Novels2Search
Legend of the Betrayed
Legend of the Betrayed - Prologue

Legend of the Betrayed - Prologue

Legend of the Betrayed - Prologue

The pale white of the snow, was stained with the crimson red of blood. It gushed from his wounds and congealed in the cold winter night. The pain of having a limb severed and torn was excruciating, but at the moment, there was barely a feeling.

As his life slowly drained out, his vision blurred and his mind wandered, showing him pieces of his past, and what led him here. He remembered the warmth of the sun caressing his cheeks during the summers of Ostara. The bitter-sweet taste of the pastries sold on the streets, and the friends whom he had shared joys and sorrows.

However, deep down, he knew that those were only mere memories. Fragments of an illusion, created by the mind of dying man. He mustered his strength to look at the beast with whom he shared that freezing night. Its eyes burned with deep hatred, and its jaws gnawed on his severed limb.

The man tried to laugh, but the sound never came, only the gushing sound of blood spilling through a slit throat broke the night's silence. A smile, filled his mind, fair, sincere and naive. A smile that would hold the world, and cleanse it from the shadow. However, even that, was tainted by the ugliness of reality.

His vision darkened and, with the last bit of light, showed him a sight that was burned within his very soul. The once amber jewels of hope, had become the source of sorrow and resentment. He remembered his youth, his shortcomings, and as his life met its end, a bitter taste filled his mouth.

[https://i.imgur.com/ypykdMP.png]

The sun lazily rose in the horizon and light once again bathed the earth and the people. A lone ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains of the inn, warming the face of the young man who lingered in the bedsheets. The warmth was comfortable and welcomed after a long night of drunken partying and celebration, enough that in any other day, would warrant another few hours of sleep. However, that day was rather special, and the young man sluggishly rose from the bed, still drowsy from the previous night.

Fighting against his desire to stay in the sheets, the young man walked toward a small sink in the corner of the room, water, a small splash of cold water to free him from any resisting lethargy. Raising his gaze to the small metallic mirror above the sink, two bright amber jewels greeted the man. These were the heirlooms left him by his late parents and his only connection to them, his eyes, uncommon in the continent of Mistgaer and his very own treasure.

“The day has arrived.” said the young man as he stared into the mirror. “Everything I've done until now. It all comes down to today.” his gaze turned down to the water in the sink before returning it to the mirror. “Today is the day Jonathan Arc will show the world…”. Jonathan stood there watching the mirror for a few moments, before he finally decided to get dressed.

The road to Drastin had been a long one, he had undergone countless ordeals to arrive in the capital of the Krudel empire. It was no mystery that his equipment had been worn out. The armor, made of boar leather he had bought many towns over, now looked more like a trail map, due to the sheer number of tears and rips it had. However, that didn't matter to him. Those were signs of battle, and that day, he would wear them proudly.

Jonathan finished tying the last bit of his armor and fixed his sword on his hips, a rather short and shabby looking blade, before he once more moved to the mirror. He tried to comb through his chestnut colored hair as he needed to be presentable enough.

“Zane and Ali are probably still sleeping…” pondered the young man as he finished getting ready. “Let's have a walk through the plaza. I might find something interesting. ”

The young adventurer looked at the room one last time before making way through the doors, and out of the Inn he had been staying for the past few days. As he stepped out of the Nightingale Inn, he was greeted by the hubbub of the city, a cacophony of voices and sounds. It had been a few days since he arrived, but it was still a marvelous image to the country boy from Ostara. Merchants and Peddlers shouted their discounts, people spoke and laughed, and children ran about the streets without a care in the world.

He smiled brightly as he walked down the street in such a peaceful place. “This place seems so removed from the rest of the country…” he gazed at the sky “It's hard to believe it has been twenty years since they came…”

[https://i.imgur.com/ypykdMP.png]

Since the dawn of mankind, the continent of Mistgaer had been plagued by the flames of war. The greed and jealousy of humanity were deep-rooted into the people and land, but no one thought that this thirst for power and wealth would be so costly.

