Olarea Walker

by Kenneth Burch

Conceived and born from a union between forbidden races. Hartha, a dark elf, was raised under the oppressive restrictions of the Overlord Lucan D’Lere. She had fallen in love with a warrior named Tyrell Walker. Tyrell was fighting against the evil empire headed by Lucan. The Qeynos army had stormed across most of the commonlands and was very close to over throwing the Empire itself when Lucan opened the dark portal of Verallna. Hordes of beast and minions of evil released a plague or darkness, bringing sickness down upon the fighting men. Death came quickly as screams of horror took hold and soaked the surrounding lands in Qeynos blood.

It was during this time, that Lord Lucan ordered the people of Freeport to aid in the removal of fallen Qeynos warriors. Lucan’s command would secure his status with his people and once again show them his mighty power. The following morning, Hartha was gathering water when she came upon a Qeynos warrior. He was still alive though still suffering from the plague. His armor that once seemed shiny was now corroded in rust and acid. She backed away at first, not knowing what to expect from this defender from the other side.

Despite strict orders from the Overlord himself, Hartha took the wounded warrior and hid him, nursing him to health. It wasn’t long before her cares turned to love. Their union would later produce a wonderful and loved child named Olarea, her name taken from the rare flowers that bloom from the darken rocks of Lavastorm.

Olarea would grow into a happy young girl who loved her father and their moments spent together. Tyrell would sneak into the woods of Feerrott where Hartha and Olarea would meet him and spent what time they could there together. As fate would have it, these most sacred of times, would not last long.

The imbalance of forces headed by the Freeport Empire would drive Lucan into sessions of madness. It was during these times when Olarea longed for her father, the most. The handsome and strong warrior would be busy holding back the hordes of evil threatening his home town of Qeynos. Olarea would stay up at night, gazing at the full moon and imagining her father, fighting the Evil hordes, and winning. Although she loved her home, she grew to love and care so much more about her father and his well being, nothing else mattered anymore
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Time has a way of dealing a bad hand to those who love it the most, and Olarea is no exception. Weeks would turn into months between visits and she, who once was a girl, had turned into a woman, her love for her father, ever growing.

As the continuing battle between Qeynos and Freeport raged on, Olarea grew more desperate to see her father. Her dreams of a life together would find their way into confusion and anger. She waited along the shores outside the city every full moon and sat listening for his return. “I will always be with you,” he would say, holding her tight in his strong arms. Her father always kissed her on the tip of her nose, and she always smiled and sometimes laughed aloud. But that had seemed a long time ago and the Winters of Freeport were coming. How she remembered, how she longed for her father’s love.

One morning, just before the light of an autumn sun, she set out to cross the dry common lands. She had taken with her food and a weapon a dagger belonging to her father. She left a note for her mother and kissed her, setting out into the world of unknowing. The haunting trees and awful sounds of strange beasts and howling cries scared her so. But Olarea had her father’s sense of determination and moved onward, crossing into the lands of Qeynos, and its forbidden surroundings.

As night fell upon the sky above, she slept keeping with her, her father’s dagger. Dreams tore away at her and she found herself restless and worrying, for her father. Throughout the night, thoughts of his death had come to her. “Could that be the reason I had not seen him? Is my father dead?” she wondered. “My god no!” she shouted waking herself from an obvious trance. Haunting screams of a minion horde echoed in the distance, as black bats took flight, screeching in the night sky.

Morning comes and dew blankets the trees and ground, glistening in the morning light. Olarea gathers her things and begins once more making her way towards the border, leading into the forbidden grounds of Qeynos.

Despite an ever growing threat of evil, the citizens of Qeynos often find time to go about their lives, living them in peace. It is during this time, that they spend it doing what people do. Many of the warriors take this time to train and bask in the sun, enjoying all that is Qeynos. A pair of sky blue eyes, pierce through a crack in the stone wall of Qeynos. Through them she sees the joyful world of those born in this Forbidden City. Children play as parents watch, chatting amongst themselves, spreading gossip and daily chatter. Strong guards roamed around protecting the citizens from outer threats, threats like Olarea and her kind alike. Her mind drifts as she imagines but for a second, her life here, among these people. She envisioned herself and mom, living here with her father and walking proudly inside the inner gates and walls. She imagines the wonderful things and places her father would take her and the laughter they would share. She’s day dreaming an entire lifetime within minutes, when she hears a voice. She quickly snaps back into the here and the now and quickly notices the sound in a second. It’s her father’s voice she hears, strong as ever. He’s talking and laughing, that sound she loves the most. Another voice chimes in a smaller sounding one, one that belongs to a girl.

Its one of those moments, one that clings to our souls and reminds us of just how wrong things can go. Without being aware that it's happening, tears rush up and begin flooding the bright blue eyes of a young Olarea. She now knows, she knows everything that needs to be known, and it burns her, to the very core. “Daddy, look!” she hears, as the young voice on the other side of the stoned wall, points upward. There is a white eagle flying high, with golden wings. Tyrell picks up the young girl with flowing white hair and holds her as they both gaze up at the sky. He kisses her on the cheek, setting her down and the two of them walk off, the young girl looks back and up at the sky. “Alexia!” she hears, as a beautiful woman comes up to meet them. Upon her face a gleam. Through flooded eyes of tears, Olarea watches the three of them walk across a field of green spotted by beautiful flowers and a life well worth living. These thoughts sting then burn as they begin piling up inside and working outward. Sorrow gives way to rage.

