Project Hera

Prologue: Gideon

"We must escape this storm." Gideon hissed as the woods darkened around them. It was barely the fifth hour into the obscenely short days or Erdorn, but even that was no excuse for how quickly the sky had darkened. 

"Do you fear the night?" Rifton asked as he continued moving through the woods, torch firmly in hand. Ignorance seeming to cling to his armor, as he disregarded the eerie feeling that the Gideon felt.

"No, I fear what may lurk in the darkness that comes with it." Gideon replied. He didn't really think there was anything there, but if there was it wouldn't have surprised him. It was just that kind of day.

Rifton glanced back his brow raised, "And what lurks within this darkness?"

"Something that only the darkness should know about." He replied his eyes forward looking past Rifton.

Rifton was the first born to a powerful lord who owned most of the land in the countryside of Norfolk, the most southern lands of Avarin. With this land came many men, and many men meant the means to a massive army. One of the biggest sworn to Emperor Valin, giving Rift's family more power and pull then they deserved.

Rift, being the heir to Norfolk was expected to be able to lead his father's armies at sixteen. Erdorn being nothing more than proving grounds to him, but alas he was untested and seemed fresh off his wet nurses tit. His men didn't truly respect him and assumed this was his first time in command of anyone not sworn to his father.

The boy, now fifteen didn't understand Erdorn, or the way fort Thorn's guard respected the land. Gideon a veteran to the forest, Ash and Erdorn, having spent three years prior at the Fort, still found the land troubling when the sun had fallen and few dared to leave the fort when the sky darkened early.

The group had left at midday six in all with the task of examining the forest of Ash to see what had changed in the charred woods. Ash having gained its name due to the storms that ravaged it, though a storm hadn't been seen in some time.

The storms, though beautiful when they came would rip open the lands they feel upon and turn the earth ablaze with fire. Ash was the closest place to Thorn that they knew was tormented by these forsaken storms.

If anything it wasn't the darkness coming that Gideon feared, it was being caught out in the middle of one of the storms. The abrupt arrival to night did trouble him though, sending nervous chill down his spin. It was odd sign and bad omen for the sun to break its cycle, even in such a odd place like Erdorn.

"I agree with Gideon." Gerald, the oldest of the group said, his voice scared with rasp. "We best find somewhere to take refuge before this darkness swallows us whole.". He carried up the rear of the group, no torch in hand, but instead a blade of iron hand forged by his people who lived far in the north of Avarin. His clothes were made of strips of cloth torn and refitted to make up his strange attire, no doubt another thing he brought from his homelands.

Rift turned on heels almost, a smirk covering his sweaty dirt ridden face, "You fear the darkness to, Gerald?" Holding his torch towards the group now, "I didn't realize I was being paired with such a group of fearful men, do you still suckle from the tit of your mothers while they tell you these stories that make you fear the dark so?"

Gideon could make out the faintest of red coming from Gerald's jaw the rest of his face covered with the shadow that came from his hooded cloak, "I don't fear the dark. I fear what may lurk in it, but I'm old enough to know what lurks in the dark doesn't fear the light, my young lord." Placing his hands on his hood he pulled it back revealing his face, riddled with scars. You couldn't make out original detail even if you tried. His left eye seemed to glow a light blue, his right a deep green.