Prologue 1: The Start of Everything

A boy walks along a rough, dark tunnel. With no light to show his way, all he can do is walk carefully, holding the walls for guidance, and sometimes crawling to feel the ground beneath his feet. Twice had he fallen to holes too dark for him to see. Twice he had fallen farther beneath the surface.

The chaos of battle above when he fell is now a distant memory. How long had he walked underneath the earth? How long ago did he fall? Is the battle over? He can’t know for sure. Under the earth, in the darkness with no source of light, it is impossible for one to tell the time. In the darkness, even the counting of seconds becomes difficult. How long is a second? How long should he wait before one second is complete? Does a single step take a second, or does it take two?

For all he knew, the battle above could’ve been over.

For all he knew, the world had ended.

For all he knew, he was probably the last life in this world.

Yet, his feet keep moving. Why is he still walking, he wonders. Perhaps he still has hopes. Perhaps he believes he can still find a way up to the surface.

Or perhaps, he simply has to walk.

Perhaps, stopping will end everything.

Is there any hope?

As he walks, he yells into the darkness, no longer caring who or what can hear him, “Oi you gods of the world. You who allowed this to happen! For what purpose do we worship you all our lives if you can’t even stop one of your own from destroying our world? You bastards who took our worship for granted. Where are you now?!”

He falls to his knees, his tears no longer can be stopped, nor does he want to stop it. He has lost all strength. What purpose does he have now?

When he fell into the hole, the allied armies were already in full rout. Despite the order to hold the line, despite knowing that they are the last hope of all who live, despite how many thousands lost their lives creating the power stones with which to charge their grand spells, the army fled. The last hope, the final defensive line on which all the wishes of living beings rested was no more.

He tried to deny it at first, but deep inside him, he knew even then that there was no longer any hope. He doesn’t even know if he is still alive. Perhaps this is his Hell, to forever walk in this darkness for not being there to stand beside his mistress, the Priestess of the Holy Song, Selenia the Saint of Starsilver.

“Gods! Answer me! Punish me if you wish! My mistress! Save my mistress!”

He closes his eyes, his eyes flowing with tears and his nose blocked with snot. Regardless, he kneels in the position of worship, and asks the gods with as clear a voice he can. In his mind, this is perhaps his last prayer.

“You gods! If any of you are still listening. Listen to my voice! Punish me if you wish. Burn me in fire. Bury me in this tunnel. Drown me a thousand times if it will be enough. Exchange my suffering for my mistress’s life. I beg you. If a thousand times is not enough, drown me a million times. She deserves a chance. Our mistakes, let it not be her burden!”

The moment he speaks the last words, he feels a bright light shining through his pupils. He opens his eyes and quickly closes his eyes again. After walking in the darkness for who knows how long, his eyes are completely blinded by the light. Yet it is for naught. He can no longer see, for mortals who see the bright light of this presence will be forever blinded by its brilliance.