Prologue
As was proclaimed long ago, the voice of one crying in the wilderness was heard, preparing the way of the Chosen; to make straight in the desert a path for redemption.
Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill brought low; The crooked places shall be made straight and the rough places smooth.
The glory of the Chosen shall be born in fire, and all flesh shall soon fear, for the mouth of the Great Dragon will again speak.
A young child’s cry broke the silence of the starless night. Her heart quickened when she heard another cry, that of the soldiers calling out.
“We must go, Larissa,” Baldur said. “You know what will happen if those damnable soldiers catch us.”
Larissa looked down at the tiny bundle in her arms. She could feel warm blood trickling down her legs, having been forced to flee close to giving birth.
“It’s me they want,” she knew she wouldn’t be able to run much longer. “Take him and go. Provide a life for him.”
“They will never stop hunting him. He’s a Locke. You’ve been hiding all your life, as have your ancestors since the Tibius family seized control.”
“As far as they know, I”m the last Locke, the last threat to the Emperor’s throne.”
“They’ll know you gave birth,” Baldur said.
“I have a solution for that,” her half-smile that he loved quirked.
“I can’t do this without you.”
“For our son, you must. Take him far away from here and hide him. Make sure the Emperor and his men can’t find him.”
“Larissa, don’t. We can make it.”
“Over there,” a loud voice called out.
“Go!” She handed the small bundle to her husband, pushing him away.
“Larissa,” his voice cracked.
“Our son is more important than I am. So take care of him as only a father can.”
With that, she turned, running toward what would be her final destination. She knew the area well and wasn’t eager for what lay ahead. She knew she didn’t have the bravery to do what was needed on her own. But, for her son, she would make the sacrifice.
Making as much noise as she could, she staggered through the forest, the lanterns of the soldiers now visible behind her. She had to stay ahead of them so they didn’t catch her but kept them close enough to witness her final event.
“There!” a husky voice called.
She stopped at the cliff’s edge as it loomed up before her.
“Larissa Locke, you have nowhere else to go. Surrender now and come with us,” the unoriginal soldier shouted.
She smiled and watched the man’s face reveal his confusion. If they took her in, they would know she had given birth, that another Locke was in the world and a threat to the Emperor. She hoped her following action would cause enough damage to her body that they would leave it be or not be able to determine she had a child.
She turned to the cliff’s edge and couldn’t distinguish the sharp rocks she knew were below. Darkness hid her end as she stepped forward, plunging to her young death.
***
Destruction stirred, the angel of the abyss began to roam about the land, his essence, if not physically. He went by many names, Accuser, Beliel, the Enemy, the Great Dragon, and even Morningstar. His followers knew him as Abaddon, destruction.
For the first time, Au’Juan opened her eyes, the world she knew long gone, the age that resulted in her imprisonment having ended long ago. Her body was numb, held upright by the magic used to trap her in her own tower.
It is time. The Dragons are stirring, his voice called out to her. He is born.
She tried to respond, but her mouth wouldn’t move. She attempted to struggle but remained bound tight.
In time, he will free you from your failure. But, now I need your mind for plans must be put forward for the End of Days.
She knew she would remain ensnared, a punishment for failing the son of the Morning, the Great Dragon.
Your peoples are scattered; few remain. Your resources are few but will grow in time. You will free your beasts to find the Redeemer and destroy him.
If I destroy him, how will he free me? She thought.
If you destroy him, it will not matter, for I will rule this land with you at my side, my Shadow Queen.
It was a promise she had received before. One that Abaddon had failed to uphold. He blamed her for her failure that led to her captivity and the Great Dragon being sealed away, unable to enter the world of man.
What must I do? She asked.
He began to unfold his plan. Brilliant in its overall simplicity, yet intricate and delicate to pull off. This would require years of planning. Her body would remain immobile, only her mind able to function.
Contained within her tower’s lower levels of her tower she ordered the Kaijū to awaken and find the Redeemer.
***
Most people that met him considered him intense and often intimidating. Those who knew him frequently added fear to that list.
Abendroth had achieved the rank of Shafra Raisia in what he had been told was record time. He spent his youth and teen years training with the sword day and night, pushing his body beyond exhaustion. But, unfortunately, he had never been allowed to have the hallmark of the Shafra Raisia, the exquisite blade etched with dragons made of Lapis Lazuli. The only way to earn one of those blades was to defeat another Shafra Raisia in combat. He had tried to get the best blacksmiths in Amaröbi to make one, but the skill to forge it and the magic he suspected had to be used was long gone.
