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Fallen Royal
Prologue

Prologue

The world was on fire. All around him, a sea of flames devoured anything it touched. Baleful tongues greedily licked the walls of homes, devouring years of memories, as the death cries of their inhabitants pierced through the raging inferno’s roar. Some cried out in the hope of salvation, others screamed and wailed to the point that his ears began to hurt, others called out the names of loved ones they would never see again, they all had one thing in common though.

Silence would fall.

Death was nothing new to him, after all Asher had grown up in the army, had seen his father kill people by the thousands and ordered even more to their deaths. However this was different it was a primal slaughter, the victims having no hope of ever fighting back. The word massacre didn’t even do it justice. Everything that the people had ever loved, every dream, every hope snuffed out like a candle in a storm. It was complete and utter annihilation as chaos reigned.

He could imagine them reaching their hands skyward attempting to grab hold of something that only those on the brink of death could see, beseeching their Gods to show them mercy. Those closest to him, he saw, were reaching out not towards the heavens but towards the womanly figure that stood steadfast in the heat of this hellish blaze. Clad in immaculate white, the air around her crackling with silver flames, she possessed an ethereal beauty to her, something indescribable. Raven locks billowed behind her like a cape surrounding her noble form.

To them she must have seemed an angel, sent by their deity to heal them, a reward for their lives at this point. He could feel his lips curling at the thought. If they had honestly believed that god would show them mercy for the way they acted then they either must not have read their own scriptures or were deluded enough to believe themselves worthy of salvation. Humans were worthless, a mistake, of that he was sure, and the God that created them must've been thinking the same thing at this very moment. This angelic figure was no divine messenger though, for if one looked closely you could hear her cackling madly, as she spread her arms wide, moving as though she were dancing. Under her feet were not wooden boards but the fragile, and charred bones of those consumed by the flames she wrought. She turned agilely dodging those outstretched hands, before stepping in crushing them at the wrist, never losing sync with the song of carnage. The pounding of heavy metal on the cobblestone road, a staccato punctuating her every flourish, growing louder and louder, as her movement grew frenzied, as if she could sense the end was near.

Knights clad in silver half plate inscribed with sigils of protection, burst through the wall of flames, leveling their swords at her. Magic spiraled around their blades, as power was focused towards her. Chains thick as a man appeared, wrapping themselves so tightly that they threatened to crush her lungs. She fell to the floor, as the knights swung their blades downwards. Massive eyebolts burst into existence connecting themselves to the chains; they struck the ground anchoring themselves deep within the earth. 

She was not able to wiggle even a finger the way that she was bound, yet they still did not approach her. Raising their blades they called forth a shower of heavenly spears that transfixed her to the ground, and only after the final spear had fallen did they cautiously advance. They were steps away when they saw it, the pulsing silver aura threatening to overwhelm their combined powers. Spears fizzled out of existence as power rushed throughout her body instantaneously healing her wounds. 

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The knights, realizing their peril, charged forth burying their blades into her chest, and hacking her apart. The chains that had previously bound her no longer existed, as power was concentrated into destroying her. The swords that had pierced her chest she ripped out, with severed arms that had reattached themselves. Those blades that came to take her head she caught barehanded, melting them into slag. Her hands were her weapons, her nails like talons as she plunged them into the eye slits of one of the knights. She proceeded to lift him via his eye sockets before hurling him over her head and into the raging inferno. Then she began to laugh. A cackling sound that chilled you to the bone and from which nightmares were spawned.

She clawed through the knight’s armor each swipe deeply gouging the metal as if she were swinging a sword. She tore the head off one knight that could not escape her grasp quickly enough, another she kicked in the helm putting a massive depression into the metal and killing the man instantly. Those who were left turned and fled but she chased the last one down, her hand open like a spear that she thrust forth into his lower back. Catching him by the spine she plunged her other hand in and lifting her victim into the air tore him in half. Her dress, once as white as freshly fallen snow, was stained crimson, as she bathed in the blood of her victims.

"Mother," Asher croaked, reaching out towards her. Begging her to come back, refusing to believe in what his eyes saw. Then she turned to him, flinging away the two halves of the once noble knight, her hand raised high above her head. All around her the flames died out, the energy flying toward her outstretched palm. Not even embers remained before the fire burst back to life looking like a pillar of flames. She dropped her arm in a chopping motion and the pillar fell with it, like a massive sword it cleaved through the city. When she had it parallel to the ground she began to sweep her arm, the fiery blade burning away any hope of resistance. Just when he thought that the horror would never end it did, as the hell spawned blade fizzled away into oblivion.

"Mother," he pleaded desperately. His voice must've pierced the shell of what she had become for only an instant he saw the mother that had cared for him, nurtured him, and defended him beneath that facade of death. Whatever he saw there was fleeting though, as eyes colder than the northern lands where the barbarians dwelt pierced his very soul. Gesturing towards him, he felt his limbs become weightless as he was lifted off the ground. With a thrust of her hand he flew, crashing into anything and everything in his path. Bones shattered from the blows, the breath whooshing out of him with every impact, as he struggled to draw the next breath as his lungs were pierced by broken ribs. Finally he crashed against something that refused to budge, and slid down the wall like a bug on a pane of glass. In the far distance he could see her stalking towards him, a predator moving in for the kill. He was powerless to do anything, his body unable to move, limbs broken beyond all hope of repair, and he could feel his consciousness fading in and out of the darkness. His vision narrowed to pinholes until all he could see was her, just standing there looking as if she did not have a care in the world.

"Mother." He gasped, the desperation and fear was nearly palpable, as she licked her lips. As if satiated by a meal, a look of ecstasy emerged on her face. To him it looked like she was feeding on his despair.

She dropped the mask, and he could see his mother in her visage once again, as she kneeled in front of him. How he wished that he could forget that terrifying image. Everything that had happened seemed like a dream, something that could never have happened.

She reached out caressing his cheek, and the dream turned into a nightmarish reality. "Die." She said sweetly, almost innocently, as if she were telling someone to do a simple chore. Her hand closed in around his throat, squeezing harder and harder. Heat surged from her hand as he screamed in pain, his body consumed by the flames. The physical pain was indescribable, but what hurt most was the betrayal. Why? He could not answer that question as his vision began to fade. He could no longer feel any part of himself as the last image burned into his mind was his mother, stepping away from the immolating body of her son, as shadows embraced her causing her form to shimmer a moment before she was whisked away. Never would he forget the look of ecstasy and insanity that she wore as she disappeared. Sadness, grief, and betrayal filled the void left by the positive emotions that his mother had once nurtured, and a deep hatred and distrust consumed a once pure heart. His eyes closed, as the pain finally overtook him.

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