The Prophecy; The Chosen ones; Prologue

Prologue

         The Legend says that before the beginning of Time, all the Gods were at peace. It tells the story of The Mighty Lez, his three wives, his ten children and of how the core of all evil was created. But the Legend is nothing more than a whisper to all the creations that now rule Virmathon, for they, as the Gods themselves, have forgotten what happened before the Darkness...
         If one asked a normal human being that lived on Virmathon years after Darkness took over, they would not know in details how the world was created. They would only know what they had been taught by their parents, and the little of what each God taught their land.

         It was neither Arlim nor any of his siblings that created the world; it was the work of The Might Lez, Father of Gods. For years he witnessed the terrible boredom his children went though, and he wanted to do something about it. Secretly he called a council with his wives; Yrla, Ulvi and Wey, concluding with the creation of the world Virmathon. It was to be a task for his ten children. A task they completed with great pride.
         Years were counted from the moment Time was created, and years passed as the Gods formed life, trees and universe. Virmathon grew with affluence as animals, monsters and eventually humans walked upon it, and the Gods’ cooperation turned into the most complicated, but beautiful creation ever made. The Gods had different ideas and thoughts about what should be around and on Virmathon, and so it was that each God got the name that would describe them for all eternity; Zadrih became the Goddess of Purity, Torm the God of Night, Darii the Goddess of Craft, Thern the God of Speech, Preva the Goddess of Universe, Gemah the Goddess of Trade, Tyrek the God of Light, Nadie the Goddess of Elements, Arlim the God of Humans, and Emoris the God of Monsters.
         The Mighty Lez was proud of his children, for never before had they agreed as much as they did during the creation. His only demand was that he made the rules, and they should not break them. It was a fair demand which all his children swore an oath to keep. “Never unmake what thou have created, for it will guide thee and teach thee what thou didst wrong,” was the sentence that would become his first rule, and the Gods obeyed. The second rule didn’t come long after The Mighty Lez had finished his first sentence. “Thy creations shall be left alone. Never shalt thou have a personal relationship with them.” The Father of Gods, it is said, had a grim look on his face as he told them his rules.
         Little is known about the rest of the rules, but the Gods stayed in the Heaven for as long as it was possible. They liked the thought of being in control, and soon formed the humans into tribes. The tribes grew as they were left alone for three hundred years, and the small acres of fields they had turned into great lands that each God controlled. The humans became more and more separate from each other, but they did not forget each other. They lived their lives in peace, worshiping the God that had formed their people into what it had become.
         4333 years passed since the beginning of Time, and the Gods eventually made their people more like to themselves. The Mighty Lez found it interesting to watch the little creatures as they walked around, doing their own business, and he found himself often wondering what they were like. To satisfy his needs, he called for his two most trusted sons; Arlim and Emoris, sons of his beloved Wey.
         Their task was simple: find out more about what the humans were like in the daily life, and bring the report back to him. Arlim and Emoris accepted the task, smiling to each other. They already knew a little about the human behavior, since they had been the ones who created them. They disguised themselves as humans, traveling from land to land to learn about the different places.
         It was late during weythana when they finally reached the land of Zadrih the Goddess, Zelaria. A year had nearly passed, and their knowledge had grown. Arlim and his brother decided to stay in Zelaria for a while, the purity of the people enchanting even them. Their final report had been given to their father and their task had been completed, but still they did not leave. Zelaria had the serenity their lands lacked.
         Wey only had two children, and it is said that they were the ones who cared for each other most. The friendship between Emoris and Arlim was an inspiration for those who were around them, and as the time passed on Virmathon their friendship grew and was passed on to those they lived with.
         Months passed and the brothers grew rather fond of the place they had settled, and the farmers they had settled with grew fond of them. Arlim often found himself admiring the eldest of the farmer’s daughters, and he, looking two years older than she was, questioned the reasons for returning. But he knew he had to leave. Virmathon was not built to hold their massive powers and their father’s laws could not be broken.

