Archer Lumen: Earth's Version of Hell (Unfinshed)[Edited Up to Escape]

Prologue

2012 © All rights reserved

Book One: Earth's Version of Hell

Prologue

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14 B.P.P. (Before Primordial Purge) 

Fallon’s eyes were like daggers, silver chips that reflected the light of the boy’s torch. The boy was an explorer, which already made the Moon god like him. He looked at his tan finger, watching as the tip glowed silver. Then he wrote the name Aaric Salian on the white wall next to him, where it joined the hundreds of other names that he’d written before.

  He turned his attention back to the Scrying floor. The invention was ingenious to be honest. He’d have to commend Maton when he got the chance. Or not, he considered. The Energy god was very cocky. Blowing up his ego didn’t seem very smart.

  On the floor below him, a scene was unfolding. Of a dark-haired teenager in all furs as he entered an abandoned mine shaft. Fallon knew that he’d been dared, but he had to acknowledge the bravery it took to follow through with the challenge. The mine shaft’s mouth had been hard to squeeze through, but Aaric had managed. Once he’d gotten past that, the rock walls opened up, showing a tunnel that was dimly lit by mining stones. Another invention that he’d have to commend Maton for.

  Or had it been his sister? Lonus wasn’t known for making creations for the Garal and Men below, but then again, she never boasted about anything. He huffed, blowing a grey lock of hair out of his face. It didn’t matter anyway. Not right now.

  Aaric’s torch flickered as a cold gust of wind made its way into the tunnel. He gulped, muttering a curse. The dare had been to enter the mine shaft, and bring out the pickaxe that had been rumored to have been touched by the gods. No such thing had happened, of course, but it didn’t hurt to see what the boy was made of. Aaric turned his head to the ceiling, showing Fallon a good look of his face.

  He was handsome, but in a rugged sort of way. For only fifteen, one could tell that he’d been through troubles. That he’d been through bad times. His viridian eyes held so much experience, even now, when he was scared out of his wits. As Fallon’s respect for the boy grew, his name on the wall glowed brighter.

  Aaric looked back down the tunnel, where the darkness seemed…forever. An oppressive force that would have made the Dark goddess very, very happy. “I’ve got to. I promised.” So his word meant something to him. That was good. Aaric Salian set forward, his leather boots crunching the loose gravel as he walked.

  The Moon god turned as the door to the Scrying Room opened, revealing a man of great height and muscle. The Natural god’s emerald eyes looked around, perhaps noticing that the room was dark.

  Then he focused on Fallon, who had turned his attention back to Aaric. “Fallon,” he grumbled. “You still haven’t made your decision. I see that you have Candidates, but none have been crossed out.”

  “Rahthr…” Fallon mumbled as he looked at the wall. “I just don’t like this. You say that it is an insurance policy. That if we do indeed die, we need to ensure that our elements live on. But what of Necrus? Your brother controls death itself. He’s assured us that he’d die with us, but what of his Guardian? The one tasked with keeping his Reality safe? He’ll be able to keep that lucky soul alive for as long as he wanted.”

  Rahthr moved to stand next to his oldest son, showing that the two were close in height. If only the god would cut his wild green hair, then Fallon was sure that he’d be able to match his father’s height. “Ah, but I can do the same. If he gets out of hand with his Guardian, mine will step in. They’ll counteract each other. I’ve already ensured that the boy I’ve chosen will not remember his life now.”