VEKNON A Shadow Within UPDATED

VEKNON:
A Shadow Within

Recovering from his wounds was taking much too long for the agitated Remoceu. No longer being able to use his bow, he had become depressed, and felt useless, he could no longer fight off those dark beings. He felt as if he failed the mission his mentor Gri had proposed.  One too many foolish mistakes had cost him his arm and almost his own life.  He barely fought off that last Remoc that had ambushed him weeks ago. This had been his second spirit he had to fight off since his mentor had left his side. He had no idea that this is what he was trained all along for, he did not feel prepared, not one bit.  He thought he was trained to defend himself from the occasional bear or wolf, but the actual spirit beings from his nightmares, that was another story. Gri had told him he was special, something that was called Veknon, a warrior in the language of Gri’s tribe from the north, but Remoceu felt no such thing. The days went on, and he doubted more and more that he could fight off these beings, after all, he couldn’t hardly catch his dinner. Doubt... was like a poison flowing in his mind. Hunger allowed this negativity to create an even more potent feeling of distress within. He drenched himself in his own pity, allowing himself to become weaker each day, not even trying to hunt.
Glimmering in the night, he saw his sword out of the corner of his eye…
“Maybe I could end this..” he thought “leave this burden for another to bare… I have failed everything.”
The lurching feeling of despair burned his mind as he stared at his silver sword.  He reached out with dirt covered fingers and grabbed it.  Pausing for just a moment he contemplated what he had left to offer this land, but coming to no reasonable conclusion to what he was worth he  placed the blade to his own throat.  
He could feel his breath slow and steady as he held the blade close to his artery when suddenly he felt a cool breeze, a shift of the wind. His mind became clear as water.

“No… I… can’t do this.. Why… am I doing this to myself?” He questioned.. but then a thought arose within, awakening him from the depression slithering within.
“Is it something in me, those Remoc making me think these thoughts?”
If this was indeed so, he decided to play the game, that these beings wanted him to play, Remoc they were called in his dreams, and thus he spoke to this tormenting feeling within his mind.

“Who are you Remoc who has come to steal the life from my very soul? Why must you torment my every moment… waking and in dreams?  Has my sword and skill become too dull to rid myself of you?” feeling a bit of strength  Remoceu still twisted in distress.  His starving body yearned for the comfort of a fur blanket, but only the cold, damp dirt lay beneath him, his nostrils taking in it's mildewed scent with each quick breath. Surely it was a Remoc of the vilest kind whom had taken captive his thoughts.

From within, a dark presence's voice gurgled like the blackest molten tar from the pits of the abyss.

“You are weak and have failed your purpose Veknon. There is nothing you can do to rid of my presence. I have poisoned my claws and slashed them across your dying flesh. My darkness will haunt you for eternity!”

The response frightened Remoceu, he did not know the Remoc could indeed infect his own body, so he fought back.

“Say that this is not the end for me!” Remoceu cried, his eyes gleamed like lightning but still glared down, his fingers clenching the mud.

“You pathetic Abnor, your pleas will be unheard in this vast forest! The mountains will swallow your words, and your body will be absorbed into the dirt from whence your heart has so long dwelt.” Its voice smoldered as he spat demoralizing vapor. “Even your name doesn’t fit you weakling… Ha! Remoceu?  You will die tonight, thus I the Remoc have slain you ha ha! Too bad your weakness of your own flesh has brought this upon you.”

“No! I cannot let this happen! I will defeat you, you have no purpose within me Remoc! You cannot dwell within my mind any longer. My mind is not a house for the damned!!” The Veknon fired back, his voice seemed like an electric bolt to the Remoc.

The vulgur creature roared and twisted within the Veknon.

“Curse you Veknon! You are done! Nothing more you can say to get rid of my presence, my poison will take you. Even if I don’t slice my claws against your throat your end is inevitable!” It’s voice sounded like the vicious snarl of a rabid wolf.

Remoceu shivered with cold sweat, but snorted loudly, “Words… These are only words you speak with the sharpness of a knife. But words are meaningless! Show yourself Remoc stop hiding within the shadows of my mind!”

“Ha ha ha!” The Remoc grimly mocked.

Remoceu leaned his face down to the earth feeling the soil cold and dew covered upon his nose. His right hand planted firmly on the ground beneath him, his left knee stretched forward keeping him balanced.  Shivering and agitated, the Veknon clutched a handful of the wet grass and pulled it from the dirt.  Remoceu had had enough, the torment, the pain, he was tired of it.  As fast as a flash of light he swung his body from the earth and lifted his sword from the ground beside him, it gleamed from the shimmering stars of the night.

