Skeledonia: Origins
Author's note: This is a prequel to my Trollpasta "30 Years Ago..." If you haven't read that one, you may not understand this one.
Our story begins in the year 1225, in a poor village known as "Fontina". The peasants were holding the Festival of Bones, to celebrate the dead.
Men, women, young and old were coming together to take part in all the festivities. The village peasants drank ale with excitement as they walked the streets, where the skulls of the dead were placed decoratively.
As the locals roamed the village, everything seemed as it should. Near the end of the festival, an old man, about 48, looked up towards the hill that was north of the village.
"Look who comes!" he said "A stranger, on a horse!".
The villagers close to him looked to where he pointed. There was indeed a strange person on a horse coming their way. They all stood with caution as he arrived in the village. There was a man on a white horse, wearing a brown cloak with a bag hanging from his back.
As the mysterious stranger's horse galloped into view of the peasants, the man dismounted. Strangers were rare in the village of Fontina, so most of the villagers did not want to approach him. However, the old man decided to come up to the cloaked man.
"Who the hell would you be?" he asked. "I can see that this is a friendly welcome!" the stranger replied, as he lifted up his hood, revealing a bearded, long haired man. He looked around to see all the staring peasants.
"My name is Asher. I've come here from the town of Grevé. Charmed." he said. At this point, most of the villagers realized he wasn't a threat, and had gone into the tavern. Asher then followed them inside. The tavern was small, mostly taken up by large barrels of alcohol. Asher sat next to several male villagers who were drinking ale.
"See that tavern keeper?" one of them said to him, "She's probably bedded most of the men here." The tavern keeper then approached Asher.
"Is there a drink you'd like, handsome stranger?" she asked. "I'll have some wine." he replied. Some of the men sitting next to him looked surprised.
"Look at that rich guy. He thinks he can get wine in a place like this!" one of them said. "Must've been a rogue noble 'r somethin'." another peasant said.
"They don't tolerate outsiders. Don't worry about it." the tavern keeper said to Asher. "It's not a problem. They're a bunch of rantallions anyway." he said. She laughed at his remark. "My name is Anne, and you are?" she asked.
"Asher. I'm a mercenary around here. Came here from Grevé to start a new life." he said.
"We've gotten mercenaries here before, heard all their exploits. What do you do?" she said.
"I do my job, and I collect the money... and the remains." he said. "The remains?" she asked. "Yes, the remains. Bones. I pull them right out of my enemies, and I stuff them all into a sack." Anne looked at the burlap bag hanging from Asher's shoulder.
"That sack?" she asked, confused. "You catch on quickly, lady. This sack is my trophy, practically my legacy." he replied. "You can't just bring a sack of human remains into this tavern. You'll have to leave now." she said. Asher nodded, and walked out of the tavern with his bag hung around his shoulder.
"I thought this job had not an ounce of humanity, but that gorgeous wench proves me wrong." he said to himself. As he walked through the village, he noticed a graveyard by the church. "I'll get rid of this damn thing to please her." he said while looking at his bag.
The graveyard stood out in the moonlit night. It was almost All Hallows Eve. Asher dropped the bag in front of a tombstone. Suddenly, the tomb began to shake violently, and the sky filled with grey storm clouds.
"What the hell is going on?!" Asher yelled.
At that moment, a portal opened up. Asher looked into it, and two large skeletal hands popped out and attempted to grab him.
"I'm not intimidated!" he said, as he pulled out his sword. The large skeleton hands grabs his arms, and pulled him into the portal. Asher then woke up in a dark void. He looked around, and there was nothing.
"I must be dead." he thought. "YOU AREN'T DEAD, YOUNG ASHER." a voice called out. "Who is that? How do you know my name?!" he said.
"Oh dear Asher, even you don't know yourself! I am no one! I am simply nothing. Allow me to show you around." it said. Suddenly, the void turned into a long, twisted tunnel.
"Go on, take a look around." the voice said. Asher began to walk forward. The tunnel had no end. It stretched on and on, no matter how far he got.
"What is this place?" he called out to the void. "This is my design, and it goes however I want." it said.
