Chapter I: Shocking News

Read to find out! The character limit really makes it hard to write a good description... So just read it!

Chapter One: Shocking News

It is a cold and cloudy winter morning that is heralded by the great bells that are housed within the church and palace. The crisp and cold air is gently blowing across the rolling plans of the surrounding landscape. The sun is out, but it remains enveloped in the clouds. The people wandering about the shops and the city are bundled up in great fur coats, trying to stay warm and protected from the vicious bite of the arctic wind. A standard morning during the winter in the sprawling Imperial City.

A young man, bearing the crest of House Versam, one of the great Houses of nobility, on his chest, rushes into the Imperial Palace bearing a scroll. The young man is barely in his 20's, scrawny and not very well built. He rushes past the heavily armed guards, and down several flights of stairs towards the Imperial Armory. He finally reaches the Armory and hangs a left, reaching a long a hallway with two massive wooden doors at the very end. He makes his way down to the doors, pausing at the doors before knocking. “Milord? I come bearing a message for you. It’s… It’s…” the young messenger stammered, his quiet voice trailing off as he thinks. I'm not really sure how the Warmaster will react to this message, he thinks to himself. The Bear of Ca’Daith, Abbadon Sevimus, has a legendary wrath. He is known to be really honorable and noble, but that was primarily to the soldiers and other men of incredible stature and strength. He is just a mere messenger from one of the Houses, which means I'm expendable and insignificant in the eyes of Abbadon. As the messenger stands in front of the ornate wooden doors pondering how the mighty Warmaster will take the message, the door slowly opens to reveal Abbadon Sevimus, fully armored in his spike-adorned, black and crimson-rimmed battle armor and bearing his massive battle ax. Standing at a frightening eight and a half feet tall, Abbadon inspires his allies and instills fear into his enemies. His arms are muscular and toned, as is the rest of his body. His natural ability of regeneration allows him to heal wounds in a matter of seconds and also prevents him from aging as fast as everyone else, which seems to be a trademark of all the Sevimus sons. 

The Sevimus family, the strongest and the wisest of all the families of nobility, can proudly trace their heritage and bloodline back to the hero Ohtar, who became Nym’Ohtar, the Atani of War and Valor, after he sacrificed himself in order to save the great Titan Atara from death at the hands of Kako, the Titan of Destruction and Chaos, and his evil forces thousands of years ago. It’s even rumored that Abbadon is a just mere reincarnation of the of demigod warrior, due to their shared remarkable prowess in battle.

Abbadon looks down at the messenger and speaks in a deep, rolling and yet commanding voice. “Speak, boy. I haven’t got all day.” He says this calmly as he walks over to the grindstone in his sprawling and well-furnished quarters and starts to sharpen his customized and absolutely massive battle ax. This weapon was first presented to him by the Emperor, and his father, Aurius Sevimus, back before the Great War of Unity, the war waged to unite the roaming clans of the men of Ca'Daith. The messenger, hands shaking and sweat pouring down his face, steps into the Warmaster’s quarters and hands the hulking monster of a warrior a scroll. “I-It’s about your f-father-“ the messenger is cut off as Abbadon gets up, slowly walking over to the messenger and taking the scroll from him.

Abbadon takes the scroll, carefully unfurling it. As he is unrolling the scroll, he notices that the messenger is still lingering in his quarters. He struggles to remain calm as he looks over at the clock, seeing that it was barely 8 o'clock in the morning. He heaves a sigh, remaining silent for a minute. He rubs his eyes, finally turning to address the messenger once more. “Thank you. You may go no-“he said, but is rather surprised and relieved to find that the messenger left right as he was about to tell him to bugger off. Abbadon inhales deeply, before exhaling a sigh of relief and chuckling. The messenger had the distinct smell of something that Abbadon was all too familiar with: fear. The smell was all too common on the battlefield, especially during the Great War of Unity. He didn't become the Warmaster, the leader and the symbol of the Imperial military might, by doing nothing. He became the Warmaster by mastering the art of war, killing and battle, becoming a true menace on the battlefield during the Great War of Unity 15 years prior. Now, he here he was; stuck training the army, making them even better than they were before. But, oh how he yearned for battle again. Things had begun to get repetitive and dull. The people of the Empire had become weaker and less independent, and there was rumor of a new political idea floating around… an idea of a democratic council that ruled instead of an Emperor. He laughed at the thought. That would never work, he thought. Arcimius wouldn't allow it. He is too loyal to Father and his idea of an empire. We all are. His thoughts trail back to the scroll as it rests in his hands.

He laughed and shook his head as the scroll unrolled, revealing the message:

“My Lord Abbadon,

We regret to inform you that the Emperor Aurius Sevimus, your father and Emperor of the Empire, was found slain in his quarters earlier this morning. The attendants came into administer a new antidote that we synthesized last night that was going to combat the disease that had been slowly killing him, but instead found that he was brutally murdered. We are still unsure who did it, but we are still searching for the true culprit. Our sources believe that it could have been insurgents or possibly even the Elves. We wish for you to come to the Emperor’s quarters at your earliest convenience.

Blood and Honor, Warmaster

House Versam.

Speechless, shocked and unbelievably angry, he stands silent for a few short moments not sure who he should kill first, the elves for doing or the secret police for not protecting the Emperor with their lives. Abbadon’s rage and hate filled eyes drift from the scroll to the door, eyeing it before letting out a thundering roar of rage and ripping the parchment in his fists. “I will find whoever murdered him, and when I do…” Abbadon mutters under his breath, pulling his ax off of his back and into his grasp before storming out of his quarters, intending to figure out who murdered his father. He is halfway to his father’s quarters when a hand reaches out and lands on his shoulder.

His battlefield instincts reacts before the man has time to do anything, resulting in Abbadon spinning around, ax in hand, almost ready to cut off the hand touching him. Abbadon instantly stops to realize its Decius, a friend who has been there for him for a while. “Oh. It’s just you…” he says, lowering his weapon. The fellow soldier smiles and shakes his head, completely disregarding the fact that the Warmaster almost cut off his hand. “No, Abbadon. No need to be sorry. I just came out to find you and make sure you didn't…” he smiles and looks down at the ax before continuing. “Make a mess of anyone. Enough blood has been spilled in the Palace, and blood is hard to clean out of carpet and furniture. Just looking out for you.” Abbadon looks down at the middle aged man in front of him. He has served under Abbadon for close to 7 years now, becoming a very close family friend and a very reliable soldier. Abbadon liked the man because of how the young soldier reminded the him of the great warriors of the old Sevimus clan during the Great War of Unity. He smiles and grasps the soldier's gauntlet in a firm handshake. “Thanks for being worried about me, Decius. I appreciate it. I was about to head up to my father’s quarters. House Versam is investigating Aurius' murder. Would you like to join me?” the Warmaster calmly asks, sliding his ax on his back. Decius, nodding and thinking, smiles and nods after a second of pondering. “Of course, milord” he replies.

The pair makes their way to the Emperor’s quarters, which is swarming with soldiers, agents and secret police that stop to salute him as he passes by. Instead of finding a House Versam official here, however, Abbadon finds a man who he was hoping he wouldn't have to deal with today... or for a long time. He sighs and brings the massive battle ax off his back and into his hand, ready for an engagement.  

Author's Note

Greetings, everyone! This is a VERY rough draft chapter 1 for my book, An Empire Divided. It's a bit short, but just tell me what y'all think! Feedback (as in constructive criticism and tips/ideas as to how I could make it better) is heavily appreciated. Thanks!