         As Arlim spend more of his time with the beautiful Adnia, Emoris used his time learning the ways of farming. Although he was glad his brother had found a happiness he could only wish to know, he did not like to think of what could follow. His father would be furious if Arlim ever crossed the boundary he had set. But Emoris didn’t feel as much worry as several of the other siblings, for he knew Arlim better than any of his father’s offspring. He knew he would not lose his only full-blooded brother to a human, for Arlim had always been the wiser one of them. He was the only one Emoris truly trusted.

         The Mighty Lez sighed as he watched his sons on Virmathon. He knew what would follow, and he knew he had been responsible for letting it happen. He looked at his wife and sighed once more. He had let it happen; the one thing he wanted to prevent – the very reason he sent them to Virmathon... The future that then had been uncertain was unfolding before his eyes, and he could do nothing to stop it.

         Emoris looked at his brother as he returned. Arlim knew what he was thinking, for he had been waiting for it for several days. He was not proud by that which he had let happen, but he could not help it. Adnia was the one thing missing from his life, and he was willing to give it all up for her. “We have to leave, brother,” Emoris said as he pulled him away from sight. “Virmathon is not our home, and I fear for thy loyalty.”
         He sighed as he looked down. “Virmathon is my home, Emoris, my brother. I cannot leave her, and I am willing to take the consequences of my actions,” he replied.
         His eyes hardened and his face filled with something that had not existed before. “Thou art the only one who truly knows me, brother. Thou art the one person who appreciates me.” He sighed. “What will I do without thee? Thou knowst thou cannot stay. Father hears us even now.”
         He could not reply. His brother had long had problems with the others, and he was the only true friend Emoris had. In many ways he was right, but Arlim did not have the heart or strength to live without her. “I will follow thee to the place, but I do not promise that I will join thee.”
         “I cannot make that decision for thee, but I am glad thou will come with me.” He seemed to smile. “I have talked to father in my dreams, and we are to leave immediately for the tallest mountain in this land. I have spoken to Master Jaminar and he says the largest mountain would be the one northeast of here. It is a while to travel, but that would just give me more time to convince thee to come with me.”
         Arlim smiled, although he knew that Emoris’ task was hopeless. He would not leave Virmathon if Adnia could not come with him. Emoris had always been optimistic, even at times when nothing seemed to be going his way, but Arlim sensed a darkness in him that was as black as the color of his hair.
         The trip to the mountain had been longer than Arlim had expected, and for each day that passed Emoris tried harder to convince him to leave Virmathon. But he had made up his mind. What would happen to him and his land was in the hands of his great father, but he did not fear. He deserved whatever fate that awaited him.
         “My sons,” he greeted as they climbed the mountain, “I greet ye with a heavy heart.”
         Emoris sighed. “And we greet thee back, hoping thou will show mercy on us,” he replied.
         The Mighty Lez’ face was formed in the clouds, and an opening was formed beside him. His hollow and all-knowing eyes faced Arlim as a heavy sigh echoed from the heaven. “Thou have thy mother’s will,” he said. “And it seems I cannot stop thy decision, but I wish I can persuade thee to think about this before making it final.”
         He dropped to one knee as he stopped walking. “It already is, Mighty One, but I will do as thou say.”
         He nodded as he looked at Emoris once more. “Come home, my son, and let us return two days from now. At least I can count on thee to make the right choice.”
         Emoris bowed, looking at his brother before he stepped onto the bridge his father had made. “I wish thee all the best, brother, but I hope thou choose a life with those whom thou belong with. Virmathon is not meant to deal with our kind in other ways than through prayers.”
         He smiled at him. “I think thou knowst where my heart lies, but I will consider thy words carefully.”
         The faces of The Mighty Lez and Emoris disappeared as the gates to the divine were closed. Arlim knew that this moment would be that which would change the world. The night that followed was troubling and sleepless. He used all his recourses to ask a question he already knew the answer to, consulting with his closest sister, Zadrih, and with his mother. They always spoke with wisdom, their words saying all that he needed to hear, but yet words that were neutral to his situation.
         The Mighty Lez and Emoris returned when the sun awoke the second day, as they had promised. Their faces were grave, and Emoris seemed changed as he looked at his brother in shame. “Thy decision disappoints us,” The Mighty Lez said as Arlim told them the news. “I cannot let thee be one of us any longer, so I am forced to turn my back on thee. Thou art no longer a son of The Mighty Lez.”
         Arlim looked at the ground as he dropped to one knee. “Thou art being kind to me, Almighty Lez. Thy mercy knows no limits.” He sighed. “But what of my powers and my immortality?”
         “I have neither the right nor the powers to take from thee what was thine by birth, nor canst thou die of age. However, lethal wounds and pain can kill thee as it can kill humans.”
         He nodded. “And what of my land?”
         His face slowly faded from the sky. “They still worship thee, even though the news has reached even them. Their loyalty is greater than what can be expected of their kind. Thou should be proud.”
         He smiled. “I am.”
         He sighed as his face disappeared completely. “I had hoped thou would change thy mind, but it seems thou have my stubbornness. Farewell, Arlim Humangod,” he said in a whisper.
         “Farewell, Mighty One.” He stood up, turning away to leave as he saw the sad face of his brother. “I hope thou will forgive me one day, brother.”
         He shook his head as he sighed. “Thou art no longer my brother, Arlim. Thou canst never again be called a God. What thou hath done shames us all, even if it has strengthened the devotion of thy people. Only from here can they hear thy replies, and thou would be wise not to use thy powers in public.” Once more he sighed, but with no more words to say also he disappeared from the sky.
         The moment Arlim returned to the farm he was met by Adnia’s arms. Two years had passed since he first met her, and he did not hesitate on asking her father’s permission to marry her. He had waited long enough.

