SWNOVELXO Chapter 1: Prologue
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'Twas a Present, richly endowed with meaning profound.
'Twas a Past, vibrant and lives within cherished memories.
And 'twas a Future, ensuring that none shall remain barren.
In an age where fortune is but a fleeting wraith, and dire calamities are deemed naught but common tragedies, the echoes of such events linger in the hearts of many folks, leaving non untouched by its cold finger.
In the realm of Threa, a land of bounty shrouded in unspeakable dread, there came a fateful day when a solemn truce was declared. Its – very kin did vow to dedicate their toil, their blood, and their very lives to forge a future for their progeny.
Yet, the tale doth not end here…
Where the light fails to reach every shadowed corner, there lurks the darkness; simmering and biding its time with claws and fangs – poised to strike at the unsuspecting preys.
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Thus, it was. This is the tale of the bygone, of the forgotten. Swallowed by the ancients where none presently dwell; long past the time when it brought exultation to those still alive to behold such sights. Oh, what a shame… What a lamentable shame…
I might venture to say it was a stroke of fortune for me to chance upon this Book of Records. Layer by layer, I have uncovered the mysteries therein.
Verily, I am but a traveler, bereft of coin nor fortune, uncertain of what tomorrow may bring; whether death shall claim my soul at the hands of brigands, or through the chill that clings to my starved body. Precarious, indeed. Though our idea might differ 'bout brigands and starving.
Step by step I traverse this land, with my leg and hands, my walking stick in hand, and my hair trailing likens to a waterfall behind me, stood upon the reefs, rocks and winds; through a realm where naught is visible, shrouded in only mist and shadow.
It has been long. For far too long, they have left no record of what truly transpired. Yet, through the guidance of one of the Primordials, I stand here as a witness to the calamity that once befell this land, and to those warriors, knights, heroes – who were born and eventually returned to the embrace of heaven.
Nay, it may be hell, for I know not what death truly is. Sigh… I grow weary writing with this pen, so small – yet so fragile. Might as well called it a mere stick. Cough… Pray, bear with this old man, for the longer I remain here, the more I find myself distracted.
Nevertheless, though I may claim to be neither a skilled storyteller, nor proficient writer, nor a worthy chronicler of this somewhat majestic – unknown past; all I can do is inscribe these words in this book, for it is the only means by which I might escape this agonizing, dull cave, much like the hue of my skin
Terrible. Oh, so terrible – for I am the Last Paladin, the sole survivor of eons past. The knight who shines upon the path of no return, amidst darkness, death and destruction.
Alas, it was not my intent to mock thee, O Lord Gehenna; I humbly beseech thee to turn thine eyes away from this wretched form, for I fear that thy beautiful gaze shall be sullied by the sight of this abomination.
Anyway…
For the beginning of this book, this tale shall speak of a boy most unfortunate. Blessed and cursed in an equal measure – an embodiment of all that mortals deem to the 'T', I might say. 'Twas a slang that boys and girls of the future shall employ!!?
It was, but a jest – pray, do not regard me as a meal, my lord, for I possess no flesh left from the ravages of war.
In any case… O, you all youthful combatant. This tale…
Shall be penned by mine – apprentice. Of course it was not due to my indolence. As I have oft remarked, I am aged.
Therefore, I beseech thee to learn and weave thine own notions and judgments, for minds vary amongst individuals and in my estimation; none should assert that theirs are superior or more veracious than those of others – for wisdom doth not reside solely in a preordained Destiny or experiences – nor solely in the journey laid before us by Fate – but rather, in the acceptance of those who seek knowledge and continue to learn even against the turbulence. I mayhap be in error, or perchance I am correct.
Regardless, I bid thee farewell…
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There is a lot. A lot inside my head. Memories that do not make sense or cannot be found in the region where I have lived for years. Sometimes, they come with a stabbing pain in my head. Mirages or blurry images alternatingly emerging, familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. Occasionally, dreams came to me in my sleep – offering that of scenes; experiences I am certain are not mine. The smile of a woman looking at me fondly, with a warmth I can't quite grasp rested inside my chest. A tree playing out a symphony gracefully; picturesque and elegant, making laughter of children ring like a bell.
A mist in the air shrouding the visibility of the land I am eager to see. There are also others I remember, like a castle with a beautifully designed chamber. A soft, large bed with red bed curtains draped to the side, tied with a soft, translucent ribbon to the bed pillars, resembling a pair of wings from a butterfly. But then, every time I touch it, it mechanically flutters its wings, with cold sensation left on my dream self-finger. In those dreams, in that room, a girl usually twirls merrily in the same spot. But then a question arises: what is a bed? I have never even seen one. How do I even know that? And more importantly, who is she?
-El's first note-