Introduction
For ten thousand years
the Citadel of the Lost had stood, guarding the pass from the Valley of
Drowned Souls. It held a position of some little strategic interest
in the eternally raging blood war, and as a result had been hotly contested
for on numerous occasions.
Today had been one
of those occasions.
The valley was carpeted
with the dead. Bodies lay piled six and seven deep. Severed
limbs and piles of innards and entrails lay akimbo and mixed in.
Little rivers of blood trickled their way farther down into the valley;
the ground was already soaked with it. Tendrils of smoke drifted
over the scene like ghosts of the dead, hovering over the broken and still
bodies.
Overhead, the unblinking
sun cast her scorching rays eternally downwards, illuminating the plain
in a stark and unforgiving red light.
The air was still
save for the crackling of distant fires and the moans and distant screams
of the maimed and the dying. The putrid stench of rotting flesh mixed
with the bitter scent of blood and the nauseating smell of burning flesh.
A figure picked its
way through the carnage, stepping carefully to avoid the slippery gore.
It was a man, or something like a man. As it drew nearer, features
became apparent.
It was no man, although
it was human in form. It was male, and armored in simple black leather
armor. It was tall, though not overly so for one of its kind, standing
just over six feet in height. Its skin was deepest jet black and
its hair, which was long and tied back in a ponytail, was purest white.
Its face was elegantly
beautiful, much like an elf yet subtly different. Its eyes were sparkling
gold.
There was an aura
of reserved power in the way it moved, with catlike grace and ease.
And yet there was also a quiet sense of urgency, as if it were being hunted.
Quickly it made its
way across the battlefield, negotiating walls of bodies and the wreckage
of gigantic war machines, always alert for signs of danger.
Suddenly it was brought
up short by the sight of something in its path.
A small, slightly
wilted red flower. It had been trampled, and was missing several
petals. Gingerly the fiend straightened it, gazing at it in wonder.
There are places
where such things as these can exist.
"Going somewhere,
dear brother?"
Slowly the fiend turned
to face the speaker. Another stood there, so like the first that
they might be twins. In build, in facial features, in almost every
aspect he was the same. The only difference was that his hair hung
loose, tumbling past his shoulders. And he wore a purple cloth armband
on his upper left arm. And his eyes were cruel, so very cruel.
"Ariad," said the
first.
"In the flesh," said
the other with a feral grin.
The first sighed.
"I did not think you would find me."
The second shrugged.
"You taught me well, dear brother. Father is very concerned about
you. You left without even saying goodbye." He tsked disapprovingly.
"That's very bad manners, Atrios."
The first said nothing.
"Father feels you
may even have decided to abandon the family. That's just not done."
"He sent you for me?
Surely such a task is beneath your standing."
"I requested the task
personally! Dear Atrios, gentle Atrios... I always hated you, brother.
You were the first born. You were given everything! And look
what you've become." He shot the first a disgusted look. "You're
soft, Atrios. There is no room for weakness among us."
The first said nothing
for a few moments. "I pity you, Ariad."
The insolent grin
returned to the other's face. "Save your pity for yourself.
You'll need it when I bring you before father. I am here only to
bring you back. You can come willingly..." - his smile widened -
"or not."
"I have no wish to
fight you, Ariad. You know I am the greater warrior between us."
"Ah, but I am not
alone, brother!" The second fiend snapped his fingers with a triumphant
flourish, and suddenly a group of creatures came from hiding, encircling
the two. These were not manlike in form at all, but rather slavering
beasts, hideous and malformed.
"I was aware of their
presence, brother," said the first. "Go home, Ariad. Tell our father
that I am dead. Take my place at his side. Do not waste your
life here."
The other considered.
"Yes," he said at last. "Yes, you are right. That is what I
shall do. After I have made certain it is true."
"Do not do this,
Ariad. I ask you once more to let me pass in peace. Take my
place. It is yours. Do not force me to slay you."
The second shook his
head violently, unsheathing a wicked-looking sword and stepping forward.
"You underestimate me, brother, as you have done all your life. And
this time you will pay for it in blood."