Prologue

Just below the ridge in the distance across the Dunes of Death an ominous darkness settles far out along with half of the sky pitch black, the other half gold from the sun. Soft heated breezes continuously blow by, swaying the palm tree side to side on the right and wafting a recognizable smell from experiencing many wars: death.

Reith lowers the telescope and his naked eye squints off into the darkness then raises the telescope back up. He just couldn’t believe what he is seeing, something only a story could tell…or used to be a story. He looks closer and sees the darkness moving in fast. Do the souls of damnation come to besiege us?

            Reith closes his spy scope and muses with this idea of the…the Dark Army. This has always been a name that frightened people for more than a thousand years, a name which no one ever dares to repeat, only old stories to scare children like a bogeyman. Even the bravest of men had fear forced into their hearts just from the sight of the darkness itself. Reith wastes no more time hesitating and pondering so he rides off to warn the king of the inevitable destruction awaiting the city.

 

            Barrenia, a city always full of the common estates: the rich, the poor, the commoners. It always has to be so damn hot though. Most people can’t even survive out here. Water and food supplies are gradually becoming scarce. No Idea why this damned place was ever built. King Ilius scoops up his chalice of wine, gulping the rest down and sets it back on the edge of the window, looking out into the desert and heat waves surrounding the city. It seems the city is just away from the rest of the world, no diplomats dare come here and it’s a treacherous journey for traders, most goods and valuables never even arrive.

            Ilius’s thoughts are interrupted by a rapping on his bed chamber’s door. Ilius motions for his guards to step away from the door.

            “Come in. Ah, Reith, what news do you have on the disturbances out in Dunes.”

            Reith’s face is as pale as milk, almost as if he had seen a ghost. “My Lord, there’s s-something you need to s-see. I really cannot explain it.”

            “See it now?”

            Reith nods his head.

King Ilius sighs. “Gods…this better be important. Garrus and Varius, guard my chamber door until I return. Reith, take lead.”

 

            Reith and King Ilius ride on horse back up to the high ridge with a view point of the Dunes more than five hundred feet below. Reith hands the spy glass to Ilius. Ilius expands the scope and looks out at the desert. A wall of darkness creeps towards their direction.

            “My Gods man, I didn’t even need to ask exactly what I’m looking for, but what I would like to ask is if this is real or if I’ve just been living in the desert for too long.”

            Reith shakes his head. “My Lord you’re sixty-four years�"

            King Ilius corrects Reith. “Sixty-six years old.”

            “Ah yes m-my Lord…you’re sixty-six years old and have lived out here for about 50 years, I’m sure you would have had illusions long ago.”

            Ilius closed the scope back and handed it to Reith. “Have you warned the other neighboring towns and villages?”

            “No my Lord I thought you should receive the news first.”

            “All right well move your a*s Reith, we need to be quick. Tell the towns to ring the bells, light the fires, whatever the hell they do. C’mon move it!”

            Reith tugs his reigns and spins the horse around, galloping from the ridge and down the hill and to the left, heading out for the barren desert towns and villages.

            King Ilius rubs the stubble of his beard and muses over the fact of what is happening.

            Can this be possible? It has just been an old wife’s tale for centuries, for more than a thousand years, until now. Why come back now? The last invasion lasted for a hundred years of a battle between good and evil, mankind on the brink of extinction, but somehow managed to push the darkness back to its hell hole.

            A shiver courses through the King’s body. He gallops back to warn his people of the danger coming. This will most likely be very bloody and hope is all the people can rely on now.

 

            Reith rides through the surrounding villages telling of the approaching danger. Horns blare for town meetings and towers light their signal fires. Reith arrives to the last village on the outskirts of Barrenia in the night, his friend Cyrus is in charge of the town meetings here.

            Reith dismounts and gives his horse to the stable boy and knocks on Cyrus’s door.

“Ah, Reith, it’s good to see you, it has been a while. It is nice to see a good friend in such hard times, come on in I was just about to make dinner.” Cyrus holds the door open for Reith and locks it behind him.

            The aroma of cooking meat fills the air around Reith.

            “Cyrus, I’m afraid I have some dire news for you.”

Cyrus’s face turns grave. “Spare the news, I’ve already heard of the dark forces massing at our very doorstep, you would be surprised at how fast news reaches other people and I expected you to be here. Come, sit down and we can talk while we eat. My wife Mirna is a very good cook.”

            Reith takes a seat across from Cyrus at a very small wooden table. Imported bread, imported apples, and some imported meat as well sit in baskets. “How did you get all this food? The king can scarcely get this much in a day.”

