A massive boulder flew through the air before crashing into a group of armored men, shouting and the clashing of blades filled the air throughout this battlefield.
A young man blocked an overhead slash, pushing it to the side before he stepped around the opponent and with a swift slash he beheaded the attacker; his eyes darted around frantically, watching the sea of death and despair with a waned breath.
Turning his head he quickly picked up a shield and blocked an arrow, the archer circling back on his horse.
Picking up a spear he watched the Archer draw his bow, quickly hoisting the spear over his shoulder he threw it straight into the chest of the archer, knocking them off of their horse.
With trembling hands he struggled to pull his helmet off, dropping onto the blood soaked grass, panting heavily.
"HARRATH!" A raspy male voice shouted, the young man looked over at the voice, struggling to find the man amongst the bodies hurling at each other,, before landing on the source of the voice, his commander..
He took a step, a boulder crashing beside him, dirt flicking onto his face, he wiped his face and began running to the man, arrows and spears flying around him , he sidestepped a charging horse.
Picking a sword up from a corpse he blocked the spear from the rider, falling back from the force.
The spearman lifted his polearm, just as he was to bring it down an arrow flew into his chest, with a groan of pain he fell from his steed.
A hand gripped the Harraths chestplate, another grabbed his pauldron and pulled him to the backlines.
"On your feet soldier!" The raspy voice ordered, grabbing the back of his armor, pulling him up with a grunt.
Harrath planted his feet to stand, looking at the man, he was gristled, eyes that had seen many wars; like they always look past you and not at you, salt and pepper hair soaked by blood and stained by dirt.
"Boy, you need to go, leave with the others, get onto the new horses and retreat!"
He demanded, his voice as stern as his expression, Harrath looked confused, tilting his head, his lips parting to speak.
A metal thunk hit his chest pushing him back, he grimaced as he hit the ground watching the older man deflect an attack with his blade.
"DON'T WASTE YOUR BREATH, THE MAGES HAVE ARRIVED, SAVE YOURSELF BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE TO RUN!" He called out, pointing his blade forward for the men he had left to charge as the rest retreated.
Harrath pushed off of his hands and feet scooting back before pushing himself to his feet and running in the same direction as the other soldiers.
His breath was labored and panicked as he ran, right as he got onto his horse he looked at another soldier their eyes wide with terror and soft with acceptance, following their gaze as an orange light illuminated the area; a fireball just larger than a boulder hurdling right towards them, Harrath's shoulders slumped as the blazing ball of death neared to claim his life.
Inside the walls of a distant Kingdom's church, six deaconess kneeled on the outer rim of a circle engraved on the ground, chanting in unison, their voices in harmony; each word in the same tone and rhythm.
"Ohk Lithck, Shinth, Bacht, Murantu Shuvansa, Ioemu Lichtck Tacth Moog mi vasten."
"Ohk Lithck, Shinth, Bacht, Murantu Shuvansa, Ioemu Lichtck Tacth Moog mi vasten."
"Ohk Lithck, Shinth, Bacht, Murantu Shuvansa, Ioemu Lichtck Tacth Moog mi vasten."
"Ohk Lithck, Shinth, Bacht, Murantu Shuvansa, Ioemu Lichtck Tacth Moog mi vasten."
"Ohk Lithck, Shinth, Bacht, Murantu Shuvansa, Ioemu Lichtck Tacth Moog mi vasten."
"Ohk Lithck, Shinth, Bacht, Murantu Shuvansa, Ioemu Lichtck Tacth Moog mi vasten."
A yellow glow emanated from their bodies, small wisps of light sprinkled off of them floating towards a Pastor who stood at an altar with a book in his left hand, a soft shifting glow from his right hand which was extended palm facing the circle.
"A soul of a blessed light, unch minz fuchta un vibra, cometh to be our savior, our rectifier, Mincht fure linchturom, muncht fucht linchturom, BE OUR MESSIAH, OUR GUIDANCE TO THE GATES OF HEAVEN, OUR SAVIOR, ARISE AND BE OUR LIGHT THAT BURNS DARKNESS BACK INTO THE CRACKS OF WHICH IT CAME!!!"
