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Prologue

  The Ashlands

  An undisturbed endless plain covered with the decrepit ashes of trees, animals, and buildings that once stood peacefully amongst each other. A silent wasteland where the only thing one would hear is the steady beating of their heart. Presently this is the land that surrounds the Dome, A massive contemporary city encapsulated by a mass of pure magic. But, just as all things are, it wasn’t always like this; it was because of them that this country became this way. They were the ones that made this once prosperous land like this.

  The time was 10:47 am, a fairly late start for Goose. He stretched his slender legs fitting on his shabby leather coat and black trousers, the latter of which was loosely held together by lackadaisical needlework. Goose was a reserved man, a man whose dreams stretched as far as the street corner of his wooden shack. There was no meaning to whatever he did and he let his life be dragged on by whatever work that would present itself.

  That day he was sent out of the apothecary carrying a small crate of potions, it was a special delivery to a ‘Mr.Anderson’. However, he didn’t head west where the old man would patiently wait for him; he set out north where the illegal vendors would often hide. He planned to pawn off half of the potions, willfully ignoring the fact that Mr.Anderson needed the medicine.

  Goose hung his head low, avoiding the gaze of people who would aimlessly sake trouble. He tightly gripped the box, clamping down to the point where the tips of his fingers turned a sunken purple. What he held in his hands was a month's worth of food, much more if he rationed properly. However, this would only be the case if he got the package to a vendor.

  Goose was told by an acquaintance of where the vendors hid and was given an apothegmatic direction of where to go, he twisted his way through alleyways occasionally taking a minute's break so as to not draw any unwanted attention. Breaking out into the main street, Goose found himself in the bustling central district of the city. At a glance, Goose became uncomfortable in his unfamiliar surroundings. It was a part of the city he rarely found himself, particularly for the reason that he was too poor to afford anything here. This central part of the city was considered to be the most entrancing and although Goose was extremely poor it was a shame work failed to allow him to frequent this place.

Suddenly, however, Goose was in paralysis of wonderment and excitement, as he came to realize the extent of where he was. He remembered he had come here once before, it was when he was a child, a time that was a fading past. He expected there to be a change in his past and he was right, nearly everything about the posh marketplace had changed slightly. It was not enough to make him lose his felicitous feeling of nostalgia, but it was enough to estrange him from his surroundings.

  The marketplace was heavily decorated with rustic pottery and crafted metal ornaments. Modestly high wooden stores sat upon beds of slabbed stone. These stores were elevated from the main street forcing customers to walk up a small flight of crooked stairs to reach the pleasant jingle of the doorway. Along these stores would be gaily tents sitting just shy of the storefronts, selling whatever you couldn’t find in the larger stores.

Goose took this opportunity to wander about, deciding to slowly take in the nearby events that dizzily encircled him. He watches modishly dressed men in rigid suits and fair women in bright summer dresses elegantly stroll down the streets. Goose could see the couples cheerfully conversing with vendors or whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears as they brought out each other’s brightly colored laughter.

  It must have been his imagination, but Goose could swear he opened his eyes to a more vivid marketplace. The decorative banners hanging down from the wooden storefront, the neatly spaced pots with darling, tall flowers, and the untroubled inhabitants brought intrinsic happiness to the marketplace. Goose’s face, that was usually defaulted to a deep scowl, lightened up and he could feel himself walking with a lighter step. Unfortunately this feeling was not one to remain long.

At a moment’s notice the skies buckled with dark banks of ash clouds, the air was thick and the people in the city hacked and coughed. Their beautiful city was ablaze with odd blue flames; citizens scurried around to put out the fires. Others panicked, scared of the flames that erupted all around the city. Goose stood still, his mind was unable to process what was going on before him. He couldn’t understand what was going on or why it was even going on, but when he looked up to the sky he could see a woman standing high in the air. She wore a fiery red dress. It led his eyes to wildly travel across it as he tried to search for some sort of purpose to the designs that covered the dress. There was no logical reason, it was only for the supercilious social purpose to impress it’s beholders. Yet for a woman who wore such an elaborate dress, she failed to carry a single desire on her face. Her face wore a cold unwavering expression that couldn’t be described as either a smile or frown. To Goose, she looked human, but that raised the peculiar question of how she was floating.

A blaring and booming explosion shook the ground, offsetting parts of the slabbed stones. The bases of the stores cracked causing a building beside Goose to collapse into a large pile of rubble. It left a woman trapped under a heavy beam and led her to scream in pain. But her cries of suffering quickly puttered out, drowned out by the oversaturated cries of others. Everyone was in a panicked, wild confusion with explosions around them growing louder and louder. They were being attacked by something. Perhaps it was the woman who stood far above their heads? Yet she remained idle in animation, unchanged in emotion as she blankly stared down at the bodies that fell to the ground.