The dark woods of Feerrott, hold many secrets. Strange creatures and winged animals have called this place home. Branches sprout haunting leaves that blot out most of the sun, casting down shadows that dance in horror among its jungle floor. Deadly traps of ancient times lend themselves to those losing their way. The walk home was the hardest for Olarea. The pain from what she witnessed, continued creeping upwards, scaring her forever. “What had I done daddy?” she asked herself. “What had I done wrong to make you leave me? Why Daddy? Why me?” These questions would not truly be answered, not yet, but during that long walk home, Olarea found the answers she needed. The young often find themselves without hope, and with no one to turn to, they often follow their own undeveloped emotions. Olarea would also be no exception.

What little light loomed, was beginning to fade as darkness regained hold of the forest. By this time, Olarea drained of all rational thought and the lost of her father’s love slipped slowly into madness. The howling sounds of night creatures, aiding her travel.

She found herself weak now, her mind slipping away. Eyes now blood red with tears she dropped to the ground. She looked up toward the now blacked leaves and night sky, tears still streaming down her face. With all that she loved most now gone she began painting visual pictures in her mind, of her future without her father. Dark clouds peppered her every illusion shaping them into agony. That girl, that young girl she saw her father with, she was about Olarea’s age. “But I loved you first daddy!” she shouted into the darkness. With every possible thought leading to emptiness She removed the dagger once belonging to her father, and without hesitation, planted it deep into her chest, her final scream echoed through the forest.

The warmth of the living quickly gave way to the icy cold of the dead. Olarea’s face remained fixed towards the night sky and the now full moon that held it. Two names escaped her soft dying lips, one she held with love, the other in anger and hatred, for her final thoughts, were of a young girl who had taken her father from her.

As the hours ticked toward the center of the night, a young body lay. Its heart rate slowed to almost non-existence beat, and the veins that once ran warm with fresh blood, began to flatten, turning cold. The nocturnal beats of the forest of time began its concert of the dead. Insects from an ancient time slither from out of the deep, and crawl along the ground. They walk along her body, inspecting and dropping eggs that quickly spawn into small pockets of slime, coating her. Four legged creatures like the diseased black wolves come to her now and begin licking the slime off her body, now being reborn. Winged death bats take flight, dusting the air around her in poison they’re screeching sounds almost delightful. Firebugs circle the ground and sky above illuminating it in deathly amber. Olarea opens her eyes to her new life and her vision is clear. She looks around at the horrible and deadly creatures, that have aided in her rebirth, and she likes what she sees. Looking down she sees the dagger still impaled in her. She reaches up and pulls it out with such force, that the tip has snapped off, leaving it inside. “A token of you is inside me now daddy, as I will take you with me wherever I go,” she says. She tears away the clothing she had put on a few days ago. Her blouse is used to wrap the dagger and she begins once more, the walk through the midnight forest of time, now harvesting the dead.

In her wake a trail of creatures follow. She finds a corpse of a mage and removes its robe. The great tree of the dead drops a branch that provides her with a staff to summon that which no longer lives. Snakes infected with bile and unearthly poisons sleek behind her. Roots of the ages take hold and form her boots, as she puts up her hair. The stench of death flow from all over and she finds it sweet. “I shall have my revenge soon dear bitch of a sister, for I shall name my pets in reverse of your name and haunt you until the day we meet. For on that day, I shall knelt you before me and take back what you have taken from me. Father and I shall be one again, for this I promise.”

Born from the roots of evil, she walks. Her mind focused and growing in tact. Her skin darkened by hate and eyes reflecting the icy blue of cold revenge, she makes her way. At a command, she can summon the dead and use it as slaves to destroy the living. Her mission is now complete. She will hone this skill of evil and use it at will. Muggers and thieves who hunt and prey upon the weak in the forest, find themselves strapped to trees, pleading while she summons dead creatures to rip apart their limbs. She laughs at the blood and uses it to dye her robe. Evil upon evil attack falling victim to her. She is now a Princess of Darkness, looking for the only person standing between her and her King.

The sun is raising now, as she makes her way from the forest of time, behind her darkness. She will return soon and once more practice her new founded gift. There is so much to do now and never has she felt more alive. A giant spider has been deemed her pet for now. She will name it Aixela and those pets to come afterwards. She will whisper the name to summon whatever creature she needs to do her killing, for now death is her only friend. Death is the path to truth she knows that now. Evil is Live, spelled backwards and she will do just that. She has given her life to find her way, and now knows what she must do. “I shall come for you my dear Alexia come as any half sister should, to kill you.

The cold stench and decaying foul winds blow through an ancient forest of time, carrying death to those who control it. Today, on this day they blow as they’ve done for centuries only now they whisper the name…Olarea.

“Torn from the light and shattered by the darkness I come”


To Be Continued