes. His large irises and vertical pupils are merciless and unforgiving.

Finally, his hard eyes set on his goons, he sighed as he raised a dismissive hand. “No, go attend to your duties,” he ordered in a matter-of-fact tone.

His goons let out gremlins and orcs-like sounds. but they left the place nonetheless, clearly, unhappy with their Master dismissing them in such a way.

A loud shrieking sound of a bird echoed in the room, It came from the balcony, and Donovan’s attention was brought up to it. He whipped his head to see a black bird akin to a raven — It's larger in size, It has a longer tail and it has a white strip on its belly. from the sides of his head, sprang two longish thin feathers, making it look majestic — and differentiating it from a raven or a crow.

Donovan smirked. He gracefully shot out his hand as if he’s calling to it. The black bird flew and it stood right on his index finger, Its black eyes are now glowing green.

“Nox,” Donovan gently called. “What news did you bring me?” he gently stroked its black head.

The black bird gave a satisfied chirp. Donovan gazed at its glowing green eyes. He immediately absorbed all the information he needed like a vacuum.

After long moments. He got up from his throne as he walked to the balcony. He gently shot out his hand once again and the bird flew away, intending to gather more information for his Master.

Donovan stood on the balcony, his hands gently resting on the ornate rail. His eyes, like a painter's brush, carefully swept across the view before him, absorbing every intricate detail of the dark and haunting scene that unfolded–a dark place, a grotesque – macabre of a once beautiful land.

Below, The ancient gates of his horrific castle, It was decorated with decaying and blackened bones and skulls of the Virginians. Truly a horrific tapestry of death and destruction — a grim warning to anyone who dares to enter this nightmarish castle.

The air hung heavy with an eerie silence, broken only by the distant howl of the wind. Donovan: the master of evil and darkness, gazed upon his creation with a mix of fascination and a touch of melancholy. for within this twisted landscape, he found solace, a reflection of his own inner turmoil.

As Donovan continued to stand on the balcony, the moonlight cast long shadows upon his face, revealing a hint of sadness in his piercing green eyes. His presence, oozes of evil and menace, seemed to blend seamlessly with the haunting atmosphere that surrounded him.

In this place of darkness and despair, Donovan found a strange kind of beauty. A beauty that lay in the juxtaposition of light and shadow, life and death, and the delicate balance between the grotesque and the sublime.

Surprisingly, Donovan still remembers the owners of these bones and skulls. How he could not? They once wanted him dead — and he gladly returned the favour by killing them all — decorating his place with their remains. It is a grim reminder of his life. He knew he’d be alone for the rest of his life. They’d never accept him. He’d be alone and outcasted for the rest of his unnatural life.

After what felt like an eternity, Donovan left the balcony to enter the main hall. His gaze scanned the dark corridors of his castle. Its walls are adorned with gothic-style, paintings, all fit his style and personality. He gave a small smile as he—.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Was that his own heart beating? Donovan thought with shaken hands, He placed them on his chest as if he is checking his heartbeats.

Ba- dum. Ba- dum.

His mind recalled the beautiful image of Princess Annalise, A beautiful woman with fair flawless skin, a beautiful moon-like face, long, silky auburn hair that cascaded on her shoulders like a river, and those innocent Amethyst eyes—she is like an angel, beautiful and pure.

Donovan’s grip on his robe tightened as if he is in denial, suppressing his feelings, He fell on his knees — his eyes bigger than saucers. he groaned in dissatisfaction, This feeling... It's warming his heart, Although, it’s beautiful, yet it’s unwelcome to Donovan.

He breathed deeply to steady his nerves. At last, he started to feel normal once again. He held up his head, he got to his feet, and he walked to his throne.

Donovan sighed long and hard, He was wondering what’s happening to him, why he is feeling like this? This never happened to him before – not as long as he can remember. All his life, He has been a monster and still is. All of a sudden, he feels warm, delightful, and happy.

“What's the meaning of this?" Donovan asked, The question left unanswered in his head, filled with curiosity and a hint of frustration. As Donovan looked around, his eyes scanned the room, searching for answers that seemed to elude him.

