The Dark Order 1.15: The Unholy Eight

Deep within the North, beneath the fog, is Eden, an impregnable, colossal fortress built into the Elder Oak at the top of the world; this is the SSA's Main Headquarters, holy Bishops in navy blue uniforms and knights in purple fill the halls. Whispers are circulating among them, spreading through the fortress like a wildfire. Preparations are being made in The Garden, Eden’s Great Hall, an oversized rectangular-shaped room. There will be a global announcement today.

Two Commanders walk into the room, followed by a small group of two low-tier Bishops and five knights.

One is a forty-five, Black, smoothed-skin, woman with straightened mid-back length, dark brown hair. She’s blind in her right eye due to the branding on her face. A red spell circle burned into her flesh. She’s wearing a black suit; her right arm folded and hidden underneath her blazer.

The other is a one-hundred-and-twenty, two-horned, blue-scaled goblin female. Sharp dagger-length horns of bone protrude from the sides of her head. There’s a red spell circle on the back of her neck. In three circles, connected to form a triangle, she’s wearing a customary warrior's robe of Mount Dragnok, crafted using strands of Black Diamond silk, making it incredibly resilient.

“Ugh… Why did I get selected for this? This is an insult to our position. ” The black woman spats while enjoying your snack. A voice full of annoyance. It’s strong. Unafraid. She’s bored of this.

The goblin woman growls lowly as she yawns, exposing her mouth full of serrated teeth. “Power begets more power.” They stand watching over the agents prepping the space. She side-eyes the woman. “Monet…”

The black woman walks off. “Do not ask me again, Dasu.” Dasu can only growl in silent frustration as she follows behind.

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In Debois, the country is putting the final touches on summit preparations. Along with the summit, the SSA plans to broadcast the World Government's announcement to Valon. Viewing stations for citizens to watch are being placed around the city. Large conductor rods that feed off the Magic force of the poor soul locked inside.

Faint whispers sweep through the country, and the hundreds of others spread across the land. Everyone from magic to non-magic will be present. Bounty hunters will stalk their hunting grounds, syphoners stalk the shadows, lurking in the darkness, awaiting their first victim. The Debois base has dispatched nearly all the Holy Knights, who patrol the city.

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At Franklins, from behind the bar, he looks at the crowded business as many have come to watch the announcement. The feed is static-filled as it’s adjusted from the source until it’s crystal clear.

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In Tramble, the citizens gather in the middle of town as the SSA constructs viewing stations. “What do you think it is?” A short, middle-aged, bald white male inquires.

He’s talking to a tan and white Jack Rabbit hybrid. On its hind legs, it’s standing at five-foot-nine-inches, its lengthy ears fall down its back like dreadlocks. It’s wearing a light armor, there’s a sheathed sword across its back with a yellow diamond, molded into the butt of the sword. “Maybe they’re finally executing her?”

Elsewhere, Charlotte and Jose stumble out of the forest, exhausted. Their clothes are battered and they’re covered in cuts, bruises, and plants. He falls back against a wooden shed to catch his breath, Charlotte stands observing the growing number of onlookers. She’s scratching her palm aggressively, and glares of anger fill her brow. She can only stare ahead.

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Stations are being set up in Godrick Square. Lying in bed at Godrick Square Medical Center, a bandaged and bed-bound Flossie has the pending broadcast.

Soldiers have surrounded the SSA base for security, a large crowd stands outside as their viewing rods are placed. Blue Mana rises through the rods, creating electrical connections before a large mana screen forms. The picture quality is top-tier. Wilcox, Constance, and Grabowski are in attendance.

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Back at Eden—it has begun.

Holy Bishops line the entry of the fortress. Hate-filled eyes stare ahead. The soldiers extend throughout the entry, into the Hall of Virtue, the common place. There are seven golden statues spread throughout the space. The perfectly shaped marble steps on both sides offer a shimmer that reflects throughout the room. It's pristine. Where the steps connect on the second level, Rasu stands with Monet in the back and their unit of soldiers. There’s a mirror mage who broadcasts the pending message.

“There once was a time when species could co-exist… Yet, as I stand here, let it be proof of that peace being erased. We share a place in this warring existence.” Her voice radiates off the mirror and showcases around the world.

