The Birthright Chronicles

Prologue: The Duty of a King

A large boom echoed throughout the marble stone floor of the castle's immaculate architecture. A large throne lay within this chamber, in which sat a figure who seemed to have the ability to command the heavens themselves.

He bore an irritated expression. "These Darkspawn dare invade my home?" The words but a whisper leaving his mouth, a question to no one in particular.

Kneeling before the throne, on a carpet of velvet red, were an assortment of characters. There were knights and mages, and priestesses as well. They all bowed with the utmost respect to the man before them. The man clad in robes befitting an immortal. His eyes peered over the figures kneeling before him.

"Priestess Ivanna, arise and utter a prayer for the coming battle." One of the white robed women amongst the kneeled figures nodded and arose.

"Blessings of the Goddess," the woman named Ivanna started, her hand waving and her staff raised. "Please watch over us with your benevolent gaze, and provide celestial protection to your ever faithful flock."

A sense of divine protection seemed to fall upon the crowd of warriors and mages, all who held their eyes closed during the prayer. The man upon the throne did similarly. His eyes slowly opened as he grabbed a sword leaning against the throne.

Raising it in the air, he began to speak. "My loyal subjects, the 13 Generals, we move to destroy this Darkspawn threat. The Dark Lord scares us not, for we are righteous in our goals."

He stopped for a moment, gripping the sword tighter. "As I speak, the Darkspawn are attacking our homes, our family. Will we just stand by? Will we let the Darkspawn devour us, and move on to conquer others?" His eyes glowed with a fierce aura as his voice rose. "Will we!? Or will we slay these damnable beasts, and show the world the might of Cyril!?"

The figures known as the 13 Generals all rose with expressions of fierce determination and shouted in unison. "We will slay the Darkspawn!! For the glory of Cyril! All hail King Cailan!"

The man, whose identity was the king of Cyril, looked pleased, but his previous expression returned. "Then let us march forth and destroy these evil beings!"

At that very moment, the giant doors to the marble floor hall burst open, an explosion sending pieces of the door scattered throughout the hall. Emerging from outside the hall was a dark figure. His body was wreathed in an inky blackness, and a wicked scythe-like sword was held in his hand. Beneath a dark hood, a pair of unseen eyes looked over the 13 Generals and the king with disdain.

The king looked at him with an enraged expression. "So... It's you." Behind the man wreathed in darkness came monster after monster wreathed in similar darkness. Their forms numbered many, mostly deformed humanoid-like creatures. They all wielded similar black blades, all of which emanated a sense of death.

"To think, the Dark Lord's own trusted general would show up personally." King Cailan laughed. "The 13 Generals of Cyril, and I, King Cailan, shall end your pitiful existence right here."

Emanating from the hooded figure was a laugh, but it was barely recognizable, due to the creature's odd language and speech. "Oh, you poor fool." These words seemed to be unnatural to the hooded figure, as if this language was not fit for it. "No matter whether you are a king, or even a god, my master will devour you whole."

With that, there was no more discussion. The figure swung his arm, signalling the attack with a blast of some Goddess forsaken spell of Dark Magick, and plumes of darkness flew towards the king. Immediately in retaliation, several balls of flames and lightning flew to collide with the darkness. The mages' spells were easily cancelled, but they weakened the spell enough that it slowly fell apart and returned to the Æther.

The 13 Generals began their counterattack as the Darkspawn began charging forward. What ensued next would make a veteran cower in fear. Blood flew and corpses were left charred with massive plumes of flames and beams of lightning. The king himself was locked in combat with the hooded figure.

"Goddess, blast you!" He yelled as their blades crashed against each other, the clanging of steel ringing out. Pulling away from the engagement, he raised a hand.

"Flames of the Goddess, unfurl the flag of Fate, and unleash the flames of righteousness!"

A bright white flame blazed into existence in the palm of his hand as he glared at the hooded figure. Flinging his hand, he tossed the small flame at him. As it fell, it suddenly grew into a small sea of flames, enveloping the hooded figure.

Laughs rung out again as the hooded figure simply walked out of the flames.

"What..." King Cailan stood dumbfounded. "The Goddess's own flames of righteousness, how...?"

"Pitiful human king, it's quite simple. Your divine Goddess has abandoned you. Now the Dark Lord will destroy all you hold dear..."

Despair flashed in King Cailan's eyes as he witnessed the impossible. "It can't be..." His blade, shining almost like a sun, fell from his grasp and landed upon the marble floor. Falling to his knees, his mind was filled with thoughts of his loved ones, and the kingdom he had ruled for almost fifty years.

The 13 Generals were all but wiped out, save for the master swordsman, Taven Loeher. He stood amongst a group of Darkspawn, his left arm bleeding heavily. His gaze passed over the king.

"Mi'lord!!"

King Cailan's gaze passed over Taven as well, as four words, almost imperceptible left his lips.

"Take care of her."

Tears welled up in Taven's eyes, as he knew exactly what his king meant. Forcing himself, he moved with incredible speed to escape the group of Darkspawn and leave the hall. A few Darkspawn chased after him, but the hooded figure seemed as if he couldn't care less.

"Cailan, king of Cyril, lord of the Marble Palace of Amadriel, today you shall die."

Cailan's eyes closed as he gave one last thought. Goddess help you, Taven Loeher. I leave everything in your hands.

The wicked blade swung down, ending the life of King Cailan.

"Now, our mission here is done." The hooded figure spoke, followed by a laugh. "We shall leave. Our master's true plan has not come yet."

News spread quickly throughout all of the Central Continent. The Kingdom of Cyril would never be the same. Their king, the powerful and well loved, King Cailan, had been killed. The Royal City of Amadriel had been left a shell of its former self. The feared Darkspawn left afterwards, and disappeared from Arengard.