Like the title says, the prologue for the Arquenia Saga... For your information, I'll generally have a short statement or something before each part... Anyways, I thought I might say, to avoid further confusion, that the date B.U. stands for Before Upheaval... I will also say that this part of the serial has a more darker side to it than my average post will, just because of how I decided to start the serial, so... Anyways, enough of my ramblings, let's move on to the story!...
Prologue: The Massacre of the Sla’ad
Date: Kornun 27th, 13 B.U.
“The Council says that they will offer us peace if we swear to flee to the Northlands and to never return,” Falshorn said. Dead silence fell upon the group.
“If the Council is to be trusted,” Reynyagn said.
Falshorn solemnly nodded. “If they are to be trusted. It is a risk that we have to take,” he said. He paused. “I don’t see any other rational option, though. We have been packed into this ancient fortress, the armies pounding upon our gates. Thanks to the failures of our previous leaders, the Council refuses to trust us and we have no chance of appeasement. If we don’t make the choice we’ll be slaughtered. They have threatened to begin bombing us if we don’t agree. We have no way out of this fortress.”
Silence once again fell upon the group. Reynyagn solemnly sat down, folding his shadowy hands over his chest. “So be it,” he said.
“Then let us take it to a vote,” Falshorn solemnly pronounced.
“We accept to your terms of peace,” Falshorn said, speaking into the phone. “We agree to leave the Northlands and… and to never…” His voice caught. “And to never return.”
“Excellent,” a voice came from the other end. “We have prepared vehicles for your group.”
“You…what?” Falshorn asked, confused.
“We have no wish for you to stay longer than at all possible,” the voice said. “Open the gates and we will begin to send them in.”
“Oh… Well… alright… many thanks!” Falshorn said, and slowly put down the phone. “Open the gates!” He slowly walked back down toward the Grand Chamber where the rest of the people were gathered as others begin to lower the gates. It seemed like such a good deal… almost too good to be true…” Falshorn had a sinking feeling about this deal… but they didn’t have any other chance… right?...
Falshorn paused, as if he was about to go back on his decision… But it was too late for that now. They would soon be coming down into their underground fortress. Best to meet them at the gate.
He entered the Grand Chamber. “They are sending down vehicles to bring us to the Northlands!” he announced. “They should be here soon!”
“Wonderful…” Reynyagn said… “They’re sending vehicles to help us? Don’t you think-”
“I don’t know what to believe either,” Falshorn yelled, cutting Reynyagn off. “But, still—this is our only chance! Otherwise-”
There was a sudden crash, and Falshorn turned to see the right wall cave in. “What is-“ Falshorn began. Seven Council hovercraft burst into the room, fully loaded with three soldiers on each.
“Ah! Here already!” Falshorn said nervously, as he stepped down from the podium. “I suppose it was easier to break through-” A being leapt off of the lead hovercraft. He looked like a dwarf… but he was too agile, too thin. He in all appearances looked like an elf… but he was too small to be an elf. All of the sudden, the elf drew two corsha swords from his belt. The twin blades shone an electric blue as he leapt forward.
Falshorn’s eyes burned. “What are you-” he began, and leapt forward, reaching for his sordaya. A corsha arrow pierced his heart first. His eyes wide open in shock, Falshorn collapsed to the ground.
The elf gave a roar of approval and leapt forward, cutting down two of the Sla’ad down. “Give no parley!” he screamed. “Kill all of the Sla’ad!” The Sla’ad fled from in front of him. The elf never could get used to them. Best described as being humans made out of darkness, as gray creatures in the shape of humans, the slightly transparent ghostly Sla’ad could only be killed by weapons made of corsha, that burning metal that cut through stone as if it were butter.
Utter mayhem burst forth as more hovercraft came in, bringing more warriors. The Sla’ad were slaughtered, helpless and without any chance to retaliate. Blood dripped from the elf’s hands as he thrust his sword into another Sla’ad, the Sla’ad toppling over. The elf’s hands shook with realization of what he was doing, the ends of his mouth upturning in a bloodthirsty joy. He spun around, surprising a woman and her baby that had been trying to escape. The elf stalked towards her.
The woman clutched her child and backed into the corner. “Please!” she protested. “Have mercy upon a poor widow and her baby!” All of the sudden, the elf heard a voice behind him and turned. His friends were running off of a hovercraft that just arrived.
“Jaigran!” Astrid, a female human ran over, a look of shock and worry on her face. Running up to him, she bent slightly down and grabbed his wrist, and pointed his corsha sword toward the ground. “What are you doing?”
Jaigran hated it when others had to bend down to speak with him, an elf of all creatures! “The Council’s orders,” the elf, Jaigran, said. “After the abomination the Sla’ad did when they razed Fralium to the ground, they decided they were never to be trusted; they are all to be destroyed.”
“All of them?” Astrid asked, as some of their other companions came up to them. “But we promised peace!”
“Where have you been?” Jaigran spat out. “They disregarded their promises, so why should we keep ours?”
Astrid backed away. “Jaigran…what…what’s happened to you?”
“Nothing!” Jaigran spat. “Except I’ve learned how dark the world is.” He spun around, as if to make toward the widow and her baby.
Astrid grabbed Jaigran’s shoulder and whirled them around. “Jaigran… they’re… she’s just a widow… it’s just a baby…. They’re no threat at all… just leave them be…”
Jaigran paused, blinked, and slowly closed his eyes. “You… you’re right…” he said. “She… she’s just a woman…” And he began to walk away with Astrid. But then, something on his wrist caught his attention, and he slowly lifted up his arm.
