The Empty Fields Of Oblivion
Prologue: Seven Hundred Years
The Praesi. Shaped like a tree and immeasurable in size, it is a universe all on its own. Thousands of planets hang from its many white, translucent branches, each ball of rock and soil with a star and moon of its own. Strands of solid light intertwine to create the branches, acting as a barrier between life and death. Always healing, always protecting, the Praesi was created with care, representing a familial love lost to time and turmoil.
Twelve individuals, men and women, have traveled to each and every planet throughout the Praesi, smiting an evil that threatened all of creation. Trillions have perished because of this evil, yet trillions more have been saved by the incredible powers of these twelve saviors. And now, after culling the terrible plague named Umbra, they travel to extinguish it at the source.
Tiren stands tall on the bow of his ship, gazing solemnly through the visor of his helmet. He dons sleek black armor with fine, sharp edges, fists clenched at his sides. One arm is covered by a sharp black gauntlet, while the other is uncovered, revealing pale skin that stretches over a well-defined bicep and forearm. His ship, a large wooden structure with no sails or rudders, floats through the trunk of the Praesi, heading down towards the roots.
”So this is it, eh? Took long enough, ” A massive man with a deep booming voice steps up, towering over Tirens six-foot frame by three heads, a Warhammer with spiked faces lain over his shoulder. His skin is a dark red, and a black leotard stretches over bulging muscles that fit his ridiculous height. He has black hair with streaks of grey tied in a long ponytail, thick brows with the same ashy color to them, narrow silver eyes, and the battle-worn face of a warrior.
Tiren scoffs, glancing up at a man that has followed him for seven hundred years, ”I had hoped that impatient side of yours would disappear after so many years, Betor. I see it was for naught, ” he responds with smooth words, returning his eyes to the destination ahead.
”Speak for yourself. You may hide behind that helmet, but I know those flat eyes of yours have not changed, ” Betor laughs, gazing forward along with his companion.
Miles ahead, just before the sprawling roots, a massive hole floats in the middle of the Praesis trunk, an anomaly in an otherwise perfect structure. Cracks spread from its uneven edges like shattered glass, and nothing but darkness can be seen on the other side.
Tiren turns away from their destination, a woman stepping up before him with brown skin and milky white eyes. Curly silver hair falls to her shoulders, framing toned cheekbones and thin pink lips contorted into a smile, ”Is it time? ” she asks. The woman wears a black dress, slits from her hips down revealing toned brown legs. Golden armor with intricate engravings covers her chest, shoulders, and forearms.
”Almost, Valeria, ” Tiren responds with a nod. Eight others step up beside Valeria, each belonging to a different race. They all hold weapons and wear armor, a glint of resolution in each of their eyes. Tiren meets every gaze before him one by one, his own hidden behind the black visor of his helmet, ”I assume Gira has departed safely? ” he asks.
”Yes, ” Valeria responds.
”Good, ” Tiren says, eyes drifting to the vast tunnel surrounding the ship. They will know, he thinks, the future generations will know what him and the others have sacrificed for peace. Gira will tell them. The armor-clad man looks at his companions, not of the same blood, yet brothers and sisters all the same, ”This may be the last time we see our home. I know not of what resides on the other side of that hole, but whatever it may be, I have hope you all are prepared to face it, ” Tiren says, a solemn to his voice, ”We have given our lives to this place, yet in the end, I fear even that will not be enough. I cannot guarantee we live through this, and for that I am truly sorry. ”
A massive hand pats Tirens shoulder. He looks up to find Betor standing there, a toothy grin on his crimson face, ”Thats quite alright, Tiren, ” Betor says, looking to the men and women standing before him, ”Weve known for seven hundred years now. The only way all of this can end is in death. I know not of how you all feel, but I am all too ready for this to finally end
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