When Men Meet Monsters

Casian ~ Prologue

Our story began long before any of us knew we would have a part to play in it. The end of the world, as we knew it, began at the white-peaked Anduix Mountain Range. Three men clamored up the side of a rocky mountain, each racing the others, desperate to reach the precipice first. The darkness of the night and uneven terrain shielded the men from each other's sight. It seemed the weather itself forbade the mission. Storm clouds echoed deep bellows, and sent a cascade of cold rain down the mountainside. It streaked down their faces and mixed with the dirt and dust from their journeys. One man cursed at his misfortune, another whispered a prayer to his god, and the last clenched his teeth tight and pushed on.

It was the first man who reached the top first, the Commander of War. The peak had been flattened from centuries of erosion, and so was like a field of stone. He stood still for a moment, gazing at the temple around him. Rocks rose to form uneven pillars that once held a grand, glass ceiling, now holding up only the night sky. Along the crumbling wall, alcoves ring a large, peculiar stone in the center. The Commander strode to it and, kneeling, placed a calloused hand over the rock's cold and ragged face. He murmured that the gods owed him this prize, but if he expected any kind of response, he was disappointed. As the rock continued to stay nothing but a rock, the Commander began to doubt that this was the powerful weapon his king had told him it was.

"If a simple touch opened it, then it would not be much of a cage, would it?" the second man shouted above the winds. He looked amused by the Commander's foolishness, yet his mirth did not reach his tired, gray eyes. He had given up much and suffered through his journey.

"This is not the cage." The Commander stood to face him. "The mountain, the earth is its cage, this, this is simply the door. And like any door, it can be broken down." His voice was full of brazen, detached confidence. "It is time for our competition to end." The Commander, decades older and a more experienced warrior, dragged his crescent dagger from its sheath. He lunged. The gray-eyed man ducked and rolled to the side, dangerously close to the cliff edge. The Commander pursued. He thrusted the blade at the gray-eyed man's chest, who caught the hilt with his forearm. The Commander pinned down his opponent with his own knees, putting his weight into driving the sword just a little further down into the man's throat.

Sweat dripped down their foreheads but froze midway down their cheeks. They were so close the gray-eyed man could smell his attacker, the scent of foreign spices. The gray-eyed man wrapped his hand around his attacker's arm and pushed against him. His only thought was survival. The Commander fell to one side and the gray-eyed man rolled to the other. Loosened rocks plummeted down the sides. They smashed themselves to fragments, a distant warning for the men not to follow. Lightning struck above them and cast sharp, angular shadows.

The gray-eyed man drew his own sword and lunged. They blocked, lunged, rolled away, punched, twisted, and the fight continued on. But both eventually began to tire. Slashes ripped through the air, another lunge, dodge. The dagger cut through the air with a whistle, slapping the precious rock with a deafening clang. A fist flew above the blade. Blood, fists, lunging, dodge or die. Weariness took hold of the gray-eyed man's reflexes. The older warrior took advantage and landed a grievous blow to the gray-eyed man's shoulder. The skin split open. Blood poured from the wound, and he cried out in pain as he fell to his knees. He prepared to die, with a silent hope that he would find peace in the afterlife. But before the blade fell, the final competitor joined them.

"Oh, look at that, you are both alive." He paused, surveying the scene. "For the moment, at least." His sarcasm was mingled with a weariness of his body and mental spirit. Compared to the other men, he was merely a boy, not nearly matched to the other two. Yet, he either bravely or foolishly challenged them both. "My kingdom will own this power; you both can go home." The gray-eyed man groaned as he clutched his shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. The Commander sheathed his weapon and sneered at the boy.