Rings of the Realms

Chapter 1: AMONG US

Many Millenia ago, there existed two forces. Two co-dependent forces. The light…and the darkness. The energy formed by the inter-relationship between these two created the world as we know it. You call that the big bang, right? Well, our ancient language termed it ‘principium’, meaning… ‘the beginning’. Everything we see and feel and touch and hear was a product of their ‘relationship’. Everything…except us, Humans. The only beings capable of harnessing just the tiniest bit of energy the ancient forces emitted. 

They failed, many times, to create that one, perfect, being. Many prototypes otherwise known as errata, ‘The mistakes’, were forsaken almost as quickly as they emerged. But finally, we were formed. And to spice things up just a little, the forces bestowed on us certain gifts. The light gave us monsters. Of every shape, being and form. Pretty dark for a force that was termed ‘the light’ don’t you think? But with those monsters, he also gifted us the power to overcome them. The darkness’s gift was much subtler. He gave us… a mind of our own. Something like conscience if I may. Our ancestors termed it...Kayos. Now if you can read, or pronounce… you should know the English version of that shit.

This ‘gift’ gradually became a curse. Once humanity had a mind of their own, entire realms were damned. Famine, sickness, war, basically every evil you can think of. And though the darkness loved the quality drama it gifted, the light became sick of it. 

That's were the infamous battle between good and evil came into existence. What started as a simple deliberation to voice out an unpopular opinion, became a war that lasted centuries, both supreme beings gradually draining themselves of life-sustaining energy, and taking a number of their own creations down with it (possibly how extinction might have taken place).

And after years of fighting, they both took one last look at the universe(s) they had spent time, effort and energy creating. In that one moment, they chose to make the ultimate sacrifice. Mankind was already on the brink of Extinction anyway. So, with the last shred of energy both beings had left, they forged eight different rings. Four from the powers of light, and four more from the powers of the darkness. Each of these rings possessed the ability to affect and control a particular realm.  And they were handed down to us…humans, as the only ones capable enough to manage it. And then, the supreme ones… vanished. But to ensure no one man used the ring for unjust and evil causes, a certain guardian would be appointed for each generation. 

Now I'm not saying there's a select group of individuals with superpowers or anything like that. Hell no. Think I want a trademark problem with Marvel or something? And although there aren't any immortal or supernatural beings that live among us, there are some who aren't exactly your average human. This time though, I have 'proof'.

In 1747 AD, a boat loaded with slaves to be traded, suddenly crashed before it was able to complete its journey across the Atlantic. It was the first of its kind so no one really paid much attention to it, I mean, accidents happen. But two years later, five hundred slaves just vanishing into thin air isn't exactly an accident now, is it? Especially when the ship carrying these souls was never found. After a couple years passed, it became a norm for ships transporting 'the ones', as they were often called, to just… disappear across the Atlantic. Even cruise ships began to fade away into the murky horizon never to return. Some said it was the Greek god Poseidon, claiming those souls and freeing them from a life that would've been worse than death. Some claimed it was a sea monster rising to the surface every once in a while, when it got hungry. Others claimed the captives had been set free, but it had to look like they had died or disappeared so they could start a new life somewhere across the horizon. Whatever it was, nobody in their right senses would journey to "The Ninth Continent" to find out. 

So it remained a mystery.  No one could wrap their mind around what exactly was going on. But if slaves and the rich and pompous were the ones disappearing, they probably deserved it one way or the other, right? Hell, The Bermuda, the 9th, The Hand of Armageddon, all sorts of names were given to this, probably mythical place that was responsible for the disappearance of many a man. But what many termed Hell, many more called…home. I call home. 

But I'm not narrating this to talk about how well I’m doing or the details behind our existence and survival all these years. I'm writing this because I found a, not-so-average set of humans. Not superheroes as we have already established but, I bet they’d raise a couple eyebrows

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1829

"Is he yours?" The obese, but well-dressed man inquired, glancing at the shaky figure holding a tray beside him. 

"Why yes Connor. Not too expensive either. Cost just 30 for that one, and 50 for this one", he said grabbing the poorly dressed woman beside him a little closer to himself, making her sigh in discomfort. 

"Impressive, I must say. Get me another mug of rum now" he said, without even looking at the dark-skinned male beside him. 

Slowly making his way out of the dining hall, he did as he was told.

"What's the matter? Are you scared?" He said, still taunting the unfortunate female he was latching on to. 

"Sir please" she replied with a tear drop gradually falling down her eyes. "You're hurting me."

"Am I? Am I really?" He continued holding her even tighter, his nails gradually beginning to sink deeper into her frail, dark skin. 

"Sir P…"

"Shut up!" Connor barked. Glancing at the female with the most infuriated but indifferent expression he could possibly conjure on his chubby and food-stained face. "Don't you know you don't speak your master speaks? Of course. That's why you got her so cheap McAllen, this one's slow. They're all slow" he cackled, McAllen joining in. 

Just then, a figure walked in with a large mug of rum on the plastic tray he 'proudly' held. Still lost in the laughs and insults, Connor payed no attention to the man as he calmly dropped the mug of rum on the wooden table just in front him.

"Hey Allen, knock knock" Connor said, taking a huge gulp of the rum beside him.

"Who's there?” McAllen smiled in enthusiasm.

"Black and Rich" he said dropping the mug back on the table.

"Black and Rich who?"

"Exactly, who in the seven seas is black and rich?" He cackled, both men laughing uncontrollably while the dark-skinned man surprisingly just stood there with a wry smile on his face.

"Okay. I've got one, I've got one", Allen said trying to steady himself.

"Alright…just…mnnn." All of a sudden, he dropped down to the floor, smacking the knife he was using to eat too. Like it was on cue, it gashed into his neck. Foam slowly started to dribble down his mouth, and then…blood.

"Connor!" Allen said, rushing from his seat and trying his best to revive his dead friend. "Connor! Con…" he stopped in the middle of his ranting on hearing the click of a gun. He slowly rose his head up and his blue eyes met the effortlessly seductive barrel of a shotgun.

"Knock Knock." The black man whispered

*Booooooommmmmmm*