Empty Echoes Prologue

Prologue

In a land that is no more, before the cycle that never should have been, the seven races all lived in peace. The three most powerful races provided the realm of Borjia with relative serenity. The Trilok and their skill with blades kept the unruly at bay. The Lastri also did as such with their ability to alter the world with magic. And finally the Lastrlyn who, through their stone Lastrycs, commanded the mighty eight Elements. Together, those three races allowed the others to prosper.

With the help of the three Lamina races they communicated with the Earth's plentiful creatures. The Kepla, who had fish-like fins and gills, ruled the high seas, commanded the water-animals, and healed those in need. The Eshor, on their horse-like legs, galloped across the planes. They communicated with not only those who walked the land but also those who inhabited the realm of spirits. The Legna sought out the secrets of the past and the future as they rode along the wind with their feathered wings, presiding over the sky and its children.

If any were discontented it was the Beowér, who in their barbaric ways craved the rush of battle and the steady violent flow of fresh blood.

But the Golden Age of peace was soon to come crashing to a sudden and unpredicted end.

The year 1,009 marked the beginning.

All the Lastrlyn youth of sufficient age were brought to select their Lastrycs, as tradition required. One by one they found theirs, and through which one they had chosen their powers were designated. Each child left the chamber, and moved on with their new lives. All until one small child was left, his powers unnamed.

The assigner tried a Ruby, but the boy was not of the Fire Element. On they went, from Ice to Earth, then Electricity and then Water. He tried Opal, but no, Light was not his Element either. They went to Weather, and finally Nature. But the reaction was the same to each. Rejected.

Finally at a loss for words, the assigner offered him the only remaining one. The boy was presented a small golden choker, which held a gleaming oval of Amethyst at its center.

The choice was made. Their fate was sealed. And the Cycle began.

He was taken to the Eight Guardians of the Elements, who each had mastered a specific Element, in hope that they could discover what powers the boy might possibly possess.

Perhaps Fire and Water, they thought, for red and blue make up purple.

He quickly learned not only fire and water, but also the other six Elements. From there he traveled to the Lastri, where he gradually learned the secrets to magic as well.

The years past by and soon each race had heard of "the Chosen one" who humbly helped those across all of Borjia.

1,107. The Chosen attended the years assigning, as he had every year before. But unlike those, this year provided him with his long awaited dream—a successor.

The second "Chosen one" was much more determined in his studies than his mentor was. He learned the Elements just as fast and the art of magic in half the time it took his elder. But that wasn't enough.

He went to the Guardians of the Ages, who lead the Lastri, and demanded that he be taught their elite forms of magic, but they refused.

Enraged, he returned to his mentor, where he asked him to teach them instead. The elder merely replied that he had never asked the Ages, he figured if they wanted him to know that they would have taught them to him before.

Furious and frustrated, he stomped away from his mentor and wandered away from the other Elders and their questions. He ran into the youngest Guardian apprentice, and challenged the boy to a duel. Still enraged, he vented all of his pent up emotions on the boy, killing him.

Both sets of Guardians quickly discovered his treacherous actions and banished him.

The following years went on peacefully, and the painful memories of "the Betrayer" faded from their minds. Until he returned.

He invaded with an army of Beowér. Together they overthrew the Guardians of the Elements, leaving the Lastrlyn capital in shambles and carrying his former mentor's head.

Combining his own Lastryc with that of his teacher's he increased his powers tenfold. But they alone were not enough.

With the combined might of the Lastrlyn, Trilok, all three Lamina, and most of the Lastri, his army of Beowér were pushed back, while he himself remained undefeated. Though he had retreated into Beowér territory, his menacing shadow still lay across their once peaceful lives.

The Lamina, along with the Trilok, were the first to dismiss the threat, for their shorter lifespans equated for shorter memories. The Lastrlyn were ever nervous, unsure of what to do if another were to appear. The current Lastri leaders, however, were some of the same individuals who fought the Betrayer the first time, and thus were weary of leaving this problem to be handled by the Lastrlyn on their own.

1,210. Worry as they did, it stopped nothing and their fears were realized when the newest Chosen arrived. Against the advice of the Lastri the Guardians of the Elements trained him, praying to the Ancestors that he would be able to defeat the ever creeping shadows in the south.

The Betrayer would have none of it, and after he failed to recruit the child he bludgeoned him to death, once again taking the Lastryc of the fallen.

1,312. Once more a single child was granted the Amethyst Lastryc. The Guardians again trained their new hero, desperately attempting to rid themselves of the growing threat before they passed on.

But unlike the previous Chosen, this one, of his own accord, sought out the Betrayer and made him a proposition.

