Excerpt of the Horned King

Note: For all those that remember, I've been working off and on some OG stories that I plan to start posting. This is a draft of the starting bit to it. I've written quite a bit more for this already, but I wanted to give you all a peak of it before hand. Please Tell me what you think of Din and Beckery!

For over a thousand years, the World lay oppressed by the might of an immortal being, whose powers trespassed into the realm of the Gods. Din the Horned King.

By the combined might of the Luminous Heroes, the world was led into a revolt against the vile sire of the Horned. After many years and many fallen, the peerless Din lay dead.

With the fall of the Horned King, the world was ushered into a bright and glorious new age, under the wise stewardship of the Luminous Heroes.

But even in Death, some still worship the dreadful majesty that was the Horned King, and plot for his return.

Such an event could mean the end of this new age and all it has wrought.

--- Traditional Summary of the Origins of the Luminarchy

There was a chill to death's embrace. Not a freezing, terrible cold but a coolness that drowsed the soul and stilled the mind. It was soft, because it had to be. If death held too tightly, one might struggle against it more.

Warmth tickled his nostrils, stirring his spirit. His ire rose and his eyes strained. Death tried to envelope him, lull him back to an eternal slumber, but it was far too late for that. He breathed deeply of the heat, the power that called out to him, and banished the Hands of Death.

Now, he felt only fire. Not the burning of an inferno, but the vigor of life and rebirth. They embraced him, sought him out, and made a path out of that slumbering realm of death.

He couldn't know where he would be when he truly awoke, nor who would be waiting for him. Hence why his first action was to grab hold of the nearest throat.

Crazed cultists, delusional warlocks, arrogant monarchs. Curses of obedience, binding seals, limitation runes. Any and all of these he expected to be awaiting him.  It came as a pleasant surprise that he found none of these. Instead, all he found was a young woman. Young, but decidedly not afraid of the hand holding onto her unguarded windpipe.

But she did raise her hands in surrender before speaking with a smile. "Welcome back, Lord Din."

He cocked his horned head in interest as he studied her honest, chestnut eyes. "Hm. My return was no accident. So you are either a faithful follower or someone desperate."

"Very desperate, I'm afraid," she explained apologetically, shifting a bit in his grip but not trying to break free.

"Truly?" Din asked in surprise, taking in his surroundings to confirm what was here. Or rather, what was not.

They stood in the ruins of a great hall. A cathedral or castle, he would expect. It was in ruins, only crumbling walls and fallen pillars upon the mossy stone floor. Around him, the greenery was burnt away by whatever ritual was done to bring him forth. The ceiling was gone entirely, the night sky laid bare to reveal two of the three moons were overhead with their crescent forms facing outwards.

"And why have I surprised you, Lord Din?" the woman questioned, tilting her head to regain his full attention. "Wondering how I would have ever learned how to awaken you?"

"No, I'm more astonished you would do it without a single precaution. No warding, binding, sealing. Nothing. You summoned the Horned King without a single thing to protect you?" he questioned, eyeing her suspiciously. She was beautiful, with rich brown hair flowing down her back. The low cut and slight sides of blue robes were just shy of immodest with how they showed her smooth skin. "If you're a succubus, I assure you, it will not work. Many have tried."

"That is a story I might want to hear," she said in interest before reaching out past his arm to offer her left hand. "Beckery, Lord Din. Beckery Harva."

Din's red eyes glowed for a moment as he studied her more intently. Satisfied with what he found, he removed his hand from her person, lowering it to shake her own. "Desperate indeed, Beckery Harva."

"Yes, well, if I had to guess, I'd say trying to bind or control you would be a fast way to an early grave," Beckery answered casually, rolling her head some on her freed neck. "May I say, you have very nice hands, Sir?"

"I've been told," he acknowledged. "Now tell me, Beckery, why does someone resurrect an immortal?"

"Straight to business? Very well! I need your help to kill my mother," she explained bluntly, smiling politely the entire time.

Din was suddenly unimpressed. "There are easier ways to commit matricide."

"She's a liche," Beckery elaborated..

"I stand corrected," Din acknowledged without missing a beat, his interest peaked.

"Do you mind if we take a seat while we talk?" she asked, waving towards the front of the ruins. "I have a camp set up, and some stew if you're hungry."

"Campfire stew as my first meal? Perfect," Din said, his tone less than sarcastic.

"Well, I would have brought you a goat as a sacrifice, but I thought that might offend you, Horned King," she said, gesturing to the short horns on the top of his brow, almost hidden by his dark hair.

Din barely acknowledged that as he came to the corner, where enough of the second floor remained to provide an overhang. Below the meager shelter was a small campfire, a pot of soup, and some blankets used as a makeshift bed.

