Chapter 1 - Things Betwixt
The flow of time is a twisted and tangled thing. Great nations rise and fall like the ebb and flow of the tides, while the very earth itself is shaped and changed by the forces that lie deep within. And amidst all this chaos, the people of these lands struggle on, doing what they can to survive.
Kings and queens, lords and ladies, all strive to build alliances with their neighbors, based on trust and trade. Yet too often, those neighbors vanish into the mist, never to be seen again - or turn out never to have existed at all. And so the centuries pass, the great dynasties of old crumble into dust, but one thing remains constant - the legend of the chosen undead.
For generations, the story has been passed down, of a hero who would rise to the challenges of their age, who would light the flame, sit upon the throne of want, and be the ember that burned in the darkness. And so the tale goes on, even as the world changes around it, a reminder of the enduring power of myth and legend.
Millibeth, our housekeeper, interrupted my thoughts with an observation of her own, knowing me well ’nough by now to target my internal narrative. ”Oh my dear, please do pardon me, but surely you must know that the tales are nothing more than mere legends, meant to keep the children in line and nothing more. Why, every household has their own version of these old fables, passed down through the generations, but they are all just stories, nothing more.”
“Ah, young one, ye speak of tales and fables, do ye? Listen well, for not all stories are written down in ink and parchment, but that does not make them any less true than the sun in the sky or the wind in the trees. Nay, all ye need to do is step outside and see for yourself how the things betwixt be forever shifting and changing, from one day to the next.
And as for the tale of the chosen undead, it is a story that runs deep in our very bones, in the very essence of our humanity. It is a fable that has been passed down from generation to generation, a reminder of the eternal struggle between light and dark, life and death.
But mark my words, young one, if ye cannot feel the truth of it in yer very soul, if ye cannot see the spark of destiny that lies within us all, then ye are naught but a hollowed shell, a worthless husk, devoid of the very thing that makes us human. So heed my words well, and let the fables of old guide ye on yer path, lest ye lose yerself in the shifting tides of time.”
Millibeth seemed to take this in, rolling it around for a moment - ”Perhaps, my dear, perhaps. It is not for me to say whether the tales are true or not, for I am but a humble housekeeper, tasked with the day-to-day upkeep of this household. As to the legends and stories that abound, well, that is for others to decide. So let us not dwell too long on the mysteries of the world beyond our doorstep, but instead keep our eyes fixed firmly on the tasks at hand, and let the rest take care of itself.”
"Ah, my dear child, the winds of change are blowing once again. I can feel it in my very bones, a new energy stirring in the world around us. The Hollows grow restless, their thirst for power and purpose driving them ever onward.
But there is something different this time, something that sets it apart from all that has come before. No word has reached us of a new chosen undead, no hero to rise up and face the trials ahead.
Will this be a turning point, a new chapter in the book of our world? Will we see something truly different, a path untraveled by those who came before us? Only time will tell, my child, but mark my words - we stand at the precipice of change, a moment of great opportunity and great danger, eons old in re-trod toil. So take heed, and prepare for whatever may come, for the winds of fate are forever blowing, and none can say for certain what lies ahead."
