Prolouge, working title

“Sedilar is within sight captain.” Roxaby, a man well past his fighting prime, sat on top his armored steed at full attention. He buried the map he was holding into a satchel to his side and withdrew an apple. Taking a bite, he let out a moan, as though the apple were a king’s truffle.

“Enjoying your celebration apple already?” Captain Nathaniel Daux could not help but smile as he watched his lieutenant delve into his treat.

The captain was very young, barely a man most said, but he was more experienced with a blade than most soldiers. His looks were favored by women of every town he visited. His eyes ocean blue, and his hair charcoal black. 



His father, a rich merchant originally from Sedilar, had always had a keen eye for instruments of war. He would find the rarest of swords and armor, some even from fallen generals. Nathaniel would sneak into his father’s storage every night and practicing with daggers that were more expensive than their house.



“It’s always the small things that keep us sane, captain.”



“Never have I known a crazed man’s mind cured by apples.” The captain reached around on the side of his steed and grabbed himself an apple.



“And I doubt you ever will. Cause crazy men don’t eat apples, and men who eat apples never go crazy.” Roxaby stopped picking at the apple’s core with his teeth for a moment and turned to give Nathaniel a smile. They both laughed.



“Well I’m sure you’re wrong, but I haven’t a story to argue.” Nathaniel continued smiling as he bit into his treat and chewed slowly. He didn’t mean the smile or the laugh, not truly. He wasn’t happy at all, but he couldn’t let Roxaby, or any of the other ten men in his company, know. The apple was just an excuse to stop talking and avoid the uneasy conversation he knew his men had in store for him. Rumors had rapidly been spreading in the city of Gier, were they had been commissioned to deliver a message. He had made it a point upon leaving that the rumors were not to be mentioned to any they came across on their route to Sedilar.



The rumors were of nearby cities breaking out in plague or being attacked by shadows. Men came into town claiming to have seen devils and ghosts along the roads. It had not taken a day since the first rumor was whispered, that the whole city had exploded into a flurry of gossip and fear. The Duke of Gier had avoided addressing the worried masses, even when messenger with urget haste made their way into the city with , aware that Nathaniel’s company was currently in the city, beckoned for Nathaniel to do a very important task for him.

Nathaniel’s men knew from the moment their captain ordered them to pack and be on the road with the hour, that the Duke’s message was not one of comfort. They were ready with their steeds and outside the city’s gates before anyone in the city had a chance to question Nathaniel.



“That’s strange.” Roxaby squinted towards the city. He stopped his horse and continued peering towards the castle.



“What is it?” Nathaniel scanned the city looking for what it was his lieutenant had seen.



“No seagulls.”



Roxaby was right. One of the most noticeable signs you were close to Sedilar was a seagull flying nearby. Now that Nathaniel thought about it, they hadn’t seen any seagulls while they traveled. Now though, with Sedilar only a few moments away, their appeared to be no sign of the creatures at all.



“Something isn’t right here captain.” Roxaby showed signs of anxiety that was unlike him.

         

Nathaniel looked back at his men, for the first time since he had left that morning. Their gazes that had been searing into his back all morning now met his eyes directly. Not one of them spoke a word. They held themselves on their horses in the same dignified manner as their leaders, faces hard as stone with battle scars both aged and fresh.

         

“We don’t let the absence of a sea bird shake us. We have seen bodies laid across roads, disemboweled, and inscribed with warnings. We still road through and showed our grit to them who tried to scare us off and I won’t have any of us go into town worried about a flying rat.” Nathaniel turned to Roxaby, his face no longer held a smile. For the first time since they left Gier Nathaniel allowed his face to mirror his feelings. Roxaby took the sign and continued down the path, not mentioning his superstitions again.

         

Nathaniel was not a harsh leader. For that reason, many of his men had joined his company. He had always allowed them more freedom than many captains in the Royal Army. Most of them were veterans and they had their own ideas of how a company should run. Nathaniel let them sleep in, stay in town and catch up later, he even once allowed them to invite a group of whores along with them while on a mission for the king himself. Never once though had any of them failed him. They never ran from a confrontation, or refused to leave what they were doing within a minutes notice when Nathaniel had a mission for them. So when he demanded something of them, such as silence, they would go days without speaking a word.

         

Sedilar was within a stone’s throw now, and Nathaniel felt a chill run down his spine. Loud cheering could be heard from somewhere within the city, but no guards stood by the gates. No sign of any guard presence or security was to be found as the soldiers galloped through the front gate and approached the guard’s house.

         

Nathaniel dismounted and handed his reigns to Roxaby, who also climbed off his steed. Nathaniel approached the wooden door and knocked three hard times. He stood patiently listening for footsteps from inside. After a few moments he knocked again. Still no answer.

         

“Where in the name of Hedyira are those damnable guards?” Nathaniel began walking around and peering into windows. There was no sign that any guard was in fact still in the guard’s house. Nathaniel walked back around to his men, all standing with their horses reigns in hand, waiting for an order.

