Mumbai, India, 1996

A group of uniformed school kids were laughing as they walked down the loud crowded streets, cars honking at each other in a symphony of irritation and desire to just be heard, while the smell of deep-fried street food goodness wafted through the air.

“Bharam Bhai, come let’s eat some Pani Puri?” One of the smaller school boys, looked like he was about 11, pulled at the backpack of the tallest of the boys.

“Amit if you keep eating, you’re gonna stop being Chota and gonna start being moata!” Bharam, a tall 13-year-old with scabs on his knees, smacking good naturedly at the small Amit’s tummy, while the other school boys laughed.

“Come Bharam Bhai, you eat far more than I do!” The small Amit moaned while the others laughed.

“That’s cause Bharam Bhai is a champion!” Another of the boysa broad kid with bright red pimples, jokes as he mimed bowling a cricket ball. “He who gets the wickets, gets to eat!”

“Then you’re gonna have to go on a diet Sunny!” A very skinny fourth boy announces, before everyone in the group started laughing. As Bharam laughed, he looked to the street.

A young light-haired girl was walking across the street, holding one of the new Nokia phones to her ear, carefully avoiding the cars whistling past. Suddenly she stopped walking in the middle of the street.

“Hey Bharam Bhai,” Amit questioned. “What you looking at?”

“Bharam Bhai likes that girl!” Sunny shouted teasingly.

“I don’t think she can move.” Bharam says quickly. The girl’s body had frozen in mid-strike, but her eyes were darting around desperately. Motorcycles and cars swerved out of the way of the girl, honking as they did.

Suddenly, as if out from nowhere, a large truck started hurtling down the street at high speed, not honking in the slightest. The girl was in the path of the truck and still didn’t move.

“Bharam-bhai, what are you doing?” Amit shouted, but it was too late, the tall boy was running into the street.

As Bharam ran towards the girl, her clear eyes met his, looking pleadingly at him. Bharam knew he wasn’t going to reach her before the truck.

In a smooth motion, he took off his backpack and with as much strength as his thirteen-year-old body could muster, threw it at the girl. The backpack thumped solidly in the girl’s chest, sending her tumbling backwards.

Bharam felt relief as he saw the girl’s body move, getting out the way as she grabbed the backpack. Then he felt hard pressure to the side of his body, as his body crushed in slow motion.

“Bharam Bhai!” A voice shouted.

Then Bharam felt nothing.

***

Motorinon Settlement, Authorium, Seventh Vit of the Reign of Shadow Lord Sarlos

*"I cannot comprehend how you got the wrong one!”* A voice derided in an unknown language, causing Bharam to slowly stir.

*“The target was pushed out of the way.”* Another voice responded. *“It was that one or nothing.”*

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 Who are those people? What are they saying? Bharam’s eyelids were heavy, as he tried to open them it felt like they had been sealed shut by eye crust. What is this eye gunk? He tried to move his arms, but they felt numb, like he had sat on them long enough to fall asleep. In fact, his whole body felt that way.

*“What you got WAS nothing!”* The first voice shouted back, startling Bharam. *“This one has no potential! None!”*

Bharam pushed his head forward, but it felt like he was moving through toffee. He found a hard surface that felt hard like stone. He moved his head back and to the sides, but found everywhere was a solid surface. He was trapped.

“Help-” He began to shout, when suddenly his mouth filled with some strange liquid. It felt like he was choking in a pool of syrup.

*“It does not matter.”* The second voice remarked in the strange language. *“The human will not survive the cradle. We can try again afterwards.”*

Please help me. Terrified and unsure what was happening, Bharam started banging his head against the stone-like wall in front of him. The pain made his eyes water, and he wanted to cry as he choked on the strange syrup.

Pa, Ma, Amit, anyone, please! He struck with all his might, his limbs still feeling numb, while his head moaned in agony. I don’t want to die.

After what felt like a thousand hits, he heard a loud crack. He thought it was his skull. He tried to hit again, and he felt the wall start to give way, as something sharp scratched his eye. The cut incentivized him, that he was doing something in this dark prison.

With one final headbutt, the wall gave way, and suddenly he felt the liquid choking and surrounding him pull like a geyser through the opening he made. As his body fell on the ground, he started coughing up the strange liquid, wracking his lungs until he could finally breathe again.

*“My word. I did not expect a chicken with no beak to free itself.”* One of the voices muttered, now easier to hear. Bharam was starting to have feeling in his limbs, so rubbed his eyes with his hand, trying to see what was going on. He felt the seal on his eyes crack and fall away like Sandman dust, as he finally blinked.

The first thing he saw was the black cobbled stone floor, which was covered in some strange yellow goo. He noticed he himself was covered in the same goo, which meant it was probably the syrup thing that he’d been swimming in and choking on. He also saw beneath and around the goo, there was symbols drawn on the ground with what looked like glow in the dark graffiti paint, pinks and greens dotted around.

As he stumbled on all fours, he saw the symbols went around in a circle. He looked behind him and saw what he had probably just broke free of. It looked like a solid gold egg, about 7 feet tall, but with a large hole down the front, leaking the strange goo on the floor.

“How-ugh!” Bharam tried to speak but just wracked up more goo.

“You are reborn.” The voice stated, now speaking in English but with a hollow echoey voice, like it was talking from the far side of a cave.  Bharam turned to look at the speaker and immediately tried to scurry back in fear.

The being that spoke had two spindly legs, like a spider’s, while it’s frame was covered in smooth leaves shaped like armor, accentuated with ivy that curled around it’s arms like barbed wire, while its hands wore soft purple 3-finger opera gloves. The being had long platinum white hair that coiled around it’s shoulders, twirling on a breeze that Bharam did not feel. The creature’s face was hid by a sharp triangular mask carved of ivory, resembling much like of mantis, while dark gold light pulsed like a heartbeat through small slits where eyes should be.

“Wha-what are you?” Bharam said as he scurried back towards the egg, his soft school shoes squelching against the goo.

“We are the Elves of Authorium.” The second voice approached, revealing itself to be a similar creature, but whose mask was carved with two large faux canines, like a sabretooth tiger.

“The Last Elves of Authorium.” The mantis elf corrected, folding it’s spindly arms which clicked as it moved like someone cracking their neck. The other one’s hidden light pulsed red for a moment before returning to a subdued dark gold and continuing.

“You have died.” The sabretooth elf pointed at the shattered egg structure. “You have been reborn in the cradle.”

“I want to go home!” Bharam shouted, when suddenly the two masks lunged forward to him, their sharp masks cut through the air between them like a blade. Their masks were impassive, but their eyes slowly glowed brighter.

“You will slay the Shadow Lord.” The Mantis stated.

“Or you will be slain.” The sabretooth finished.

Bharam quivered under their eyes, as blood from his head wound slowly creeped down his eyes.