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Prologue

In the beginning there was only light, though she did not know it as light, for there was no darkness. She was happy, though she did not know it as happiness, for there was no sorrow. She did not know how or when she came to be, only that she was. 

Perhaps it happened after much time had passed, or perhaps it happened immediately, but she began to feel a new emotion as she continued on in the infinite brightness. A longing for change grew within her, a desire to experience something other than the light. With that wish, darkness came to be, but it was not enough. 

She formed the light into spheres and called them stars. Out of the darkness she molded the world and placed it near the brightest star, but it was still not enough. The world by itself was lonely, she thought, and she crafted two smaller moons to keep it company. She realized at that moment that she too was alone. 

Out of the tallest mountain she made another like herself, yet at the same time he was not at all like her. She pondered how to recognize this difference, and names were born. For the first time, she spoke, and in doing so breathed language into the world. She called herself Vernacia.

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Black rain pounded the earth in an unending torrent, threatening to blind the knight as he struggled for footing on the muddy ground. Mere instinct saved him from the skinless canine leaping towards him, his sword drawing a silver arc through the air as it flashed into the creature's side. Barbed tentacles shot out of its mouth as it fell, its immediate bisection seemingly of no concern. At the speed of thought the knight activated the magic in his weapon. Clicks and whirrs emanated from gears turning in the sword's pommel as tendrils of blue light rushed to meet the incoming threat. Upon contact, the tentacles retreated as swiftly as they had come, dragged back through time to the point just before the attack was made. The knight's heavy armored boot crushed the monster's head into the ground before it had a chance to register what had happened. 

A wave of fellow warriors rushed past him, offering him a moment's respite. He quickly inspected himself for any serious injury or damage to his armor he might have missed in the heat of battle. Thankfully the enchanted plate armor held firm for the time being. Others were not so lucky, the ground littered with charred and dismembered bodies evidence enough of that. Screams emanated from the group that had just entered the fray. He looked up to see one of the larger beasts crashing through the front line with ease. 

This one had the form of a giant arachnid with a humanoid head, though that peculiarity did not extend to affecting how many eyes it had. Spindly limbs, dozens of feet long, skewered men with every step as faceless creatures riding atop it hurled orbs of black fire down on the beleaguered fighters. Anger and sorrow flared simultaneously in his heart and the knight charged forward. He had hoped to preserve his strength for a later opponent, but the line was holding elsewhere and they could not afford a breach now. Little would be gained by holding his power back here. 

More streams of blue light filled the area, several racing along the ground while the majority shot straight at the massive creature. The knight sprinted forward without difficulty, the mud beneath his feet momentarily frozen in time and granting his boots firm purchase. Otherworldly flesh fared little better than the bloodied ground and the arachnid was also held fast by the sword's magic. However, this also meant it was impervious to any attacks while in suspense. The knight knew this but continued forward all the same; it would require precise control of his power to take the creature down swiftly. 

He leapt up towards the arachnid's head, halting particles in the air itself to create ascending platforms from which he could climb atop the beast. Having reached a vantage point just above its head, he released the time shackles and plunged his sword downwards. In an instant the creature emitted a silent pulse of red magic. Everything it touched turned to ash, including its unfortunate riders. Engraved golden plate began to melt and give way in the face of this raw power, but it was too late. Dwarf-forged and elf-enchanted metal pierced the thing's skull and it crashed to the ground, twitching as its body tried and failed to recognize its own demise. 

The knight tumbled off and hit the ground hard. His breastplate had melted away entirely and the first layers of his skin and muscle flayed away. Each breath brought a spasm of pain throughout his upper body. The wound was debilitating, but still within expectations; he had known he was likely to suffer serious injury prior to engaging his intended target. His sword, unscathed despite the ferocity of the last attack, began ticking once more. This time, however, the blue light washed over the knight, and in a perceived-instant he was back to his feet, wounds closed and armor mended, several dozen feet back from the huge corpse. Rewinding time on himself was a risky maneuver not just because he was unaware of the process while it was happening, but also because it drained a significant amount of magic power from the sword. It was unlikely he would be able to pull this off more than one more time. 