Twenty years ago, the first black gates emerged from within the bowls of the earth, and from them, the horrors came. Demons, wicked creatures born from hate and anger, from the deepest parts of the burning Hell. They flocked the earth and with them, brought death and carnage, for no men could hope to compete with such beasts.

Their strength was unrivalled, and they wielded the essence of the world like it was their birthright. Humanity neared it annihilation, and hope seemed to dwindle. However, at the brink of destruction, the ray of hope shone brightly once more. The four heroes, chosen by the God of Sunlight, Lucaden, stood up against the monsters, wielding the sacred artifacts which allowed them to fight on equal grounds. Wielding their sacred gear the heroes fought back and rescued humanity from its doom, by forcefully shutting down the black gates.

Now, twenty years later, the demonic threat still loomed in the horizon, as the black gates still emerged. However, the heroes were no longer around, having given everything in their last battle, flesh, blood, and soul. Now, a new order arose to be the steadfast bulwark of mankind. The sacred order of the Golden Cross, where man and women, chose between the bravest of the continent would become wielders of the sacred artifacts, instruments fit to defend the realms against the invading fiends.

[https://i.imgur.com/ypykdMP.png]Jonathan's mind wandered as he walked down the streets, gazing through the shops and stalls. He came to Drastin from the far away Ostara, to join the ranks of the sacred order, and he wasn't the only one. Young and brash adventurers packed the city, looking for a chance to become a chosen hero or seeking vengeance against the beasts.

Those stories were far too common on Mistgaer, the orphaned sons and daughter of the slaughter would seek the order to avenge their lost ones, and Jonathan was no different. The man had witness as hordes of demons invaded his village, and slaughtered everyone in their path, his family included. He, however, was fortunate enough to be saved by a member of the order, and since that event, he decided to join their ranks.

The young adventurer had walked through a few hours until he decided it was enough sightseeing and quickly made his way back to the Nightingale Inn. He stood in front of a room and heavily knocked on the door, “Zane! Ali! Wake up, we need to get going, or we'll miss the selection.”

“We've already been up for hours. You're the one who decided to take a walk.” — spoke a large, burly man that pulled open the door. His hair darker than a raven's feather and a scruffy beard made the rough-looking man even more intimidating.

“Well, I thought you guys were sleeping, Ali. You all drank too much last night. Zane's also ready?” — spoke Jonathan with a bright smile on his lips.

As Jonathan stepped into the room, he was greeted by another young man, seated at the edge of one of the beds. The emerald-green eyed blonde man turned to Jonathan and spoke softly. “Master Arc, when have I ever been late?”.

These were Jonathan's companions and comrades whom he had been traveling ever since leaving Ostara. Alistair, or Ali, was a monster of a man, standing tall and strong, he used a two-handed sword to cleave hordes of enemies. There was no one Jonathan would rather have at his back. Zane, was a noblemen's child, who gave up his status to join the order, and due to his upbringing, excelled at the use of spells and incantations, the mastermind behind the battle plans of their group. “Well, let's get a move on then! I saw the plaza, and it's filled with people, most will probably be taking the test.” — said Jonathan with an excited and fierce gaze.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

As the mage let out a sigh, he spoke casually while opening a small leather-bound book. “Jonathan, you're too hasty. We need more information to face such a trial.” and Ali nodded his head in agreement. A hasty decision could put everything to lose.

They weren't wrong, and Jonathan had a hard time keeping the disappointment expression down. “Well, lucky for both of you, while you and Ali were in your drunken fervor, this young mage managed to gather enough knowledge about the trial to help us.” The expression on Jonathan's and Alistair's faces lightened up at the mage's words. However, they didn't say anything, they waited for Zane to continue, as they knew better than to interrupt him. The mage closed his book and turned his gaze to his companions. “I need both of you to understand that this trial will probably be one of the harshest ones we've faced so far. “ Said Zane in a firm tone.

