The Summoner of Sanctuary

By Morning's Light cont.

"I haven't been back this way in a long time," Edwin told me. "I want to stop and pay my respects."

I gave a sound of acknowledgment, but I said nothing. I could see the northern bridge that lead into the city in the distance and I knew what I would see next.

The age I was born in was called the Age of Heroes. It was the second age of the world and was called that because it was a time for people to prove themselves, but it used to be called something different. The Age of War began with a long and gruesome battle, forever after known as the Ancient War.

To say the war was vicious would be an understatement. The humans and formless, each joined by their trusted allies, cut down each other without pause or remorse. The fighting never once faltered, it never slept, and it threatened to never end. After centuries, however, a powerful warrior stood up against the war itself.

"This war is over," he declared, and with his might he killed anyone who disagreed. Gradually, two members of each race bowed before him, each wanting nothing but peace. An accord was reached and the Council of Unity was formed. The war had ended, but not before it left its mark on the world. The battlefield was permanently stained and the river that encircled the island had turned crimson with the blood spilt. That is the river we then approached.