Prologue
I am one of the ruined, one of the many whose lives was destroyed at the end.
It started off with an eclipse, the type that blocked out the sun and made the world seemingly pitch-black, and in an instant we thought it would pass, but it didn’t. Instead, the world turned red under the moon and monsters began crawling out from gates.
They did not stop and wait. They tore limbs from man, woman, and child indiscriminately until there was nothing left of them but bloodstains and tiny chunks of intestine splattered against the pavement. No, they did not spare the babies whom they ate in one sickeningly loud crunch, silencing their wails, they did not stop with the elderly or the disabled because death was all these creatures seemed to know.
Yes, everyone lost someone, and just when those of us left thought our time was near, golden lights filled the air and great heroes rose among the ashes. They reclaimed refuge areas and created a sense of normalcy for the survivors. Many took their hand and sought the comfort of walls, but some, resentful and angry with all they had lost, turned away and ventured into the Blood Lands of what is known as the continent of Aralia.
It’s been over fifty years since those nightmares, and many of the people from that age are long dead, but I remember. I remember because for some truly absurd reason I’ve lived life and after life through the five hundred and fifty-three years the monsters roamed.
I remember my life as a mother, a daughter, as a hunter and mage, as a mercenary for hire, as a blacksmith, and as a great hero before the time of the summons, but now? Now I am the daughter of a ruined, of a man who lived life in the Blood Lands with his family who preferred the life of nomads over the walls.
One can easily speculate how that ended up. The sight of their intestines and organs hanging off the claws of a terrifyingly demonic creature still haunts me which many seem silly. Many in my shoes would have lost their emotions by now having seen so many of their loved ones perish in agony, but they were all I had in a world where ninety percent of the population was destroyed, or rather, in a world where I got attached.
That said the blackened night of their death, full of monsters gnashing their teeth at the thought of a scrap or morsel of meat, the sounds of howls and screams of the nomads, it never quite leaves you, and rightfully so. Who would ever dare forget the horrors of the past after all? Nevertheless, I thought that to be the end of my tenth life; however, just as the sharpened claws of a lycanthrope swung down for the soft flesh of my underbelly an ax, thrown from a good ten feet away, severed the beats arm.
Black blood spewed from the stump coating me and permeating this indescribable putrid scent, but if I were to compare it to anything? It would be of rotting or burnt flesh.
It screamed and flailed in the air trying desperately to stop the flood, but only so much could be done. My memories are a blur after that and consist of the summons reigning damn near hellfire across the land, killing each and every creature that dared to show its face, and I found it silly. Silly that these monsters so adamant on ending our lives were showing fear, were terrified of the aspect of dying as if that was never a possibility.
Truly it was silly enough that I laughed. I laughed through the tears on my face, as the clerical summons tended to me, as the screams and howls all but died, yes, I laughed in the face of reality, of my own predicament, of my own curse.
As bizarre as it is, the path the curse of infinite reincarnation forces one to take causes breaks in sanity once in a while, but that shouldn't be all that surprising, should it? Granted the summons standing hero before me looking at me like I just lost what little sanity I had left may cause one to think otherwise.
Safe to say, with the fragility of my supposed state of mind, they gave me little to no choice in where I should reside and took me with them to the fortress city of Catalina after the great swordsman who currently runs the knight program within the city.
The city, once nothing but small straw or wood shacks, now consists of typical medieval style homes on its outer ring. The roads, made of cobblestone streets marred and cracked from the hooves of horses and worn from the wheels of carts or wagons, did the bare minimum to relieve foot traffic up to the middle ring made up of typical high end rich class families typically referred to as the nobles. As one can assume, this class used money to get everything they ever desired, and very few of them ever lost a family member. Lucky aren't they?
That said the innermost ring consists of the homes of the summoned and the high officials of the city who ruled usually by majority vote; however, with issues pertaining to large events or battles, the decisions rest solely on the original set of great heroes Catalina, Heras, Sephina, Alastor, and Zeron.
Now as for where I ended up? The doctors ward of the most inner part of the city where nomads are screened and prepped for transition; however, their plans for my integration into the outer ring would not go as peacefully planned, nor would the entirety of my so-called mundane life.
