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Three Kings: Hominus Saga - Book One
ACT 1: Diable Island
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The grey clouds moved through the sky without urgency, quite a contrast to what was happening below. Florian breathed heavily and loudly as he was sprinting. The swaying trees moved at a steady pace. He bit on his bottom lip as he ran. Panic and confusion ran through his mind. These weren’t emotions he usually felt. In his panic, he failed to notice the tree root sticking out of the ground and took a tumble. He landed face-first. He felt nothing but adrenaline as he looked ahead. He saw the figure of Ashe sprinting through the forest away from him. Florian got up and rapidly dusted himself off before taking off in a sprint once again. Some mud clung to his face and clothes from the fall. His lungs burnt as he tried to catch up with Ashe. After five hellish minutes, he had finally caught up with Ashe. Something was amiss though. She had been hunched over on her knees. She had been throwing up. As he walked over to her side, he noticed what she was reacting to. Florian’s blood ran ice cold. The familiar town he knew like the back of his hand, the town he grew up in stood largely unchanged. Tears flowed out of Florian’s eyes while he attempted to fight the bile rising in his throat. The gravel road that stood before them was painted red by the blood of about a dozen corpses that lay on the road. Some of the corpses Florian recognized as the townsfolk within his town. People he engaged regularly with. The rest of the corpses were men dressed in blue robes. He had heard of these people before from Priest Able. They were known to common folk as Casters. “Alaric...where..” Ashe whispered alongside him. More panic set within him. Fighting his urge to throw up, he walked out onto the gravel road. As he got closer to the corpses he noticed a difference between the corpses of the townsfolk and the corpses of the casters. The townsfolk had some sort of solidified rock protruding from their chest, while the robed men seemed to have their throats slit. He looked at the cold lifeless faces of the townsfolk. They were in such high spirits earlier. Wooden houses surrounded him as he walked through the town. The gravel road finally forked in two, one path leading straight ahead while the other forking to the left. He could see more corpses laid out on the road straight ahead. Florian chose the path to the left. The large cobblestone building at the end of the road came into sight. The road towards the cobblestone building however was the worst. There laid about fifty corpses on the road about half of them had been women and children. Florian also noticed that most of the robed men lay lifeless on this road. Florian danced around the corpses in a way to not step on any of them. He now stood in front of the large cobblestone building that he has called his home for the past 20 years. Florian then saw a figure lying in front of the large wooden doors of his home. The figure had been covered in blood however there had been no rock sticking out of his chest. Florian’s face paled. He ran up to the figure. Florian knelt before the bloody man as tears and snot gushed from his eyes and nose respectfully. “Alaric, you cannot die here. I need you...Ashe needs you.” Said Florian as he cried in front of his home. Desperate and alone.
