New Story - Prologue
Hey there folks,
While I am working on something, I come to a point where the story needs to percolate a bit in the old brain before I can continue. To occupy myself while I wait, I tend to work on other projects too. This is the prologue (first draft) of a story idea I had. Have a read, let me know what you think.
Twelve men, armed with spears and wooden shields, stood guard outside the Cave of the Eternals. Each of them had trained since the age of eight, competing against each other to be one of those chosen for such an honoured task. To be so chosen, was to be declared before the whole of the great city state of Khalem, that they were the best, the elite. It had taken less than a minute for them to all to die.
Captain Rami Natal, stared down at the bodies of the men she had known for more than a decade. Sprawled around the cave mouth, each bearing vicious wounds across their bodies and faces twisted in terror, the twelve bodies laid, eyeless sockets staring up at the sky.
“What in the seven hels happened here?” she asked though she expected no answer.
“That’s not the worst,” Magar said from beside the cave mouth.
She looked to the sergeant, he stood with arms folded across his broad chest and sweat beading on his shaven skull, despite the cool breeze that pulled at his cloak. His leather cuirass creaked as he shifted his weight and after a glance down at the slowly spreading pool of blood, stepped one pace to the left.
“Twelve of our finest, slaughtered like Katar and you suggest there’s worse to come?”
Magar grunted in reply and tilted his head towards the cave. His usual calm expression had been replaced by one of distinct unease and her expression hardened. It couldn’t be avoided, she’d have to enter the thrice damned cave.
“I sent Pel for a mage,” he said and her gaze shifted from the cave entrance back to him.
“Why the hels did you do that?”
“You’ll see,” the older man said and had the decency to look abashed as he added, “sent for high priest Damar too.”
Rami groaned and shook her head which she immediately regretted as it only worsened the headache she had from the previous night’s festivities. She glanced back over her shoulder, down the thousand stone stairs to the southern gate of the city.
People had already begun to gather, the news spreading quickly that something had happened. That wasn’t good. It meant that someone, either her commander, the high priest of Lord Khalem herself would want answers.
“One day,” she said and Magar raised one eyebrow in query. “My year was up, I was due some time with my family,” she added as she rose to her feet and stretched. “If this had happened one bloody day later then it would have been someone else’s problem.”
“Sorry Cap’n.”
“What am I supposed to find in there?” she asked and his face went carefully blank.
“Not sure I’d like to say Cap’n.”
“If I order you to tell me?”
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
“That fills me with little confidence sergeant.”
“Sorry Cap’n.”
She took one last look down the steep stairs. The crowd at the gates had grown significantly, even in the short time since she’d last looked. Several men and women in the bright yellow and black of the city guard were trying to maintain some sort of order to little real effect. No one was actually climbing the hill though.
One hand ran through her short dark hair as the other gripped the hilt of the longsword that hung at her waist. She had to fight down the urge to draw it. If there was any immediate danger close by, Magar would have been tenser than he already was. She sighed and stepped over the body of a young man she had once shared a drink or two with.
The Cave of the Eternals may once have been a natural cave. Over the centuries though, various priests of the Radiant Son had taken it upon themselves to carve an entranceway from the surrounding stone.
On either side of the rectangular opening, figures had been carved. Supposedly representations of the Eternals doing battle with the Enemy, but Rami had always thought them to be somehow wrong. Few shared her sentiment and the carvings were widely considered to be one of the great works of art, and were at least part of the reason many made pilgrimage to the cave.
Above the entranceway, the usual prayer of homage to the Radiant Son had been chiselled into the stone, flanked on either side by the family emblem of Khalem on the left and the fiery disc of the order of the Radiant Son on the right.
Captain Rami squinted as she stepped through that entranceway and the distant sounds of the city faded behind her. It was always disconcerting to her that no sounds from outside of the cave ever penetrated inside. It was against the natural order of things and only slightly better, was the light that filled the cavern.
She had no idea where it came from but it illuminated the whole cave, more than she’d prefer. In two final steps, she reached the rope that was strung across the cave preventing further entry. A frown formed on her brow as she cast her gaze around the circular cavern in the vain hope that she would see what Magar seemed to think she needed to witness herself.
