Arpious of the Planes

Chapter 562 The Destroyed Plane

As Seraphina sought to consolidate her dominion, she systematically eradicated the cultures, traditions, and languages of the conquered civilizations. Books and scrolls were burned, temples and monuments destroyed, and any form of resistance or dissent was brutally suppressed. This cultural erasure served to break the spirit of those she ruled over, leaving them disconnected from their heritage.

While Eldoria's forests appeared more vibrant than ever on the surface, they harbored a darker secret. Seraphina's use of dark magic tainted the land, twisting the once-benevolent flora and fauna into malevolent forms. These corrupted woods became a symbol of her reign, filled with eerie, sentient creatures that enforced her rule through fear and intimidation.

Seraphina's propaganda machine painted her as a benevolent ruler who brought prosperity and enlightenment to the world. However, this facade was maintained through fear and suppression of dissent. Anyone who dared to speak out against her or question her methods was swiftly silenced and the spreading of dissenting ideas was met with brutal retaliation.

Queen Seraphina's thirst for power knew no bounds. She constantly sought new lands to conquer, leading to a ceaseless cycle of warfare and enslavement. The conquered territories were ruthlessly exploited for their resources, with little regard for the suffering inflicted upon their inhabitants.

As Queen Seraphina's rule continued, the kingdom of Eldoria grew ever more powerful and oppressive. Her dark reign cast a pall over the world, leaving scars that would endure for generations to come. The surrounding civilizations lived in perpetual fear, their once-thriving cultures reduced to a shadow of their former glory. The rise of the elven queen had plunged the world into a dark age from which it may never fully recover.

"So, if all of that happened then how come it's so peaceful here? Didn't she conquer the entire plane?" The woman who I now know as Arpious asked. "Wait, is this a separate realm?" 

"Exactly-" 

All of a sudden, the woman dragged her hand across the space in front of her and tore part of the realm that I had created. It was with such ease that it would have put even the finesse of a hot knife through butter to shame. 

The edges of the tear quivered, creating an almost hypnotic dance of light and shadow. It was as if the laws of physics were being rewritten before my eyes. And there, within the tear, lay the void – a chasm of darkness so profound that it devoured all sense of perspective and scale.

The void beckoned with an irresistible pull, a siren's call to the curious and the daring. Yet, it exuded an aura of primal dread, a reminder of the unfathomable mysteries that lurked beyond the boundaries of our reality. It was a glimpse into the abyss, a realm that defied all human comprehension… and a space that used to be my homeland. 

She stuck her head through fearlessly and then pulled it right back into my home, closing up the space and leaning back in the chair like nothing even happened. I didn't know if I should have been jealous or fearful, but what I did understand was that this woman was even stronger than I had initially thought. 

"So when do we start?" 

I quietly ascended the creaking wooden stairs of our simple house, careful not to make a sound that might wake anyone. The soft, warm glow of the hallway nightlight cast a gentle illumination on the well-worn steps, guiding my way. The house was steeped in a peaceful hush, a soothing lullaby to the world outside.

As I reached the top of the staircase, I turned the corner and approached my son's bedroom door. The soft murmur of his breathing seeped through the wooden frame, reassuring me that he was still deeply immersed in the world of dreams. Pushing the door open with a gentle touch, I entered his small sanctuary.

My son lay cocooned in his bedsheets, his tousled hair a tangled mess upon his pillow. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, lost in innocent slumber. The room was adorned with his favorite toys, a testament to the adventures that unfolded in his imagination during the day.

I approached his bed with silent steps, careful not to disturb the tranquility of the moment. Leaning over, I brushed a tender kiss against his smooth forehead, feeling the warmth of his dreams against my lips. He stirred slightly, his features softened in the dim light, but he didn't wake.

With the utmost care, I tucked the blankets snugly around him, ensuring he was wrapped in a cocoon of comfort. His small hand clutched his beloved stuffed bear, a loyal guardian through the night.

As I gazed down at my sleeping son, a surge of love and protectiveness washed over me. I whispered words of love and encouragement into the quiet room, a promise that I would always be there to watch over him. Then, with a final tender stroke of his cheek, I turned and quietly left the room, leaving the door ajar so that the soft glow of the nightlight continued to bathe his peaceful existence. 

