Hi Guys,
This is a prologue a friend (Miranda), and I have written. This is our joint account. Reviews, constructive criticism and the like would be greatly appreciated.
Here's a quick summary of it:
A prophesy showing the end of the world has provoked a war that threatens to tear apart humanity before the disaster. It is up to two men and their armies to unite the world and fight back the coming storm. However, their fight is burdened with corruption, deceit and a haze of unholy events.
Here it goes!
Alewyn
The rough stone walls gave way to no light, no sound, and no energy. Silence clung to each living entity in the room, as the still figures of two men devoured the soft ring of light illuminated by the candles. A long table filled the circular room, prophet at each end. They sat, fists placed elegantly on the table; a declaration of stealth. The room was empty, save them, and such a barren, enclosed space left no words unheard. Each man’s breath cut the air.
“Alewyn, I have seen it, surely my head does not fool!” he snapped at me, bringing his neck forward ungracefully. Dominiscus was a small man, hardly bigger than a pageboy. He had spat his venomous power onto everyone for years, including I. Sure, I did not defy him – allowing him to think dirt and scoundrel of me, but I knew better. Everything that came out of his mouth was a message from this ‘God’ of his. A God that had left both our kingdoms with no guidance nor reality, only a faith in Him and His pretentious rule! I will let them think what they may. Excommunication does not scare me. My visions exhume a reality greater than this ‘God’. I only fear that this reality is the beginning of a chaos never lived.
“But sir, what of my visions?”
“What OF your visions?” he chided. He did not deal well with opposition. To me, it seemed – he was afraid of his own judgment.
“You know dreams are not visions, sir. My visions come to me when I am fully mindful,” I glanced up at him. He seemed closer and the table seemed smaller. I could not help but think of him as a snake.
“Boy,” he whispered, “There is a difference between prophesies and your childhood fantasies. What you see are simply fragments of dreams which you conjure up and believe to be true! When will you learn? I am the soldier and you are the sword! I decide when to use you, be it at any cost, and you cannot object. “
“Oh yes, sir. Certainly sir. I did not mean to insult. If you would just let me tell you of my vision. Whether it is a dream or not, I can remember it better than my own face at times. I have traveled all the way down here through the damned winds of your God; it is all I have to tell you – at the least.” His face seemed a little mellow now. It was as if, the slightest trace of pity appeared in his eyes. Pity. From this one-man army.
“Yes yes, I suppose!” he bellowed, staring at me through the crystal-like fog rising from the floor.
“Well, sir. It came to me as a flickering. My eyes could only see the rise and fall of a mass of darkness, and soon, shadows started to dance across my eyelids. I could not see anything else, only these abstract figures moving to the sound of daybreak. But after, there came thunder. Thunder and war-drums, and these shadows – it almost fueled them, sir. Fueled them. The thunder kept growing and growing, the shadows kept looming and looming, all the whilst – voices flung back and forth. Fire soon raged, yet still these shadows seemed untouched; a perfect entity of evil. ‘Completion and solace is only able when you seek out the right hand of God. A messiah will wait for one army. He will only save one army.’ That is what the voice said sir! Damn me to hell if I lie, but I do not jest!”
Silence. I looked up at an expression that looked as impure and ravaged as a wind-storm from the east, and finally, he spoke.
“Well,” he spoke casually. “How will we deal with this… fancy mind of yours?”
I scoffed under my breath. “Fancy mind? Hardly, sir. We must see this as the doomed beginnings of the future. These shadows seem… immortal, sir. Fire refused to touch them. They are clearly a threat to our kingdoms and we must amass an army to seek out this Messiah. ”
“A Messiah?! Ha! The world is not formed by risk boy, nor can we blindly send out able-bodied men, and tell them they are seeking an illusion! God will deal with this, as he has always. The fate he chooses for us cannot be stopped by any force, prophesized or not. Our God is rational, wouldn’t you say? He lives within the Kingdom as does any man, woman or animal. So, send out your army, boy. My army will not follow and you will be plundered to the ground like dead cattle. By God, attempt this and I will sever our ties, personally. Your northern kingdom will crumble without us. “
I would not give in to his threat. I smiled graciously. “Oh yes, sir. Tell me of your vision now.”