Cyrus replied while grabbing some bread and meat. “Well I take the task upon myself to go to other cities and trade for some food. I’ve gotten my share of traveling and I know the desert well. There’s a lot more food in the village storage, there is no need for a granary if there is no wheat to grow.”

            Reith muses with the idea of Cyrus being a trader; it is like him to take a situation upon himself. “Cyrus what if you could lend some of the food to Barrenia, the supplies for it grow scarce there. You can also be a trader for King Ilius and be paid well, I will recommend it to King Ilius himself.”

Cyrus chuckles with bread in his mouth and swallows. “Please spare the recommendation, I do not wish to deal with the king.”

Reith stutters, “B-but Cyrus, this is a good chance t-to get money for you and for the people of the village. The King has always treated everyone fairly and respectively.”

Cyrus guffaws. “This village only thrives because of me and because some people are brave enough to go out into the desert and the cities to get food and money. The King can’t even hold a few hundred gold pieces for the people. He spends it on fancy architectures for the rich, drowns himself in wine and leaves the poor in the dust.”

            “The King tries everything in his power to get food for the people,” Reith snaps back, “but money is dwindled away from the lack of food and the lack of materials to trade for gold. Just for one loaf of bread you eat right now is more than two hundred gold pieces. We are in desperate need of supplies.”

Cyrus just shakes his head. “King Ilius thinks himself too royal to pick the poor people for trade. He cannot choose the right people for the right job of trading and the people who have to live in villages out in the deserts are the people who would know the way of trade and would survive, but the king has never considered it. The only thing he is good at is at least keeping some people happy with his low tax rates even as he lies in debt.”

Reith looks around at the shelves full of exotic jewels and items good for trade. “Where do you find these things Cyrus? The King does not even have such a grand selection as you do.”

Cyrus shrugs. “Like I said, I know the desert well. I help my village and my people and the only reason I have a home and food is that I do not live in the king’s city. The only thing the king can do is tax us out here, but it is a decent rate like I said. I’ve enjoyed talking about the king over a fine meal but…we have more important matters to discuss?”

Reith finishes chewing the meat. “Yes we do. The other villages that have been warned of the danger approaching and are currently taking shelter behind King Ilius’s walls and I think it best for you to do the same.” Cyrus stares into Reith’s eyes as Reith stares into Cyrus’s deep brown eyes…he knew the answer.

“No.”

“Damn you Cyrus!” He slams on the table shaking the baskets of food, “Are you as stubborn as the stock of jackasses you keep! You deny every proposal! It will only be a short while, you can return back to your village, do you not care of the danger approaching?”

“Tell me Reith, what good are the walls going to be against the demonic forces and the damned. The king will be damned himself before long if he does not withdraw his forces and seek another well-fortified city and a larger garrison.”

“Barrenia has been besieged by these same dark forces before and survived, what makes you think it will be any different now?”

“The Evil will know the mistakes they made and will not make a second one. Not only that, Ilius’s people are starving and tired, what match will they be against these dark forces? Reith, it would be wise for you to leave the city and inform the Council of what is about to happen. You’re the king’s Advisor, tell him to withdraw everyone.”

“And what about you Cyrus, do you wish to do the same?”

“I will stay where I am, my home. I will inform the other people of this village of what is coming and if they wish to follow you they can, but I’m staying here where I belong. I will defend my home and people.”

Reith knows it is no use to try and change Cyrus’s adamancy. Reith pushes his chair back under the table and gives farewell to Cyrus, “Goodbye Cyrus, I hope we meet again under better circumstances.”

“If we meet again in this life, I hope your future is better than mine.”

Reith is halfway out the door and almost forgets his manners. “Tell your wife Mirna that she is an excellent cook. Good luck to you Cyrus.”

Reith pulls his cowl over his head, saddles up on his horse and rides off towards Barrenia through the cold night.

 

A knock on the king’s bed chamber distracts him from his work and a familiar voice follows. “My Lord, it is Reith.”

“Ah yes come in.”

Reith opens the door and notices King Ilius shuffling through papers and holding a quill pen in his hand and his desk illuminated by one lit candle.

“Sorry to interrupt my Lord.”

Ilius shrugs it off and replies without looking up from his papers. “So how did your errand go? Successful I hope.”

“Yes my Lord, most of the villagers are going to take refuge here.”

“Most?”

Reith hesitates. “Well there is one village that does not wish to shelter here. Cyrus wishes to stay where he is and fight on his own soil.”

Ilius places the quill back in the ink pot and looks up from his work. “It’s a fatal mistake on his part, and most likely his last. How long do we have until this Darkness reaches us? It seems like it is practically right at our walls.”