Instead, he founded The Society of the Holy Vehm, a secret society he ruled with an iron fist. Each member swore a blood oath to him, and in turn, he trained them in the way of the sword. The Vehm had a mission that only he fully understood. It had been five years, and he knew it would be many more before he could move against the Order of Isik.
Once the oath had been made, one of the Vehm’s Stuhlherren or judges would move his sword across the initiates’ throats, drawing a few drops of blood to serve as a silent reminder of the fate that awaited all traitors to the Society. After this ritual had been observed, the initiates kissed the cross formed by the space between the sword’s blade and hilt, smearing the blood from their neck onto it. Below the Stuhlherren rank was the deputy judges, the Freischoffen, and the executioners, the Frohnboten.
Any member caught divulging any information about the Holy Vehm was executed, their body disappearing forever. Their family would also disappear; fathers, mothers, wives, children, no one was missed. It had only happened several years ago, just after Abdendroth had founded the Vehm.
At this point, only he held the rank of Stuhlherren. He watched the men sparring and knew he would have to promote several of the men to the position of Freischoffen soon. Eventually, he may trust one or two of them to become a Judge in their own right, allowing them to accept new members, train, and promote those from within the Society. He had seventeen members who held the lowest rank of Frohnboten.
Abendroth had moved the group from Amaröbi, his home city, to Mik’Tash city when he was appointed advisor to the Emperor, the very Emperor that would have him executed if he was caught.
Having the Holy Vehm in the capital was dangerous, but he wasn’t willing to turn the fledgling organization over to another.
As evening came, he had the opportunity to sit in judgment of a fallen, a priest of Isik that had stolen funds from the Church. Instead of charging fees, his members would find adherent to the Order of Isik that engaged in crimes, often involving theft, and would present them to him for judgment and seizing the ill-gotten gains for their own.
Today, the man was clearly guilty; the money he had embezzled from his flock was presented as evidence. The execution was swift, and the other laymen who stood witness took the bodies of the guilty to make sure they were never discovered.
Abendroth removed his hood, as did all those present.
“Have the stolen funds been liberated?” he asked.
“They are in our coffers,” one of the men said.
“Good,” Abendroth motioned them all to leave.
Things were going slow, but he was building the wealth necessary to turn the Holy Vehm into an organization to rival and destroy the Order of Isik.
***
“The task set before you won’t be easy, Teishu,” Regius said.
“It must be done if we are to bring the prophecy to fulfillment and the Elrathi people back to power,” Teishu said, his forehead still to the ground.
“Brother,” Regius said, “It is just us; please stand.”
“You are now Regius; I shouldn’t look upon you.”
“We were brothers long before I became Regius. I would look upon your face for perhaps the last time.”
Teishu stood and looked at his brother, who now led his people. Outcasts from the mainland, the Elrathi were destined to return, or so prophecy foretold. As Regius, his brother was both keeper and student of the prophecy.
“Do you know how you will find the Wreath?”
“I have an idea, but it won’t be easy. The stones are scattered. If what I’ve learned from my network is true, the Warrow have lost the Air Stone. The Humani have no idea where the Earth stone is. The Khor likely still hold the Fire stone, but where we don’t know, and the Tir the Water Stone.
“It will take me a long time to find them, though I wish I could tell you otherwise,” Teishu said.
“The Elrathi are patient. So we will prepare and wait for word.”
“My second will continue to receive updates from my network and keep me updated. Unfortunately, I will be without a communication stone since my resources use our supply, and you need one here. So don’t be alarmed if it takes years, but I will find them, and the Elrathi will return to their former glory.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.”
Teishu bowed, leaving his brother and leader behind. He was excited about this new adventure but apprehensive about being able to achieve what so many others had failed to do in the past.
Every Regius before his brother had dreamed of returning the Elrathi people to power, retaking the homeland, and uniting Moirai under their rule. All had failed.
He believed it all had to do with finding the other stones of the Elemental Wreath. Without that, the Elrathi couldn’t rise to power. With it, they would be unstoppable. So he would spend the remainder of his long life searching for each stone, one entrusted to each of the races.
***
“There’s something we must discuss,” Gavin said to his young apprentice.
