*ok this is really confusing at first, let me stress that the first part of the prologue is from the bad guys point of view. oh, if you want to continue reading this story pls include that in your review/comments*
Zola Chronicles:
Book I- Will of Fire:
Prologue- Dream's End
Gaia, 10,000 years ago
Paradise, that was what people called the world at the time, and the world did seem perfect. The land flourished, and the people with it, if ever something rose to threaten the peace of the world the Zola rose up and struck it down. Descended of the gods, the Zola were a race gifted with holy powers, guided by spirits of nature they were known as 'The Swords of Heaven.' They had pointed, elf like, ears, and shining jewel colored eyes. Among the Zola, one would rise up in each generation to lead their race, the Zosa was stronger, faster, and smarter, then the other Zola, or you could say, superior in every way. But even in this seeminly perfect world, darkness still dwelt in the hearts of men.
Adrika, stood in the shadows of one of the temples pillars. Many other Zola stood in the huge circular foyer, waiting for the Zosa candidates to emerge from the testing chamber. Thirteen great pillars, carved into statues of the gods, were spaced around the room, supporting the wide arching ceiling, and digging deep into the sandy floor. Adrika tensed as someone moved up behind him he turned his head to see the twins, Kianna and Kyris. Behind him, he nodded when he saw they were wearing the same onyx medalllion as him. One by one the others moved to stand beside him, until the ten of them stood, hidden in the pillars shadow. 'Tonight's the night.' Adrika thought, fingering long dagger at his waist, coated with a lethal poison. 'Tonight is the night it ends... No, the night it begins.'
The crowd in the foyer suddenly stopped whispering as the great stone doors to the testing chambers swung open. Twenty boys and girls, ranging from their late to early teens stepped out of the door, and walked down the long sweeping staircase. They were dressed simply in pure white robes, a simple belt made of golden thread, and they were all bare foot. The children stood together at the base of the stairs, waiting silently as the high priest emerged from the crowd. The old man was dressed like the children but he wore an elaborate, head-dress that must have weighed at least five pounds.
'The old man has one foot in his grave, a mere human, and still he wields power enough to decide our ruler. Fool that he is he has no idea what is about to happen.' Adrika scowled, waiting impatiently for the ceremony to end.
At last the old priest reached the rooms center, he spoke to the children clustered together, his voice carrying across the foyer and the now silent crowd. "Step forward and name yourself, child of fate."
The only sound heard in the room was the rustling of clothes as the children moved aside and one of the walked forward to face the high-priest in the center of the room. 'I knew it.' Adrika stifled the urge to swear, as he watched his upstart baby sister face the priest. She had waist length golden hair and large violet eyes, she was small, only thirteen, so young to be crowned Zosa. 'And so young to die.' Dark thoughts swirled in Adrika's head jealousy, greed, and rage, built over years crystallized into hatred.
Adrika signaled the others to lower the barrier, and began to push his way through the crowd as his sister began to speak. "I am Adriana tel Verisahna, descended of the god of Maytheal, and the next Zosa to rule the Zola, I lay claim to my crown, through trials of blood, heart, and soul... and by the right of my..."
"Not quite little sister." Adrika's voice rang out in the silence of the lobby as he strode into the chamber's center, breaking the small circle between Adriana and the priest. "You're skipping ahead, if you truly wish to be crowned Zosa you must face one more trial."
He sensed the others moving to the gate leading out of the temple, its doors which remained locked tightly until the coronation was over. Adriana was confused as she looked at him, "What do you mean brother? I've passed all thirteen trials, their is nothing more but the coronation."
He smirked coldly at her his eyes flashing. "Don't you get it Adri?" He twisted the nickname into an insult. "It's not going to go that way this time, unlike the other times. This time, their will be no crowning a new Zola to mark the beginning of a new millenia."
Casually Adrika reached up and passed a hand over his eyes, removing the spell on them, and allowing everyone to see his now jet-black eyes, so dark in color you'd never be able to tell the iris from the pupil, his smirk widening as eveyone took a step back away from him. "We are the ones who turn the course of history now." As his last words echoed through the chamber the the gates slammed open, and a tide of black uniformed people poured into the chamber.
