PROLOGUE
White. A snowstorm in the mountains. Wind carried the snow in spirals, clothing rock, tree and anything that remained still long enough in the only powder known to nature that remained wet even after it ceased to exist.
The mountains here formed a chain, a line of stone sentinels, a wall. They embodied a purpose of which they were unaware, but of which they were nonetheless steadfast in their ignorant determination to maintain. To the casual observer the mountains looked the same, one no different than any other. But to those who knew it's secret, it's man-made purpose, one mountain in particular held value the casual would never have dreamed a weather worn rock could possess.
In the westernmost mountain of the chain, there was a cave. Sealed by a boulder that no less than ten men could move, it was not a thing easily found. This, of course, was by design - for within this cave lived those for whom choice of residence was limited. They lived in this cave in hiding from the government of Manajra, the largest and most powerful nation on Helica. Manajra, a country that was essentially one enormous city. Manajra, protector of over one billion citizens. Manajra, bound and defended by a force unlike anything ever before seen - and driven to construction by a force older than time and greater than space.
Outside of the cave in the westernmost mountain of the chain, a man in rags, riding a large beast, held a bundle. A woman, crying, stood close by in the arms of her husband. The man in rags spoke.
"You are doing the right thing. This is no place for a child. The search for her will begin soon. They do not know this place, not now, not yet. But they will."
The crying women pleaded, between her sobs, "Will you at least tell us where you are taking her?"
The man in rags shook his head softly. "You know that were I to tell even you, she would be in danger."
The crying woman buried her head in her husband's shoulder. He spoke for her. "It pains us greatly to see her go. But we trust you, Sharah. More than any other. Go, please, before our strength fails us."
The man in rags, Sharah, nestled the bundle in his saddle. As he prepared his ride he spoke his last words to the distraught couple.
"I will keep her safe. She will save us all."
White. A snowstorm in the mountains. Wind carried the snow in spirals, clothing rock, tree and anything that remained still long enough in the only powder known to nature that remained wet even after it ceased to exist.
The mountains here formed a chain, a line of stone sentinels, a wall. They embodied a purpose of which they were unaware, but of which they were nonetheless steadfast in their ignorant determination to maintain. To the casual observer the mountains looked the same, one no different than any other. But to those who knew it's secret, it's man-made purpose, one mountain in particular held value the casual would never have dreamed a weather worn rock could possess.
In the westernmost mountain of the chain, there was a cave. Sealed by a boulder that no less than ten men could move, it was not a thing easily found. This, of course, was by design - for within this cave lived those for whom choice of residence was limited. They lived in this cave in hiding from the government of Manajra, the largest and most powerful nation on Helica. Manajra, a country that was essentially one enormous city. Manajra, protector of over one billion citizens. Manajra, bound and defended by a force unlike anything ever before seen - and driven to construction by a force older than time and greater than space.
Outside of the cave in the westernmost mountain of the chain, a man in rags, riding a large beast, held a bundle. A woman, crying, stood close by in the arms of her husband. The man in rags spoke.
"You are doing the right thing. This is no place for a child. The search for her will begin soon. They do not know this place, not now, not yet. But they will."
The crying women pleaded, between her sobs, "Will you at least tell us where you are taking her?"
The man in rags shook his head softly. "You know that were I to tell even you, she would be in danger."
The crying woman buried her head in her husband's shoulder. He spoke for her. "It pains us greatly to see her go. But we trust you, Sharah. More than any other. Go, please, before our strength fails us."
The man in rags, Sharah, nestled the bundle in his saddle. As he prepared his ride he spoke his last words to the distraught couple.
"I will keep her safe. She will save us all."
Sweaty man love? That's more a promise than a threat, isn't it?