It was as if he spoke into the air and the dust filled his mouth. Everything he said seemed… redundant. I could not bring myself to listen to it. My mind juggled with the thought of destruction and the army which my subconscious mind was now forming. If he wanted a war, I would not refuse. The Messiah would only save one army, and I, nor my beliefs, did not live under God’s kingdom. I did not believe myself to be a violent man. I was a man who believed in life. His mumbling ceased, and I looked up at him.
“Well, what do you say now, boy? Does God’s will seem of higher priority than before? Will you send an army to their death? Or will you choose, simply, to have faith?” He chuckled, expecting submission.
“I’m sorry, sir. Passivity was never one of my fortes. I will send out my army, still, and if you choose to – may join. We will work better together, our kingdoms.”
He took a deep breath, walking hazily to my side of the table. Sweat dripped from his forehead, above his vein-ridden eyes, with his fists gradually becoming clenched. “Do you know what you have just done, boy?”
I opened my mouth to speak, in surrender, but his intolerance gave me no such chance. “You have played God, and destroyed us all. There is no future to look to for our kingdoms. Hell will become relative. So, war it shall be. “
He stamped to the entrance of the door, fuming, allowing the cold air in. I could do nothing but shiver.
Dominiscus
Behind my shut eyes the ephemeral images of the future flitted across the dark. Ethereal visions of death and decay, of the world - our world - destroyed and everything of human construction in it as well. I saw fire, and saw people crying, soundless cries that still pierced my ears. I saw an amalgamation of flesh and shadow, and I saw a battle, a terrible war. The war to end all wars. The war to end the world as we know it. The worst thing was, we can not prevent it, and any attempt to do so would be a waste of time, and of resources.
I glanced across at the youth sitting across from me, his faced covered in shadow, and I thought of the darkness in my vision, and shuddered. This room was thriving with shadows, the darkness seemingly pulsing and twisting, sucking the warmth from the air and sound from the stone. The harsh sound of our breathing shattered the silence, and finally I could stand it no more.
“Alewyn, I have seen it, surely my head does not fool!” I said earnestly, trying to convince him. The boy was the youngest of the prophets, only in his late 30s at the very most, and as such he had the pig-headed stubbornness and arrogance that is familiar in most young scholars, who lack the experience of the elders. He was tall and strong looking, but physical strength has no influence on mental strength. He thought he could change the world, he thought he was special, but he wasn’t. He had no control over the inevitable fate that would befall us, and in thinking that he did he would do more harm than he did good. If this was our fate, it was determined by God and no man – prophet or not, old or young – could stop it.
“But sir, what of my visions?” he replied. I noted the mocking tone as he said ‘sir’ but I was determined that this meeting would end well, it had to, for the sake of the remnants of the human race that would survive the prophesised horrors if any do, so I chose to ignore it. I could not however ignore the pitiful argument he was presenting.
“What OF your visions?” I said. His resistance to accept the truth was frustrating, as was his determination to prove to me his visions were correct. He was only young, and he was only just beginning to get used to having visions. This one was probably just a nightmare he mistook for a prophesy, it had happened before. This was no time for him to prove his worth. Now was the time to prepare for the coming fallout, in a hope to preserve some of the human race, so that we could start again and satisfy the Lord, if he was willing to give us a second chance. Trying to second guess God was a futile task. What is planned for is can not be changed, so we should not be wasting breath trying to change it! We should instead be focusing on how to survive through it, and what we need to change to ensure it will not occur again.
“You know dreams are not visions, sir. My visions come to me when fully mindful” Again that slight mocking tone, as if he were chastising a child. There was little time for us to be drawn into such a trivial dispute, but nevertheless I let the sting of anger enter into my voice.
“Boy” I began in a low voice “There is a difference between prophesies and your childhood fantasies. What you see are simply fragments of dreams which you conjure up and believe to be true! When will you learn? I am the soldier and you are the sword! I decide when to use you, be it at any cost, and you cannot object”
The naïve prophet began to say something, but I saw in his eyes the embarrassment of what I had said. Alewyn had talent, that was clear, and he had power. But he did not have the wisdom to know how to use it. He was the odd one out in the council of prophets. I pitied him, and it was this pity that took me by surprise. He reminded me of myself in my younger years, but his stubbornness, conviction and his naivety made him dangerous. The burden of power is a great one, particularly in one so inexperienced. His blathering had stopped, and he waited for an answer. Distractedly, I gave him one, and then returned to my thoughts.
