|The Dark Lord
Author: graffiti-skies PM
he was the Dark Lord, overthrowing his Elven Brothers and ruling the world. but, what was it tht led him to do it? what is it that he felt?Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy - Words: 2,380 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 1 - Published: 04-24-05 - id: 1894578
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The Dark Lord
A wave of darkness swept over the universe as the era of the Dark Lord began. It was a battle none can forget for it brought about the downfall of the Elven Lords, much to the surprise of even the Angels in heaven. One again the Dark Lord proved to be no normal power hungry mortal, for overthrowing the Elven Lords was no joke and had been so far impossible, but the Dark Lord had acquired so much power over his years of isolation that no mortal or elf could surpass him in power and greed. Secrecy had been his weapon, for all his actions to gather power was done in the shadows and not a soul even knew he was still alive. Even the Elven Lords, who knew he would get his revenge, weren't prepared for the sudden declaration of war, and were thus pushed into a war they were unprepared for. Thus the whole world was surrendered to the Dark Lord and now he had the power to destroy the world in any way to suit his tune.
No one knew the exact origin of the Dark Lord, but it was said he was the last of the Elven Lords, having gone bad because he was constantly pushed into the periphery as compared to his older Elven brothers. This was the only explanation that could be found for his extra powerful supernatural powers, but it needn't be the real truth. Some believed the Dark Lord was actually an alien whose main goal was to take over the universe, but there was absolutely no evidence supporting this theory. Some of the other theories were a lot more bizarre though, like a rumor from Yorktown spread that the Dark Lord was in fact the Loch Ness Monster in disguise, but the eccentricity of the theory only brought ears of laughter to those who heard it. The first theory was by far the most accepted theory for it was the easiest to believe and it was whispered that the Elven Lords once spoke of the Dark lord as their "dear baby brother". If this was true, then the Elven Lords had terribly underestimated their youngest brother's powers for it was now his fault that they had finally met their downfall.
The Dark Lord hovered from one side to the other in his huge room, made of platinum and silver gold. His black tissue robe had threads of red metal from the Volcano of Fire woven into it, enhancing his evil red eyes to make them look even worse than they normally did. His red eyes had a hint of blue in them, which gave them the look of fiery beads of flame. He was extremely pale without even a hint of color on his cheeks. He had long bony fingers, which had such little flesh on them that one could easily mistake them to be bones. His hair was jet black with streaks of red init and it was spiked up to boost his evil look. Most mortals found it impossible to look at him, for is powers gave him a blinding energy, demanding them to either turn away or lose their eyes forever.
Tonight, just a month after the downfall of the reign of the Elven Lords, the Dark Lord paced from one side to the other in his room. He was angry and anxious, an angry flame burned in his power hungry eyes, his black heart was on fire, as he looked into his crystal ball searching out the truth and the lies. He had spared his Elven brothers for a reason, and the reason was not for them to find each other and start a conspiracy against him, to overthrow his dark throne. His men had failed him once again by not having ruined his Elven brothers' minds forever, wiping out their memories and turning them into lunatics for life. His fury was so great that the most horrifying of all tempests was bring down its wrath on the rest of the world, killing thousands of innocent souls.
The Dark Lord had been enjoying his powers to the fullest, getting all the riches, taking more than he could give back. He was not only exploiting this financial aspect, but also exploiting the men, elves, and Mother Earth as well. Yet today the Dark Lord was deep in thought, why did he take over the world from his Elven brothers in the first place, what did he want to achieve? He had been power hungry, greedy for the world's wealth, but more than this, he wanted to prove to his brothers that he was just as good as them, if not better. On thinking some more, he realized his fight was mainly to prove he was just as powerful as the Elven Lords, to rebel against them and prove to them that he wasn't just their baby brother. All his centuries of live came back to him as he remembered how his Elven brothers tired to overshadow him and how they never let him do any of the important things to run the world, but generally gave him lowly errands to run as if he was their servant boy. The Dark Lord smirked at his centuries of memories for now he had put them in their proper places.
The Dark Lord hadn't always been evil, and it is said he was the sweetest child and the wisest youth ever born in the world, even more so than his older brothers. His only fault was his pride, and his pride led to arrogance and a power craze. He felt superior to all, but his brothers treated him as an inferior, and this he couldn't take anymore. His first rebellion didn't hurt his Elven brothers much, for they were far better learned when it came to magic and government. It was his second rebellion, which gave him the name of "The Dark Lord", for it was this war that left the Elven Lords shaken up but not broken. It was also this rebellion which made the Dark Lord realize his true potential, for he realized if he spent enough time on learning and gaining power, he would easily be able to overthrow the Elven Lords. It was his third rebellion, the final and the strongest of any rebellion which ever took place in the whole universe, which handed him the throne and hrew out the Elven Lords, leaving them almost powerless.
