《Disciple of the Dark Arts》Prologue: A Small Talk
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Damien’s entire body was burning: the searing, white-hot pain was oppressive on his mind. Damien thought the pain lasted millennia, intensifying further and further. Eventually, it reached a crescendo, before slowly, dreadfully so, petering off.
After having felt such a mind-numbing sensation, he was apprehensive to do anything, fearing its return. Damien lied there for what felt like ages, waiting for some stimuli to finally motivate him to act. Nothing happened.
Soon, his curiosity won out as he opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was his lack of body. The second was the tall, lithe woman sitting across from him.
Taking in his surroundings, Damien finally noticed the desaturated nature of his surroundings. It was as if someone had sucked the hue out of a minimalistic room. The two exceptions to this pattern were the woman and her chair.
The chair was unnaturally purple, reminding Damien of Vantablack or the Pinkest Pink, no other instance of the color he has seen before has truly compared. The woman stationed in it held a gentle smile, one that has persisted since he woke up the courage to open his eyes. While Damien wished to demand answers and accusations, years of practiced patient silence won out.
“Your type has become far more common recently,” the lady mused, “still extremely rare, but increasingly common.”
Her resuming silence indicated to Damien it was his turn to speak, he had a large variety of questions, so he started with the most obvious and immediately useful.
“Where am I?”
“My Domain.” the woman answered succinctly, contrary to Damien’s hopes. Next question then.
“Okay then, why am I here?” It never hurt to humor someone for information, whether he was hallucinating, kidnapped by a crazy organization, or in front of a deity, he needed to gather what he could from this person before making any real decisions.
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“I guess I could say you are one of today’s lucky 10,000,” the woman giggled and rapidly set Damien on edge. A reference to a something he was a fan of, while it is possible she was familiar with it for other reasons, it would be safer to assume she said this specifically because of him. “You have an interesting choice ahead of you, are you interested in traveling to a different plane?”
That wasn’t what Damien expected. Rolling with the waves, Damien nodded in the affirmative.
“You are one of the lucky ones who is allowed to travel to the realm of Isidirel, I am you have read fantasy before?” That wasn’t exactly what Damien expected, and this only caused further questions, but there was something else that pressed upon his mind.
“What was that pain earlier?”
“The reforging of your soul, mortals from your realm aren’t capable of producing ki, mana, nor psionic energy. Modifications to sections of your soul were needed if you were to be able to survive in this world.” Damien’s brow raised without his notice. Why exactly would he need any of those, he didn’t see why someone born in a village or city would need these powers unless they were part of a police or guard force. He decided to inquire.
“Why would I need any of those?’
“Well, everyone on this plane has a small amount that acts as a defense against invasive attacks. Think of it as an energy skin, without it the simplest application could maim or kill.” This intrigued Damien.
“So to reiterate, I’ll be reincarnated?” he asked.
“In a sense,” she began, “You will retain your memory, but unlike most, you will start off in a new body.” ‘Unlike most?’ Damien thought, ‘That was an interesting choice of words, it sounds like it quite a few have gone through this and retained their bodies.’
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“Why me?”
“Why not?,” The lady, who Damien began to assume to be some sort of deity, responded with a couple grin. This mildly irritated him but expressing that would do no good.
“Anything else I should know?” He sighed. He started rubbing the bridge of his nose out of habit.
“Hmm, nothing you can't learn for yourself.” The presumed goddess said mirthfully. “Goodbye for now.”
“Wai-” Damien started, but before his thought could finish his world went black.
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VOID EMPIRE: IMPERIAL MAGE
Eric Grayson was just a welder by day and fantasy junky by night. His free days were spent camping in the woods and reading. When he falls through a crack in the foundation of reality his life is going to get a lot more interesting. Making his way through the sea of chaos, he finds himself, with a little help from a Goddess, in a new universe, on a new planet. The exalted mage lords of the Empire have ruled for over two thousand years. Keeping the Empire safe from the tribes of beast kin and the void monsters that break into reality. A world on the edge of the great universal tree, a bastion against the ever-encroaching void. The realm of the dead and souls is far. The touch of the Gods and Goddesses is faint and growing weaker. This is a Litrpg / Gamelit where I am seeking to explore the idea where an Empire like Rome made it to the Edwardian/Victorian period. With all the decadence and kinky/bdsm stuff, Rome was known for, intact and evolved. Think pride and prejudice but the complete opposite of prudish. This story contains explicit scenes. This is not a collect slave women to bang story. This is not an endless struggle grind. The character is OP. The character is figuring out how to adapt his power to the world. Last, I will point out, glass is five hundred time sharper than steel and can be sharpened down to just a single atom in thickness. Please leave a review and rating as it helps me improve my writing. Feedback is always appreciated; I hope you enjoy. I am working on my grammar as well and hopefully it will improve, through editing. As It has never been a strong suit of mine. chapters Sat 7 pm... until the series is complete.
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