"You done?" 

"Yeah, let's get going. For now, I'll just show you what the realm has come to. We'll be back before my son is awake." 

"Yes ma'am," Arpious smiled before I raised my hand upwards, revealing a massive door that creaked ever so slightly open. A white light enveloped us as we stood before it, sucking us into its enigmatic interior and leaving us in an entirely new world as soon as the light had disappeared. 

Once a realm of ethereal beauty and enchantment, this elven land had descended into the very depths of misery. The landscape, once a testament to nature's splendor, had become a haunting and desolate wasteland, a reflection of the sorrow that now permeated every inch of its terrain.

The once-lush forests, with their towering, ancient trees that stretched toward the heavens, had withered and died. Their once vibrant foliage had turned a sickly shade of gray, their branches twisted and gnarled as if in agony. These skeletal remnants of the forest loomed like mournful sentinels over the desolation below.

The land itself was marred by deep, jagged chasms and craggy mountains that seemed to have been torn asunder by some cataclysmic force. Rivers and lakes, once pristine and sparkling, had transformed into stagnant pools of inky water, their surfaces shrouded in a perpetual, mournful mist.

The once-thriving wildlife that had inhabited this elven realm had either perished or fled in search of more hospitable lands. The songs of birds and the calls of forest creatures had fallen silent, replaced only by the haunting echoes of the wind as it swept through the lifeless trees.

The elven cities and settlements that once dotted the landscape now lay in ruins, their once-glorious spires and arches reduced to crumbling remnants of a forgotten era. The streets were empty, and the homes were abandoned, their windows shattered and doors ajar.

A relentless and unending rainfall shrouded the land in a never-ceasing deluge. The raindrops fell like tears from the heavens, each one carrying a burden of sorrow and despair. The sky was perpetually overcast, cloaked in heavy, dark clouds that blotted out the sun and moon, casting the realm into eternal twilight.

The constant downpour had turned the earth into mud, making every step a struggle. The rain-soaked ground seemed to weep along with the land itself as if mourning the loss of its vitality and vibrancy.

In this elven realm that had descended into the pits of misery, beauty, and magic had been replaced by desolation and despair. The land wept, its tears mingling with the eternal rainfall, and the once-proud elves were left to wander through the ruins of their once-glorious kingdom, haunted by the memory of what had been lost.

The elven cities and settlements that had once stood as architectural marvels were now crumbling ruins. Elaborate bridges, once adorned with delicate carvings and intricate mosaics, now hung precariously over the abyss of chasms, their grandeur faded into a melancholic decay. Towers that once reached for the skies were reduced to mere shadows of their former glory, their spires broken and jagged.

The streets, once bustling with elven life and laughter, were now empty and overgrown with moss and weeds. Abandoned market stalls and homes stood as eerie reminders of the thriving communities that had once thrived here. The silence in these forsaken cities was deafening as if the very stones mourned the loss of their inhabitants.

The plant life that managed to survive had twisted and contorted in grotesque forms. Thorny vines snaked through the ashen underbrush, their barbed tendrils a stark contrast to the once beautiful flowers that had adorned the land. Trees, their leaves long gone, resembled skeletal remains, their branches reaching out like bony fingers toward the relentless rain.

The rare patches of remaining vegetation exuded an eerie, otherworldly luminescence. Sickly, pale glows emanated from moss-covered rocks and wilted petals, casting an unsettling, ghostly pallor over the land.

The ever-present rainfall was accompanied by cold and mournful winds that cut through the landscape like a mournful dirge. These winds seemed to carry with them a sense of despair, whispering haunting secrets and melancholic laments through the twisted trees and desolate ruins.

The howling of the wind through empty archways and shattered windows created an eerie, haunting symphony that seemed to echo the realm's sorrow. It was a symphony that spoke of the grief and anguish of a people who had lost not only their land but also their hope.

In this elven realm, misery was an all-encompassing shroud, its weight pressing down upon both the land and its inhabitants. It was a realm of faded grandeur, lost magic, and eternal despair, where even the elements themselves seemed to mourn the tragedy of what had once been a realm of enchantment and wonder.