Prologue

The Chorister Mountains existed.  Man looked upon them in intense awe and stated either to them or to the company they travelled with “up there, is where the gods reside”.

The Chorister Mountains existed.  A haven to no living creature, for no living creature ever dared to ascend to such heights.  Afraid.  Afraid to accept the journey to scale its unapproachable heights. Afraid to see what might be at its apex.

On the tallest peak of this range of mountains that exists, sat a single rough outcropping, that guarded a single nondescript cavity that seemed to have been placed on the scene of the harsh landscape as an afterthought.

Life existed on the outcropping in the form of a single woman.  She stood frozen and unwavering among the biting winds, as they swept viciously through the jutted landscape.  She appeared to be part of the very scenery she stood upon.  Like the rocks that surrounded her, she was silent in her immobility.  Only  her midnight black hair gave away her humanity, as it swept in careless outrage in the wind, declaring that she must move, or it would demand a life of its own.

Her name was Kara.  She was cold and she was tired,but she was anxious most of all.  She stood, waiting patiently for the message to come over the setting sun.  For most of the world, the sun had set and night had expectedly begun, but due to the incredible heights she stood upon, the lazy orb sat stubbornly on the horizon still, though the mountain’s silhouette miles behind rested upon the sheltered and fertile lands below.

Small pinpoints of light seemed to start winking into existence on a dark blue canopy, as a red sky was being dragged, slowly at first, toward the west.  The sun finally gave up to the mountains, as it grudgingly retired for the day.

The wind slowly started to die, and Kara’s large grey eyes squinted ever so slightly, adjusting her vision to make out a solitary green light emerging from the very realm to which the sun had retired.

She smiled approvingly to herself, and erased any tinge of doubt that no message wouldcome.  “Thank the mothers…” she whispered, and turned from the ledge.

The scattered dust and pebbles gave way obediently, as Kara’s sandal crushed them with an incredible weight in comparison to their insignificance. Only the crunching sound they made, as if in a scream, hinted at acknowledgment as she stared down at her closely pacing feet.

She wasn’t noticing the pebbles, however. Her head was down, with her long fingers holding it in place by the chin, as she intuitively rubbed it softly, lost deep in thought and expectation over the green light’s arrival.

If she heard the low scraping sound of something being dragged from the shallow depths of the cavern’s opening, Kara did not show the slightest hint of surprise when thesound gave birth to a voice.

“The Shining Ones will not approve of your actions,” the voice hissed in guarded mockery.

“Hello Abram”, she replied as shelooked down at the hobbled, deformed mound wrapped in an odor infested, brown robe.  The scraping sound came from a dead appendage that could best be described as a right foot.  She saw it once many ages ago, on a brighter occasion, before the wasting sickness had completely consumed Abram’s whole body.  Now, however, the foot, along with most of the rest of his form, was hidden inside the faded and ripped fabric.  Only the tip of his rotting nose and his pus covered skeletal hands holding an ebony cane lent any hint of a living creature underneath.

Abrams’s eyes walked up Kara’s giant figure, which was clothed in a simple dark blue robe that mixed with the sky, making her almost invisible against the night, until he met her face staring down at him.  Her eyes were cold and precise, yet he saw past her unfeeling gaze. She did not look upon him as the hideous from he now possessed, but  as if he was the same man he once was.

They stood looking at each other. Silence.  Silence until Abram broke his gaze in self-pity and continued to speak.

“Do you honestly think the coming war is inevitable?”

Kara’s face broke free of her cold demeanor, as a hint of a smile emerged from her face.  “Absolutely.”

“What makes you so sure?  Did you read this in some cail?”

“Only one cail.”

Abram stumbled slightly off his cane.  “Y-you don’t mean…”

Kara answered with a childish grin, and then effortlessly composed herself back into her cold and careless guise.

“You know you could have easily been banished to Ganarah if the gods saw you.” Abram said.

“That is a moot point to make now, since indeed I was not seen.”

Abram looked out across the sky, watching the same green light slowly approaching that Kara was watching.

“So will this war finally put an end to the Second Fold?”

“If it is orchestrated correctly.”

“Is it safe to assume that you will conduct this affair then?
“No, but I will awaken the ones who will.”

“So you will conduct the conductors then?”

Kara turned away from the oncoming green light and looked down at Abram.  He still stared at the horizon.  “Why are you here Abram?”

It was his turn to grin.  “The Night Ones have given me a new job.”

“And what is that?  Annoyance maker?”  she smirked.

“Watcher.”

“What are you supposed to do as a watcher?”

“Don’t insult your intelligence.” Abram replied.

“I’m not.  I want to hear you say it.”

“My job is to observe every event I find to be significant in the eyes of the Night Ones.”

“You spy for the Faceless then.”

“It’s much more than that, Kara.”

“Is it?”

Abram sighed.  “Your light is coming.”

Kara turned back toward the green light, as it leisurely came upon them.  It was no larger than a person’s head and moved purposefully. .  The ball of green light glided past Kara’s fac, and slowly crashed into the side of the mountain in a small explosion of light.

The emerald light quickly faded, leaving behind a glowing message from the Bright Ones scribed by the very light that brought it.  Scrawled on the mountain’s face in divine writing were simple and direct instructions:

First Axal of Aquaila:

Close the gate and hide the stones again, before the war begins.

As she read each word of light, they faded from the stone cliff and into memory.  After she read the message she turned to Abram who also saw the writing.  She didn’t see it, for his face was hidden in the robes, but she knew he was smiling.

“Give me three days, Abram.”

“One.”

“Two.” Kara countered.

“Done.  In two days then, the Night Ones will hear of your precious message from the Sacred Heights, and we will stop your quest.”

“You were never banished.”

“I know.”

“The Sheranals will take you back into the fold as soon as you wish it, brother.”

Abram turned away from her and hobbled back towards the cave’s entrance.  “After I leave through your clayn, I suggest setting up an ash ward.  Consider that unsolicited advice, sister.,” he said with the last word bringing back his mocking hiss.  The brown robes descended down the cavern, followed by the echoed sound of his dragging foot.

Kara finally pulled her gaze away from the cave and took a deep breath.  Two days.  It was the only head start she was afforded.  She could sleep later.  Her stomach growled.  She could eat later also.  These next two days were not hers to do with as she pleased.  They belonged to Fate, who demanded them from her now. She would comply.

She forcefully threw her hands up into the air, stretching them, trying to grasp the stars above.  As they fell down to her sides, she dissipated into five great ravens. They soared off into divergent directions, immediately disappearing into the sky’s inky blackness.