Prologue

The moon was large that night. Perhaps too large. It slipped through the cracks in the wall, making the lamp light appear wane and ill. It fell through the small high set window cast against the wall. It illuminated the face of an old man. He held the weary, defeated look of someone asked to carry a burden larger than fair. Around him sat a council of 12 men, eerie and grim. Their hands rested on a low wooden table, split by a shard of moon light.

The room was small and damp, hidden away at the crest of a hill. It over looked the town of Pravere. Through its center lay a thin, powerful river. It fell from the mountains to the east, joining a larger river that broke into the ocean. This river turned a wheel half a mile away from the town.Pravere held most of its fame in the huge library. Easily the size of a Cathedral, the library was 3 stories tall. A large research facility was adjoined. The population was largely scholarly, well educated people who maintained the books or conducted research at the lab. After conclusion, most of these projects were published in the library, open for public view. They were tame things; a study of the effects Luxitucis Vermonium (slip weed), a common, mildly acidic plant, mostly used for indigestion, on rocks and other plant life when decomposing over an extended period of time. This particular paper was published by a renowned scholar under the employ of the king, Gerath. While it was a dull read, it had some surprising application in agriculture, helping farmers plant certain things where slip weed is or was present. These were the practical sorts of things researched at the lab, and the community received a steady amount of money from the king.

However, the facility had a more secretive function. In a private portion of the lab, a council of men studied more serious matters. Strictly speaking, these men were philosophers, a science largely ignored in these practical times. This secret order went back hundreds of years. Men who once studied the stars, the turning of the world, stumbled upon something much greater. People were dimly aware of their work, but most passed it off as frivolous contemplation. Few questioned where the majority of their tax money went. Even the king knew very little about their operation. He had little concern with them, until the war. Roughly 2 years ago, the entire attention of the lab was turned largely towards weaponry and transport. The studies of these philosophers were put aside. It was not this, however, what worried them so.

These were the men who were meeting tonight. Their informal leader sat at the center of the long table. His name was Thoden. These rooms were once used for their research until it became impractical. They were waiting on one who carried information they desperately needed. It was quiet in the small room, the wind hushing through the window. Suddenly, the door swung open, framing a dark figure against the moonlight. He was cloaked, the hem blowing softly. Few turned at the sudden arrival. They were too lost in thought to give much attention. The man in the door way entered the room. He closed the door softly, stemming the breeze of chilly night air. He joined the others at the table, finally drawing the eyes of everyone. 

“Good evening, Lansar.” Thoden spoke evenly. 

“Good evening.” Lansar replied. His face was grim. When he spoke, there was a note of urgency in his voice. “The army marches east.” There was little reaction throughout the room, but a sense of dread settled around the men. “What’s more, they are aware of our research.”This brought startled exclamations from a few. 

“Surely not-” 

“Our military researcher,” He clarified. “But that is worse. Much worse. They will tear this place apart.” 

“The king must be alerted, we must-”

 “He knows. But there is little he can do. Alizasgar’s army is much closer than his own. We’ve stocked his artillery so thoroughly these last two years; he has little need of us anymore. But Alizasgar still believes us to be valuable.”

 “Most of our prints have been transported east. They will find little of use to them.”

 “Not if they discover our order. The Meta. . .”

 “If that were to happen, this war would be over.” 

“We have the means to end it. We could contact the city’s engineers; the army would never have to reach Pavere.”

 “Absolutely not.” Thoden’s voice fell over everyone else. “We reveal this to no one, as is our mandate.” 

A silence settled in the room, as the men fell into thought. It was broken softly, by a shorter man, one who looked truly terrified. “What will we do?” The researchers searched each other’s faces for any hint of confidence. There was nothing but uncertainty. 

“The army will be upon is tomorrow, the day after if we are lucky.” Thoden was speaking again. “There will be no resistance, likely no casualties. We have little choice but the leave, quickly and quietly. They will not discover our order, whatever the cost. Each of you will take a small portion of our research, it should not be worth much unless in collection. We will leave tonight.”He looked about the room for objection, but most of the council had already come to such a conclusion. 

Then suddenly the attention was drawn toward the window, where unstable orange light was flooding into the room. It was the light of something large burning. The council rose to their feet, and Lansar threw open the door. He dashed out, leaving the door wide open. The men in the room exchanged horrified looks. Lansar returned, breathing heavily. “The pub is on fire. The army is here.”