"How long have you been waiting here?" Din asked as he studied the camp.

Beckery hummed as she stirred the soup over the fire. "Over a month now. It took me two just to find this place. I'm just glad I was ready in time for the moons lining up."

Din took a stone for a seat as she offered him a bowl of stew. By the smell, he was sure it was made from rats, among other things. He casually waved his hand at the pot with a green glow about his clawed fingers.

"I'm not an idiot, I cleansed the rat meat before I cooked them," Beckery said with some offense.

"Better safe than sorry. I'd hate to have you die on me from food poisoning." Din said, taking a deep and savoring sip of the broth.

It was always the little things that strike hardest, Din knew. The mild taste of the stew was rich to him, for it was indeed the first thing he had eaten in this new life with this remade body. He took in the taste, the smell of it mixing with the cool night air that filled his lungs. The heat of the nearby fire lapped at his legs almost like a lover, the gentle crackling a soft hymn welcoming him back.

He looked around once more, in earnest, as the rays of the sickled moons gave these ruins a glow of peaceful majesty.

"How bad is it?" Bekcery asked expectantly.

He turned back to her with a wry smile. "As delicious as I expected."

"Thanks, I-" Beckery paused and realized the meaning. "Well, at least you're not as dark and brooding as I thought you might be."

Din used a wood spoon to chew a mouthful as he looked up at the stars. "I know these stars still. I've been gone for less than a thousand years."

"Four hundred thirty, last I checked," Beckery informed, taking her own mouthful of broth.

"You know who I am? Beyond the name?" Din asked with a stern look on his face.

"Din the Horned King. The immortal that ruled a third of the world and held an overwhelming hegemony over the rest. Devastation of Vistis, the Master of a Thousand Arcane Things, and many other interesting titles." Beckery answered factually, waving away a fly from her soup. "They say your reign lasted for three thousand years."

"That would depend on your reckoning. But thirty-one hundred and twelve by my own count," Din commented. "I'm sure you're aware I could just leave you here and be on my way."

"You could," she agreed with a nod, not even looking bothered as she stirred her stew. "I don't really have a good reason why you shouldn't. But I figure, even if you do? You'll get around to killing her anyway."

"You might not be wrong," Din said, stroking his chin. "Yet, I see no reason to refuse. Destroying a liche sounds like good exercise, before I reintroduce myself to the world."

"That's the spirit," Beckery said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It'll be dawn soon. We can pack up and leave by then."

"And just where are we going? Do you have a map?" Din asked.

Beckery nodded, reaching around to pull a rolled up parchment from near her sleeping spot. She unfurled it and handed it to him, tapping a spot near the middle. "We're here, at the southern end of the Woods of Wolfhead."

"Aptly named, since it does look like a wolf's head," Din acknowledged as he studied the map with a scowl, angling it in strange ways as if to inspect it.

"Something wrong?" Beckery asked as she held up an old and patched covered sack, stuffing all the essentials in it. Despite its unassuming size, the bag did not grow any bigger or heavier as the objects all but vanished into it.

"I'm accustomed to a higher standard of maps," he confessed absently. "We're in Northern Malvia, near the Innumian cities. Or where they were, perhaps."

"You can tell all that just by that map of this region?" Beckery asked, clearly impressed.

Din nodded, staring at it intently. "You needed to use a ley line nexus to summon me, one of the stronger ones. Even ignoring the stars, I can still make out the Malvian touches to these ruins. There were only three nexi on the entire subcontinent.  One was in the mountains, the others off the coast. That left the northern one, at the Innumian Shrine."

He paused, looking at the ruins again.

"It was just a shrine last I saw this place," he murmured before looking at the map again. "You never did tell me where we were going?"

"The Kingdom of Astaban. You wouldn't know it, it was founded after you," Beckery explained. "I believe it was called Intevet back in your time? It'll take us two months to get there."

Din frowned in thought. "Intevet? That trip should only take a month, even without mounts or magic."

"I had to cut around the Wolfhead. It's...," she explained before trailing off in realization. "Huh."

"Yes?" Din rose an eyebrow.

"I was about to say the Wolfshead is dangerous. Then I remembered: Horned King. You could probably just stroll through there and terrify everything into submission," she realized with a smile. "Then we really could cut it down to a month."

"I could just fly us over the forest?" Din offered, gesturing to the sky. "We could save a lot of time that way."

"Please don't," Beckery all but pleaded with her hands pressed together in prayer. "I'm petrified of flying!"

Din hummed. "I'm not one to waste time, but I'm not in a hurry. We'll go on foot for now."

"Thank you," she said in relief as she continued packing.

They didn't say much else until the first lights of dawn kissed over the horizon. As they left the ruins, Din gazed over the grove, witnessing his first sunrise in centuries.