         

“Post your horses here, we’ll have to see what that commotion is inside the city. Perhaps the guards are containing a riot of some sort.”

         

The men all tied up their horses and pulled what belongings they had of any value off their saddles and stored them in their satchels.

         

They marched into the city, passing taverns and homes that were left vacant. Spilled cups of ale and half eaten food was scattered along the road. Nathaniel noticed a strong smell of cherry as they got closer to the town square. The cheering was now becoming deafening as they approached.

         

The whole city seemed to be compressed together, all facing towards a large fountain in the center of the square. Men and women were pushing and crawling over and under one another to try and get closer to the fountain. After a moment of surveying the people, Nathaniel noticed something about that fountain he had not a first. It was spewing gold.

         

Roxaby and the rest of Nathaniel’s men stared at the fountain with their jaws hanging. Roaxaby stepped forward with his hand reached out towards the fountain. Nathaniel immediately grabbed his hand and pulled him face to face.

         

“By Hedyira, what are you doing old man?”

         

Roaxaby’s eyes were glazed over, even as he stood staring back at Nathaniel, his mind appeared else where.

         

Nathaniel saw movement to his right and looked to see the rest of his men shuffling closer to the crowd with their eyes set on the fountain.

         

“Halt!” Nathaniel ordered to no avail. His men were lost to his words. As soon as Nathaniel moved towards the men, Roxaby escaped his grasp and resumed back towards the fountain.

         

“By Agaroth’s flame…” Nathaniel could not understand the meaning of their behavior. He concluded that the fountain was causing some sort of desire to run through his men.

         

He avoided looking towards the crowd or fountain, in fear he too would become enthralled by it, and made a scenic route in a nearby street. He had to get to the castle. By some small miracle, perhaps the Duke would still be there.

         

His worry grew as he ran down the cobbled streets. What would become of his men, crazed by such a device. It had apparently taken hold of the intrest of all the citizens of Sedilar, from what Nathaniel could gather. Would their frenzy become violent? He shook his head and resigned himself to the idea that his men would be fine, if he could just get to the Duke.

         

The area surrounding the castle appeared as vacant as cities entrance. He approached the front entrance and grabbed a hold of the large golden rings secured to the large oak doors. His hands immediately felt wet. He looked at his right hand and noticed blood. The rings were covered in it. He swung the doors open and wiped his hands on the side of his leather tunic.

         

What he opened surprised him more than the multitudes down by the fountain. Blood lined the floor and walls, connected to bodies that were fallen. Guards, maidens, and servants, some sort of massacre had taken place.

         

“Hello?” Nathaniel called, pulling his golden hilted falchion out from its sheath. It was more a challenge than a greeting.

         

Nathaniel made way up the stairs, avoiding nearly half a dozen bodies on his way up. He listened intently and when he approached the top of the stairs he quickly turned to face his corners, ready for an ambush. Still more bodies adorned the halls and rooms. Men and women of high stature had been no exception to this blood bath, Nathaniel noticed as he passed a wealthy merchant and, who he assumed the wife, wearing elegant clothing.

         

The sound of metal clattering came from inside the throne room. Nathaniel took his sword into a stance and slowly began making his way towards the source.

         

He pushed the heavy throne room door open. Just like every room so far bodies were spread throughout. Guards with spears in hand, a couple servants, and a woman so finely dressed that Nathaniel could only assume it was the duchess. Her body laid in front of her throne, a dagger in her hand. Next to her throne, in the tall marble throne, sat the duke.

         

The duke sat watching Nathaniel as he examined the room. He had a large claymore resting to his side, dripping with blood. A helmet laid next to the sword, having been dropped was probably the noise Nathaniel heard. The duke himself was stained red from head to toe. His grey hair wet and slicked back. It was impossible to tell if the Duke had any cuts on his person.

         

“Duke Thane?” Nathaniel approached slowly, unsure of what to expect.

         

“Lower your sword boy.” The duke’s voice was deep, but sounded exhausted. He waved for Nathaniel to lower his sword. Nathaniel let his sword come down to his side, but he did not sheath it and continually stayed vigilant.

         

“What has happened here? The men and women of your city seem to be gone to sanity.”

         

“Indeed they have lost their minds. They have become obsessed with the fountain at the town square.” The duke put his right arm across his stomach and rested it there with a grimace on his face. He must have been hurt.

         

“I have seen the fountain, when did it begin flowing gold?” Nathaniel sheathed his sword, convinced the duke was no threat to him at the moment.

         

“Gold?” The duke’s face showed a look of genuine interest. “I had not heard that. It would explain the sudden change in my staffs behavior however.” He looked around at the bodies and avoided looking to his right where his wife laid.

         

“Did… you kill them?” Nathaniel felt uneasy asking the question.