Their worst suspicions confirmed, the council filed out of the room. The building itself was built into the hill, the door facing towards the coast, away from Pravere. The researchers rounded the hill and stumbled down the small road that wound towards the city. They assembled on the outskirts. Close enough now to feel the heat washing of the pub. The whole thing had gone up. There was little hope of saving it, though men dumped buckets of water in a desperate attempt.

A militia had formed, of mostly farmers. They had cobbled together weapons from old farming equipment and tools from the blacksmith. They were fighting desperately against a small force of soldiers just north of the pub. Their efforts were pathetic in comparison to the trained ranks of soldiers. For every man they took down they lost three of their own. It was clear that they would not last much longer.

 “We need to get to the lab!” Lansar shouted over the sounds of the fire and the bellows of dying men. Many of the council were staring at the fire, mesmerized and horrified. They moved without persuasion towards the shape of the huge library just a few hundred meters east of the pub. The bulk of the army had remained in the hills to the north, but men of higher rank would arrive soon after the resistance fell. As the researchers approached the library, the river curved under a bridge. As the last of them crossed, one of them smashed a lamp across the wooden floor beams, praying that it would catch. It did, bright and hot, despite the moisture that had soaked into the wood over the years. They moved to the large wood doors that led into the library. Their leader fumbled with a key for a moment, then unlocked the massive doors. The men filed in quickly, and the door was relocked, the key returned to man’s pocket. The library was dark, lit only by a single lamp, held by one of the men. They hurried down the corridor, wide enough for all of them to walk reasonably fast.

The hall opened into a larger room, this filled with shelves. The shelves were arranged rather poorly, and they formed a sort of labyrinth that proved difficult to navigate. Each shelf was stacked with volumes, most of them thin and rather battered. This room was one of four, each possessing books of a single broad subject. Those rooms were broken smaller groups, which were broken into shelves, each 10-20 feet long, holding books of a more narrowed field of information. Each individual shelf was ordered alphabetically by title, but only loosely. Books had a way of ending up on the wrong shelves, or placed at the end instead of the beginning. Another, similar floor rested beneath this one. A balcony wrapped around all four walls of the room, perhaps 20 feet wide, holding more books. On three of the four walls, staircases ascended to the upper level.

The fourth mouthed the large entrance chamber, where the researchers now stood. They took a moment to reorient themselves, but quickly turned towards the right wall, where a small door was pinched between two bookshelves, shadowed under the overhang of the balcony. It took a moment to maneuver through the shelves, and another to squeeze everyone in through the door. They were now in a small chamber, a narrow set of steps running down steeply to their left. They hurried down these, the air growing cooler as they descended. The stone of the walls grew wet from the river that ran nearby. It was a constant concern that the water would damage the passage, but, the lab was well built. They continued down the steps, far below the bed of the river now. The stairs finally flattened into rough dirt-floored corridor. They hurried along this for maybe 30 yards, until the floor became stone and the walls widened into a large room. Shallow windows perched high on the walls, just at ground level. Bright light flickered in those to there right.The fire seemed to only have gotten larger.

The room itself was devoted majorly to desks and work tables. There was a hearth in one corner, set a good distance from the papers that sat stacked on desks or in drawers. Several shelves ling the two walls opposite to the fire pit. These were stuffed with papers and books. Some texts appeared to be centuries old, tattered, there print fading. Others were so new there ink shined in the light of the lantern, not completely dry yet. The man holding the lantern snuffed it out deftly, and the only light was that of the flaming pub. Then a steadier light grew from the corner of the room. It came from a lamp that hung where two stone walls met. The lamp was about the size of a man’s head, mostly made of cheap iron. It was spherical, with a strip of fogged glass that ran around its center. The strip about a thumbs length in width, glowing brightly. There was no flame to the lamp. In fact, it only required momentary contact with some one’s hand. Lansar had his pressed to the smooth iron surface. A moment later, three other identical lamps, each hung from the three other corners of the room, burst alight. The room was now brightly lit, and its contents came into sharper focus.