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He looked around, hoping to see at least a few survivors. It was not to be. All that remained of the reinforcements were piles of dark ash already being stamped into the ground by the boots of more hard-faced soldiers joining the fray. But the line had held, and so the initial plan was still in place. They needed to stand their ground until the Shepherds appeared. It was these beings of unfathomable power that acted as conduits of malevolent energy through which the lesser monsters could appear. And the knight had been tasked with slaying the most vile of them all. 

No Shepherd had yet been spotted, but the front line was struggling all the same. The knight committed himself once more to the chaos, relying on his own skill and simple spells to cleave a path of destruction through the endless horde. He cut through fat masses of translucent flesh, their gelatinous bodies registering little evidence they had been struck at all. Humanoid beings with spike-toothed mouths emerging all across their bodies leapt at him only to find themselves sheared in half or missing multiple limbs, easy prey for the weary soldiers following behind the knight. 

He had to be careful not to overextend; the integrity of the line was crucial. What the mortal forces lacked in strength and speed they made up for with discipline and tactics. It was this discipline that enabled him to move freely about the battlefield and lend his strength where needed until the time came. And then it came.

Purple lightning flashed down before him, leaving in its wake a gargantuan foot. Dozens of men were ground beneath it as more of the figure appeared from spinning circles of lightning. Black-scaled skin covered a humanoid form hundreds of feet tall, its face lost in the dark sky. In place of its stomach there was a gaping maw, and it wielded a massive hammer inscribed with unknowable runes. Elsewhere across the battlefield a mass of thorns and barbs rolled along the ground like some malformed sea creature, strange metal orbs gyrating within it. Great gusts of wind came from the flapping of a wide blue robe as it rained multicolored fire down from the sky. But the knight's target was nowhere to be seen.

Again, this was still within expectations. He watched as beams of golden light slammed into the giant, blessed stone launched from dwarven trebuchets far behind the front lines. Thick, bubbling blood poured from its wounds and the behemoth stubbled beneath the onslaught. Similar countermeasures were being taken against the other Shepherds as long-deliberated plans came to fruition. Yet time was of the essence now. They would not be able to stall the lesser Shepherds for long. 

The knight drew on his blade's power once more and climbed into the air to survey the battlefield. While not entirely in vain, his effort to obtain a visual of the situation was unnecessary when it finally appeared. A wave of silence washed over the combatants as the final Shepherd emerged from a swirling black portal. It stood about twenty feet high, small in comparison to the others but far surpassing them in aura. Taught, sinewy muscle stretched and flexed beneath shadowy skin. A halo of dark blue flame blazed above its eyeless face, upon which was fixed a rictus grin. Its long, skeletal hands ended in wicked claws, and slowly it raised one of these to point directly at the knight. A deep voice penetrated his mind and echoed inside his head. "You know why we are here. Your power cannot change the past. Come, sacrifice yourself upon your altar of lies."

A flurry of emotions raced through the knight's heart. The Shepherd was right, he did know the reason for its existence. And he would do anything to keep that from the world. He sent a quick prayer to the gods for strength and returned the challenge. "On my honor as a knight of the realms I will strike you down, udug, and end this time of suffering." The Shepherd only laughed in response.

Determination and fear energized his body in equal measure and the knight raced towards the Shepherd. All eyes not engaged in a life-or-death struggle turned to watch this final clash. The ticking of a clock could be heard over the pandemonium and bright blue light left a lingering trail as the knight flew across the sky. He knew the Shepherd would have prepared contingencies to deal with the sword's magic; he needed to act in a manner the creature would not expect. Gears clicked into place within the sword's pommel and the ticking ceased. Tendrils of light reached for the Shepherd's arms and legs as it stood motionless before him. The knight feigned an attack from behind and switched last second to charge straight at the creature, hoping to catch it off-guard as it dealt with the time magic. Yet the Shepherd prepared no spell, no swipe of its claws or mental attack. Without hesitation the knight withdrew the magic and drove his sword straight through the Shepherd's chest. He stood there for a moment, bewildered at the lack of resistance. The Shepherd's face slowly turned to look down at him, its grin seeming to widen even more despite its body beginning to disintegrate. 

"Victory can be so bittersweet." A singular claw flashed through the air and pierced the sword's pommel. The knight had no time to react before the blue explosion engulfed him and the world turned black.

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