🖋 The Midnight Ledger
A Short Story from the World of 4EverMore, where the shadows hold more than just secrets - sometimes, they whisper back.. Location: Somewhere deep within the City of Eclipsora or The Red City depending on their mood. Immortal Storytellers: (Sonia Bloodthorn, Cordillera, Lysander, and Rook Nightwind).
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Lysander set his quill to parchment, his sharp gaze fixed on the group. “Alright, my turn,” he said with a wicked grin. “This is a different kind of story - one of greed, ambition, and the pursuit of immortality in the mortal world. No sweet love here, just a thirst for eternal life that can only lead to ruin.”
He cleared his throat and began, his voice dark and commanding.
"The Quest for the Last Ember"
In the mortal realm, beyond the lands of 4EverMore, there was a time when the knowledge of immortality was no longer a myth, but a dark and dangerous obsession. Rumors spread through the shadowed corners of the world, whispers of an artifact known only as the Last Ember—a stone said to possess the power to grant eternal life. It was said that the Ember could halt the aging process, mend broken bodies, and grant its wielder the power to conquer death itself. But there was a price - one that few understood, and even fewer were willing to pay.
"To seek the Ember," Lysander continued, his voice taking on a more somber tone, "was to abandon any notion of humanity. It could only be wielded by those willing to embrace the cold, the cruel, the uncaring void that existed outside of the laws of life and death."
The room grew silent as Lysander’s eyes narrowed in concentration. "Now, there were three - three individuals bound by their shared obsession with immortality. Alastair Vance, a once-promising alchemist whose ambition grew beyond the constraints of his craft; Vera Keane, a skilled sorceress whose spells had long stopped being a tool for healing and had become weapons of war; and finally, Darius Blackthorn, a ruthless mercenary who had sold his soul for gold and power, and now sought immortality to claim even more of both."
"These three were united by one simple, unwavering desire - eternity."
He leaned back, tapping the quill against his lips, enjoying the tension building. "They had no love between them, no grand ideals. Only their own selfish quests for eternal life. It was Vera who first came upon the legend of the Last Ember, a secret so carefully hidden that even the most powerful sorcerers of the time had failed to uncover its location. But Vera’s arrogance knew no bounds, and after years of searching through forbidden tomes, she discovered its location - a dark temple, deep in the heart of the Cinder Wastes."
Rook raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a real lovely place.”
“Right? The Wastes were a desolate stretch of land, with not a soul in sight for miles except for the twisted remains of ancient, long-forgotten civilizations. No one ventured there - except for those desperate enough to chase eternal life."
Lysander’s gaze became cold. "Vera, ever the ambitious one, sought out Alastair and Darius, promising them that with the Last Ember in their grasp, all their desires would be fulfilled. For Alastair, it meant the endless pursuit of knowledge, an eternal life to fuel his experiments. For Darius, it meant more power, more wealth, more control over the mortal realm. To him, immortality was simply another tool for domination."
He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering with something darker. "They traveled together, each of them driven by their own insatiable greed. But as the journey continued, they began to notice... strange things. The Ember, they were told, would reveal itself only to those who were worthy, to those who proved their commitment to the pursuit of immortality. The deeper they ventured into the Wastes, the more the land seemed to warp around them."
“Warp? How?” Cordillera asked, intrigued.
"Time itself bent around them, as if the Wastes were not just a place, but a living entity. The closer they got to the temple, the more they found themselves losing touch with reality. Alastair began to hear voices in his head - voices of those who had tried to claim the Ember before him, those who had failed. Vera’s magic grew unstable, as if the Wastes themselves were resisting her power. And Darius… Darius started to see visions- not of his future, but of his past, haunting him in a way that made him question his very existence."
Lysander's tone darkened. "It wasn’t until they reached the heart of the Wastes that they truly understood the cost. The Last Ember wasn’t just a stone - it was a sentient entity, alive in a way that they had never imagined. To claim it meant merging with it, becoming one with its cold, unfeeling essence. The Ember itself had been the key to the immortality of countless would-be immortals before them - each one consumed by it, their souls trapped within its power, their bodies frozen in time, their minds lost in endless torment."
His voice dropped to a whisper. "None of them knew. None of them could have known. The Ember wasn’t a gift; it was a trap. It fed on the desires of those who sought it, drawing them closer until they could no longer pull away. And once they had claimed it, there was no return."
Cordillera leaned forward. “What happened when they found it?”
"They each tried to claim it, in their own way. Alastair, with his scientific mind, sought to manipulate the Ember’s power. Vera tried to bind it to her magic. And Darius... Darius just wanted to take it, to conquer it. They all failed. The Ember rejected them, twisting their minds, and pulling them into its core. As their bodies became part of it, their souls were trapped, condemned to wander the Wastes for eternity, their immortality nothing more than a nightmare."
Rook let out a low whistle. "Sounds like their thirst for immortality was their downfall."
Lysander’s gaze turned hard, his voice low. "It always is. The pursuit of immortality is never a noble thing. It’s a desire rooted in fear, in the refusal to accept mortality, to accept that life has its limits. And in the end, Alastair, Vera, and Darius found that immortality wasn’t the gift they thought it was. It was a curse - a binding, cold, endless existence, stripped of meaning."
He leaned back, his fingers tapping the desk, contemplating the end. "And so, the Last Ember remained hidden, waiting for the next fool who thought they could claim it. But those who sought it - like those before them - were never the same. The Ember’s power is not to be wielded. It is to be feared."
Lysander’s eyes gleamed as he put down his quill. "There you go. Immortality, greed, and the cost of chasing something that was never meant to be claimed."
The room was silent for a moment before Cordillera broke it with a soft laugh. "Well, that was certainly a reminder to keep things in perspective."
Sonia grinned. “Can’t get enough of immortality, can we?”
Lysander raised an eyebrow, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, we’ve only scratched the surface."
Tales From The Midnight Ledger
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