Dark Fate: Book 1 – A New Fate

Ten years ago, the world as we knew it ended.

An idiot who had been given too much power by other idiots and the machinations of a foreign government ignored the advice of people who were smarter and better informed than he was, and pressed a button because he was told not to. Thankfully, that was the last time that he could curse us with the results of his stupidity, as he disappeared in nuclear fire the next instant. But that final act of stupid, idiotic pride destroyed the world we knew.

It turned out that magic, monsters, gods and other such things were all real, only the Earth had been cut off from the galaxy for, well, ever. Like, since the dinosaurs died kind of forever. See, the asteroid that hit Earth and wiped out the dinosaurs? It was the cosmological equivalent of kicking your PC and accidentally knocking loose the cable connecting you to the internet. The framework was still there, ready to be used, but it wasn’t connected, so we couldn’t even start the game! We were cut off from the universe.

How long did it take someone to notice this? No one knows, really. No one on Earth, anyways. The aliens (they’re real, by the way) might have found out anytime in the last few million years. That whole business at Roswell? That was them sending the cable guys around to finally check and see if there was an outage. Like the phone company finally getting around to checking a downed line that they hadn’t known about until then because no one had called their hotline to tell them about it. But how do you go and complain to the system governing the Universe when you didn’t know the system even existed before it turned back on?

So, the world went mad. People suddenly got magic powers. Everyone could get classes and levels. Untold power was at anyone’s grasp for the taking. It was a time of untold possibilities.

But not everyone had access to those possibilities. There were many ways to level up, but the quickest way was through combat. And oh, was there combat. People who caught on that fighting brought power turned into warlords overnight, their suddenly bulletproof skin shrugging off the attempts of police officers to slow their rampages or impose order. Thieves, rapists, and worse soon gained ground, carving out little empires for themselves in the wake of the old world’s collapse, as no other human power could hope to stand in their way.

But they were not alone. Monsters from myth and legend joined aliens from the stars, all looking to carve out their own little empire on Earth, seeing it as easy pickings. The average populace was unable to stop them, and who would they complain to? The idea of ‘might makes right’ was universal, after all.

Still, not all hope was lost. People gathered together for protection from the warlords, the monsters, and the aliens, and from those people grew heroes. These heroes fought back against the darkness, and began making areas where people could live safe and free. Among these, one of the greatest was known as the Black Knight, a warrior who fought to protect his friends and family from the darkness.

Together with his lover and his friends, the Black Knight strode forth, and fought against the self-proclaimed Demon Lord, the man who had destroyed the lives of so many people across the world in his quest for power. Together, they fought their way through the Demon Lord’s domain, and penetrated the very depths of his lair. And, in the end, the Black Knight triumphed, cleaving the Demon Lord’s head from his shoulders.

But, in his moment of triumph, when he finally thought that he could put down his sword, he was betrayed. The woman he loved had literally stabbed him in the back with a cursed blade. As he fell to his knees, black flames burning him alive as the curse ate through his defenses, he saw the woman embrace the man he had called his friend, his brother-in-arms. The man he had trusted more than any other.

They looked down at him with cold eyes, with not a shred of pity or remorse at the betrayal. They said some words, but he wasn’t listening. The shock of it was too much. They had betrayed him. How long had they been planning this? How long had they been faithless? Were they always just using him?

“It is your own fault, you know. You were always so trusting. It is what made you an excellent tool against the monsters. But your time is done. Martyrs are so much easier to deal with than live heroes, you know. Your ‘heroic sacrifice’ will be the key to the creation of a new power, which your ‘devoted disciples’ will craft. Don’t be sad. The world will never forget you for your sacrifice.”

The Black Knight grit his teeth as he heard his faithless friend telling him his plans in that mocking tone. So, that was the plan all along? A symbol? A dead hero to prop up his own ambitions? Damn it! He would not give in to this! He had killed the Demon Lord! He wasn’t going to let these traitors get away with this!

But his body was growing weak, his powers being siphoned into the cursed blade in his spine. His black sword, companion through a thousand battles, fell by his side, his hands no longer able to hold its great weight. Summoning the last of his strength, he reached into the pouches on his waist. In his right hand, pulled out the talisman he had found, oh so long ago. It was a terrible artifact of great power, the [Disk of Dark Rebirth]. In his left hand, he pulled out a crystal vial, the [Philter of Bottled Time].

The whore he’d called his lover gasped as she saw the items. She was a spellcaster, and knew their power. Either one of these items could change the fate of a battle on their own. She yelled at her fellow traitor, but neither of them could approach. The black curse flames did not burn his equipment, but it would burn their souls if they got too close.

“What are you trying to pull? Surely you can see it is over. Give up already!”

The Knight didn’t respond. He just crushed the two items in his hand, allowing their magic to combine together, as he poured what was left of his own power into them. He didn’t have a plan. Couldn’t have a plan. All he had was a hope. The three powers met, and mixed, and the curse spreading through him mixed with them. The result was an explosion of darkness and light, flame and ice, wind and stone. All the elements twisting and turning and inverting and imploding and exploding all at the same time.

The Black Knight’s last words, before the magic took him, were, “I pray to all the gods and demons there ever were that I might see you all broken and destroyed, tormented beyond death itself for your crimes!” With those words, the light and shadow took him. He vaguely sensed his body being torn apart, but it did not matter. He was dead already. Everything slipped away, into nothingness.

But that was not the end.