Vuroth's Tear: Even the Gods Cry

Prologue

Prologue

In the center of the valley of the Dura Mountains, was the small village of Candon. The icy winds that blew down the mountains kept Candon in a chill for much of the year, only the summer months offered a short thaw from the cold. Where it was spring in the rest of Drakorna, Candon was still bombarded by winter winds.

It was a small village, a place of poverty, surviving on what crops they could grow in the cold, several villagers owned sheep for the wool and meat. Life in Candon was not easy, but those who lived there took pride in their home of hard living.

The temple of Maduk stood in the center of the village, the only building made of stone wasn't exceptionally large, but still towered over all others in Candon. Maduk, once a man, was chosen to ascend to divinity by the goddess, Vuroth. It was said he was once a proud citizen of Candon and so those who lived there prayed to the god who came from the same hard living as themselves.

All Candon was quiet and peaceful as the men and women bundled up with their children to keep warm as they did every night. The wind blew hard, whistling between the cracks and shaking the small shacks to their earthen foundations.

Alvos Delro sat on the cold dirt floor of his home, his daughter, Brena, cradled in his arms with a thick wool blanket wrapped tightly around them both. The warm glow of the fireplace lit her face as she slept and made her blond hair shimmer like thousands of thin golden threads.

"She's finally asleep?" Whispered Alvos' wife, Anya while she sat behind him mending a pair of her husband's torn trousers. She looked up to see him nod and returned her attention to her work.

He looked over his shoulder at her and watched her. Though the light was dim, he could still see her jade green eyes staring with such focus as she worked to patch the knee of his pants that he had torn just hours ago while working with the local blacksmith. Alvos didn't have a trade of his own, instead he worked odd jobs wherever he could to provide for his family.

Anya laid the trousers and needle on her blanketed lap, flexed and shook her hands, the cold had left them feeling stiff and numb. She looked up at Alvos and smiled when she noticed him staring at her with an adoring grin. She found herself wondering how after so many years as her husband, he still looked at her with such pride and love, and that look still made her heart race. There was no need for words between them, no need to break the silence to tell each other how they felt.

The wood of the fire let out a loud pop and they both jumped at the unexpected break in their loving silence. Brena stirred in Alvos' arms and opened her eyes, twinkling jade green to match her mothers, "Daddy, I'm cold."

He ran a loving hand over her golden hair, "Okay, sweetheart," He kissed her on the forehead, his scruffy lip itched her face and she rubbed her head against the blanket, "go over with your mother and I'll put another log on the fire."

She opened the blanket and shivered before climbing to her feet and running to Anya. Anya put the trousers and needle on the floor next to her and opened the blanket she was wrapped in, so her daughter could bundle up with her. Alvos stood and held his arms out to stretch, the cool air blowing in between the cracks of the wall caused a shiver to run down his bare back. He picked the blanket up off the floor and shook it to free it of any clinging dirt before wrapping it around his wife and daughter and kissed them both on the cheek.

He walked next to the fireplace where wood was stacked against the wall and grabbed two logs, one in each of his big hands and carefully, he tossed them into the fire one at a time. For a moment, the fire grew more intense and Alvos basked in the short-lived increase in heat, rubbing his hands together and holding them outstretched. He let out a sigh while he watched the fire dance and shrink slightly.