“The reason is simple, the test is not on our hands.” — as the mage spoke, the two friends exchanged glances — “First, you must understand that most people in this city won't be able to participate in the trial. That is because the order only allow those adventurers of silver-rank and above to participate. We are fortunate enough to have achieved that rank before the trial, which already separates us from everyone else.”

The atmosphere in the room was heavy, as Alistair and Jonathan didn't even blink while Zane talked. “That being said, after the initial selection, the candidates will be led into the orders' courtyard. There, an ancient monolith stands. Where the contract between the initial heroes and Lord Lucaden was made.” — the mage intertwined his hands on his lap — “That monolith has the power to see through the hearts of men, and select the chosen to join the order.”

Jonathan's mind started to wonder, and once the mage finally finished his piece he spoke — “This monolith is what is going to choose us, so our dice has been cast.” — he forced a smile to his lips — “Don't be distraught guys, we're strong and brave. I'm sure even Lord Lucaden will recognize that!”

These three young man had come from the corners of the world to join the order. It was the culmination of their effort that brought them this far, and the thought of being denied membership was bitter, but there was no choice. They finished their preparations, paid their bills and finally left the Nightingale Inn for the last time as the silver-rank group of adventurers.

[https://i.imgur.com/ypykdMP.png]

The sun was just past its zenith, and a crowd formed itself in front of the gates of the Golden Cross. Adventurers of all places waited for the start of the trials, looking for a chance to join their ranks, and bask in their glory. Jonathan, Alistair, and Zane were no different. As the time went on, the crowd became even more restless. However, when the energies were at a peak, the golden gates started to open.

A fleet of knights moved out of the gate, and behind them, a single man dressed in golden plates and a white cape. His hair already graying, and in his face, scars of battle were evident. This man had an aura of dignity, and he was leading these knights.

“The will of Lord Lucaden shines bright on Drastin, today. Young and brave warriors, I welcome you to our home.” — the man's voice echoed through the air, shaking the adventurers to their very core. — “I am the captain of the eleventh battalion, Krieg Bronzefall! On this day, some of you will become my brothers and sisters in battle. However, we cannot accept you solely based on your will, you must also prove the strength of your arm” — whispering sounds started to emerge from the crowd — “Only those adventurers who achieved the silver-rank and above might undertake this trial! The rest of you, regress to your homes, and return once you've become stronger.”

A wave of discontent started to arise from the crowd, as most of the people gathered had not achieved said rank. However, the knights didn't let it continue, and quickly dispersed those who were not of rank silver and above, resulting in only ten people remaining, and of these, only one was a gold rank.

The captain ordered the candidates to follow him into the courtyard of the order, through the golden gates. Jonathan turned back to look at the gate closing behind him, and the thoughts of his objective burned even fiercer in his mind.

The group followed the captain toward a plaza in the center of the courtyard. There, stood a gigantic obelisk with runes in an ancient language carved on it. That was the symbol of the contract between mankind and the divine.

The captain then proceeded to explain the trial to the candidates. Each of them would step forward and place their hands on the monolith, and if they were to be chosen, the whole obelisk would glow with an incandescent light, otherwise, it would stay dull as a sign of their failure.

As the candidates started to step forward, one by one, the results seemed to be disheartening each time, from the seven applicants, only one managed to kindle the obelisk. Now, it was Alistair's turn. The bear of a man stepped forward, and for the first time in his life, shook with fear. He placed his hands on the obelisk, afraid of the outcome, however, the stone slowly started to glow, a beautiful blinding light.

The burly man couldn't believe his sight, when he finally came to himself, Zane stood beside him and ushered him to walk toward the knights. Now, he would become a part of them. The mage himself, didn't seem nervous at all, he casually placed his hand in the obelisk, and it kindled like a pyre in an dark night.