"I can show you the past..." then the tunnel turned into a vision of Asher's ancestors. "Or... I can show you the future!" the vision then changed into a barrage of bright neon colors, and deafening music that Asher couldn't understand. "Enough! Stop this!" he yelled.
The vision turned back into the black void. "Asher..." the voice said. "This world is how I perceive it. Could you imagine having that power?" Asher was confused by this.
"What do you mean? Why are you doing this?" he asked.
"I'm making you an offer, you blood thirsty killing man. Your own realm, and your own subjects to command. All yours, Asher." the voice replied.
"Why would I be the one you choose for this? What makes me your exception?" he said.
"I've watched you for a very long time. You aren't a mercenary, Asher. You're a murderer. You've been keeping a bag of your enemy's bones for goodness sakes! I would feel honored to reward the most sadistic individual I've ever seen!" the voice replied.
Asher became intrigued. "So what would I get if I took your offer?" he said.
"Your own realm, an army to command, powers and of course, immortality. How about it?" the voice said. Asher had been through quite a bit at this point, but he knew he'd never get an offer like this again.
"I'll take it, but you'll have to give me a week to prepare." he said.
"Excellent! I'll see you then, on All Hallows Eve!"
A new portal opened up, and Asher was pulled back into the real world. He was back in the graveyard, with his bag sitting in front of him. It was now the morning after that night. The villagers were now roaming the streets of Fontina. Asher decided to stay in an inn until the week was over.
Three days later, Asher spotted the tavern keeper, Anne, leaving the tavern. He hadn't seen her in days, so he wanted to speak with her. Passing by the peasants, they looked at him oddly, but he wasn't sure why. When he approached Anne, she let out a gasp.
"What's wrong Anne? Is there something wrong with me?" he said.
"Your face... oh goodness. What happened to you?" she replied. Asher felt his own face, and some of his skin was gone. It wasn't just his face. His hands, his legs, they were missing skin. All they showed was bone.
"No, I... there's nothing wrong with me. I swear!" he said. Anne turned away from him, leaving Asher alone with the peasants staring at him.
That night, filled with anger, he went to the graveyard. Asher picked up the bag of bones, and dropped it in front of the tombstone. It began to shake violently once again, and the portal opened up, Asher entered it to speak with the voice.
"What have you done to me?" he yelled.
"Oh, is that Asher? How do you like your new look?" it replied.
"My skin is rotting away! How did this happen?" he said.
"You didn't think this didn't come with a price, did you? I told you, Asher. EVERYTHING HERE IS MY DESIGN. Including you!" the voice explained.
Asher was beyond angry. "What's going to happen now?" he said.
"Right now, you are becoming a skeleton. What will your army be made of? Skeletons! I reward the sadistic, and the most sadistic thing you've done is rip the bones right out of your enemies, and put them in a bag. There's no bones about it, you will be a skeleton." it said.
"Oh, and by the way... I'm accerating the process!"
Asher's skin began to melt off even faster, and his brown cloak became grey. He looked at his hands, and the skin just oozed right off of them.
"How could you do this?!" he yelled. His voice was now different. It became more gravelly, and twisted. He dropped to the ground. "I'm no longer myself. I don't feel like Asher anymore." he said.
"Quite right. You aren't Asher anymore. You have a new name now. For the rest of eternity, you will be... King Skelly."
"What happens now?" he said.
"You get your realm now. I call it Skeledonia!" the voice said. "But how will I communicate with the real world?" the new king said.
"Easy. All you need is a messenger object. Someone in the real world finds it, and they'll come right to you. It's like a curse! What'll it be? Here's a hint!"
The bag of bones appeared in front of him. His prized possession was now a curse.
"You'll learn to love your skeleton form, and grow to despise humans. I can see it in your future. Enjoy your new realm!" it said.
The void collapsed around him, and it manifested itself as a new world. The sky was orange, the ground was brown, and the grass was blood red. He was in a large, skull shaped castle. What remained of Asher stepped onto a balcony made out of bones, to overlook a large crowd of skeletons on the ground, cheering for their king.
"Skeletons!" he called out. "I am King Skelly. Your new ruler..."
Written by MaxSpooks
Content is available under CC BY-SA
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