"You cannot do this to me, I have a strength within me that you can not conquer!   Reveal yourself to me! Now!” Remoceu yelled aloud, his voice breaking the silence of the forest surrounding him making the crows fly from their roosts in a scattered frenzy. He wondered where this new found strength had come from.. maybe it was from his parent’s teachings so long ago.

“Make me Abnor filth.” dared the Remoc.

He did not know what this term “Abnor” was that the Remoc spake, but Fury filled him as he gritted his teeth at this unrelenting evil spirit that refused to leave, “No more! Remoc!”

Remoceu raised his sweating hands to his forehead and spoke . “Cavaar! Safath ratha! Thaas sao da aarita hoth baed!  Coward! Face the wrath!  Thou shalt feel the lightning of my blade!”
His heart stirred, never had he spoke words like this before! It gave him a fresh breath of life and energy. Is this what Gri meant about him being a Veknon?

Suddenly the Remoc erupted with a maddening roar, twisting and writhing. It hated the language, it hated anything pure, and the Abnor language was one of the purest.  Despite knowing it was losing this battle of mind control it still tried to keep a tight grasp within the Veknon, clawing, hissing and spitting with ire. It wanted Remoceu no matter what the cost, it wanted to take him to the depths, wanted to claim his soul, but Remoceu would not have this. This Veknon’s soul belonged to the Lord his parents once spoke of, none other,  and he wanted to make sure that this disgraceful being knew it.  He stretched and spoke calmly but with might.  “Afahl casta far da Remoc! Cal halor hiart, lo a da bid!  I command you Remoc! From the highest heavens, leave my body!”
Winds shifted as some of his energy dispersed as blue light around himself, signaling the losing power of the malevolent usurper. This light was new to him, but he had lost all sense of fear. Remoceu braced himself against a sturdy tree knowing the Remoc was immensely angry and would be banished from his body within a few short seconds. His light grew, emanating from him, as if he was on fire. But suddenly it flashed brightly and his muscles tensed. His body couldn’t handle the spiritual shift, couldn’t hold himself up any longer. The violent burst of energy was just too much for him to withstand, being a human against this beast got the best of him, he dropped like a stone, face first in the dry leaves beneath.  Trembling he let out a scream of pain as the Remoc forced itself out from his body.  His muscles quivered as he felt the darkness and oppression slowly lift from him, but this was not the end of the struggle, not even close to it… This was the beginning.
A shadowy figure slowly appeared in between the trees lurching around regaining it’s form.  Deep growls emanated from it, sending chills up Remoceu’s spine.  It began to materialize. Slowly it appeared. Remoceu’s eyes went wide, the sight of a Remoc was still hard for him to fathom. The form of this Remoc was that of an emaciated manlike beast with elongated arms and legs, its hands and feet both sporting long black claws. It’s head bearing curved horns, long pointed ears and long black hair reaching down to its knees.  It stood over a foot taller than Remoceu. It slinked closer and closer to his prey snarling, breathing a fog in the crisp night air.  
Remoceu gripped his sword tightly in his hand and positioned himself, ready to strike.  “Remoc! Who are you! What is your name? Ao da namae!”
“Erg!” It screeched hearing the pure language once again.
“Tell me now! Spare yourself from my purity. Dao saa!”
“Ahg! Abnor!” it grasped it’s ears to block the noise.
“Dao Saa! Ao da namae!:
“Ahh!” it thrashed and growled until he gave in to Remoceu’s holy demand,  “I am he they call Sathmaraed, the Remoc of suffering!”  

Remoceu and Sathmaraed stared intensely at each other, each gathering as much information about each other as possible, their jet black hair flowed in the night wind.
“Your face is that of death,” acknowledged Remoceu with disgust, eyeing Sathmaraed’s skin tone, black burnt flesh around his eyes, going down the sides of his face, contrasted by ice white skin.
Sathmaraed chuckled and licked his black lips, his black tattered wings unfurled and spread out as a vultures’.
Remoceu eyed Sathmaraed carefully, not knowing what the evil beast would do, he readied himself in a fighting stance,  his sword clenched tightly in his sweating hand.

… to be continued.

-Written by ForestWanderers
-Protected by (The Art Of Veknon © 2007-2013 +)