“We will dismantle the rebellions, the ungrateful, those who stand against the sovereign… And for those who hunt after the past and rumored power—your groups, your goals, and your power are all meaningless; the sovereign is absolute. Our Justice is absolute.” Her sweet-natured appearance has transformed into a cold-hearted beast. “Finrel will be but an example of what is to come.” And with that, her speech ends. Stepping back to stand beside Monet, “Was that meant to be reassuring?”

There’s a beastly grin on Dasu’s face, an animalistic blood thirst in her eyes. The broadcast ends right on time as several individuals walk into the hall. There are eight in total. Starting at the very left.

The Butcher, Valerie Phoenix. An average-sized White male, who has not one blemish. His life is lavish. He’s wearing green shimmered bell bottoms. A flamboyant ruffled white blouse that matches his flawless skin and red dyed hair. He’s from the West region of the North, out of a pretentious town of trust funders called Rai. He’s notoriously known for his unprovoked violence-- User of Razor Magic.

The Silent Nun, Sister Raya Hawk. A petite, mid-forties, White, devotee of the old world. Dressed in proper nun attire. She’s taken an oath of silence until the new rising, a rumored globally world-changing event that happens every five thousand years. She bears cross tattoos on the tops of both hands. She leads The Silent Sanctum, located in the South region of the North, in a small, unnamed, unmarked village. Her organization turns girls, young and older women, “strays” into devotees of the old world.

The Jackel, Kayyo Baslisk. A yellow, seven-foot, twenty-five-year-old, hothead Orc from Wo’Qune, a country in the North region of the Eastern Realm. He has an athletic build beneath his Valtian iron-laced trench robe and carries a cursed scythe. The Jackel only wishes to enslave and stew humans. Their race is superior to all. Kayyo is that reminder.

Emily Donahue, a twenty-four, pale-toned, brown curly-haired woman wearing a self stitched, black, brown, and white dress, she is carrying a creepy porcelain doll, dressed in old, blood-stained children’s clothes— User of Doll Magic. A unique magical specimen. She was able to transform her entire town into dolls. She's a collector now for her interests, unless you're willing to pay.

Sasha Al’Menhai, The Fear Witch. Her age and appearance are unknown, keeping both hidden. All that’s seen is her overly green long tongue that escapes from behind a crazed smile. She’s from the West Region of the Southern Realm, in a long forgotten country named Día. She's known to wander around aimlessly, through every realm, every country, at will, and behind her, she leaves carnage.

Killian Ajuri is an eight-foot, Gray skinned, Great Elf from Levayeht, the centermost country in the Western Realm. His armor glimmers endlessly. Crafted with the advanced technologies of the West. It's built years ahead of the other realms. Levayeht sits just North of the Castle of Sevine. Killian uses a four-foot, thin blade, long sword named Gorrod, named after its blacksmith. He conquered three countries in the Western Realm, killing their royals without mercy and turning others into slaves. His motives are not yet known.

Mallew. A relentless serial killer assassin turned bounty hunter. Bringing in some of the strongest mages' heads. He is six-two with colorless, dead man’s eyes that have black reticle pupils, and on the left side of his mouth, the skin has rotted away, exposing his teeth. He's dressed like a shinobi. He's a cynical killer, who does the dirty work for any person or country willing to pay. No one knows where Mallew is from. He is the only one of his kind left and is seeking out the perfect target.

Monet and Dasu look down on the group as they stand in a line. Looking amongst the group, all deranged, all dangers, and now, all of them are pawns for the World Government. In return, the World Government will turn a blind eye to all their dealings and bury their bounties

Each member has a bounty higher than one hundred and fifty million Rolkan.

These individuals were chosen due to their proven power and influence throughout Valon, and the Sovereign can monitor them closely.

"Where are they?" Monet side eyes her peer. Out of nowhere, the echoes of clapping sound off through the hall. All eyes turn to a five-ten, White female as she steps into the hall, wearing a sleeveless button-up shirt, baggy jogger pants, and flip flops. She has her hair bunched and pinned back.

Penelope Mitchell.

"The Dragon Queen." Penelopes eyes are reptilian. There are scales along her neck.

The Unholy Eight is the World Government's deterrent to all magical threats from any corner of Valon, from any number of enemies; their roles are whatever the Sovereign orders, due to their expendability. That makes these individuals more willing to sacrifice anyone to accomplish a goal.

What will come of this group? What role will they each play in the future? This decision will cause instant disruption as this now unchecked power ripples throughout Valon leaving ever-changing effects.

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....To be continued.

Start with Chapter 1.1

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Chapter 1.14

New Chapter Coming April 18, 2025