A door closed at the mouth of the hallway. Men stood silently, circling around their Thoden. Lansar came to joining him in the center of the room.They were silent for a few moments.Then Thoden spoke. “The army has arrived far soon than we had hoped. There is little chance that we can escape tonight with our research. I do not see any other choice but to destroy it.” 

The room broke out into frantic objection. “Order!” Lansar demanded. 

The men fell quiet, but one continued to speak. “We can’t simply destroy everything. This room holds hundreds of years work. It would take centuries to recover our knowledge.” A few of the men nodded in agreement. 

The leader spoke again, as calmly as before. “If these men get their hands on this room, our research is as good as gone. I’ve heard that old Alizasgar has his own group of researchers, who develop much more sinister things. With our knowledge he could seize the whole lower half of the continent in a matter of months. It must be destroyed.”

The men lapsed into further discussion, but before a discussion could be made, the earth shook. The rumble that accompanied the tremor settled deep into the men’s chests. “Siege cannons.” One of them murmured.

 Another explosion rattled the room. The windows on the far wall shattered. They were getting closer. Then the men drew suddenly silent. A sound carried down the length of the corridor; footsteps pounding across the floor. The men look at each other, terror in their eyes. Something heavy struck the door, and it creaked ominously. The sound came again, accompanied by a loud crack as the door split inward. A crowd of armed men poured into the room. They grabbed the researchers roughly, restraining the few that resisted.

A tall man swept into the room. He was lean and fit, his dark hair greying along the edges. His features were sharp and fierce, his expression carefully composed. In the darkness his eyes were deeply shadowed, but they were still quite haunting. His irises were of the lightest blue, almost white, distinguished only by the rings of darker color that cast around their edges.

 “Bind them.” He said casually. Thin cords appeared in the hands of his men, and the researchers were tied in pairs to tables in one corner of the room. The man strode to the shelves on the far wall. He lifted a volume and examined it. He turned and set the book on a nearby table. “Take these books, along with any text you can find. And be careful, they appear to be fragile.” He instructed his men. 

Two more entered, each towing large wheeled crates. The men got to work, placing books and papers in the crates. The man who appeared to be there leader noticed the lamps that lit the room, and approached one curiously, in the corner where the researchers sat bound. He reached out the touch the lamp, starting slightly when died. He touched it again, and the light returned.

“Who are you bastards?” A man spoke from the floor. His head was pressed to the ground his hands bound behind his back. His nose had been bloodied in his struggle, and he was glaring at the man above him with such violent hatred it seemed remarkable that it was not inflicting pain. 

The man above him looked down, smiling cruelly. “I am loyal to the great King Alizasgar. My name is Varin. And I must say, you have a lovely lamp.”

 The man on the floor spat on Varin’s shoes. He began to swear at him violently, cursing his name. Varin swung his foot casually, with more weight than should have been possible. His kick landed deftly, crushing the man’s skull against the stone of the wall. There was a sickening crack and the man became still. Blood spill from his mouth. Varin went back to examining the lamp.

“May you lie a thousand years in fire for what you have done.” Varin looked down again. Another researcher sat up against the wall. It was their leader. His gaze was fixed steadily in the distance. Varin stepped towards him, blood shining on the end of his boot. 

“And you must be Thoden. It’s a pleasure. I understand that you are the informal leader here. Your friend was being rather disrespectful, you know. ” 

Thoden’s gaze remained still. “May I be forgiven for my folly.” He seemed to be praying. Varin drew closer. “May my friends find peace in the halls of the holy.” A single tear rolled down Thoden’s cheek. His eyes closed.

The room suddenly exploded. The crates burst into hot flame. Papers burned in the hands of Varin’s men, setting their clothes alight. The whole room was blazing. Varin himself had been set alight, and the fire burned with a hot fury. His scream echoed through the room, accompanied by a choir of other burning men. The chords binding the researchers snapped simultaneously, and several of them leapt to their feet. Thoden lay slumped against the wall. His eyes were closed, his body motionless. Lansar crawled towards him. 

“Thoden! We must leave!” He was screaming, shaking his friend desperately. Thoden did not move. Researchers were fleeing, dashing down the hallway. Lansar glanced over his shoulder. The room was in chaos. Several men had stopped burning, and were desperately trying to extinguish their master. They had but a moment till they gave chase. “Goodbye my friend.” Lansar looked once more upon his old colleague, then he ran.