Goose continued to watch as mothers stumbled to find their children in the chaos of scattering people. The sounds of these people molded together into a loud cacophony that shrouded the city, destroying the joyous sounds previously present

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  At last Goose snapped out of his frozen state of bewilderment and fear, quickly darting his eyes around. His gaze desperately tried to find a place to hide. However, instead of finding a suitable place to take shelter he laid his eyes on a child fruitlessly trying to crawl away from the madness of reality. Goose legs began to unconsciously lead him towards the boy, he scooped the injured boy off the ground and just ran. He had no idea of where to go, but he just ran. He thought he heard the boy say ‘thank you’ between his sobs of pain, but he wasn’t too sure. He was mostly focusing on the idea of not dying. Goose sprinted down the streets making sure to run near places where explosions had noticeably hit. ‘Lightning never strikes the same place twice’ he remembered. Of course this was no lightning, but it still gave him a false sense of security when he walked into these half obliterated areas. Goose’s limbs began to feel weak, he was not only carrying the boy, but he had also failed to eat anything for the past three days. It was for that reason why he decided to pawn off the potions, it was for that reason why he was in the central district and it was for that reason why he was in the middle of this all right now. What a cruel turn of fate destiny had in store for him.

  That's when he spotted a small crevice blown into the stone base propping up a building. Goose quickly crawled into the crevice, it was barely big enough to fit his thin frame and the small child he held in his arms.

  Goose ducked his head, tightly shut his eyes, and using his hands he closed the ears of the boy. Other than this there was nothing left for him to do than pray.

  It was 11:00 am when the attack started.

  The seconds passed as if they were minutes, the attack felt to last an eternity. However, in reality, it only lasted a single hour. It was when the clock struck noon to mark the hour where the bombardment finally stopped. The sun perfectly perched itself in the sky reaching its highest point only to be eclipsed by the ashes and smog below it. The few people that remained, including Goose, came out from where they hid. He and the others looked at the sky in joint fear. There no longer visibly existed a sun, there was only the woman holding a luminesce orb and wearing a smile. A deformed and horrific smile which widely stretched across the ends of her face. A sudden flash of brightness blinded all of them. The light disintegrated their bodies before they could even recognize the sensation of every molecule in their body being burned to ash. There were no cries that solem noon, no screams for help, no cheers of victory, just silence.

The woman in the red dress stopped smiling. There was no suffering left to enjoy herself with so she returned to her normal blank look. She slowly hovered down to the ground, elegantly landing on her feet. Her skin sizzled as the hot ashes burned the soles of her feet, although strangely enough she had no visible reaction to the pain. She just pursued to bend down and run her hands through the ashy remains of the large city that was below her just mere seconds ago.

  On the other side of the country, a group of hooded men stood at the edge of a small town. They looked at the ash wasteland that surrounded the entire town. They each wore black magicians robes adorned with a painted crimson red crest, one of the men removed his hood revealing his long silver hair and pointed ears. This man kneeled to feel the ashes of what used to be a vibrant field of flowers and grass.

  “How could this have happened?” The man’s voice trembled as he spoke. One of the men behind him rested his hand on his shoulder and although neither spoke, the pain for the loss they shared was felt through their physical contact.

  These men were a group of soldiers on a mission, they had stopped in the small town to rest and in doing so they had protected it, but that was all they could do.

“Falgar… what do we do now?” One of the soldiers asked the silver-haired man.

Falgar stood up from his knees and turned to face the five soldiers he had with him. He ran his hand through his hair in ample frustration, he was unsure of what to say. The entirety of the area around them was ash and he could only assume the rest of the country was no different. He also came to the grim realization that he would have arrived at the same fate if not for his quick reactions, casting a barrier spell to cover the town in a barrier.

  Falar exhaled fumes filled with the many emotions he felt. He took a deep breath, taking a moment to compose himself before deciding to order his men.

“We...we should take care of the villagers here, but some of us should go see if we can find any other cities around here. I'll go with Lincoln, Howard, and Church to search. Illiest, Gray, stay here and settle down with the villagers. I'm sure they are in a panic.”

  Falgar's voice wavered slightly, but as he spoke he pushed his confidence forward. He wished to appear strong in front of his men, so they could feel at ease. Especially now when they were held in prison by their own emotions. They were frozen in place by the pain and worry they each held for their families. It was Falgar’s job to push his men further with his words and not dwell too long on emotions. The six split off, abandoning the robes of the country that had vanished right before their eyes. The five soldiers all had white hair, though shared different colored eyes. Mixed feelings could be displayed on their faces, but they all followed the command of their leader mostly because they could think of nothing else to do.

It took months to search the country and every passing day that small bit of hope he held desperately in his heart began to fade. In his years spent searching, no large cities were left standing. Only small demi-human villages remained, protected by their magic. So Falgar with his five soldiers began rebuilding as the new leaders of Highdal. Creating what is now known as the Dome, the great city and new capital of Heighdal.

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