The bracelet. Her bracelet. The bracelet she always wore… before… before the Sla’ad-
Jaigran breathed heavily, clenching his teeth, as he lifted his arm up into the sky. Something broke inside of Jaigran. And, pushing away from Astrid, he turned; he turned toward the widow and her child. And he raised his sword into the air.
Prologue: The Massacre of the Sla’ad
Date: Kornun 27th, 13 B.U.
“The Council says that they will offer us peace if we swear to flee to the Northlands and to never return,” Falshorn said. Dead silence fell upon the group.
“If the Council is to be trusted,” Reynyagn said.
Falshorn solemnly nodded. “If they are to be trusted. It is a risk that we have to take,” he said. He paused. “I don’t see any other rational option, though. We have been packed into this ancient fortress, the armies pounding upon our gates. Thanks to the failures of our previous leaders, the Council refuses to trust us and we have no chance of appeasement. If we don’t make the choice we’ll be slaughtered. They have threatened to begin bombing us if we don’t agree. We have no way out of this fortress.”
Silence once again fell upon the group. Reynyagn solemnly sat down, folding his shadowy hands over his chest. “So be it,” he said.
“Then let us take it to a vote,” Falshorn solemnly pronounced.
“We accept to your terms of peace,” Falshorn said, speaking into the phone. “We agree to leave the Northlands and… and to never…” His voice caught. “And to never return.”
“Excellent,” a voice came from the other end. “We have prepared vehicles for your group.”
“You…what?” Falshorn asked, confused.
“We have no wish for you to stay longer than at all possible,” the voice said. “Open the gates and we will begin to send them in.”
“Oh… Well… alright… many thanks!” Falshorn said, and slowly put down the phone. “Open the gates!” He slowly walked back down toward the Grand Chamber where the rest of the people were gathered as others begin to lower the gates. It seemed like such a good deal… almost too good to be true…” Falshorn had a sinking feeling about this deal… but they didn’t have any other chance… right?...
Falshorn paused, as if he was about to go back on his decision… But it was too late for that now. They would soon be coming down into their underground fortress. Best to meet them at the gate.
He entered the Grand Chamber. “They are sending down vehicles to bring us to the Northlands!” he announced. “They should be here soon!”
“Wonderful…” Reynyagn said… “They’re sending vehicles to help us? Don’t you think-”
“I don’t know what to believe either,” Falshorn yelled, cutting Reynyagn off. “But, still—this is our only chance! Otherwise-”
There was a sudden crash, and Falshorn turned to see the right wall cave in. “What is-“ Falshorn began. Seven Council hovercraft burst into the room, fully loaded with three soldiers on each.
“Ah! Here already!” Falshorn said nervously, as he stepped down from the podium. “I suppose it was easier to break through-” A being leapt off of the lead hovercraft. He looked like a dwarf… but he was too agile, too thin. He in all appearances looked like an elf… but he was too small to be an elf. All of the sudden, the elf drew two corsha swords from his belt. The twin blades shone an electric blue as he leapt forward.
Falshorn’s eyes burned. “What are you-” he began, and leapt forward, reaching for his sordaya. A corsha arrow pierced his heart first. His eyes wide open in shock, Falshorn collapsed to the ground.
The elf gave a roar of approval and leapt forward, cutting down two of the Sla’ad down. “Give no parley!” he screamed. “Kill all of the Sla’ad!” The Sla’ad fled from in front of him. The elf never could get used to them. Best described as being humans made out of darkness, as gray creatures in the shape of humans, the slightly transparent ghostly Sla’ad could only be killed by weapons made of corsha, that burning metal that cut through stone as if it were butter.
Utter mayhem burst forth as more hovercraft came in, bringing more warriors. The Sla’ad were slaughtered, helpless and without any chance to retaliate. Blood dripped from the elf’s hands as he thrust his sword into another Sla’ad, the Sla’ad toppling over. The elf’s hands shook with realization of what he was doing, the ends of his mouth upturning in a bloodthirsty joy. He spun around, surprising a woman and her baby that had been trying to escape. The elf stalked towards her.
The woman clutched her child and backed into the corner. “Please!” she protested. “Have mercy upon a poor widow and her baby!” All of the sudden, the elf heard a voice behind him and turned. His friends were running off of a hovercraft that just arrived.
“Jaigran!” Astrid, a female human ran over, a look of shock and worry on her face. Running up to him, she bent slightly down and grabbed his wrist, and pointed his corsha sword toward the ground. “What are you doing?”
Jaigran hated it when others had to bend down to speak with him, an elf of all creatures! “The Council’s orders,” the elf, Jaigran, said. “After the abomination the Sla’ad did when they razed Fralium to the ground, they decided they were never to be trusted; they are all to be destroyed.”
“All of them?” Astrid asked, as some of their other companions came up to them. “But we promised peace!”
“Where have you been?” Jaigran spat out. “They disregarded their promises, so why should we keep ours?”
Astrid backed away. “Jaigran…what…what’s happened to you?”
“Nothing!” Jaigran spat. “Except I’ve learned how dark the world is.” He spun around, as if to make toward the widow and her baby.
Astrid grabbed Jaigran’s shoulder and whirled them around. “Jaigran… they’re… she’s just a widow… it’s just a baby…. They’re no threat at all… just leave them be…”
Jaigran paused, blinked, and slowly closed his eyes. “You… you’re right…” he said. “She… she’s just a woman…” And he began to walk away with Astrid. But then, something on his wrist caught his attention, and he slowly lifted up his arm.
The bracelet. Her bracelet. The bracelet she always wore… before… before the Sla’ad-
Jaigran breathed heavily, clenching his teeth, as he lifted his arm up into the sky. Something broke inside of Jaigran. And, pushing away from Astrid, he turned; he turned toward the widow and her child. And he raised his sword into the air.
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