The Chosen returned to the Guardians who were none the wiser, and they taught him everything they knew.

On his suggestion, all of the races prepared for war against the Betrayer and the Beowér. But when they arrived, their "Chosen one" switched sides. Together the two Betrayers drove them out, and gained control of more land than ever before in the process.

Time went on, and the Guardians passed all of their unfinished business on to their replacements. Slowly all moved on to the next generation. The newly made Guardians awaited the next Chosen, determined to train one who could defeat the Betrayers before they could destroy them all.

The Eldest Betrayer passed on all of his knowledge and his Lastrycs to his "prince", who calmly awaited his next opponent.

The Cycle repeated, on and on, each Betrayer growing more powerful and the Chosen losing hope.

In the year 5,010…

Moonlight glared through ancient iron bars, slicing an eerie silver pathway into the bottomless shadows that slithered through the filthy dungeon. As the sliver of moon sunk lower into the sky, its pale glow came to rest on the once lustrous mane of the young prisoner. Its hands were held high in the air, which easily could have been mistaken for cheering, but the iron clasps around the raw, bloody wrists shattered that naive idea. The light danced across the child's countless shackles, as if attempting to taunt the child with its freedom. The burns, gashes and bruises that covered the child's body would have been enough to turn the strongest soul to begging, pleading for mercy. Dull, empty violet eyes lazily opened, once more taking stock of their surroundings. Just as quickly as they appeared, they vanished behind sickly pale lids. A tired sigh escaped the child's mouth, as if it whished to express its distaste for the situation.

The roaring rattle of sliding iron bars alerted the child to the first intruder into the isolation of the endlessly empty pit of despair. The guard. His disgusting knobby fingers groped towards the prisoner, a vicious smile played across his features, the crazed stare raging through his one good eye, for the other was hidden behind a long lock of mangy hair that carried a faint yellowish tinge. His ears curved upwards resembling small horns. His arms were thick and hairy, and a long scar tore thorough his chin on his left side, disappearing behind a wall of greasy hair. It was hard to tell through the dark mist like haze the filled the cell, but he looked to be about six foot seven, and all and all was a very intimidating figure. The child tried in vane to struggle away, and frantically fought for freedom. But the long stay in the empty, dank cell had weakened the child past the brink, and though it tried with all its might, it could barely pull against the many shackles anchored high against the wall.

After a seemingly endless struggle, the prisoner was torn from the chamber, while it still thrashed feebly. The child screamed hopelessly as they traveled down the long hallway, the walls seemed to be closing in on them, but the man walked ever on, dragging the helpless child behind him.

Up a dark passageway, down a hidden flight of stairs, up another, much longer one, until the child thought it could walk no more. The more his captive refused, the more furious he became and soon enough he began to drag it, who simply whimpered out in pain and exhaustion. He quickly tired of this game and (while he mumbled of what his master would do if the minute hand hit the twelve mark before he made it to the chamber) the man yanked the sobbing child up off the ground and began rushing towards their destination at a breakneck pace. The constant protests weren't any help to him as he dashed across empty marble hallways and past the countless silent aged stone pillars.

His mindless trot came to a sudden halt in front of two massive doors made entirely of purple marble and aged heartless gray iron. The child stopped its pitiful attempts to gain freedom and stared, slack-jawed in horror, the full realization as to what was about to occur finally crashed full force into its consciousness.

N-no! This can't be happening! I need to get out of here! I can't let it end like this—

"Dain!" came the calmest voice any could ever hear. It immediately brought to mind thoughts of milk and honey, or the warm comforting touch of a soft blanket.

The child's fear began to wash away changing into confusion and aggravation as the man known as "Dain" swiftly dropped it to the floor.

"M-master Scæða! What is it...?" was the raspy answer the man supplied. He appeared nervous, and swiftly glared down towards the child with his good eye, which almost seemed to turn from light gray to pale red, daring his prisoner to try and ruin the impending meeting.

"Do you have our guest, Dain?" the voice almost seemed to sing as it glided over each word.

"Ye-yes! Of course, Master I have it right here." Dain's knobby hand reached down and yanked the prisoner up by the arm.

Primal fear once again found its way through the endless fog that seemed to cloud the child's mind. Attempting to yank away from the disturbingly large beast, the child realized that it no longer had control over its own body.

What's going on? Why can't I move? No! I have to break free! I-I can't leave E—

Hush young one, have peace, came the singsong voice that had previously come from behind the door, which were now creaking open. Everything will be just fine.

Wha—?

Sh, it interrupted again. Come in. Join in on the side of justice, of purity! Learn the way to truly live. Learn the truth. Come to me, sweet child.

"Well, Dain why don't you come in! Young one, come meet your new master…"