The Towers of Adrala

Prologue - The End

The End

His waking thoughts brushed against the fragile world above him. Hurricanes spawned from clashing winds, tearing at the coastlines. Endless torrents of rain flooded the plains. Tornadoes cut through civilizations like twisted scalpels. Devastating thunderstorms, destructive eruptions. The inhabitants of this world were left confused and afraid for their existence, not knowing why their home tore itself apart.

But for the being whose thoughts brought catastrophe, he awoke without knowledge of anything at all.

He saw nothing, felt nothing except the vastness of himself. He hung in a stasis without any form of understanding. He was a mind lost in its own galaxy of thought. Then words, thoughts, questions he should know began to pull themselves from the turmoiling cloak of bewilderment. One question rose above the others, so it was this question he decided to ask.

<Who am I?>

His thought echoed throughout his prison. His answer came slowly, tantalizingly. When the answer came within his grasp it exploded into a myriad of images. Strange senses assaulted his confused self. Green fields, snowy mountains, the feel of water, the smell of autumn.

<Autumn?>

His confused mind only caused the images to come faster, stronger. Creatures flying amongst the clouds in neat formations. Cities carved into mountainsides. A strange rough noise, repeating tones and inflections. These spun around him until a slow dawning of realization swept over him. Those creatures were his kind, the cities were his cities, and that noise was his people's tongue. More scenes played before his astonished eyes. The more he watched them, the more he began to remember. Exhilaration sped through his veins when he recognized his first flight. He found his joy of a science that had many names. Manipulation. The Guiding. The Control.

<Magic>

The shadows his brothers casted were long, their brilliance always outshining him. But he was determined. He grinned at his many successes, his advancement in this science, this Magic. He watched his prestige grow, his fame, his greatness. He saw his brothers, whom he had fought so hard to impress, finally proud of him.

He had everything he ever wanted.

Then the images disappeared. They were replaced by ones of strange, alien creatures. They were small, two-legged beings that spoke their own odd tongue. Instead of impressive caverns they built huts of wood and stone. Their way was brutal and without direction. His people watched these fragile creatures in mild amusement, these barbarians, these aliens, these...

<Humans>

In the beginning his people shunned them, their culture strange and unrefined. They seemed so easily broken, their lives too short to properly live. But he was curious. He saw them account for their fragility with tools and ingenious innovations. Their lives were short but burned brightly. Even with their strangeness he found a strange familiarity with them. So he broke his people’s laws and gave him what he best knew. He gave them Magic.

And with Magic they burned so bright they outshone even him.

Their cities of wood and stone became metropolises of metal. Their medicines lengthened their lives ten-fold, even cured his own people of sicknesses long thought futile to mend. Their art, their language, their culture; it all began to creep into his own. They built the great towers, monoliths of science and Magic, and struck his people with awe in their power. They gained his people’s respect and even began to live among them.