Tower in the Sky: Prologue

Prologue
         The mighty, everlasting wind of the Mountain’s peak bellowed as it rushed passed Rimar and his men. It caused Guardsman to sway and banners to dance.
         As the gust shifted to the south, Rimar’s cape enveloped his body. It felt as though it were a lover’s embrace after a long journey. It was warm and sweet, assuring him that the peril was behind him and that all was well. Oh how he wished it were so. For deep in his soul, he knew that he would never feel such an embrace again. He knew he would never lay eyes on his beloved wife or watch the sunrise with her. He saw his death rising to meet him.
         Before him laid a sea of terror. An army of foul beast were slowly climbing up the mountainside. Though they were no taller then a man, their ferocious presence towered over the bravest of war veterans. Their hide was as dark as coal and as thick as a blacksmith’s apron. Their vermilion eyes glowed with malice and rage. The sight of their razor-teeth alone, was enough to make the stoutest warrior to shirk away from the fight.
         As the horrific horde crept up towards the Mountain Guard, they began to shout. They roared like dragons, pounding their burnt swords and axes against their melted armor and shields. The hellish din caused all within earshot to tremble with fear.
         Rimar wrestled within himself, trying muster all the courage he had left as he stared down the Mountain at the approaching mass. Never in his worst nightmares had he imagined such a scene. An enemy force on the top of the Mountain of Talos. An army of demons no less. How such an occurrence could happen was well beyond Rimar’s understanding.
         To distract himself from the grim situation, Rimar turned to face his men, gaging their reaction. Fear was evident in the eyes of every single one of them as they beheld the multitudes of the underworld marching towards them. Their faces were pail as snow behind their helmets. Their armor rattled with their bones. Their trembling hands held their swords and shields with such force, one would presume them to break.
         They had every right to be afraid, Rimar admitted to himself. They were but a small force of two hundred fifty, against the toughest creatures seen in the land since the gods subdued Razaran. Many of them have never tasted the horrors of war, nor smelled the stench of the dead and dying. There was no strength to be gained from them. In one last attempt to fortify his confidence, Rimar looked beyond the Mountain Guard to the massive structure that loomed over them.
         The Tower of Amelian had long been the symbol of hope and prosperity to the people of Regānia. Built by the God of the Earth himself, Talos. It’s broad gray marble base encompassed the whole peak of the Mountain. It was held securely in place by large claw-like devices that dug into the rocky surface. The upper half of the Tower was made of the rarest of minerals. Amelian was a crystal with magical properties found only within the hearts of the mountains surrounding the Tower. It appeared as amber glass, but could withstand any blow. Through the Amelian, Rimar could make out the spiral staircase that led to the Main Council Chamber at the very tip of the Tower.
         Since the First Day, the Tower had held the Guardians of the Earth, the Mages. And from that day until now the Mountain Guard had sworn to protect them. The Tower had survived the ages, and Rimar would be damned if it fell while he yet drew breathe.
         Steel determination coursed through him, elevating his courage. “Men of the Mountain Guard!” Rimar shouted over the clamor behind him. “Men of the Mountain Guard! Hear me now!” He started to pace back and forth, looking every man in the eyes in an attempt to capture their attention. “For three thousand years we have sworn to defend these mountains with our lives. An oath that has thus far gone unfulfilled. No more! On this day, on this very battlefield, we shall prove ourselves worthy of the title Guardsmen. No more shall we be known as the guardians without purpose. Defending the Mountains from rabbits and pigeons. Being better decorations for the Tower then soldiers. From this day forth, we shall be known as true protectors of hope and justice. Defenders of the weak and innocent. Our name shall be feared by all who sustains tyranny and corruption. Today, we shall uphold our oaths! Brothers, let us taste glory!” Rimar raised his white-bladed sword high and cried mightily, “Nas Vakt!”
         In one voice, the Guardsmen answered the battle cry. “Nas Vakt! Nas Vakt!” They began to drum their swords against their shields in response to the taunts of their monstrous foes. “Nas Vakt! Nas Vakt!” Their courage grew with each acclimation of their motto. “Nas Vakt! Nas Vakt!” The notice became deafening as each side tried to intimidate their opponent.
         The moment the tumult reached it’s pinnacle, an ominous applause sounded on the wind. The clamor slowly ebbed away as both man and beast searched for the source on the interruption.
         The line of demons parted, allowing the perpetrator to reach the front of his army. “Well spoken, Rimar” His voice was smooth, with a hint of roughness, showing the power behind it. “Your ability to stir the hearts of men has always been quite impressive to me. It is a valuable trait. I can use you in my army.” He stretched forth his hand, inviting Rimar to take it.” Join with me, Rimar. Let us put an end to conflict, together.”
         Rimar looked his foe in the eyes, astounded by the dark orange glow that they emitted. He swallowed his fear and bravely stood up to his opponent. “I will never join you, Demon King!” He raised his sword to further demonstrate hid defiance.