Somebody in the crowd shouted as people began to scream. "Call for reinforcements, GUARDS!!! Where are the guards!?"
"Oh, shut up!" Everyone stopped moving as magic blasts were aimed at them by the soldiers. His friends stepped forward into the open space until the ten of them surrounded Adriana and the priest. Marek kept speaking. "The guards are busy elsewhere, since our soldiers are already here, that means half the city is burning, and anyone in it has either been killed or will be killed."
Adrika nodded at Marek, before turning back to his sister, his smirk now changed into a grin, he picked up where Marek left off. "And if you're hoping for reinforcements from elsewhere, don't bother. The same thing is happening anywhere there is a Zola, or a Godsborn."
"You can't do this!" The priest shouted, as he lunged at Adrika. Swiftly he stepped aside, and stabbed the old man in the heart, before letting the priest fall to the ground.
Smugly Adrika looked down at the old high priest. He kicked the mans headress away dismissively. "But old man, we just did."
He stepped over the mans body and walked towards his sister, Adriana was staring at him, her mouth parted slightly in disbelief, tears filled her eyes. "The Zola have grown too complacent in these days of peace, we've been assasinating Zola for months now. This, is just the last strike, burn the Zolan cities, and kill the Zosa before he or she can be crowned." Adrika looked at his little sister, his eyes not showing a hint of remorse. "Sorry sis, looks like you drew the short straw."
Adrika lunged forward stabbing at Adriana, she twisted out of the way, but not fast enough to avoid a small, shallow, cut on her arm. Gasping, she fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around her chest as she struggled to breath. Adrika crouched down to look her in the eye, "Don't bother trying to purge the poison, it will just kill you faster, you've only got five minutes tops anyway, but I'll be merciful." Standing, Adrika sheathed the poisoned dagger and drew his short sword, and in one swift move cut Adriana's head off. Turning he looked out over the stunned crowd,
Adrika looked at his friends, the other Forsaken, and then turned to the soldiers captain. He said simply "Kill them." As Adrika and the others walked out of the gates and down the great stone steps towards the burning city, they could hear the screams of the dying behind them.
***
...And so it was that the once great Zolan empire, that had reached into even the darkest corner of the world, fell from power. That night, which was supposed to commemorate the coronation of the new Zosa, instead became known as the bloodiest night in history. With the old ruler just weeks dead, the assasination of the heir, Her Grace, the Lady Adriana, provided the trigger which would lead the few surviving Zola to their own graves.
In a final attempt to fight against the dark armies that spread across the land. General Srystan, the hero of the North attempted to rally the clusters of survivors against the onslaugt of enemies. However it was not to be, Srystan was betrayed by his own nephew. The rebel forces retreated to Tor's Hammer, a thin bridge of coast line separating the north and east oceans. There the last of the Zola made their final stand, the battle lasted for three whole days and nights. On the morning of the fourth day, the ground, stained red with the blood of carnage, trembled as the rebels charged for the last time. At the end of the day, the last of the true Zola had been slaughtered to a man.
But the price Adrika, and his allies paid was high, for Srystan had taken a full fifth of their forces with him to the grave. The next decades were marked by many battles, as the new empire of Aizea struggled to consolidate it's power. Pockets of resistance sprung up over the world, as each of the traitor Zola sought to control their own territories. But, just as a piece of straw is pulled inexorably into the whirlpools flow, so to was Aizea's conquest inevitable.
The world of Gaia became a near unihabitable wasteland, the oceans and the land were infested with monsters, both human and inhuman. Ruled under by the organization of Aizea, which was led by the eleven traiter Zola, the Forsaken.
To stop rebellion, Aizea destroyed anything that had to do with the Zola, and forbid anyone to speak of them on pain of death. But the stories continued, of brave heroes and kind champions, passed down in fearful whispers. From mother to child, and from that child to their children, and on down the generations, hope remained...
Excerpt from A True History of Gaia
By Anonymous
The reading of this book was banned in the year 567 AR,
To be caught with a copy of this book is a death penalty.
