Prologue
The huge creature lay on the oversized, four-poster bed. Large, muscular arms were placed across its chest as it rose serenely up and down with the rhythm of its sleeping breath. The green fur that covered its body waved like a soft breeze through a meadow of grass with each inhale, creating a soft hum. Two sharp canine teeth protruded from its upper jaw, giving it the look of a powerful and formidable beast, but its peaceful features, though youthful, showed that this creature was also one of intelligence.
A strange, radiant blue glow seemed to emanate from around the creature, as if creating a magical cocoon to protect it during its slumber. An energy resonated from the glow, which lightly fizzed in the quiet atmosphere.
Kneeling by the side of the bed was another creature, similar to the one that slept, its head resting in the palms of its large hands. The fur on this creature was also green, but there were patches of brown resembling a muddy field.
Beside it knelt a man with blond hair, who wore a light tunic emblazoned with the crest of his people. A scar ran across the left side of his forehead, an old war wound from many battles. The man, though tall, barely came to the creature's shoulder, emphasising the sheer size difference between the two.
Two torches burned on either side wall, casting flickering light across the room and giving off a light crackle, which merged with the sound the blue glow emitted. The man and the creature mumbled quietly in the dim light as if in prayer, creating an otherworldly atmosphere. They knelt for long moments in prayer before a new noise seemed to prick at their attention—a faint buzzing sound that for a moment had no source.
The large creature's ears twitched as it registered the sound, and it shifted its head to peer into the room through its fingers, noticing a wasp of considerable size enter the room through the large, arched doorway at the far end. It watched the wasp with casual interest as the man slowly rose to his feet and retreated to the side wall. He sat on the bench against the wall and watched the wasp with a concerned look as it began to circle the room.
It flew past the large bench on the other side of the room where a tapestry hung, depicting a ferocious battle of creatures similar to the one that lay on the bed against a force of men almost ten times its size. Some of the creatures seemed to be shooting fire from their hands as if commanding it, while others were surrounded by the same blue glow that came from the bed.
As the wasp made its way around the room, its decreasing circles seemed to draw it closer to the bed with each rotation. The large creature now watched the wasp with full interest as it came closer to the blue glow. Then, suddenly, a cracking sound filled the room as the wasp finally touched the glow and was sent shooting across the room, hitting the side wall and causing the man to jump out of the way. It fell to the floor in a charred, smoking lump.
The man got back to his feet and dusted off his tunic as a deep rumbling sound erupted from the kneeling creature's throat as it began to laugh. "Poor wasp never stood a chance against that forcefield, eh, Balron?"
Balron straightened his clothes as he looked at the charred wasp. "Hmm, you're right Caine, I'm just glad I didn't lean in too close to your brother, wouldn't want to test it myself."
The faint smell of burnt insect wafted through the room, mixing with the earthy aroma given off by the creatures.
Caine rose and placed a light slap on Balron's shoulder. "Oh, I'm sure I would have only gotten another story about how you've had worse."
Balron shrugged and let out a short laugh. "Well, with all the years of battle and hardships I've seen, Caine, I usually have had worse."
Caine laughed deeply as he walked over to where the wasp lay, charred on the floor. He bent down, picked it up between his finger and thumb, and held it to his nose, breathing in the smell. The smoke still coming from the wasp shot up Caine's nose, causing him to sneeze. He looked closer at the wasp before deciding it was safe. He placed it into his mouth and began to chew.
The wasp crunched between his teeth as he chewed a few times before swallowing. "Waste not, want not, Balron."
Caine wrinkled up his nose in disgust as the taste of the wasp hit his tongue, but once the initial taste had gone, Caine smiled a huge, toothy grin. "Hmmm, delicious."
As Caine and Balron continued their discussion, a crack of thunder boomed through the cavernous room, drawing their attention away from the light-hearted moment and back to the room where a strange energy now stirred.
Caine extended his tongue and tasted the air. "Do you feel that, Balron?"
Balron looked at Caine. "It's just thunder, Caine, but I have been seeing many signs of late. Mia has been seen in our night skies again; that hasn't happened for a thousand Sereth."