This thought on Alewyn is pointless; my attentions need to be elsewhere. The cold air of the room cut through to my bones, and my thoughts were brought back to the ominous and looming fate of our world. We could not escape it, no matter what we did. It is part of the natural order of things, the cycle of life and death. Each empire has its faults, and ours is no different. We sealed this fate the moment we indulged ourselves in excessive physical pleasures, corruption, war, and hate. God would not destroy creation; destroy what he loved, if he did not think it was for the greater good. From the moment of our creation our path was set, and every day every month every year was just bringing us closer to the events that burn the back of my eyelids. We cannot stop the unstoppable, but we can make the best of it, if only Alewyn would stop arguing for the sake of argument! This is bigger then him, much bigger. His earnest voice cut across my thoughts, and I detected a hint of begging. He knew how important this was, and he needed me to listen. I would humor him.
“‘Completion and solace is only able when you seek out the right hand of God. A messiah will wait for one army. He will only save one army.’ That is what the voice said sir! Damn me to hell if I lie, but I do not jest!”
A messiah? He insults God by proclaiming the existence of a messiah!? God is our savior, not some fallible mortal! He needed to be reprimanded. He could not be allowed to keep thinking these blasphemous thoughts! If word spreads then riots and panic would spread, and we’d be forced to pointlessly search for this imaginary savior when we should be preparing for the terror to come. “A Messiah?! Ha! The world is not formed by risk boy, nor can we blindly send out able-bodied men, and tell them they are seeking an illusion! God will deal with this, as he has always. The fate he chooses for us cannot be stopped by any force, prophesised or not. Our God is rational, wouldn’t you say? He lives within the Kingdom as does any man, woman or animal. So, send out your army, boy. My army will not follow you and you will be plundered to the ground like dead cattle.” In my mind I was praying that my scare tactics would frighten him out of action. He is too young to make such decisions, and the fate of the world does not deserve to be held in the hands of one such as him. In reality, he’s just a scared child forcing the weight of the world onto his shoulders, a weight which he cannot handle. “By God, attempt this and I will sever our ties personally. Your northern kingdom will crumble without us.”
He responded with false sincerity. “Oh yes, sir. Tell me of your vision now.”
So I did. I told him of the coming darkness. I told him of the war. I told him of the death, and the pain. But I could not bring myself to tell him the horrific detail that would plague me whenever I shut my eyes. I could not do that to him, to anyone. He would see it for himself, sooner than he would like to think. My voice was monotone, and I stared at the patterns of the cracks in the stone walls that branched like bolts of lightning from the floor to the ceiling, tracing a path that would eventually bring down the building that was already crumbling. A path that was not unlike that which our race had followed. I spoke vaguely, unable to communicate the sense of loss, of disappointment I felt at such potential wasted in humanities end. I did not speak to him, the youth who cared so little that he didn’t even bother to listen. I spoke to the past; I spoke to the future…if there was one.
“It’s the end of the world as we know it, and we have sealed our fate. For existence to continue, we must make the ultimate sacrifice.”
I stopped, the truth of my words ringing about the room. I focused on him, and found myself thinking that even one as stubborn as he could not deny the reality of what I had said…
“Well, what do you say now, boy? Does God’s will seem of higher priority than before? Will you send an army to their death? Or will you choose, simply, to have faith?”
…I was wrong. “I’m sorry, sir. Passivity was never one of my fortes. I will send out my army, still, and if you choose to – may join. We will work better together, our kingdoms.”
I inhaled. Suddenly I felt tired and old. I stood up, my eyes clouded, and walked to his side of the table. I flexed my hands, feeling the movement of their muscles and the pump of blood through them, a feeling that I would soon lose. I looked at him sorrowfully, mourning the loss of hope. “Do you know what you have just done, boy?”
He opened his mouth, but I did not let him utter another word. His attempt to save the world would be futile. Lucifer has walked amongst men, hidden in the shadows of their souls since the beginning. It is now that he has emerged, and by trying to prevent his destruction, hell will be brought to our mortal world. “You have played God, and destroyed us all. There is no future to look to for our kingdoms. Hell will become relative. So, war it shall be.”
I could no longer stand to be in the presence of the man who would willingly sacrifice the chance of continued existence, so I flew from the room and out into the cold air that sunk to my bones. I could do nothing but shiver.
I'm Conrad Rice, and I'll be your reviewer for today.
