The Destruction of the Soul

The Destruction of the Soul

The sounds of footsteps crunching against gravel echoed through the quiet forest as Jonathan Palmer came close to his journey's end. Months had he spent traveling the land of Arkara, providing medical treatment free of charge to anyone who suffered. Anyone who could be helped, even if the chances of their survival were low, he tried his damndest to alleviate their suffering. Palmer's night clinics had become something of a legend within the land of Arkara, many touting the expertise and kindness of the doctor who cared for all. 

Not that Jonathan cared that he was famous. That had never been the goal of his travels, not in the slightest. Love makes you do strange things after all, something he had learned well. He had been skeptical at first when his wife had insisted he go out and travel the land, to go out and see how people always made the best of horrible situations. To see mortal resilience and determination firsthand. 

His travels left him impressed, the courage and hope that triumphed among mortal life doing wonders to change his view of the people who made up Arkara, and Kagrea as a whole. Yes, they were immensely ignorant, but this flaw could be excused and improved upon with time. 

Or so he thought. 

Jonathan arrived to his homestead after months of being away, the thought of seeing his wife again and embracing her in his arms hurrying his steps ever so slightly now that he was so close to his goal. He arrived home, looking for the one he loved but instead finding tragedy. 

His homestead. Burned. Their medicines and knowledge of magic. Destroyed. Their memories and hard work. Desecrated. 

Nothing but ashes remained. Ashes, and a woman who was kneeling in front of the burnt home, in the middle of burying a locket within the charred soil. 

"What... happened?" Jonathan asked through gritted teeth, his hands clenching into fists as he tries to quell the rage growing inside him. 

The woman jumps to attention, whirling around to face the doctor with a surprised look before her features soften in recognition. 

"Oh, Mr. Palmer! Mr. Palmer, it was simply dreadful! Matilda, she was practicing magic! Magic of all things, can you believe she was hiding something like that?! I watched her close my wounds with a single touch and I ran to repo—..." 

Is the most the woman gets out before Jonathan's hands wrap around her throat. The woman's eyes nearly bulge out of her head as she tries to weakly fend off the doctor, feebly attempting to smack his arms away as the life drains from her eyes. 

Jonathan doesn't relent his grip, his red eyes staring into hers as he watches her fade away, a sharp crack being heard before he disdainfully throws her body onto the ground. Without wasting another moment, the doctor takes out a platinum mirror, casting forbidden magic within the nation of Arkara as he scries his wife, holding onto the desperate hope that she could still be saved. 

The sensor appears above his wife. His wife laying limp in chains reinforced with technology to suppress a prisoner's innate magic. Blood dripping from her body as the Hounds of Arkara withdraw their spears from her neck.

The mirror falls to the ground, shattering into pieces while tears made of blood stream down Jonathan's cheeks. 

These people he had spent months helping. Caring for. Healing despite their ignorant views. Their stubbornness. Their cruelness. 

They had taken everything from him.

"I was a fool... a lovestruck idiot who foolishly thought they could be different." The doctor chokes out between his sobs, blood falling onto the ground and seeping into the dirt at his feet. 

"Matilda... I'm sorry. But you were wrong about them." 

Without another word, fire wreathes around Jonathan, engulfing his form before he disappears in a pillar of flame. 

NIGHT FALLS ON THE NATION OF ARKARA.

The citizens of the the great nation of Arkara retire to their homes, rejoicing in the fact that another wicked user of magic had been put to justice. The Hounds of Arkara having done their duty to keep the nation safe from those that would dare channel the unstable power known as the Weave.

Men and women tuck their children into bed. Telling their children how much they love them, how they know a better life awaits them. To hold onto hope. 

Lovers exchange warm embraces, smiling happily as their eyes flutter closed. Holding dearly onto the one they love most.

Workers return to their homes after a day's hard work, smiling to themselves as they believe that every day of work pushes them toward a brighter future.

Hope, love, a happy future. All things they had torn away from him.

As the citizens of Arkara close their eyes to head into a peaceful slumber, the starry night sky shifts. The stars dotting the sky shifting from their inspiring white hue to a horrifying blood red. Clouds of darkness form over the moon, obscuring the one source of light the Arkarans had, their one beacon in the night. 

Complete darkness enveloped the nation, the only light being the blood red specks that scattered all across the sky. 

Until meteors of fire rained down from the heavens, screaming down to the ground with a primal rage. 

Necrotic energy swept out from the meteors on impact, the very lifeforce of everyone surrounding them being absorbed into the fire.

The Arkarans screamed as they watched each other collapse on the spot, their souls and life being taken as person after person fell to the ground, leaving soulless husks in their wake. 

Many ran out of their homes, carrying their children and what possessions they could carry in their arms as they made a break for the city gates, holding onto the hope that there could be an escape from this hideous magic that had befallen them. 

Only to find their hope crushed as creatures poured forth from the meteors.

Horrid, hideous creatures of the hells spilled forth, gleefully tearing into the crowds of would be refugees, tearing every man, woman, and child limb from limb. 

None were spared. None could hide. None could escape the vengeance of the doctor, each and every one perishing below the blood stars. 

Arkara had taken everything from him. Arkara had crushed the last shreds of hope, love, and remorse that existed within his soul.

And in return, he did unto them what they had done to him. 

May Arkara serve as a reminder to why life is flawed. Why all who live are guilty. Why all life needs to be completely and utterly eradicated.