Reith walks over to the bed chamber window overlooking the walls but can barely tell that the Darkness was out there on this night but he knows that it is close, he can feel it.

“My Lord, I-I really don’t know, it seems to be close though.”

“Just make a guess. Days, a week, in a few hours?”

Reith squints and takes a guess, “I would say at least in a day.”

Reith turns back around and walks over by Ilius’s side. Ilius sighs and smooths his hand across his graying long hair which once was brown.

“Reith, let us hope we live through the next night, I have never known what it is like to be besieged by darker forces than ourselves.”

 

The next day began with hundreds of villagers coming to take refuge in Barrenia. Town meetings are held and the town watch offer positions to take up arms upon the walls and towers. The trebuchets are manned and ready.  The rest will have to fight if the things break through, when they break through.

Ilius could not think of any speech or way to buttress these simple people for the battle to come. They all knew the outcome, it was simple enough. They now have no time to send for reinforcements from Harkal or Narfé to the west. They are on their own. And they may soon be into ruin just as the city Kyrse is.

The flags of their city are raised upon the towers: a black dune surrounded by yellow. Ilius looks up at the surrounding towers raising their flags knowing it was all hopeless. At least we’ll put up a fight against these things thought Ilius, although in vain to say the least.

Reith sneaks up from behind Ilius and surprised him.

“Sorry my Lord but it is urgent. I believe we should gather horses and supplies for our journey out of the city.”

Ilius glares at Reith. “And to leave everyone here to fend for themselves and die alone with no king to stand beside them? What you speak is against me. I will not abandon this city and look a coward from here and years to come.” If we have many years left. thinks Ilius.

Reith knew his king would deny escape. “It’s b-b-best that you live another day to fight. We cannot survive the siege to come. It will be a matter of days and the city will be in ruin.”

“Then I shall die with it.” Ilius replies adamantly.

“Who then will d-deliever a message to the other greater cities of the danger to come? They will not simply believe a king’s servant, especially of this kind of danger.”

Reith of course has a point. Who will believe that a horrible fate will soon be upon the whole world by the spawning of Dark Armies, almost thought of as a myth until what Ilius himself has witnessed. And though sensible, Ilius kept silent. Reith knows it was no good to persist and so bows his head then walks away.

 

Night is coming upon on the city and the cold settles in. The people rush to the parapets and the women and children run for shelter. Ilius dons his armor and decides to stand amongst the other watch on the wall above the gate. The familiar stench of death falls with the wind upon everyone standing at their posts. Some coughed and gagged at such a smell. In the distance there was only a darkness that was blacker than black to be seen. The damned need no torches.

Ilius glances to his left and right to see untrained archers and swordsmen alike. The fear in their faces, their eyes. That was something else that filled the air that night. Letting fear overtake them was only allowing doom to take home in their hearts and diminish hope. King Ilius will not let fear take hold of him, not tonight. He will die bravely with his city, as little that remains of its former glory that is.

The city was once filled with gardens and sand did not fill everyone’s eyes. There were forests surrounding the area and life support from River Tirn to the west. That was hundreds of years ago, before the Darkness wiped out all the lush valleys and all life within the forests. The river is all that remains on the east side. West of the river the forests still somehow remain, some say protected by Narmía, the goddess of Nature.  Narmía is not what’s needed now, now we need pray to the Messenger to send for aid from the god Sarksé if we are to have hope of fighting the Dark.

The chanting of demons and the dead echoes across the stone walls. They carried with them an abundance of war machines, ladders, and siege towers. The siege equipment dripped with blood and sewn skin clung in patches upon the materials. Rot infiltrated the air, causing some men to puke and others to waver. King Ilius then feels fear sink into his own heart.

All that is left behind is the dead to the carrion birds. The Darkness cut through the ranks like a knife through butter within the few days. These mortal men could stand no chance.

The first wave of the attack was brutal. Catapults launched dozens of heads, siege towers sewn with protective layers of skin to shield against arrows came by the hundreds and the dead and demons alike overwhelmed King Ilius’s forces. Ilius fought long and hard only to inevitably suffer defeat. Only he and Reith survived to escape the city on horseback, prepared by Reith hours before the attack, with barely any food or water.

The rest of the people, the women and children as well, were massacred in the streets and everything burned. Scorched earth is all that will remain of the giant city. Barrenia was the first to fall to the Darkness, and other cities will as well fall before the onslaught.

The sky above where Barrenia once stood stays a permanent blackness, a blanket of darkness across the Dunes of Death. Demons and creatures of other worlds mobilize by creating more war machines and gathering armies. The second Age of Destruction has begun.