“Does it have something to do with what the Seer told you?” Greersen asked.
Gavin raised an eyebrow, always surprised at how much the young lad managed to take in and absorb.
“Indeed. The Seer has spoken to me, and the news is dire.”
Their camp was set in a small canyon, located next to the only real mountain in the Malkis Desert, though he had heard about the mountains in the wetlands that made this one look like a small hill.
The day was cool. A rare breeze tousled his hair and short beard. Summer would be coming soon, along with it the scorching heat. Greersen looked forward to it.
“Old powers are awakening. The omens have told the Seer that the Beginning of Sorrows will soon become a reality. The Chosen is stirring among the humani, and soon dark powers will be unleashed on Moirai.
“They said that you will play a role in the apocalypse to come, but your role is not clear to them yet.”
“Did the Seer say what is to come?”
“She said dragons and shadows. Four heads of the red dragon are stirring. The black dragon has awakened. Debauchery and wealth flow throughout Moirai. She proclaimed the First Seal has been broken.”
“The Khor have been preparing for this time since before I was born,” Greersen said. “Why would I play a role more than any other?”
“I wish I knew. But, for now, I’ve been told to wait and watch. The Seer gave me this,” Gavin showed Greersen an old artifact.
“It looks ancient. What is it?”
“I’m told it will show you the way when the time is right. I will revisit the Seer once this tells us more.”
“She believes the Chosen is living among the people now. Do we know if the Chosen is Khor? Humani? Tir? Something else?”
“The thing with prophecy and even Seer’s is things can often be interpreted differently. We all have preconceived ideas and base assumptions about everything in life. How someone interprets prophecy, or even a Seer’s riddle will be viewed and understood based on this.”
“What do I have to do now?” Greersen asked.
“Now? You will take more time to learn. While you excel with your combat and battlefield tactics, you must study strategy and diplomacy. You need to learn what it means to lead. I had hoped you had more time before you needed to learn these lessons, but I fear your time is running out, and my plan for you has changed as you will become a tool of the Seer.”
“More Wei Chi?” Greersen groaned. He could hold his own in a game of Chaturanga. Wei Chi was another matter. Gavin would often tell him ‘strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat.’
“You have a gift for tactics, which blinds you to the larger picture; strategy. They are two sides of the same coin. Tactics can help in a particular situation, but if you don’t have an overall plan or a larger goal, how do you know if you’ve ever achieved victory? Winning a fight but losing the war happens to those who don’t look at the larger picture.
“On the battlefield, you can sacrifice a crucial piece to win a fight. But when you are the War Leader in charge of multiple War Bands, you must understand the repercussions of sacrifice on a larger scale.
“Do you risk an entire War Band with hundreds of lives to defeat an enemy?”
“If necessary,” Greersen answered.
“But how will you know if it is necessary? How do you know that you won’t need the skill of that War Band at a later time, in another encounter?”
“There are other War Bands with similar abilities,” Greersen countered.
“You are assuming you can replace them with another group. However, if you took the time to strategize, plan, and work through future needs and goals, you will better understand what can or cannot be sacrificed.”
“Like in Chaturanga, when I sacrifice a piece, knowing I’m several moves ahead, so the sacrifice is acceptable.”
“Yes, but your focus is still too narrow. You need to focus on the larger picture. You are correct in that there are similarities, but Wei Chi encompasses more than just stones on the board. The stones play a role, but the territory is the goal. Can you give ground you have gained, knowing it will lead to a more extensive domain? Will you be able to defend and expand that larger territory? Is your opponent going to be able to encompass it and defeat it?”
“Wei Chi is boring, though.” Greersen groaned.
“That tells me you don’t understand it. You live for the thrill of the battle, for the individual encounter. Think of it in a political sense. Yes, you can debate and win the debate. But is that win valuable to your clan?”
“Why would I debate something that isn’t valuable to the clan?” Greersen countered.
“Often hot heads prevail. People get hung up on defending a point out of pride without realizing they are sacrificing the clan’s honor. Knowing the whole story, the entire plan will help you know when to swallow your pride and what hill you should be willing to die on.”
Greersen had heard similar before. So he enjoyed being in the moment, the duel, and the combat that he had put off learning the strategy. But, if what the Seer had said was true, he needed to buckle down and begin to learn what he could from his mentor.
