Grandel Isle and Earth
Prologue
The Beginning
The Royal Lions stand at their posts in the stillness and well-lit night. They scan the skies and land ceaselessly. A few days have passed since the Mystics rose Grandel Isle from the depths of the Red Sea. No Queen’s Protector post exists. The Highlander army has thus far not been established. Ala’tsi, the original Queen of Grandel Isle, is alone in her chamber when the night grows dark.
Cathynn, their silver moon, slides behind one lonely cloud that seems to have come from nowhere, hiding the only source of light. The lions’ muscles grow tense, and they inhale deeply. Their sensitive noses and whiskers can detect the slightest change in the environment surrounding them. As one, they become aware of movement and a foul odor. The night fills with a purr-like sound as the cats attempt to use their sense of taste to help them pinpoint where the change is coming from.
Two dark figures without a sound flee through the enemy’s land with two thoughts, the Queen must die, and they must bury the seed in the Earth’s soft crust. Their dark mistress has sent two of the three cherished followers. These three embraced the Darkness with love and loyalty like nothing else had. Unknown to the Darkness, the feelings that stir within its inky depths are love, but its greed overpowers all other emotions.
Earth is ripe with the negative energy the Darkness needs to survive. The creatures on Majase are resilient and have withstood hundreds of years of being fed upon. The Darkness planned to let Earth simmer and stew in its own dark energy. Then one of her Cherished Ones came to it. The seers made it possible for them, three dark witches, to see that a child will be born and with it a seed of hope. The greedy entity could not let this enormous supply of food slip from her grasp.
Just when she planned to attack, three of her captives fled, leaving their bodies behind. These three became known as the Mystics of Grandel Isle. When the Darkness attacked, beside her stood the witches. Behind it, a flood of Enchained waited to be commanded. Earthlings and dragons stood in their way. With help from the Mystics, they were able to drive the Darkness and its followers back through the portal, which gave them access to Grandel. Then the Mystics created a golden barrier to trap the Darkness in its dark, dying world. When it figured out its servants could get through the barricade, the Darkness sent two of the Cherished Ones on a mission.
No iron fence sits around the quartz palace; no rowan or peach trees grow to push back the evil sneaking across the meadow. The pair make their way to the wall of the quartz palace. The dark witches slip into one of the four streams that travel under the walls of the Queen’s dwelling. Like on the outside of the stronghold, Royal Lions line the courtyard. The witches stay low in the water, and with the help of their concealing cloud, the lack of torches, and their black skin, they stay unseen. When they get to the middle of the courtyard, they scan their surroundings. The winged lions are staying close to the palace walls. Making the last of the witches’ journey more effortless. They creep, making their way up the Water Dragon bridge to the platform that sits high above their heads. They were expecting the portal to be guarded, but unfortunately, luck was on their side.
The duo step up to the natural portal. The liquid silver ball churns, much like the Darkness does in her misty form. One of the dark sisters finally reaches out to the gateway to Earth. Three of her fingers disappear within the substance. Unlike when someone steps through the portal, when the witch pulls her fingers back, silver liquid drips from them. This is how the Mystics gather the drop used in the Queen’s portal boxes. If the witches had known what they discovered later, they would have known those fingers had all the Darkness needed to make it to Earth. This evening is the only time any servant of the Darkness makes it close enough to touch the portal. The liquid slides from her fingers and rejoins the portal. As one, they step through to the mountain, which looks over the empty valley that will one day be called Saltville. The duo find an adequate valley, which will give the foul seed plenty of growing room. Unknown to them, the salt brine lying within the ground under it will suppress the seeds’ growth until the white men come. The two quietly step back through the stable portal. Over time, the clear watery portal weakens and finally vanishes due to depleting the minerals that are so plentiful at this time.
From the courtyard, the duo sneak back into the stream and back under the quartz palace’s walls. Instead of continuing, they pull themselves into one of the four dark halls of the stronghold. No light fills the corridors, no alarm rises because the quadlits do not live within the fortress yet. They sneak up the spiral stairs to the door of the Queen’s room. Gently, the latch clicks. Below the Queen’s balcony, the closest lioness detects the faint noise. The young Royal Lion strains to catch more. She hears and senses the slightest shift of the Queen’s dress as she continues to pace on the balcony above.
The keen lioness knows more is happening. Foul creatures are amidst. They all sense them, but where could they be?
There?
That…
that came from above.
The lioness takes flight.
Is it too late?
Others follow her.
When turns to go back into her chamber, before her are two unholy creatures. She has seen them before, standing beside their mistress. Both have black leathery skin and inky eyes. Their snarls stretch across their dark faces, revealing sharp ebony teeth under dry, cracked lips. They both hold sharp weapons and advance fast. Just as the first knife pierces the Queen’s soft skin, the lioness peers over the railing and releases an ear-splitting roar that rattles the glass in the windows. The witches step back as the Queen falls to the ground, holding her chest. Black venom seeps through her fingers. The lioness steps over the Queen, blocking her from any more attacks.