Caine turned to Balron, brow furrowed. "What does it mean, Balron?"
"I'm not sure," Balron admitted, "but the planet Mia, as you know, is named after the Goddess of Hope. I'm sure it is a good sign."
Caine turned his attention back to the bed, his gaze on the blue glow that pulsated slightly as he watched. He approached the bed again and stood, looking down on the creature that lay there. The corners of his mouth began to droop as he let sadness engulf him.
"He shows no signs of returning to us." A tear crept down Caine's cheek as he looked upon his brother lying on the bed. "Do you think he will ever return to us? I've sat and prayed by his side for nearly thirteen Sereth. Surely we would have seen something from him by now. Thirteen world cycles, Balron, and nothing."
"He must return!" Balron declared sharply. "Only one of royal blood can wield the Golden Cleave. He is incredibly special, Caine. Without his abilities, we are on borrowed time." He paused and considered the alternative. "Our world is at a crossroads; it teeters on the edge of the abyss."
"But we can't make him return to this body," Caine returned heatedly. "It has to be his decision! We can't forcibly extract his soul from the body we placed it in, Balron; that could kill him, and besides, the Cleave is a mere myth. No one knows whether it even exists outside of the old texts."
"Well, we must find a way, even if he refuses to return," Balron shouted. "This is where his soul belongs. Andras believes the Cleave to be real. He launched assault after assault on the Great Library for years, searching for information about something; I have no doubt that, that is what he was looking for."
Caine fell silent, shocked by the anger in his friend's words but also understanding the gravity of their situation. After a moment, he sighed, calming himself before speaking.
"I know this is where he belongs, Balron, I know it," Caine said softly. "But if he's happy where he is, I will not drag him back. He's my brother, I know we're not blood brothers but that doesn't matter Balron; I couldn't live with myself if he hates me. He's the only family I have left. His parents adopted me when my parents were killed in this war."
"Hate has nothing to do with it," Balron said with an air of understanding, "But when he reaches maturity, his powers will start to manifest themselves. A human body is not made to withstand so much power; we are frail compared to you Daunts. Those powers could kill him, and then we are lost. We have been without a king since his father died in this war against Andras. He must return to take the throne and end this fight, one way or another."
"It's not fair on him. This will turn his life upside-down" Caine slyly wiped away a tear with the back of his huge hand. "Just think about it, Balron, there he has a family, friends, people that he's grown up with. What does he have here? Us two, who he doesn't even know! It's a strange new world where both his parents are dead. I've been there, Balron; I won't do that to him! I won't hurt him."
Balron threw up his arms and let out a loud breath to centre himself. "As you wish." Balron walked over to Caine and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't forget that Andras is his uncle," Balron said softly. "He is the only other living being that can use the Cleave, and if that happens, well, he's better off where he is anyway."
Caine's shoulders tensed at Balron's words, "I know you're right, Balron. I just wish it didn't have to be like this. I want him to come back more than anything. Is there anything we can do to make this easier?"
Balron held onto Caine's shoulder for a moment longer. "I will take a patrol to the Great Library and see if I can decipher these signs. Mia being seen in the skies is a reason to have hope my friend." With that, he gently removed his hand and headed for the arched doorway, disappearing into the darkness.
Caine continued to gaze at his brother's form on the bed. Now that Balron had left the room, he let his tears run freely as he spoke softly to the air. "Well, brother, we're in a pickle here without you. I've been so lost since your father died in this war and your mother in childbirth. I know we were not born brothers, but I see you as my blood. But we've never got to talk or share experiences; your parents didn't even get to give you a name. We need you; I need you! Please come home."
As Caine sat on the bench, the sound of thunder roared through the castle halls, the soft fizz of the forcefield throbbing as if in answer to his prayer, though Caine did not notice, so stricken with his grief, which had never subsided, even after thirteen cycles. A faint beam of light lit up his brother's face from an unknown source. Things were in motion that no one could control and few would understand, but as the faint light disappeared, a strange feeling of hope nestled into Caine's heart, making him smile.