         The years on Virmathon passed, and Arlim and Adnia moved from her father’s farm, building something that would become a small village on the east coast of Zelaria. They, themselves, lived in a house a few miles from the little village. Emoris watched as anger filled his mind. Her beauty had enchanted his brother away from his oath, and Emoris developed a deep hatred for human females.
         Several times he tried to talk his father into making it right; ending Arlim’s existence, but The Mighty Lez could not. Whenever someone mentioned Arlim’s name he grew sad and cold, not talking and not stirring from his place for Virmathon days. Arlim had changed not only Virmathon, but also the Heaven. The remaining nine children of The Mighty Lez devoted themselves to their land, growing more distant from each other and Emoris more than any. Arlim was his only true sibling, and the others knew nothing about him. He never had bonded with them as Arlim did.
         But all he could do was watch. He had no power to convince his father to take Arlim’s life, nor the proof to make him believe him… Until Zor was born. Five years from when he and Arlim first walked on Virmathon had passed, three since he had returned, and all his waiting and trying was at an end. Zor had inherited his father’s powers and immortality, and this could be used against him. Emoris would finally have his revenge.

         The Mighty Lez looked at his son in confusion, although he knew what he really wanted. “Emoris,” he sighed, “as my Wey’s last son, I cannot let thee fall as well.”
         “But, Almighty Father, listen to what I have to say. Zor’s existence already weakens Virmathon. If all Arlim’s children inherit this condition, Virmathon will be destroyed. It was not built to carry such a weight,” he protested. “It is with a heavy heart I ask this of thee, but for the good of Virmathon; kill Zor and do not let Arlim have more children.”
         He sighed, as all of Emoris’ thoughts were shown to him as pictures being painted before his eyes. Emoris created the evil that would destroy them all, and his intentions were the proof. “I cannot take Zor’s life, my son, but I will agree that Arlim cannot have more children–”
         “But then what of Zor’s children? He will carry the burden on, Mighty Father,” Emoris interrupted.
         He half-rose in his seat, clenched his teeth and raised his voice. “Art thou questioning me, Emoris? Do thou think I do not know or do not see what will happen?”
         Startled Emoris dropped to one knee, looking away from him. “Nay, Almighty One. Forgive me…” he stammered, his voice filled with fear.
         “Good, then hear me finished. I will make it so that Zor can only have two, where only the second will inherit the condition, as thou say. It will be my gift to the humans, and Virmathon will adapt to it. Thy anger and hatred for thy brother will not stop by ending his life. Erasing all traces of him doth not change what he hath done, and thou need to let go of thy hatred. Terrible things will happen if not.”
         “Yea, father.” Emoris left, but his hatred was stronger than before.
         The Mighty Lez was worried, and he looked at his beloved Wey who stood at his side. How brutally she would suffer for the choices of her sons…