The young lion attacks with her claws, not quite daring to bite the foul things before her. One witch digs something out of her torn, ragged clothes. From under her, the Winged Lion hears the young queen moan in pain. The witch rears back and throws the object she retrieved. The lioness ducks. Unfortunately, the lion behind her does not notice it coming and has no time to dodge. The object collides with his face. He inhales in surprise, and in doing so, he ingests a mist that has exploded from the container. Almost instantly, his fur rains onto the wooden floor, slowly showing the swirls of blackness taking over his skin and wings. His eyes deaden.
“Here,” the witch commands.
The former Royal Lion does as they commanded. When he is close, they both climb onto his back.
“Home,” they cackle together. That horrific sound will not fill these quartz walls again for thousands of years.
The helpless lion takes flight as the Queen’s door bursts open, and the Mystics float in, followed by the only healer. On her back, the Queen pants from her pain. The healer runs to his queen’s side and pushes the reluctant lioness out of the way. When he moves her hand, he relief floods him to find the injury is high on her shoulder. Then he notices the black veins creeping across her chest. Heat radiates from her in waves. The Queen’s back arches, and she screams through clenched teeth.
The healer pours the contents of his bag onto the wooden floor. He hears his assistant enter the room.
“This is all I know to do,” he says to the Mystics.
“Do what you must. If you do not, the Queen will die when the black marks find her heart.”
“Stoke the fire,” he yells to his son, who assists him. He slides a rod across the floor. “Heat it up. Then go get some strong drink.”
More people fill the room. The healer looks up and sees five raven haired men who will become the first Highlanders.
He points to a small group.
“You four come here. Grab Ala’tsi’s arms and legs.”
He leans close to his queen’s scared face.
“I am sorry. There is nothing else to do. I will be as fast as I can.”
He looks at the injury again to discover the flesh surrounding the open wound has turned black. Fear fills his heart; his hesitation is killing her. With now steady hands, he digs into her ruined flesh. Her screams fill the palace halls, but he continues to tear with his sharp knife. The queen grows quiet when her body finally passes out. It takes longer than he had hoped to reach pink flesh. He then turns to the contents on the floor and grabs a yellow object. Easily mistaken for a banana, he peels the plantain and places the inside of the skin into the wound.
With her free-flowing blood and the plantain skin, her body is able to push out the black veins. After sopping up the last of the venom, the healer takes the bottle his son has retrieved. He fills her gash with the drink, then rolls the glowing rod inside her gaping wound. The smell of frying flesh permeates the room.
He places some aloe on her burn and dresses her injury. The men who held her down now carry her and deposit her on the bed. The lioness who protected her from further harm lies beside the Queen, continuing her duty.
While the Queen rests and gathers her strength, the Mystics and the men of Grandel Isle decide the Queen must never be alone. From that dark day forward, the Queen has a Winged Lion and a Protector by her side. The Highlander clan was born within the firelight of the Queen’s room.
Earth
Buried so long ago, the seed lay, and slowly it grew. All it fed on was sickness, famine, and brutal winters. Until humans arrived, and with them appeared death and mayhem.
The Woodland Indians were the first to arrive and discover the richness of salt hidden within the soil. They lived here peacefully from 900 AD through the 1600s. In the year 1567, food became plentiful for the dark child. Hernando Moyano, a Spanish explorer on the hunt for gold, brutally invaded the village. He not only brought death by weapons, but diseases as well. By the end of the 1600s, all humans had abandoned the valley. Man returned in the 1740s.
In 1780, humans began pumping the salt brine from the ground, now called Saltville, Virginia. They did not understand what they were doing. The pockets of salty water repressed the dark seed. After removing enough of the protective salt, the pod became more than a seed. It became an embryo. This tiny being needed death, cruelty, hatred, and carelessness to feed it. So, it could grow big and healthy until called forth to cause the destruction its maker needs.
In the eighteen hundreds, it felt raw hatred for the first time and discovered it could enhance people’s feelings. On September 26th, 1864, Colonel Giltner of the Confederate Army, who occupied Saltville, Virginia, received information that the Union Army was on its way. With them were 600 dark-skinned men. When the word spread through the ranks, a seed of hate bloomed. The embryo did not understand where the hate came from, but it grew stronger from it and stretched its consciousness further. The Union Army advanced during a brutal storm on the night of the 29th. They dared to travel a narrow mountain pass with zero visibility. Many horses lost their footing and plunged into the ravine below. They lost eight men and even more horses.
