Epilogue: The Wandering Coliseum & An Elven Presence
Manis was not only lost, he did not want to be found. He had become a husk whose only actions became frightening cackles that penetrated the unlit and empty halls of his wandering throne room.
They were harmonious as he danced around in his own madness. Manis had become nothing more than a shell, a vessel of madness and all the horrifying things it implies. Sealing his fate as not only the youngest king in all of Dome-Wyrd, but the first to fall to the ever reaching hands of Vaea.
To think he was once a boy full of wonder and aspiration, if grief is ignored, there’s no telling what monstrosity, or reality you’ll find yourself in. Grimace wandered the lands during the nightfall, feeding on any unlucky traveler who found themselves just close enough to the coliseum. During the bleak depressing days of boorish sunlight, rumor and talk began to spread. Telling outlandish tales of a moving coliseum that devoured mortals for pleasure.
Quickly and surely these tall tales and rumors of talk mutated into frightening children bedtime stories. As grotesque as that was, they surely worked.
Scaring children and keeping them in their shacks they called homes, keeping them safe. Before long Snow Elves, and the coal-skinned Dwarves had found their home in Dome-Wyrd’s towering mountains. Just like Manis before them, they couldn’t remember how they arrived or what had drawn them to these vast lands of promise, they just were.
Among the vast mountain ranges gracing all of dome-wyrd’s skies, there were two that towered and casted a daunting shadow among the rolling hills during the daylight. The elves and the dwarves had found themselves, ironically, in two towering mountains directly adjacent from one another. As Vaea learned of the elves presence far-above on the balcony of Fairgun-Gard, she had found her next vessel. The idea sparked like the deceitful fire in her eyes shone.
The Elvaan king reeked of potential for a viable vessel, much more than a traumatized child Vaea thought. More than she herself even knew, perchance. As the blinding sun set, the elves were unaware of the darkness about to wash into their newfound kingdom with the dreadful nightfall. As they are comfortable, unaware, and safe in their newly made beds, as were the unbeknown dwarves.
Vaea knew exactly how to set the stage for the coming day, after all, it only takes one bad day to send a mortal over the edge and plummeting into the abyss to never, ever return.
Manis, although swallowed by the darkness he awakened, knows exactly how quickly in Dome-Wyrd, it can be far, far too late. Vaea smiled down upon the gorgeous vales from the heavens of Fairgun-Gard with a devious grin, flashing her blinding pearls.
As the Snow Elves snored their mortal minds to slumber, Vaea’s eyes looked to the Elvaan king’s spouse and how he irrefutably loved her. The way he looked to her, cared for her, and bowed to her every demand like it was law. With the two in each other’s grasp, safe and sound, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s knife-like-ears.
Vaea knew exactly how to sink her hollow claws into the next king’s mind… Although to her, they were less than mortals, they were merely vestiges to her intricate plan that had yet to take full form.
Even for the greatest tempest to be born. Thunder must roll across the hills, then lightning must strike, as the rain falls with the frighteningly harmonious thunder, only then can a tempest truly begin…
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