Blade of Chaos

Chapter 1: Symbiosis

It was midnight and cold rain lingered in the air and soil, draining any warmth. Spring rains had flooded the shallow river, cutting off the huddle of rangers from the hidden route they had used to cross the knee-deep waters. 

Alda didn't slow, didn't turn back when she heard the arrows find their marks, didn't stop to peer at the faces of her comrades as they tumbled to the ground. 

It was getting harder and harder to see death. Each time a ranger went down, she lied awake deep into the night, heart aching, waiting for tears to come. And tonight would be worse, because tonight shouldn't have happened. The troop was supposed to investigate just a handful of mercenaries, the captain insisted. Her objections went unheard. That the river was too wild this time of year was of no importance for the captain, only action - threw people into the fray and count the survivors.

But tears never came now. Alda had stopped crying, because there were no more tears, all spent the day her home went up in flames.

The war had swallowed her from the very start and had consistently showed her a parade of death. Her home was among the first ones to be destroyed – her uncle and aunt scorched to a crisp, farmsteads destroyed or pillaged by raiders and mercenaries.

She had managed to escape with her cousin, both burned and injured, limping through the hills until they were found by soldiers and taken to a camp outside Vilpina. With nowhere else to go, they had lingered in the wretched army outpost for a month. Melandra was engulfed in grief, Alda was consumed by rage. Mely remained to help the healers and Aly signed up in the infantry, one of many volunteers.

Alda rode for an hour before she dismounted and continued on foot to a secluded clearing, where she made camp for the night. At dawn, she picked up a trail that led her closest to the "cursed" temple, hoping the tall tales of the place would keep any pursuers away. It was all nonsense, she knew, because there was just a dilapidated complex of roofless buildings and obscured passageways. Aly would trek the windy paths to the temple with her friends and they would dare each other to enter. That was nearly two years ago... a different time, different dream.

Alda rode slowly, drowning in the past and the losses of the present. She didn't notice the unnatural tremors from the northwest until the horse started fidgeting. Caught off guard at first, she realized the vibrations were coming from the temple grounds. She was almost in view of the road leading to the old ruin when her sharp eyes caught movement and color ahead. Alda decided to follow.

Hidden under the canopy, Alda left the steed and snuck closer to the first vestiges of the old complex. With a rush of adrenaline, she recognized the purple robes immediately, un-war-like and out of place here.

Acolytes of that Godlings' damned order!

Half a dozen of them, keeping to the horses, as if waiting for someone, guarding. Two of them were in a heated argument, pointing to the entrance of the main temple building. Someone was there, someone of importance. Alda had to see who was there, figure out what were they up to. Information was her trade as a ranger, she couldn't let this opportunity slip.

Alda slinked through the buildings, hoisted herself into a low-branched tree near the southern side of the main building, landing softly on the roof, patched with holes from decay. She found a big enough opening and glided down, the high rampart obscuring her from view.

In the patchy gloom, Alda could make out the long hall, the multitude of columns... and a tall male figure facing the wall opposite. Faint mumbling, then a loud crack and the figure disappeared. Hiding in the shadows, she reached the spot where the stranger had been and studied the wall behind.

A giant eye symbol was painted on it- no, carved! and blackened with tar. The...eye was encased in a concave rhomboid, sharp at the edges, reminding her of a tabletop spinning, balancing.