"Creation of the Artifact, Brystworl, blade of the gusts.
In realm unlike our known a dragon-like being known as a dragonorl rules the world as its Guardian. His name is Meaphael and he loves the realm he protects. He wanders space and visits the planet called Lak, meaning creation.
Meaphael landed on Lak, near the tallest mountain. His sheer size towered the mountain, sadly it’s quite inconvenient to be in such a towering size. He focused on the energy around him. It illuminated in a soft yellow glow. Meaphael shrunk about the size of a tree, he still towered the six different humanoid species that resided here. A creature with wings like light flew to Meaphael, it was the high-born called Mezol, meaning kindred. Meaphael saw Mezol as his own son.
In a city, which resides on Lak, a different dragonorl, called Malicine, spoke to the people, he encouraged their workmanship and goals. He even helped them with their challenges. Malicine continued this for generations, till most of the population forgot about Meaphael. His curse is prepared.
Mezol had not forgotten his guardian father, Meaphael and wondered how the population forgot. It didn’t seem right. The peoples of Lak pushed Meaphael away and never spoke his name again. Mezol was a high-born and was graced with longevity. It was the festival of the crimson moon. It was the one hundredth and fifth festival Mezol had seen.
Meaphael sits on a mountain top, overlooking the high-born city. He longs to wander in and see his son, Mezol. Malicine glides above and lands next to his dragonorl brother. He comforts him saying, “Don’t worry my brother, there will be a day that these people will know your name. You only need to proclaim with power!”
Meaphael mostly ignores his brother and leaps off flying into the clouds. He is going to make the people remember their guardian, their protector, but he will be kind and gentle. Meaphael believes that there is no reason for anger or violence.
Meaphael lies dormant in a large cave. He watches the entrance as Mezol walks in, greeting his friend and honorary father. It had been three months since the festival of the crimson moon. He had dawned his ceremonial outfit and traveled to his honorary father, Meaphael. This day he will spend with his father. Meaphael smiles at the sight of Mezol. It’s been a while since he’s seen his son. Mezol. Most of time he’s spent was with his brother, Malicine. Malicine encourage him to make the denizens of Lak not forget him. He was the guardian of this worla, or realm, and he should be respected as such.
Meaphael leans down. Mezol readies his wings and uses them to get on top of Meaphael, there is no chance for Mezol to catch up to Meaphael, he’s simply to fast for Mezol.
The two take off and fly southward, towards the southern plains. The clouds pass by at an incredible rate as they pass by a body of water. It was hard to tell what body of water they passed, because the speed they went cause Mezol’s vision to blur.
Meaphael shortly landed and Mezol hopped off. They explored the southern cities and took in the beautiful scenery. The cities were made of precious stones and metals. unknown arts were passed down to the roylans, one of the six humanoid species, in these cities, as they worked on their own art entirely. The rare gem known as Hein Cen, or High Star, was jeweled in the crown of the roylan king, Enjarious.
Enjarious, a name which has no known meaning in the common tongue, went out of the city to visit Meaphael and Mezol, they became friends in the golden age of Stelnthav, meaning sword world, it was a great war during their time. The golden age referred to the countless and unique artifacts, a unique item of immense power. There were many variables, some were armor or weapons, or something else entirely.
This was the beginning of the last war. It would end the worla, completely destroying it and there is only one being in this realm capable, Meaphael. It was the war against Meaphael.
Meaphael stood tall compared to his roylan friend. He bent his head down to the roylan king. Enjarious smiled, “It’s not often to see a Guardian among us…Is something wrong friend? The last time I saw you I was a young lad.”
Meaphael smiled softly, “No, I’m afraid time makes all things void. My own presence has nulled over time. The reason I came here is to ask for the greatest metal you have… I confirmed the krolo’s treachery. He plans to destroy the known universe as it is. He claims that it is the greatest act and it will prove him to be the most powerful being. He claims that the First cannot even accomplish such a feat. This is why he is having the people forget their role in the universe. Imploctis Vranear must be stopped.”
Mezol looked at the dragonorl. His light-like wings fluctuated in tension. A war against the krolo was like warring against a god. It wasn’t thought of. He spoke to Meaphael, using his natural abilities of megas. Their minds connected, no words were spoken, merely feelings. The anguish of the possibility of losing his guardian father was breaking his heart. Meaphael responded by lowering his head, as to ask a being that normally would never have part in such a decision. Mezol feels tears stream down his face as he gives a stiff nod. His muscles were tense from his fear and barely moved.
Enjarious nodded, accepting Meaphael’s request. He ordered his people to make the preparations of gathering the metal and purifying it. He wandered close to Meaphael and asked, “What is your intention for this metal?”
Meaphael took a clothed object from his back. Mezol immediately recognized it and fell down. It was one of the Artifacts, one of the twelve artifacts made by the Unknown, the First Krolo. They are objects of sacred and immense power. Strong enough to kill a krolo, only if the being met the criteria.
Enjarious turned pale. It was the sword of the cutting wind, the name forgotten to mortal’s knowledge. He calmly asks Meaphael why he seeks the metal and what it has to do with the object. He knows in his heart the reason why. Meaphael wanted to graft something into it. They needed the strongest and purest metals to even accomplish the task.
Meaphael answered with a more shocking answer, “I plan to make sure that the sword never leaves my hand and never enters one of demonic intentions.”
Mezol felt the urge to scream at Meaphael, but his body lacked the courage. The sky before them turned red and fire rained down. Malicine was attacking, somehow he knew Meaphael’s plan. Mezol turned to fight, at this point fear was at all corners and he had no choice but to fight.
Meaphael laid his heavy paw in front of Mezol. He stated, for all to hear, “This is not your fight, child! Let your Guardian fend off the demon.”
Mezol noticed something metal strewn across Malicine’s neck. It was a pendant, with the sword Nec’rakros afffixed onto it. Malicine using the Artifact’s power put a curse on Meaphael, controlling his body. Red aura flew around his body as the spell set in. The sword of cutting winds was in Mezol’s hands. It had fallen off Meaphael, when he left to confront Malicine. Now what can he do?
End of Prologue, Part 3 of 5
I hope you enjoy!!
(Two more to go for the prologue!!! Thank you for being patient with me. It was a bit tough for me to get back into writing this, but after I wrote a poem that takes place in this story, specifically Moner’s story. I got back into the story and was finally able to write more on it.)