As Donovan stood there, his question echoing in his mind, he realized that perhaps the answer he sought was not something that could be easily explained or understood. It was a question that would require introspection, exploration, and a willingness to embrace the unknown. And so, with renewed determination, in the deep recesses of his heart, a faint voice telling him to open his heart for love, to accept change and love in his life — to find acceptance and a goal after millennia of dark deeds and evilness.

In the eerie and quiet City known as Omenvalley, The city known to shelter: mages, sorcerers, criminals, and exiled. Ironically, It was once where the Noblemen and Aristocrats once lived – now it is filled with the most disgusting of people in the society, a safe haven for the corrupted — Anyone who has the faintest glimpse of evil and darkness in their souls and hearts.

The city has a thick and negative atmosphere, due to the mages and sorcerers competing against each other in who can conjure the most darkest and vile spells. The city was once vibrant with colours and life — Now, It is colourless, once it was full of plants, grass, and trees. Now, it is barren wastelands, dead trees with gnarly branches, barely fit for living.

The city’s aesthetic is brown-themed, with a decaying cobblestone road that is hard and uncomfortable to walk on, decomposing brown timber-framed buildings, and deteriorating walls with big holes that can make rodents and insects crawl into them– Anyone with a full mentality wouldn’t want to live there. The whole façade of the city is dark, decaying, and desolate, It looks like a cheap and dark version of the Shambles york city of England.

A man entered a brownstone huge building with russet-coloured, Medieval and deteriorating architecture, it looked ancient and the prominent building of this city.

The man, standing 5' 7" tall, has a smooth reminiscent of limestone skin tone, Speckled on his hard-stone face with white faint freckles like handfuls of spilt salt, adding a touch of handsomeness despite his personality; He is wearing a brown medieval robe with a golden button on his collar, his hair is black as the night, it is short and neat, and his eyes are as gold as the summer sun, A long horizontal faint scar on his nose, and he definitely has a suspicious feel about him.

This is Ashure, The malevolent mage of Omenvalley, A notorious seeker of long-lost and forgotten treasures of Virginia.

The place, is quiet and eerie, and it has an uncomfortable feeling about it too, the place has ashen-brown decaying walls, dust on the floor and the tables, and large cobwebs adorning the ceilings and walls, as if it was abandoned long ago, as he scanned the place with his cold golden eyes, with quiet and strong footsteps he strolled to a hidden and secretive part of this building, As if this place is straight out of a gothic horror novel.

He came to a halt when he noticed a strange-looking door with runic symbols and red stripes on it. The red colour is as red as the blood. As Ashure approached the mysterious door, his eyes fixated on its peculiar appearance. The runic symbols etched on its surface seemed to whisper ancient and dark secrets, Without uttering a word, he traced the ancient red runic symbols with his weathered fingers, his lips moving in silent incantations.

With a spine-chilling creak, the aged door swung open, beckoning Ashure to enter. Stepping inside, his pace quickened, a mix of curiosity and anticipation guiding his steps.

As he ventured into the depths, A sight awaited him—The meeting room was bathed in a warm glow of with beeswax candles held by exquisite golden-embellished candelabras. The dancing flames cast enchanting shadows, while the air carried the fragrant blend of dried herbs and incense, the enticing aroma greeted Ashure’s nostrils.

A cloaked man stepped towards Ashure. His face was hidden by his hoodie. He shot out his hand as he greeted Ashure. Then, with a swift hand, he removed his hoodie to reveal his face.

This is Bōram: Ashure’s best friend, He is a slightly overweight man with fair skin, olive-green eyes, and greasy brown short hair. He has an average-looking face. He seems innocent while he isn’t at all. He wears a black medieval robe with red accents.

“Finally, You made it,” Bōram said as he walked to Ashure, The latter nodded his head.

“Yes,” Ashure simply replied, his tone is flat.

Bōram cleared his throat. He looked at Ashure. “We found the right one.”