The circle crackled with energy, yellow bolts of electricity sparking against the gold lining of the church, the skies began to darken through the windows, a deaconess lost consciousness; the book lifted from the hand of the pastor and his hymns continued.
"GOD'S CHOSEN SAVIOR, GOD'S CHOSEN HERO, FUCHT SAVORUM ICHTUM, MINCHT SAVORUM ICHTUM, THE HERO OF LIGHT, THE HERO OF RIGHTEOUSNESS, SAVE US FROM THIS DARK DAY, SAVE US FROM THIS BLOOD SHED, SAVE US FROM THE DEVILS VIOLENCE, ARISE, ARISE AND SAVE US ALL..ARISE!!!!"
A massive yellow bolt of lightning blasted straight through the church striking the circle with a massive burst of energy; the deacons were thrown back into the benches and walls; the pastor had a wide grin, the yellow light reflecting from his eyes, his glasses shattered, the dust blowing towards him.
From within the bolt a figure began to form, human shaped, once the lightning subsided the body dropped, unconscious, laying still in the center of the now destroyed circle.
The dust settled, the figure a young man, footsteps approaching to reveal the pastor standing over him, the deaconess surrounded him.
"So young.."
"Father, what do we do now?"
The Pastor just stared at the young man, the messiah the god's gifted them, scanning over his body with his eyes before gesturing for them to grab him.
"Take him to a bed and nurse him awake, take precaution, he is our savior..he requires special care from the children of god." His voice was full of glee, the kind a child has when they speak of a toy.
The deaconesses approached the young man, surrounded him before lifting him together, carrying him off leaving the pastor behind, whispering among themselves as they placed him in a wagon.
"I wonder what his name is"
"I hope he is kind."
"He must be..he was chosen by God to save us!"
The murmurs continued as the women got onto the wagon, riding it away from the partially destroyed church.
The pastor watched silently, his eyes trailing back to the wreckage of this house of God, a smile never leaving his face, his hands in a smooth gentle motion came behind his back, clasped in one another.
He walked to the castle that stood tall in the center of the city, its loud presence reflecting off of the single lense left in his glasses.
With every step closer he took the clouds slowly cleared shining down on the structure, the citizens peeking from the doors of their homes at the Pastor as he passed, murmurs of the lightning strike filled his ears.
His foot pressed down on the first step, walking in the silence of the Kingdom, stopping once he reached the top he stood in front of a massive gold-lined door, the two guards present opened it for him allowing his entry.
He walked through the sterile halls, tapestries of old men in golden knights armor, a crown sat upon their head hung high on the wall, the pastor not giving it even a passing glance as he opened a door, taking a few steps before coming to a halt and clearing his voice.
"It was a success your majesty." His voice reverberated in the room, his eyes on the back of a tall burly man, a red cape draped over his shoulders, his blonde hair sat just above the cape, when he spoke his voice was like a heated knife cutting smoothly through the air yet so threatening.
"Is that so?" His words hung in the air briefly, his ocean blue eyes looking down at the kingdom from his window.
"It is, I had my deaconesses take him off to help him recover-"
"That won't be necessary, Father." He chimed, cutting the pastor off.
"Pardon?"
"I said it won't be necessary, whichever townstead you brought him to I will look after him myself, he is the hero after all..it's my duty to prepare him for his destiny"
"I understand that your majesty but I assure you the church can-"
"You assure me? I don't seek your assurance father, if I was I would have come to you in the house of God, that wasn't a suggestion it was an order, I will take care of this myself."
His voice was no longer calm, an undertone of anger beneath the stoic demand; denying his words would have consequence and the Pastor knew that, with a meager not he spoke up once more.
"Yes, your majesty..I'll leave him to your care"
"Good, you're dismissed..Father."
The pastor turned around and left, the door closing behind him, but the King remained, staring down at the kingdom his family rules, standing proud, the kingdom that he rules.
"The hero has finally arrived..what a fruitful sign of prosperity"
End of Prologue