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Prologue

There exists between gods and mortals a single gap - narrow enough to peer across, yet so deep and vast that no man, Host or creature can ever bridge the divide. It is a deep and bottomless pit, only an endless void cursed by the immortal heavens above. Of course, there was no such divide in the dawn of Creation; men roamed with the gods as easily as with lovers and not a day passed where the Ancient Ones did not commune with the sons of men.

But as in every Creation story, there exists an error in their ways to drive apart and destroy, to desecrate that which once was holy. Such a thing occurred to the sons of men when Percival, Lord of the Dragons, grew weary of the sons of flesh and transient mortals, and he dared to question the King of the gods, inquiring of His creation.

In the very throne room of the King, Percival asked thusly, "Lord King of the gods, for what purpose has Your Majesty created these beings? Are not Helena's elves, nor Ragnar's beasts, nor even my own dragons - bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh - enough to complete the works of our hands? These mortals have no wings like ours, neither fangs nor claws; they are not strong like oxen, nor swift like eagles. They do not live as the elves walking in our midst daily, but they leave when Night has settled in, and Lyra's stars gleam in the darkness. They do not sing as our angels do, nor can their hands work as magnificent a thing as our other creatures.

Therefore, my King, hear our plea - let us destroy these, the creatures of flesh, and rebuild anew some other race befitting our glory."

The Lord of Dragons, that crafty Serpent, spoke cunning words to convince many among the Ancient Ones, and a chorus rose up as they agreed to the Dragon's speech. The Great God, however, would not utter a word in response. In His wisdom He remained silent, ever watchful of the Dragon's attitude as he basked in his pride at the gods' approval, until He came to His conclusion. Once the throne room of the Celestial Hosts had quietened, the Lord King spoke.

Thus He said, "By what cause do you strive against Me, oh Percival? Or by what reason do you persuade our council to raise our hand and smite that which I have created?

See the Earth, the beauty of our hands, the glory of our creatures; for though you create, you are still yet My creations; though you work the Great Force, it was I who wrought the Forces into being. I am He who writes into existence, He who brings forth all things. By Me all things are, and through Me, all things have their being.

Lyra's night I have not hindered, neither Helena's elves nor Ragnar's beasts, nor even your own flying creatures. When we sang the sky into existence I said nothing; when we brought the land up from the waters I spoke nothing. The dust of the ground yielded fruit, and the flesh of beasts covered bone, but I have hindered none. I have only one creation - the sons of men. Yet even this - the work of My hands - you seek to destroy.

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Answer Me this if you can, Lord of Dragons: what has My creation done, yea what harm have they done you, that you should strive against them?"

And as the Great God spoke, the Dragon was thrown into silence. The Celestial Hosts spoke nothing. The Heavens became quiet, left to ponder the motive of the Lord of Dragons.

The Lord King spoke once more in answer to His own question.

"Is it not because your dragons are second to the mortals, and after My creation come the works of your hands? Your arrogance knows no bounds, Percival; you have dared to challenge Me, and have been found lacking. There can be none apart from Me, nothing outside of Me, yet you would dare question that which cannot be otherwise.

See now, behold: I will smite you and your kin for your hubris. I shall rend you from the earth that none may call your name, save as a curse, and your kin shall be brought down by the Son of Man. You sought to kill him, yet he shall destroy you. Let this be the decree for the Heavens and for you Ancient Ones.

Go now, oh Dragon, you crafty Serpent, for I have torn the realm of the Ancients from the realm of the flesh. You are cast out of Heaven, you great Snake, along with your kin; go unto the edge of the worlds, where lies there a great divide such as the worlds have never seen. Go thus, and disturb us no longer. Trouble Creation no more."

After this, that great Dragon, the Lord of the Fliers, was sent asunder, him and all his unholy creatures, to inhabit the void between Ancients and Mortals. As he fell, he and his angels called upon the sons of men, that whoever should hear their voice would swear fealty to them and not to the Lord King. Percival broke his daughter Amate, flesh of his flesh, into shards and placed each piece into their hearts, so that many sons of men were cast asunder along with the great Serpent until the Great God could no longer bear to witness their destruction.

Thus the God sent down a prophecy through the Great Force, through the lineage of Helena's creatures, that there shall come two children, one of flesh and one of bone, to bring together that which was torn apart. They shall reunite the world of the Ancient Ones to the world of Men, and all shall return to their place at the end of time, when the Lord King shall judge all.

"And thus was the world created, that all things have a place, a time and a season; let no man, elf or god tear apart that which was brought together, for that is what caused the Great God to rend the worlds apart. Only do this, my child: seek justice, love mercy and walk humbly with your God."

As the mother reached the end of the book, she closed the tattered cover and turned to her son in the midst of the darkness, veiled in black. In the light of the candle, the child's face glowed softly, unmarred by Fate, as if shining with the light of the sun.

"Good night, my love. May Lyra watch over you." His mother kissed his cheek before the candle went out. Only the Moon shone gleaming light as the woman left the small bedroom.

It was unknown to all at the time, as the Great God had hidden it from their eyes, but that boy was no mere child.

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