Despite her role as Captain of the Watchful, those poor fools who were lying dead on the stairs beyond the cave, she rarely ever stepped inside. She had done once of course, it couldn’t be avoided when she had stood with those others as one of the Watchful. Since being promoted to Captain though, she had less reason to ever enter and no desire to do so at all.
That didn’t mean that she was oblivious to the history and the legend that surrounded the cave. It was, after all, the first thing they had taught her, even before the weapons training and prayers. It had always been about the damn legend.
The tale, as she had been told, was that more than a millennia before, the Radiant Son had taken human form to lead the people against the Enemy. It was a war that had lasted centuries and decimated most of the world and towards the end, it was the Enemy that was winning.
In desperation, the Radiant Son had raised up seven human warriors of incredible bravery and honour. He’d given unto them, part of his power to use against the Enemy. The battles were furious and much blood was shed, but finally the seven warriors had cornered the Enemy at this very cave and sought to end the war for good.
Of course, it hadn’t gone as planned. Nothing ever did in Rami’s experience. The seven warriors, each clad in their enchanted armour and bearing swords of shining silver had attacked the Enemy. Knowing what the outcome would be, the Enemy had unleashed a powerful spell, stopping time itself and freezing the warriors in place for eternity.
“Something went wrong though,” Rami murmured to herself as she recalled the expression of devotion worn by the half blind old priest who had told her the tale. The Enemy had been caught in the spell too.
There was more to the stories after that, more battles as the leaderless soldiers of the Enemy were driven back and finally defeated for good. The nauseous blessings of the Radiant Son as he departed from the world to once again take up his place in the heavens.
The rest of it had always bored her. They were the usual tales told by priests everywhere, usually with some hidden meaning about being devout. But at least in the cave, no matter how disquieting it could be, was actual evidence of the legend being true.
For anyone could walk into the cave, stop beside the rope and look into the centre of the cavern. The rope was there merely to tell them where the spell ended, no one could go further in that that, because beyond it, time had stopped.
Heavy droplets of water hung suspended in the air, part way through falling from the ceiling. The seven warriors could be seen, frozen forever amongst the stalagmites with weapons raised as they sought the Enemy. The one sorrow being that the seven were arranged in such a manner that no one had even caught sight of the Enemy, hidden from views as it was by their armoured forms.
“I don’t get it,” she said to the air as she stepped forward, the rope pressing against her legs. “What am I supposed to see?”
She leaned forward and barely caught herself as she almost toppled over the rope. She stared down at it aghast. Always, the spell stopped anyone moving beyond the rope and the barrier she’d expected to lean against wasn’t there.
With one hand, she reached out, over the rope. Her eyes widened as first her hand, then forearm went across the barrier. Her arm was almost fully extended before she felt the invisible, yet solid barrier beneath her hand.
“Oh hels,” she said.
Captain Rami Natal stepped out of the Cave of the Eternal, her expression grave and skin pale as though all colour had drained away. Her eyes met those of Magar for just a moment and understanding passed between them.
“They’re almost here,” the sergeant said.
“Hels,” was the only reply she could think of. She longed for a drink, any drink, but knew the chances of that anytime soon were slim.
A large man came into view as he climbed the steps. His long white robes were rumpled as though they had been worn once already but been thrown on again in haste. Which they likely had.
His eyes widened as he saw the carnage before the cave and his hands instinctively made the gesture of the Radiant Son, fingers interlocking to make a rough circular shape before his chest. His lips moved as he mumbled a prayer for the souls of the dead men.
“What happened here?” he asked as he tore his gaze from the bodies and looked directly at the captain. “Raiders?”
“No…” she replied and was grateful when several more priests appeared behind the rotund form of the high priest and voices rose in an almost hysterical babble.
“Silence!” High Priest Damar snapped and pointed one chubby finger at Rami. “What happened here Captain? These men were under your care.”
Rami’s eyes flicked to the sergeant who shook his head, the barest movement as his stared blankly ahead. His advice and counsel was always good, but surrounded by the bodies of those men she had known, had drunk with, had trained beside… she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
She shrugged at the high priest and simply said, “The Enemy’s free.”
