Prologue

Part I

“I was the strongest…

My roar could be heard in every part of the world. My power could make everything cower in fear. My bloodlust alone could kill hundreds. A swing of my hand could flatten mountains. A swing of my sword could tear apart oceans. All this and I still think I’m underestimating myself…

No being alive could match up to me, not the demons, not the dragons… not even the gods. No one dared to challenge me…

I had everything… power, money… and the lives of countless in my hands. I even had many goals at one time, but soon there became nothing I couldn’t accomplish…

It was too easy, everything. People would do anything to get in my good side. Scholars would give up their knowledge, fighters would present their techniques and skills, kings would give even their own kingdoms. No one would fight with me anymore… and I considered myself a fighting maniac because I liked fighting a lot…

And so, at some point, without me noticing, everything had lost meaning. I didn’t have anything to consider precious enough to watch over, something to give me joy. I realized too late, that the world that stood under my feet had become meaningless to me.

I wanted something... anything to make me feel alive again.

The gods heard my plea for help and sent the apocalypse… No, actually they wanted to kill me, even if it meant destroying the whole world to do that. They wanted to kill me who could destroy them, so they joined hands.

On that fateful day rained destruction. The world screamed in pain and agony. Pleas, cries, deaths, darkness… That was one of the reasons I liked the apocalypse. It was so full of life. No, really, I mean it. In moments like this someone could truly see the essence of life… though it was perishing.

I bet I could have lived if I tried to and put some power into it, but I didn’t. I let everything follow its own flow and never lifted a finger. I welcomed death with open arms and while waiting for it I actually started to imagine and fantasize about my reincarnation.

I thought about the family I would have. This time I would make sure to protect and cherish them. I didn’t want to be left alone and feel empty inside like in this life. I started to wonder about the other world (the gods would definitely create another) I would be born into. How strong I would grow in this next life, what would I become, how would I live. All sorts of things crossed my mind… And then the end came.

…But this is a story of thousands of years ago if not more…

…Tch, I’m so going to kill those freaking old men (the gods).”

Part II

Blood, red blood, the crimson red liquid covered everything, every part of the land, every wall, every tile, all of the bodies. Bodies, dead bodies, only corpses remained of the once living, and most not even whole. Body parts, somewhere a leg, somewhere a head, somewhere a heart, all covered in red with swords and arrows piercing everything, sometimes a back, sometimes a hand, sometimes an eye.

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Death… If it had a smell it smelled like this, if it had a form it looked like this. Only death could be felt, only its shadow of destruction could be seen, like a sign of an end.

The dead had hopes for a new beginning, but for the one left behind the figure of the death had etched itself into that one’s eyes and later into his very mind and soul. However, it wasn’t his end, only the end of the ‘world’ he had known.

The child stood alone amongst the piles of corpses, at some point one would think he was dead, but he most certainly wasn’t. Eyes empty and lifeless, face pale if not paper white.

The silence of the starless night was suddenly pierced by a cry of pain.*tear* Tears wet the small face. Though already bloodied the crystal clear tears were clearly visible. The child did not try to hide them, nor did he try to wipe them. It hurt. It hurt too much. If only it had been pain of the flesh, it would not hurt so. He cried, screamed, shouted his lungs out but the pain never seemed to subside so he began to hit, break, shoot anything that was near, sometimes a fist, sometimes a kick and even a bite…

The child couldn’t stand it anymore. He wanted to run from it. He just wanted it to stop. And so, though wobbly, he began walking in whatever direction. Then the steps became faster and faster. Although still unsteady he began running at full speed, away from death, away from the end, away from the pain, because he thought if he continued standing there he would lose oneself.

Nothing entered his eyes. He didn’t see his surroundings, nor where he was going. He just run blindly and somewhat instinctively, far away… farther away. At some point while running he lost consciousness and just like that fell in deep sleep.

The dead of the night was nowhere near its end. It still covered the world and the cloudy starless sky was as dark as it could get, but slowly the wind was doing its job. The clouds dissipated slowly revealing two beautiful moons… or there should have been two, but the Ruby moon had completely ‘‘eaten’’ the Diamond and on this night when the gears of fate showed their fangs, only the eerie red light lingered.

On that night even the animals and beasts cowered and no one dared to leave safety even for a while.

… It would be called the Bloodstained Night, the night the sky was painted red. Many died that day. People would say no one that was out that night survived and only the bloody red ‘‘lived’’ to tell the story…