The desolate peaks— a mountain range bordering the Emanthil Empire, the Aisteach Republic and the kingdom of Grorsk —are known to be one of the most dangerous places to living beings. Spanning almost one hundred kilometers, the mountain range itself is mostly unexplored, what makes it extremely dangerous is the forest that surrounds it, the phantom forest, a place known to be avoided by men and gods alike.
Yet at the very top of the tallest peak among the desolate peaks, reaching past the clouds, stood a being of metal and gears, its body was made of brass, its eyes were two spinning cogs and where its right shoulder should have been, was a heart of brown and azure, hovering gently. A work of art.
His name was Kanthar.
Each one of his heart thumps made the surroundings sing, the thick fog on the top of the mountain seemed to ebb slowly, as if dancing to the rhythm, the grass on the ground thrummed with life and the clouds beneath the mountain peak seemed softer and a shade lighter than the baleful clouds that covered the lands below.
One would have imagined him a god as no mortal being should have such an effect on nature, and they would find they are not so far off, and yet, they couldn't have been more wrong.
“Father, what's wrong?” A language lost in the annals of time graced the world once more as Kanthar looked behind him, his gaze softening as he stared at his son. Unlike what one might expect, their voices and emotions were like that of a normal human.
Kanthar looked back at the horizon, at the setting sun far out of reach, smiley sinking into the Black sea and he let out a sigh. It was a tired sigh and his saddened voice followed after after,
“It has been a hundred years, Ahlstarr, a hundred years since our people have begun to die out; a hundred years since a race revered as gods stand and watch helplessly as they fail at the very thing they are best at.”
He looked down at the clouds below before turning around to face what looked like a younger version of him with a few distinct features. Ahlstarr stared back at his father, his fist clenching as he saw the burdened look Kanthar held within his gaze.
“For a hundred years, I've been watching, unable to do anything and now, it's down to just the two of us.” Kanthar chuckled self mockingly.
“Father…” Ahlstarr trailed off. He wanted to say something but he knew not what to say, so instead he remained silent, listening.
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“The very people who once worshiped us now ransack the homes of our kindreds, stealing out tools and sacred objects like it's of any use to them. Very soon, they will be here too, at the top of the Yecheza, risking their lives and braving the dangers to come scavenge whatever is left of us.”
“Father, you taught me that there is a reason for everything, that fate isn't as cruel as most make it out to be. You taught me never to give up, to always have hope!” Ahlstarr’s voice was laced with desperation and his heart ached as he watched his father, the man who had always been —like the very peak he stood upon— unmoving, begin to show signs of crumbling.
“And you will continue to follow my teachings, you will hold in to hope for the rest of us, you will persevere until your last breath and when you are done, you will come join us in the sacred chambers.” Kanthar smiled as he turned around, staring out into the horizon once more, his gaze narrowed, intent as he looked at the retreating sun like he was searching for something. After a moment, his clockwork eyes gleamed in comprehension, what he had seen unknown. He sighed as he added,
“As for me, I've given up hope, it's time for me to retire to the sacred chambers.”
“Father!” Ahlstarr cried out, taking a step forward.
“Don't worry, the ember isn't dying, I've passed it on to you after all.”
Kanthar turned around and stood before Ahlstarr, “like I said, fate isn't as cruel as it might seem. I don't know how long you might have to wait, and I'm sure it will be a cruel and lonely journey, but what I can promise you is, salvation will come soon.”
Kanthar raise his hand and gently caressed Ahlstarr's face, his love for his son was bountiful and it made the youngling weep, azure tears streaming down his eyes.
“Don't be saddened, Ahlstarr, for you might not have to wait for as long as you think.” Kanthar smiled sadly, but his clockwork eyes held hope within. He walked past Ahlstarr, heading for the cave that sat at the mountain top.
Ahlstarr watched his father head for the cave, he tried to speak up multiple times but he was at a loss for what to say. He had a million questions to ask, questions he had held back while telling himself he had all the time in the world to ask them. Now time seemed to have suddenly vanished.
“How will I know, father?! How will I know salvation when I see it?” Ahlstarr finally managed. He had asked what seemed the most important to him, because he had decided to hang on to the feeble hope that this salvation that is coming might be able to return the time fate had stolen from him and his father.
“Ahlstarr, how do you know when it's about to rain?” Kanthar paused, looking over his shoulder at the youngling.
Ahlstarr was at a loss for how to reply, rain had many signs before it came, many preludes that hinted at its coming. Ahlstarr didn't know which one to pick.
“Exactly.” Kanthar smiled as he walked deeper into the cave, his back vanishing from Ahlstarr’s sight.
Ahlstarr remained where he was for a long time, before turning around and heading to the edge of the mountain peak. He stood exactly where his father had and stared into the horizon and there he began his vigil.
His vigil for salvation.