         

“Yes,” the duke replied harshly. He looked over towards his wife, and let tears fill his eyes. “I don’t understand what happened. One second my castle is preparing for my departure from the city, the next my wife’s handmaiden comes at me with a knife. Had my blade not been readily nearby, I would not have had much of a chance. Her strength was that of which I had not yet experienced, he kicked me once in the stomach, and even through my chainmail, I felt myself break.”

         

Nathaniel continued to survey the bodies. Was the king telling the truth? Why would his own men and women turn on him so. Nathaniel was still not convinced the duke was innocent.

         

“After her, more servants and even my own guard began attacking me. I had not killed since the battle of Gier, but I still managed to survive. I made my way to this room to check on my wife.” His gaze was fixed upon her body. Tears streaming down his face. “They had already cut her throat, they came at me and I used my rage to fuel myself.”

         

Nathaniel could tell that the Duke was not lying. His face quivered and glistened as he recounted what happened. The blood washing from his face from his sweat and tears.

         

“Why!?” The duke used his free hand to pound his throne. “Why did this happen?” The duke buried his face in his hand and wept.

         

Nathaniel felt for the Duke. His sister Minervia, had lost lost her fiance to thieves when she was very young. He remembered the weeks he spent at her side and the hours at night he could hear her crying. The duke was broken, just as his sister had been. The duke, however, was not granted the gift of time to recover.

         

“I had been sent her on errand of the Duke of Gier.” Nathaniel interrupted. The duke lifted his head after a moment and faced Nathaniel, controlling himself as best he could.

         

“There have been other accounts of strange activity such as this from the other providences as well.” Nathaniel reached into his pouch tied to his side and withdrew a piece of parchment. He wiped his eyes and began reading.

         

“Trentwall, as of the day of the third of this month, has been found burn to the ground.” The Duke wiped his tears away and burrowed his brow, listening intently. “Gate’s End, as of the third day of this month, has been found overrun by creatures that were believed to be living only in myth. As of the fourth day of this month, a company traveled to Balan, and found it to have disappeared.”

         

The Duke’s eyes were wide with fear. He propped himself up in his chair while Nathaniel continued.

         

“The city of Verran, as of the fourth day of this month, has been overtaken by forest and vines. Finally, the city of Renare, as of the fifth day of this month,” Nathaniel folded the paper up and stored it back in his pouch. “has shown that the citizens have revolted and are commiting human sacrifice on a grand scale.”

         

The Duke fell back in his seat, thrown by what he had just heard. His eyes quickly moving back and forth as he thought about the message.

         

“These are the signs,” The duke began.

         

“Of another era beginning.” Nathaniel finish.

         

A dead silence fell upon them. Neither of them moved, their steady breathing, the only sign that life had not escaped them.

         

Suddenly, the sound of doors slamming open erupted from outside the throne room. Then another set of doors and another. The doors that were opening were getting closer and with extreme haste. Nathaniel spun just in time to see the doors to the throne room open. The smell of cherry, exactly like the smell near the fountain, flowed into the room, overtaking Nathaniel’s sense of smell. No sooner had he reached down to put his hand on his sword’s hilt, did he feel a sensation run through him, like pure ecstasy.

         

He looked down at his hand and saw a woman’s lying upon it, keeping him from drawing his blade. The skin was fair, like a baker’s sugar. Where the hand touched his he felt a joy like no other. Never had he experienced such a rush of love and joy and pleasure all at the same time.

         

“Do not raise up your sword against me my love.” A woman’s whisper in his ear. He felt weak to his legs and had trouble holding himself up. The hand gently grabbed his wrist and turned him back around.

         

A woman of exquisite features faced him. Her hair was every color of an autumn tree and it’s leaves. Her eyes, piercing emerald, looking into his with longing. Her lips, cherry red. She released his hand and before Nathaniel could cry out for her to touch him again, she raised her hands to his face and held both sides.

         

“You are Nathaniel, a captain are you not?”

         

Nathaniel nodded his head in her hands, loving the feeling of her skin rubbing against his.

         

“You have traveled far to tell this man of what my brother’s and sister’s have done.” She turned away from Nathaniel to face the Duke. The Duke’s face seemed to be frozen as he stared back at the beauty.



“But, he is no manner of leader.” She reached down and placed Nathaniel’s hand back on the golden hilt to his side. “He is a blasphemer, and liar.”



Nathaniel lifted the sword out from its sheath. The woman moved to his side, leaving a straight path to the Duke.



“Nathaniel, what has overcome you?” The Duke’s lip began to quiver again, this time from fear.



In one solid motion, Nathaniel raised the sword above his head and pulled it down, releasing it towards the Duke. The speed of the blade as it flew caused a deafening whistle. The sword pierced through the Duke’s chainmail as easy as bread. His chest pierced, he let out a few gasps of air before collapsing. The woman let out a wide smile and stepped back in front of Nathaniel.



“You are indeed the one I shall call my champion.” She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand.



“I will.” Nathaniel obeyed.