The dark creature feasted upon the terror and pain, and it learned enough about the men in Saltville to realize more food was to come. On October 1st, the Union Army pushed Colonel Giltner’s men back almost into the town of Saltville. Instead of driving on, the Yankee Army stopped and camped. This ended up being a costly mistake. The rebels used this time to reorganize their vastly aged army and to have reinforcements arrive. As the embryo waited for its next meal, it again noted the hatred for the humans with darker skin. The infantile creature weaved through the tasty energy. It drank it in and wished for it to heighten, and as if summoned, the hate did. It spread like a virus with each additional person told of the dark-skinned men.
On a crisp October morning on the second the last battle of these armed forces occurred to control the salt brine wells. Unknowing, clinging to each southern man was an invisible parasite that not only fed on them but also pushed their emotions to a murderous point.
The battle began at 10:00 am. Robert Ratliff of the Union Army and his brigade started their advance. At their side, dismounted, were the 5th United States Colored Calvary, 12th Ohio Calvary, and the 11th Michigan Calvary. The Southern soldiers were waiting for them. Some men were so enraged at the 5th USCC that they came out from their temporary sheals and physically attacked the men with their pistols.
The blind hatred was not only for the dark-skinned men, but for the white men standing alongside them. The dark child pushed the Confederate to where logic disappeared. A Southern sharpshooter struck one of the Union soldiers in the head. The sharpshooter then walked to the corps and poured salt into the wound he made while saying.
“There, you came for some salt. Now take some.”
The Union Army thought they would push the Confederate Army from Saltville, but that changed when three more cavalry units arrived to aid the South. Forced to retreat, the Union armies left their wounded and dead behind. Several of the severely wound 5th USCC attempted to withdraw, for they had witnessed enough to realize their fate in the hands of Rebels would be horrible.
On October third, a fog crept over the surrounding mountains of Saltville. Several soldiers awoke to fresh gunfire. They rose from their beds and went to aid their fellow soldiers, thinking the Union Army had returned. Instead, they found themselves amid a massacre. The Southern soldiers, who were most susceptible to the embryo’s wants, flooded the battlefield from the day before and were executing wounded, unarmed, white and dark-skinned men. They located the few who were taken prisoner on the second at the field hospital. Their fate mirrored the others. Once away from Saltville, Virginia, most were discussed by their actions.
The dark child pushed one into madness, Champ Ferguson. When he deserted Saltville, what the hidden child put in his heart never died. A friend who was more like family joined the Yankee side and also stood on the battlefield in Saltville. Ferguson sought him out. He found Lieutenant Elza C. Smith in one of the hospital beds, barely conscious. Ferguson lifted his gun and pulled the trigger three times before it finally discharged and ended Smith’s life. Ferguson alone paid for the murders. October 20th, 1865, they hanged him for his crimes.
It ate…
It grew…
In the early 1900s, it finds that it can flex itself and move the crust above it. With the help of humanity’s greediness and carelessness of stripping the Earth of its minerals below and its plant life above, the being can cause destruction in the streets of Saltville. The creature causes mudslides, sinkholes, and it even derails a train.
It eats…
It grows…
In the year 1917, a tornado ripped through Saltville, causing damage and loss of life.
It eats…
It grows…
On December 24th, 1924, the dark creature reached out and found a man who lost his job. It pushed his fury, and on Christmas Eve, the man blew up the company’s muck dam. A lime sludge wave a hundred feet high and three hundred feet wide slid into the small valley that the embryo called home. The flood hit the almost empty community of Palmertown full force. One of the many homes below the dam was having a Christmas party. The sludge submerged the house, and some attendees lost their lives. Nineteen died that day. Of those, eleven were less than thirteen in age.
A group of townsmen suffered chemical burns while rescuing the few survivors and retrieving the bodies of the ones who did not. They receive scars that will forever remind them of that terrible day.
The alkaline mix contaminates the ground and a nearby stream. The dark child now has decades of food. Not only is the surrounding land damaged, but it afflicts the town itself. From that point until the present generation, a multitude of illnesses has plagued the population of Saltville. The debris and chemicals were swept down the North Fork River, affecting many towns and an uncounted number of people due to eating the fish killed by the chemicals.
It feeds and feeds.
It grows and grows.
The dark child spreads into abandoned mines, filling them and shifting the surrounding earth. A hole opened under the North Fork River at 2:00 pm on October 14th, 1947. The river disappeared for thirty-nine hours while it filled the mine.
It feeds and feeds and feeds.
It grows and grows and grows.
People hurt people. People hurt themselves. People damage and slowly kill the Earth. Pain, hate, death, and devastation nourish the dark being that hides under the feet of the town.
It feeds.
It grows.
It searches for its next meal and finds it on the Northwood High School football field. Sounds of people’s cheers, shouting, and laughter drift down to the part of it that sits there. It pushes upward, and a little dirt falls from above.