Ashure had a sick smile plastered on his face. “That’s delightful to hear.”

Bōram nodded, He handed his mage friend an old aged scroll, He continued: “I found this scroll in the forbidden library of Amtarka.” He paused for long moments, and he breathed. “It was well-guarded too,”

Ashure glanced at the scroll for moments. He tentatively took the scroll from his friend. He quickly unfurled it to read it.

The scroll is aged, crafted from papyrus, and bears the scent of antiquity—a delicate blend of earthy and musty aromas. Its dark yellowish-greyish paper which was written with black ink that, surprisingly, didn’t fade away by the passing of time – and the runic symbols on the text were still there, It was made with such expertise and precision of a marvellous artist.

Ashure, with a sinister expression on his face, He handed the ancient scroll to his friend, who took it back wordlessly, They nodded to each other. A silent understanding between them.

Ashure looked at his friend “Let’s go,”

Bōrem, who wore his hood again. “Lead the way.”

The mages now exited the place and set on a quest to find the ‘right ones’ for their dark and evil ritual. In order to find the hidden treasures of Virginia.

A white room with beautiful golden furniture. It was a sight to behold. The walls are pristine white, and the floor is covered with the softest of beige colour, The furniture are made of a gleaming golden metal, polished to perfection. The furniture has a classic, Timeless look, with curved edges and intricate textures and details, A large, white sofa with golden-classic accents is on the centrepiece, With two golden and white armchairs on either side. surrounded by several golden end tables and lamps, A brown-mahogany desk lined with golden trim on the edges, It was filled with papers and pens. The room is illuminated by the morning Virginian sun, streaming in through the white-golden windows, reflecting off the golden furniture and giving the room a warm, inviting golden glow.

There, sat Sire Aham, the protector of protectors, He stood at 5’11, He has golden eyes as the warmest sun of Virginia, He has light fair skin, it is flawless and soft like cotton, His hair is blonde, brighter than the sun, His bangs swept to one side, giving him otherworldly allure, despite being millennials old, He has the look of a young man — a handsome face that can easily distract people and make them collide with the walls or columns – and had, more than one occasion. He is adorned with a white robe with gold accents, and a large vintage button on his collar, giving him a stylish look.

He was deeply engrossed with the unending paperwork, protecting his cities, helping people and the list goes on.

Every now and then he takes small glimpses at the beauty and awe-inspiring sun disc, A monument of the rich Virginia’s history — a symbol of freedom and honour. The sun disc was built to honour one of the fallen Virginian kings, His name was ‘Sa’natra’ which means: who follows the sun in the old Virginian language.

The sun disc is huge, imposing and breathtaking, with golden architecture that is flying in the air, It has two hand palm-like wings on each side, embellished with the most finest of gold material. It was like a flying magical skyscraper without a foundation to support it with its weight.

It was a fine piece of art from the Virginian heritage. Sire Aham smiled brightly at the ancient monument, It held a special place in the hearts of the Virginians.

Sire Aham; immersed with his paperwork, surrounded by stacks of papyrus and parchment, With a grateful move, he dips his white quill, adorned with golden stripes, into a jar of black ink, and his glides effortlessly across the papyrus, His hand soft and quick on the quill. Just like he is writing a poem to a loved one, the gentle sound of the quill meeting the ink creates a melodic rhythm, as if magic is being woven onto the pages, Each stroke of his handwriting is a work of art, breathing life into the words and leaving a lasting impression. It's as if the ink itself dances on the paper.

Eventually, Sire Aham finished his work and decided to meet with his fellow protectors, He smiled in joy as he finally got to finish the tedious work.

After, Sire Aham left his office to go to the meeting, He didn’t notice a pair of carmine- eyes, spying on him from a large and ancient palm tree.

The shadowed figure was hanging upside down like a bat. Due to his strong, long and muscular tail. The figure narrowed his eyes as if he were inspecting something. But, He quickly adjusted himself and scurried away like a squirrel, He disappeared into the shadows like a Master ninja.

25 notes · View notes