Fate: Prologue

    There were days that the High Regent would revel in the ecstatic feeling of simplicity as rain gently shattered itself across his face. The very core of human emotion permitted itself to scramble childlike in the depths of his heart on such merry days, as the warm rain thundered a joyous cadence across parched and weary city streets.
    Today was not such a day. Rain bit into his skin with icy vengeance, chilling him to a cold, hardened heart, and the only metaphorical rhythm it supplied was meant for keeping beat as soldiers trudged off to prison camps. Black thunder ruled the night, it’s flashing bolts echoing across stone that cooled from the blazes that had ravaged the city. It had been a night of terror for the inhabitants of those molten stones that had once been called homes. A night that had ended too suddenly for too many, without any sign of dawn.
    The High Regent stood atop an elegant staircase cut into the stone, his heart heaving at the sight of his slaughtered comrades, men he had come only too recently to love, too late to save. A heavy boot sent droplets of water exploding in all directions as he took a slow step down the stairs. His deep eyes glinted at the flashes of lightning, dark anger glimmering as a gloved hand flexed around a scabbarded blade.
    Metallic ringing sliced the fabric of the atmosphere as the blade came free with another step of the leather boot. Soldiers had caught sight of him by now, their scattered troops reforming, aiming. A chaotic bullet ripped past his ear, gently teasing a lock of dark hair. Snipers lined the rooftops, sighting along lasers and scopes, drawing beads on his sluggish heart. The main body of soldiers clustered, drawing together with their automatic weapons trained on him as he made his way slowly down the stairs toward them. They opened fire.
    Something deep within his eye flickered, and bullets sent shards of broken stone tearing through the space he had just been. Lightning reflected on the cold steel of the sword as the soldiers realized that he was among them. Panicking, they wheeled around, sending deadly bullets into the flesh of their comrades. The sword flashed once, twice, then disappeared, coldly leaving bodies in its wake.
    Snipers felt its cool breeze just before it bit into their hearts. The unholy sparkle of water mixed with blood filled the night as explosions and shots died out one by one. Until it was at last over and silence reigned but for the pattering of rain against stone.
    The High Regent knelt before a body, salty tears fighting against the fresh rain across his face. The body was that of a young woman whose spirit now laid to rest had been the joy of the Regent’s life. A wedding ring glinted freshly on her finger, adorning it for far too short a time. As he cradled the body of his wife he wept in anguish, tears washing away the blood.
    It was the last time he ever cried.