He placed one hand on the archway of the broken entrance, smiling nostalgically. "See you around, old friend."

With that, he descended down to where Beckery waited. "Enjoy the sunrise?" she asked chipperly.

"As beautiful as I expected," he answered vaguely as they continued their walk north to the Wolfshead Forest.

It was less than an hour before they reached where the trees grew thicker and larger, the canopy darkening everything under the leaves.

Din studied the area intently, finding little. "I'll ask the obvious question now; What makes this place so dangerous?"

"Oh, just packs of blood wolves, a few shadesnakes, and allegedly a stone beast of some kind," Beckery answered casually.

A loud and horrid screech filled the air.

"Among other things," she added, looking somewhat concerned. "I also have an obvious question; you have most of your powers still, right? I mean, I'm sure you're not fully recovered, but you can handle this right?"

"Hmm, good question," Din acknowledged as he lifted his hand, raising his index finger to touch the air. "Let's find out."

With a stab of the finger, an abyssal bolt of shadows emerged into the world. A moonless, starless shard of the night that raced from Din like a hound set loose. 

Beckery yelped, nearly falling back as the dark magic erupted from the finger tip like a thunderbolt, roaring through the air faster than eyes could track. It arced around trees and branches, searching for some distant prey until it was out of sight.

An instant later, the ground trembled and the dying roar of a beast echoed from the forest's depths.

"Well, you are definitely living up to your reputation. That was a very casual Archmage-grade spell you pulled out there," Beckery congratulated with a smile.

"That wasn't a spell," Din retorted, regarding her dubiously.

"Somehow, I almost expected that response," Beckery said with a headshake. "What did you even just kill?"

Din didn't answer, but waved her to follow. The forest had grown disturbingly quiet as they made their way through the trees. Beckery's eyes lingered from tree to tree, seeing where the shadowy traces of magic still clung to the bark. Slowly eating marks into the tree before the specks faded away into nothing.

"Not a spell, eh?" she murmured to herself coming to a stop with Din at the edge of a clearing. Here, she laid her eyes upon the Horn King's prey.

It was huge, as big as a house. Or it had been, at least. The corpse now lay a twisted wreck, scorched and marred by Din’s attack. Its face was stuck in a mighty roar, a death cry frozen in place.

"Was this...a dragon?" Beckery asked in surprise, marveling at the size of it.

"Manticore, actually," Din informed as he walked up to the body, touching the stinger tail.

"Manticore!? But it's huge! Don't they need a hundred years to get this big?" Beckery asked in amazement.

"Not this kind," he said, examining the tail carefully. It was like a tree trunk next to him, the girth of it reaching well above Din's waist. "See this? It's a silver tailed manticore. The silver-trait causes creatures to grow faster than normal, especially if there are plenty of strong creatures to eat."

"Still, that's strange. Manticores haven't been around here since, well, just after you-" Beckery trailed off, her posture going stiff.

"We have guests," Din acknowledged, turning around to put his gaze on the newcomers creeping towards them.

They were wolves, truly, but they were nearly as big as a man, their fur black with manes and tails slick with a bright crimson. 

Blood Wolves. There were only three of them, and they all stared directly at Din, a snarl to their fangs.

"Ista Famot," Beckery said, a large fireball channeling in her right hand.

One of them looked at her now, growling warningly. But its gaze snapped forward in alarm as Din took one step forward. A second wolf crept closer to the manticore corpse, taking a deep sniff of it.

But the final, center wolf kept its gaze locked with Din's, the snarl quieting into a studying glare. It was this wolf alone who Din pinned his eyes on.

"What are they doing?" Beckery asked, her voice as tense as her magic.

"Trying to figure out if I killed the manticore," Din answered, just before the wolf at the manticore started whimpering, scurrying away from the monster corpse and Din with ears pinned to the head. "And now they know."

Indeed, both the other wolves took on more submissive and fearful demeanor as Din regarded them. But still, the leader did not break eye contact with Din, even as a mortal dread creeped into those bestial eyes.

"Perhaps you are not the only desperate one here, Beckery," Din mused as he stepped away and motioned one hand to the body. "All yours."

The canines blinked, violet eyes regarding one another skeptically before they cautiously moved around Din, moving to the dead beast. They all took tentative bites out of it, watching Din out of the corner of their eyes.

Din ignored them, returning to his human companion. "You can put out the fireball now."

She did so, albeit reluctantly. "It wasn't just for them," she murmured when he was close.

"I know," Din said calmly, just as the blood wolves started howling long and loud into the forest. "That would be the dinner gong. Come, it would be rude to intrude on a family meal uninvited."

"You brought the meal, I think an invitation is implied at that point of the analogy," Beckery said whimsically as they walked away.