The Downfall of Altador
This is how I think Altador met its downfall from the Darkest Faerie. If
you're reading this, I made it in my first NT!
It was a bright and sunny day for the people of Altador,
and there seemed to be a feverish swell in their attitudes. Today was a festival
for the heroes of Altador, celebrating their accomplishments and triumphs that
they did for their homeland. It was taking place in the Hall of Heroes, the
only place that seemed fitting for the party.
"Come on, Florin! Time to party, stop tending
to the shrubbery..." Jerdana the Protector said with a roll of her eyes, her
long dress decorated in dark colored cloth, the stars and moons and suns on
her clothing appeared in the typical Altadorian fashion.
Florin was a Kacheek, and he seemed to take care
of the wheat and main farming of Altador, providing most of the food for their
current residents. Right now, he was trying to fix some spiral shrubs, seeing
as they slightly wilted in the hot sun.
"But they need to be taken care of. How are we
supposed to have a good presentation to others, if the trees and shrubs are
wilting under this sun?" Florin replied with a stern voice, shaking his head,
a small smile appearing on his lips.
"You go ahead, Jerdana. Go have fun, and I'll
be there soon. Okay...?" he said, arching an eyebrow, standing upright. His
dark leather clothing shone slightly in the reflecting sun, his white tunic
feeling light and cool.
"If you say so...." Jerdana said airily, rolling
her eyes, though her own smile was seen. "See you soon..."
Her glance was towards Psellia, who was staring
eerily out the main window of the Hall, glancing at her curiously. But, she
decided to join the festivities, dancing her time away with Marek, though she
still was curious and, to be honest, a little creeped out by Psellia. She seemed
to be standing away from the party, staring blankly out the window. For the
past seven days, she was going into the Archive, reading up about these mysterious
occurrences, and about Maraqua, and all she could get on Fyora, the Faerie Queen.
And, of course, she hadn't learned anything from
it all. Normally, she was outside in the garden, sleeping or reading, though
lately she'd been having these visions about random times. The one that frightened
her most was last night, staring up at a certain six stars, and only King Altador
could calm her down.
It really was unnerving, but most tried to ignore
it. Only the Heroes of Altador knew about it, and they kept a silent tongue.
But, most tried to ignore it, going inside, a wonderful sight meeting their
Inside, there were many others, dancing to the
native festival music of Altador, in a mess of light summer chiffon dresses,
and noble silk tunics that seemed to flow and manage to stay cool, even in the
hottest rays of the sun.
Inside, there was Sasha, one of the Heroes of
Altador, her light pink and yellow dress swirling as she continued a dance with
King Altador, her giggling infectious to other citizens of Altador, watching
him dance. But, she continued, holding a tambourine in one hand, beating it
in time with the music.
Everything was just perfect. The food, festivities,
the music... everyone. They were all having a good time. All except one. It
was quite obvious; it was Psellia, the sleeper. It was beside all the others,
she wore just a simple lavender dress, and a small necklace, a purple glowing
orb. She usually was around in the gardens, but currently she was glancing out
the window, eyes wide in a shock. Her wings were quivering in some unheard or
unseen fear, but it seemed to send a tension throughout the party. King Altador
excused himself from Sasha's side, approaching Psellia.
"Is something wrong, Psellia? What do you see?"
the Lupe king asked, turning his attentions to the faerie.
"I shouldn't concern you, Altador, with my silly
visions... I don't want to trouble you..." Psellia said with a sad smile, her
purple eyes shining slightly with tears. She was trembling more, and she couldn't
pacify the feeling.
King Altador placed his hand on her shoulder,
looking at the faerie curiously, replying gently to her.
"No, please, Psellia. It's no trouble at all,
and I would love to help... That's why we're friends, we all help each other.
And, though one is missing, the Darkest Faerie, nothing could break us up. So,
by all means, please tell me what's troubling you so..." the regal Lupe said
in such a gentle manner, that Psellia had to laugh in a slightly troubled way,
her shaking becoming more pronounced.
"There's going to be... a betrayal... a downfall...
today..." she said in a soft-spoken whisper, not turning to face her friend,
holding tightly to the stone walls of the Hall, as if she might fall out of
"... I'm scared, Altador... I'm scared for everyone
here... And nothing we can do will help... Altador will meet its downfall today...
by one of the Heroes here. One missing..." Psellia said, turning her violet
colored eyes towards King Altador, biting her lip slightly.
"The sleeper... You think it's the Darkest Faerie?"
he asked skeptically, arching a brow. "This is a serious accusation, Psellia..."
She shook her head, replying to him in persistence.
"No, I'm not lying, Altador! I know it's the
Darkest Faerie! I've seen it in a vision, and the downfall of Altador will begin
today. No one can stop it... Not even the Faerie Queen," Psellia exclaimed with
a deep sadness, tears welling up in her violet eyes, knowing in an instant that
everyone had heard. The music stopped playing, and an unearthly silence fell
over Altador itself.
"What's going on...? Did I crash the party?"
Florin asked, coming in, chuckling slightly at his own joke. He then stopped
in his tracks, glancing around, taking off his gardening gloves in the thickening
silence. It sent a shiver up his spine.
"...What's going on, King Altador...?" Jerdana
asked, her Aisha-like ears swiveling slightly, trying to catch any sounds that
might hint anything. But, nothing happened. Just a pregnant silence, that seemed
to be growing and growing.
"...Close all the doors... Keep everyone inside..."
King Altador barked out to the guards at the doors, a slight panic seeming to
rise inside the Hall of Heroes.
"Is this about Psellia's you-know-what, Altador?"
Gordos asked, rolling his eyes in a sarcasm.
"No one cares about it, Altador. Let's stop this
muck, and get back to partying..." he replied with a deep chuckle, glancing
around. Others smiled nervously, laughing in a nervous manner, but they still
turned to King Altador, their eyes showing curiosity and confusion.
But then, the sky started to rumble with thunder,
and a dark shadow fell over the once sunny sky of Altador. One person screamed,
but the rest was silent, rushing over to the windows. Their eyes were widened
in fear, watching on in horror. The bright sun strained to keep its place as
superior, its light flickering in a weak persistence, but the shadowy clouds,
dark and billowing, covered it up with a grim satisfaction.
Psellia had a glazed over look in her eyes, turning
towards the window slowly, speaking. Her voice seemed different, rougher, and
in an instant, one could tell the Darkest Faerie was controlling her. And thus
she said three words.
"It has begun..."