Today the Dark Lord looked into his crystal ball and pondered over whether what he had done was right or not. He gazed into the crystal ball and saw the Boulevard of Broken Dreams, dull, grey, lifeless, and depressing as it had always been. There had been a time when this Boulevard of Broken Dreams had been his home, his refuge as he watched all his dreams crumbling into a pile of black ash. It was called the Boulevard of Broken Dreams because it was this avenue where if one searched hard enough, they could find their long lost broken dreams. In spite of this specialty, few ever went there in search of their dreams for they would have to give up something of great importance to them in return of their rebuilt dreams. The Dark Lord wandered on the empty street, all alone, searching, searching, but finding nothing at first. Just when he was about to give up, just when he fell to the ground utterly broken in soul, the miracle of the Boulevard of Broken Dreams took place, giving him more power than anyone of any elf could ever have. Thus he rose and posed his final attack on the Elven Lords, overthrowing them all in a special burst of power.
The Dark Lord knew not what price he had to pay to overthrow his brothers, but he knew he would have a terrible end when the time came. He looked into his crystal ball again and saw the burning barren battlefields. He saw all the destruction his war had caused. He saw his beautiful silver tree burning up in a blue flame and his evil black heart wept. Slain men, elves, and dark creatures were scattered all over the Battlefields of Romania. There was a burning mound of bodies in the City of the Forgotten, and the very rivers had become rivers of blood and bodily fluids. He saw the blood and death, yet all that mattered to him was his victory. After all, how did the death of millions matter to him as long as he was alive? Deep down inside even his evil heart, he knew that his soul ached seeing so much destruction and bloodshed. He knew the innocent shouldn't have to pay for his revenge, his sudden urge of power to prove to this brothers that was just as good as them. Then it hit him, in return for his dreams, he had paid a heavy price. He was given a caring heart, which was a curse for an Evil Lord like him. How could a Dark Lord feel grief watching the world fall apart?
Black tears rolled down the Dark Lord's face, permanently scarring what ever the tears dropped on. The tears burned his skin like acid would, yet he couldn't control himself. He took a final look in his crystal ball and what he saw overwhelmed him with grief. His three Elven brothers, wounded and beaten up, wearing rags in place of their once divine silver robes. Just an hour ago this same vision brought him anger, but now it brought him pain. His oldest brother was badly wounded, chances of his survival were low. Broken bones, infected wounds, and a case of a feverish fit. His other two brothers were in search for medicinal herbs to help cure the wounded Lord, but all went in vain for there were hardly any herbs left in the world thanks to the meaningless war. In a feverish fit, the mightiest Elven Lord coughed up blood, gallons and gallons of the red liquid flowed out of his mouth as he lay on the ground clutching his broken ribs to ease the pain. He was gasping for air as the other two Elven Lords tried to clean his wounds and ease his cough. Suddenly the fallen Elven Lord gave a final cough, spluttering out blood and went cold. The air suddenly went quiet, and the Dark Lord knew what this silence meant. Not only did he shed black tears now, but shed tears of blood as well.
The saddened Dark Lord was so shaken up after seeing the three visions that he lost track of everything and dropped his crystal ball. The crystal shattered into a million pieces and magically turned black and crumbled into black hot ash. The Dark Lord had always known that if evil wins, it's only a temporary gain, for it's an unwritten law that states that good must always conquer over evil. The Dark Lord hadn't meant to kill his Elven brother, for though he fought against him, he still knew of him as his brother, deep down inside he still loved him. His heart was blistered, his tears were so hot they scalded his whole body; his sorrow was so strong that heavens let forth a storm of ice in replacement to his blazing tempest. How could he live with his cruel black heart when his dear Elven brother lay dead in desolated, forgotten lands far away? How could the Dark Lord live with the guilt and the shame, the sorrow and the pain, the sudden vindictive feelings, which he had for himself? No, he just couldn't.
He called out to the heavens as the ceiling of his abode rose up and away allowing the divine pelting snow to engulf him in their fury. He cried to the Supreme, "Lord, you have won, my time has come, I sacrifice my new gained glory and power. Your price has been paid, now slay me and send me to my terrible fate. No longer do I wish to be 'The Dark Lord' and evilly reign over the innocent men and elves in the world. No longer can I live with my feelings of guilt, my life, my pride is utterly broken, crushed into nothing. Bring me salvation for my sins dear Lord, return to me salvation!" Saying this, he kneeled down allowing the snow to bury him and finally a single bolt of lightening struck him, forming a bridge for his soul to reach the Supreme. As soon as his soul had passed into the hands of the Supreme, the terrible tempest silenced completely. The sun shone through the clouds onto the exact spot where the Dark Lord had knelt and in that very place a bush of black roses grew in tribute to the Elven Dark Lord. In the end he had won after all, leaving his permanent mark behind in the unfair world.
At the same time, on a tropical island far away, were the three remaining Elven brothers, unscathed, unharmed, rejoicing due to the fall of the Dark Lord. The youngest of the three said to the eldest, "Brother, how did you manage to control his powerful mind with such accuracy?"
The reply came, "What is this life but a play of the mind, an illusion everyone believes in? One must rise above the lies to attain true power." Thus returned the reign of the Elven Lords, making the world much more prosperous than it had ever been. How did it matter to the Elven Lords if their youngest brother had to die at their cost? After all, they had always seen his end coming.
A/N: I know, it's a bit rough around the edges. any suggestions for improvements? oh, and, this may seem to be related to LOTR, and I admit the fact that i did get the concept frm there, but this is definitely not the same Dark Lord im talking about. even the elves spoken about are not the same ones in LOTR...