Well here we are again. Time for me to put my author hat on and get to work. The main story will still start in October 2010 I just thought that I'd drop the prologue in early as a teaser. Reviews will be answered in the first chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this series other than the stuff I dreamed up myself.
"Fear not the future, weep not for the past." William Shakespeare – The Winter's Tale (Autolycus act IV, scene iv).
The old man let out a satisfied sigh. His breath trailed from his mouth like smoke as it was carried away by the freezing winds. His simple brown robes flapped and fluttered in the breeze pulling taunt to reveal his withered and slightly crooked body. The dune he was standing on shifted and sagged as the second member of his party pulled himself up the sands.
"Are we close?" The high voice of a prepubescent child whined into the growing dusk.
"Soon, soon." The old man placated. His eyes wrinkled as he remembered his own journey across the sands so long ago.
The air was thin up here, near the top of the world, and the tang of ozone and oxides was heavy in the dust laden air. Far below them the beginnings of a storm began to gather. The old man subconsciously allowed his weight to shift to the thick staff in his hands, it had been there for such a long time he had nearly forgotten it existed, as he awaited the boy's breathing to level out.
"A thousand moments." The old man clicked his tongue with mock displeasure.
If it were possible the boy's face would have coloured more at the displeased tone in the elder's voice but instead he straightened up, sucked down one last deep breath and continued onward.
The old man merely chuckled.
Upwards they climbed as the yellow orb of the sun sank lower and lower towards the distant horizon. For what seemed an eternity to the boy they pulled themselves up the side of the dunes and scrambled across cliff faces until quite suddenly his mentor stopped.
In the fading light the boy couldn't see anything special about the patch of rock they were standing in front of. Even if it had been the middle of the day he would have had to strain his eyes to make out the marking that had been lovingly carved into the rock. Time and the constant storms had worn them down long ago. With a motion he had been practicing from his own memories of this moment the old man reached out a placed the simple gold trinket he wore around his neck in a seemingly random indent.
For a moment nothing happened and, to his shame, the boy questioned the sanity of his mentor. Then the mountain groaned.
"Ah!" The boy leapt backwards with a shout, startled by the sudden noise.
When he saw it was a simple door he felt ashamed. Ashamed of his doubts and his failure to keep his composure. Once again the old man simply chuckled.
"In." He whispered, gently guiding the boy into the eternal darkness within.
With a groan of ancient metal the slab of stone slid shut once again trapping the two robed figures in total darkness. A faint light flickered into being above their heads. The single ball of gentle golden light filed the small cavern, casting deep shadows across every surface. With a tired hiss the old man settled down into one of the stone chairs. He back and rear slid into groves carved into the stones by the many that had come before him. The boy quietly slid into his smaller, lower, chair. And so they waited.
For a long time they sat in the dim golden light, for a long time the old man stared into the deepest shadow at the far end of the cave. The boy's eyes drifted with his mind, he strove to examine everything. The icons on the walls similar to the ones they had, the white lines that criss-crossed the walls all leading to that one spot at the end of the cave but not shedding any light upon it and the small humming that had started to prevail over the howling of the winds.
"My Lord." The old man whispered and bowed his head.
The boy followed the gaze and saw a faint red dot staring back at him. He screwed his eyes shut and bowed deeper than he needed to.
The faint hiss of static filled the air and the groaning of ageless metal filled the quiet cave. "Guardian." The voice boomed with such power and ferocity that the boy instinctively feared for his life. "Is it time already?" The voice was softer now. Sadder, older and so very tired.
"Yes my Lord. It has been a long, long time since I sat before you last." The old man answered with a faint melancholy.
"Then your time approaches." The voice of the red dot stated.
The boy gasped and looked to the lightly smiling old man. His mentor simply ruffled his hair in return.
"I will last long enough." His answer required no elaboration.
"Boy!" The monstrous voice bellowed shaking lose dust with its power. "What is the purpose of this Order?"
His mouth moved but no sound came. A reassuring hand was placed on his shoulders and he felt the fear retreat from his mind. "We are to preserve history. We are to make sure that even if everything turns to dust that we never forget how we got here."
"Good. Now I will share with you the last and possibly most important piece of knowledge. The Last Great Heresy." The voice spoke quietly and calmly.
"But everyone knows about that!" The boy blurted out. It was true, the story was a great one that had been retold with a passion for generations.
And like all stories it had been twisted with the passage of time. "No!" Screamed the voice, whatever device created the sounds screeching and crackling for a moment. "You have been told a fantasy. A story of faultless heroes and malignant villains. You have been told a lie. I will tell you the true story. Of those who lived and fought, loved and died."
"I'm sorry." The boy muttered hanging his head.
"It matters not. You are young like we all were. Once." A hissing sigh escaped the darkness accompanied by a small wistful smile form the old man.
"My Lord please begin." The old man looking straight at the red dot.
"Yes, yes." The voice whispered. "It began, as always, with the desire for power. The need to control. The hunger for conquest. The edicts of pride. It was a time of fire and blood. A time of destruction. The time we took what was ours. It was a time of rebirth." The voice took on a faraway tone. "It was an infinite war. Where gods would stride across the stars. And demons danced on the backs of men. We were like warring giants in a sandbox. The Universe was our arena to do with as we pleased. However it was not the warring gods or ravenous demons it was the people, those tiny lives that huddled together in the interval between heaven and earth. Them; who vanish like so many sparks in the night. They changed the Universe. And they were magnificent. They would weep, they would pray, they would say goodbye to their loved ones and then throw themselves without fear or hesitation at the very face of Damnation itself. Never running out of courage. Until the very end. It was the dawn of a new age. It was the Last Great Heresy. And I, I was there..."