Jonathan looked at his companions with pride in his eyes, to him, they were more than just comrades, they were his sworn brothers with whom he had shared happiness and sorrow. He stepped forward, it was his turn to undertake the trial, a big breath of cold air filled his lungs, and he muttered under his breath “Lord Lucaden, give me strength”. The young man finally placed his hands on the obelisk, a few seconds went by, and no light shone from the stone.

“It's unfortunate, but we seem to have another failure. Get down from their boy, we'll lead you to the gates.” — the rough voice of Captain Krieg resounded in his ears.

Jonathan's mind was in disarray. His goal crumbling before his eyes. The thing that gave him strength to keep pushing through the worst of the world, disappearing in front of him. He couldn't hold his tears, and as they rolled down his face, he put his other hand on the obelisk, frustrated and despaired. At that moment, when he could barely hear anything, a hubbub started to grow from the knights. He finally opened his eyes and before him, he saw the stone, which was previously dull and lifeless, shine. However, it wasn't the incandescent light of his friends, it was a dark purple shine, an aura that seemed to hunger. He turned to look at the knights, and saw that all of them had pulled out their weapons, including Captain Krieg.

“You wicked beast! How did you penetrate our barriers?!” — shouted the old soldier.

Jonathan didn't know what was happening, confused, he turned to his friends. However, his gaze met expressions of disgust. “Zane? Ali? What are you guys doing?” — he spoke as he slowly walked back — “It's me, Jonathan. We've been traveling together for years. Tell them you know me!”

As the knights walked forward and Alistair averted his gaze, Jonathan saw himself frightened and without hope. It was then that the mage stepped forward. “It is the truth, we know Jonathan and we've been traveling together.” — the young adventurer's expression changed from fright to relief as his friend started to speak.

“However, Jonathan was a pure and good man. You're no more than a beast who has taken his face!” — with that sentence, Jonathan felt like his last bit of hope had been finally drained. He tried to speak to defend himself, but before he could, the cold metal of the captain's sword slashed across his chest. The crimson red of blood gushed from the laceration. The boy fell down, and words did not come out. The red tinted the soil's dirt, and he slowly felt the cold embrace his body. He felt his life drain from him, as the knights advanced. However, they were stopped by Zane once more.

“Captain, this beast has taken my comrade. Let me be the one to deal with the creature.” — spoke the mage. The captain had little reason to deny the request, and told his man to take the initiates and head to the keep.

Soon, Zane and the dying Jonathan were the only ones left in the courtyard, having sent Alistair with the knights to spare him the sight. The mage turned and walked toward the dying man. Jonathan couldn't speak as his voice seemed to be drowned by his blood. Zane approached and crouched beside Jonathan, in his face, no longer the disgusted expression of before, rather one of pity. “Settle down, Master Arc. There's no point in struggling anymore.” — the mage watched as Jonathan struggled in his attempt to speak.

“You see, this is what happens when disgusting trash like you try to avoid the natural order.” Jonathan watched as his friend spoke. “You were always a nuisance for me and Alistair. A simple commoner wanting to become a knight, who would believe that!”

“Now, however, it's time to end this farce. I never liked you, Jonathan Arc. This is just the natural order of things.” spoke Zane as he stood up once more, and saw the anger in Jonathan's eyes. The deep wounds of betrayal throbbing inside his mind.

“Now, do not resent me, Master Arc. If you want to be angry, be angry at the world and yourself, for being born amidst the trash.” — Zane's expression got progressively distorted from a pity to a nefarious smirk.

The mage turned around and started to walk away — “Farewell Master Arc, and be at ease. I'll take good care of Alistair.” — with a flick of his fingers, Jonathan's body, flesh, and blood ignited in a blaze of fire. The scorching pain dominated the young man's mind. He wanted to scream but could not, he wanted to run but could not. He wanted to live, but his vision darkened, and it's last light showed him the true ugliness of the world.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter