The Epic

Prologue.

In the Great war, the kingdom of Meridia almost fell under the onslaught of the two great factions of Serinidad and Thurmet. The arrival of the hero, the golden warrior, slowed their cause, but did not stop them; the threat has returned. Meridia’s hope lies in the hands of a new hero…a young warrior who will follow his destiny and find out the truth of his sorted past.

There lays a land, far from this, ancient land renowned for its breathtaking landscapes. Forlethon was a vibrant utopia once, rich in hope and opportunity; a king who held office in the sister-kingdom ruled it. The majority of his subjects, to be a wise and just ruler, regarded the king. Those who said so were cowards and fools. Those few not loyal to him, or those who knew the truth, said different; they knew what really happened in the fight for the Key of the Avatar, and none of them will dare to forget it. The acts of heroism, courage, fellowship, deception, perversion, genocide, love, and sacrifice of those brave men and women were forever burned into the annals of history and their legacy changed the view that one can control their own destiny.

A wise warrior of legend once said, “When darkness falls, so does our hope.” Few remain from the Great War that can do anything to halt the coming darkness. Hero is a word of the past, long forgotten, left to die in the ashes of the burning cities that once shone with brilliance…but no more. The king seeks greater things and tires of hearing out peasants’ pleas. The government’s laws replaced virtue, and greed replaced justice. Corruption lies in the leaders of the Empire, and the rebellion was growing weak. They needed warriors; they needed people who would fight for a cause that appealed to more than just material gain for them. The rebellion needed heroes.

In the ages before ages, the time that lies in oblivion in our memory, a hero rose in Forlethon. His name was Hezrahn. His life had begun as a humble one, but his calling was true. He helped those who were weak and defeated the strongest of warriors; he soon became better than the rest, and the Empire found out about him. They wondered who this new hero was. What man would show understanding and forbearance to the meek, as if he was one of them?

As time passed, Hezrahn’s deeds became vivid in the minds of the common folk. He was in the children’s games, at the dinner table, in the hearts of all the oppressed. He slays monsters with his great golden sword, takes out bandit lords, tames dragons and defends the innocent! Alexander, an ambitious senator of the Empire, became entranced. He was infamous for his jealous nature, and secretly wanted to become ruler of Forlethon. Alexander thought, “If this hero can win over all of the country like he has, surely he could become king of Forlethon! This I cannot allow.”

Therefore, in an act of unspeakable malice, the senator contacted a friend he had in the king’s army, and in secret sent his best warriors to hunt down, kill Hezrahn…, and destroy his home, the village in the snow-topped hills. However, the king’s warriors did not realize how skilled the hero was, and Hezrahn managed to beat his assailants. However, even as he rushed home, in his heart he felt that he was already too late. On his knees before the ashes of his village, laid to waste by the king’s order, holding the limp form of his loved one, something changed in Hezrahn. A deep hatred rose within him, the likes of which none in the land had ever seen. Therefore, in a rage of unbridled fury, Hezrahn set out for justice. There were many battles, and many people were lost. Nevertheless, true to his vow, the hero slew the men responsible for his home destruction, and for all his pain. However, before he could do it, before he could kill the man who had messed up his life, he let Alexander go. Hezrahn saw the truth…that his justice was actually vengeance… and was ashamed of what he saw. Therefore, he fled.

Up in the high hills, on Mt. Valkyrie, Hezrahn stood and cried out to the sky. “Much has been given, much has been taken, and much has been done. Please forgive me.” Then the sky opened and forgiveness rained down upon the land, and upon Hezrahn. Forlethon became completely again, the darkness faded away, and Hezrahn disappeared into the hills, searching for a chance to start over…

One.

Echo awoke with a start. He had been asleep for hours, wandering the ethereal realms of dreams. Or in his case, nightmares.

He sat up and ran a hand wearily through his long hair. For a nineteen year old Ruvian, Echo was an oddity; instead of dark brown, he had inherited his father’s jet black hair, and by some odd quirk of nature his bangs were red. His eyes were an intense brown, and at times they were almost black. In fact, if the common passersby only casually glanced at him, Echo seemed almost normal.

He looked around the room he was in, trying to recall what had transpired over the last day and night. Then he looked to his left; a small girl of thirteen years of age was wrapped in the sheets of the bed he was in, softly sleeping. Trina. Echo slid out of bed as quietly as possible, not to disturb her. Another glace around the bed room showed him a sink across from the bed. A mirror with flowery decoration hung above it. A dresser stood to one side of his bed, and a table to the right. He went to the washroom and cleaned up, threw on a tunic and brown pants and went downstairs.

“Good morning, Echo!” The Ruvian looked down from the stairs at the woman that had addressed him, Kyanah. She looked a little older than Echo, and was very tall, her form pleasing to a man’s eye. “Morning,” he replied gruffly to Kyanah. Echo looked around; I have no memory of this place. “Where am I,” he asked cautiously. Kyanah looked at him strangely, and then smiled. “Don’t you remember? Trina invited you to stay here for the night; you’d been out and about and you looked tired and hungry.” Slowly Echo nodded his head, pretending he’d still been half asleep and hadn’t actually forgotten. Kyanah turned back to the counter with a sigh. He turned instinctively to the stairs as a still-sleepy Trina stumbled down the stairs. “Hi, Echo,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes. The Ruvian cracked a smile. “Hey.”

“Breakfast you two?” Kyanah bustled about the kitchen, fixing eggs and bacon and sausage with bread. Am I glad I decided to stay here last night, Echo thought as the smells wafted about the room. A tiny hand grabbed his; he looked down to see Trina staring up at him with her pretty brown eyes. “Thanks,” she said, shyly smiling. Echo smiled suddenly, though he really didn’t know why. “For what,” he asked. Trina replied with a giggle. “For letting me sleep by you last night.” Kyanah, though her back was turned, had begun smiling.

Though Echo was not really one to sleep beside another person, he’d made an exception due to Trina’s fear of the dark. He took Trina by the shoulders held her close and told her, “You need not fear the dark, Trina.” She began blushing, casting her eyes downward. “I know, it’s stupid,” she muttered. Echo shook his head, replying, “No it isn’t. Nothing about you is stupid, Trina…fear is fear, no matter who it is that feels it. Like all who face monsters, you merely need a guardian to protect you. And I always will.” Trina looked up smiling and held out her little finger. “Pinky promise,” she asked. Echo looped his finger around hers, sealing the pact. “Pinky swear,” he replied. “Always.”