         Wey loved her sons more than everything, but she could not let Emoris destroy the last of the peace that was left in Heaven. Arlim had been the core of all good, keeping the children sane and peaceful, but now it was different. Emoris’ hatred and bitterness had affected Gemah’s need for blood and trade, and Tyrek’s lust for power and his father’s place. She knew she would suffer for what she did, but something had to be done. The Mighty Lez had not listened, no matter how many times she showed him what would follow, and she had left his room in anger, hoping that some sleep would make her gain strength to try again.
         But she had been wrong, and failed to see what her son had planned for her as she slept. As his human-made dagger entered her back, she screamed loud enough for it to be heard on Virmathon. He left her there to die in his brother’s bed… “My son,” she said, making one last attempt to reveal the truth, “thy brother’s hatred hath taken him further than even I could see. Arlim, I need thee to tell thy father who ended my life. He will not listen to me… I wish it had ended differently, but it seems Destiny knows something we do not.”

         Zor grew fast, and Arlim could not have been prouder. His powers had obviously been passed down, and the villagers became victims of his brutal child’s play. It had not been long since they had all left the little village they had built, but Arlim was not sad. He could not have asked for more than what he had, and he was grateful.
         But his peace would be broken by a terrible conversation with his mother, and that night would turn out to be longest of his life. The Mighty Lez visited his troubled dreams soon after he had spoken to his mother, and all his sorrows became a gruesome reality. “Lost Son,” he said, “I bring terrible news. As thou already know thy son hath inherited thy powers, but Virmathon cannot handle too much of such a burden, so thou cannot have more children. Also, from this day on, thy son can only have two, where the youngest will have his gift and pass down the heir. I trust thee to teach thy son well, so he can teach his.” He smiled, but only for a small moment. “I am sad to see the consequence of thy choices, my son, for my beautiful Wey hath fallen by a human-made blade…”
         “Forgive me for interrupting thee, Almighty Father,” Arlim carefully said, “but I bring thee important news from my mother. She asked me to reveal to thee her killer, if thou were willing to listen.” He sighed. “It pains me to tell thee that my brother hath betrayed us all. He was the one who killed my mother, and I fear he will do more if he is not stopped.”
         The Mighty Lez was silent for a while. “It doth not surprise me,” he sighed, “and I have been a fool not to listen. My actions have led us here, not thine…” He was silent again. “It is I who shall ask for forgiveness, my son, and I hope thou will accept my final gift to thee. Thy place as God will be thine if thou should die.” He faded as Arlim himself seemed to awake.

         He had no choice but to split the Heaven. His children no longer cooperated, but rather drove each other to madness and evil. He had lost a son and a wife, and he refused losing even more. He gathered them all in his hall before the sun arose on Virmathon, telling them to spread as he and his wives split the Heaven. If they resisted, they would be banished from their place...

         But all of those who stood there knew what was coming. Emoris, giving into his hatred and anger, ran forward, trying to drain his father for life. But he failed… It is said that his blow made The Mighty Lez sleep rather than die, and Emoris himself was banished from the Heavens. It is said that when dawn came, the white clouds turned red as Wey’s blood spread out on the floor, falling down on the humans as heavy rain. According to the Legend this is when Darkness took over, and it will not end until The Mighty Lez is awakened.