PREFACE

Decisions

          The battle lay at its near end as Lord General Gratis Ardor approaches the high priest temple. Lightning and flame leap from the temple battlements and the trenches below. Gratis emerges cautiously through the screams of scarlet and blue flashes that began to cease from the temple walls. His armor encrusts with the residue of war as he began scanning the field before him, strewn with the corpses of those who lie perishing in their attempt to ascend the steep slope towards the local flame temple. Lord Chancellor Sculptor chose a perfect location for his last stand. The terrain affording no way to advance without being seen, and the temple’s tower bore the advantage of position. So many dead under his steps, so many willing to sacrifice themselves to seize a madman consume with his own genius. Gratis slightly stumbles his way up the trail to the temple; being force to step over the remains of his countrymen on this damnable hill.

His two companions still upon their steeds trotting slowly behind him until the steep stony path prove to be more of a hindrance at their slow pace. They alight from their horses in agreement and annoyance, with their defiant war leader trudging ahead of them. General Ardor left his steed leagues behind earlier in the battle to assist the ground forces in their successful breach of the enemy’s lines. Their once gleaming armor now dims in the light of the latter day’s sun from the floating dust and ash of their fallen kinsman.  The two companions watching Gratis take exhausting steps up the hill, pushing onward to see an end to the day’s bloodletting. As they approach near the temple entrance, steps below the massive doors, the general made a decision to give one final chance for surrender. In wearied breath Gratis began to utter his decree only to be interrupted by the glory-seeking trailing general, who spoke more out of annoyance for the unnecessary journey on foot. “This battle ends here Chancellor… once and for all,” said Lord General Eridanus Aster, shouting up to the windows above. His shout was so loud and boisterous that his brother whom stood a close pace in front of him looks back towards him with a disdainful stare.

Lord High General Divus Aster, the rightful heir to the Phoenix throne and brother to Lord General Eridanus Aster, was cunning and fair, but expresses little patience for trivial matters, allows the boisterous sibling to take his stage. Divus reposition himself to the other side of his steed, allowing the animal to soak in the spittle and spirited howl behind him. As Divus turn to look back toward the windows, his gaze briefly caught an incandescent beam of light that distorted his vision and blacken his mind. He felt his soul burning away and all was dark –just a puppet remain. Divus standing motionless for a few seconds without notice of the others, face began to etch a nefarious smile. Divus, unable to cry out, fighting with all his resolve to not be erase; succumbing to an invisible battle inside himself. His body began to tremble quietly and suddenly falling to one knee. Eridanus noticing this, yell to him, “Brother…” rushing to assist. Divus waves away his advance and gives back a cruel, smug look before he got back to his feet. Eridanus believing the response was an extension of their earlier exchange left him alone, but was curious about his now smug demeanor. Divus might show his annoyance at times but never looks of cruelty. This new Divus; however, bore a secret that poor old Divus will never tell.