         Surprise and anger flashed through the Demon King’s face as he stared at the blade pointed at him. “You dare raise that sword against ME!” The Mountain appeared to shake as his voice boomed over the loud gusts of the Mountain. Many Guardsmen held their ears in an attempt to stifle the head-splitting shout. The King seemed to gain a dark aura of power around him as he released his anger. “Let it be known throughout the ages, that it is due to the actions of this man that none shall be spared this night!” He continued in his thunderous voice. “I will slaughter all of you and the Mages on this Mountain. Then, I will butcher every last man, woman, and child that I can reach before daybreak!” He then turned and spoke quietly to Rimar. “Extreme circumstances calls for extreme measures. You forced my hand” He then let out a mighty roar. His forces responded with violent enthusiasm. They hoisted their weapons of war and charged the ranks of the Guardsmen.
         Rimar thought he knew fear. But when he saw an endless wave of creatures from the abyss racing towards him with the sole intention of wiping his people from the land, he gained an intimate knowledge of terror like no other. It was as though the Demon King's roar had slowed the very Sands of Time. After what appeared like a lifetime, but were mere seconds, the two forces collided in a mash of steel and flesh.
         Rimar's first opponent fell in a flash. He swerved and lopped off it's head with a mighty swing of his white blade. His world became a blur as the Aistra ī Fwydr flowed through him. All he could hear was the screaming of man and monster as they bashed their swords and spears into armor and flesh. The foul odor of blood and sweat filled the air. Rimar felt neither weariness nor pain as the Aistra ī Fwydr gave him strength and focus.
         Rimar faced his next challenger and ducked the blow aimed to separate his skull from his neck. He slashed at the demon's exposed side. The creature was unfazed as it swatted Rimar with the back of it’s hand. It felt as though a lumberjack had taken a sledgehammer to his head. The Aistra ī Fwydr would not let him stop however. He used the inertia of the blow to dodge the monster’s next attack and stabbed it through it’s right eye.
         Rimar continued to hack his way through the enemy. He did not count the number of fallen he left behind him. He concentrated solely on the next fool to cross his path. Rimar glanced around for another demon to slay and noticed with admiration that, in spite of the overwhelming odds, his Guardsmen were standing firm against the onslaught.
         At that moment, a foreboding laughter sounded over the chaos and pierced the souls of all who heard it with inexplicable horror. Rimar understood the significance of the laugh before he even turned to see the source. The Demon King had entered the fry.
         He moved with the grace and swiftness of an experienced predator. Like a farmer at harvest, he cut down Guardsmen left and right. His grey, silk robe blew in the wind, revealing the dark armor underneath. His black-blade quickly turned red with the blood of all who stood before him.
         As quickly as the Demon King had stepped onto the field of battle, the tides had turned. The demons fought with renewed vigor. They began to push back Rimar's men at a steady pace.
         Rimar knew they could not hold this position much longer. Therefore, he took the only course of action left to him. “Fall back!” He yelled over the horrendous sound of battle. He waved his sword above his head as a signal for his men. “Fall back to the Tower!”
         The Guardsmen broke rank and made a mad dash for the safety of the Tower. The demons pursued them, killing many as they fled before them. When Rimar reached the massive doors of the Tower, he turned and fought off any enemy who tried to enter the Tower. He held his ground until every last surviving Guardsmen crossed the threshold.
         As the last boot stepped onto the marble floor of the Tower, Rimar gave a mighty shout. With his sword held overhead, he brought to bare all the power and energy he could muster. The blade appeared to shimmer as he poured his strength into it. He vigorously slashed his sword at the monsters attempting to gain entry to the sanctuary.
         A magical force shot out of the blade as it cut through the air. It caused those immediately in front of Rimar to fall instantly. The demons behind them were pushed back several feet, tripping and stumbling in surprise of the feat. Rimar took advantage of the few seconds reprieve to dash into the Entrance Hall. The large doors were closed behind him and the hissing of the locks echoed throughout the Hall.
         Rimar leaned against the door to catch a moment’s rest. Pasier, his trusted lieutenant, helped him to his feet. With a knowing glint in his eye, he said, “I always knew there was more to them fancy swords then the Mages let on.” His knowing glint faded into an inquisitive squint. “But how did you know how to use it?” His curiosity and admiration clear in his voice.
         Rimar answered with a shake of his head. “I do not know. I only placed all my strength into the blow and prayed that I would not be skewered.”
         As the last syllable left his lips, there was a monstrous boom. The great doors of the Tower shook and the locks creaked as they strained to keep the doors shut.
         Pasier turned to Rimar, “Those doors will not keep him out forever.” Though his voice was as calm as a gentle stream, Rimar could make out the fear that was mirrored in his own eyes.
Pasier clasped a young Guardsmen by the shoulder. “I have a job for you, lad.” He said giving the soldier a hard look, letting him know the seriousness of the task. “Go to the Antechamber and warn the Mages of the situation.” The frightened soldier shakenly nodded his head in acceptance of the assignment.
         As the young man moved to fulfill his quest, Rimar put up his arm to stop him. “Delay that order.” He said sternly. Everyone around gave him a look of utter confusion.
         Rimar looked around and elevated his voice so that all could hear him, “Brothers! At this very moment, the Mages are performing a spell to repel these demons from our world.”