Haniel stood in the Plains of Othe. The mountain in the distance, said to be the home of the gods, ascended into the sky with no end. She was in the armor she had worn while in the service of Ielen, but there were no other soldiers around her.
Instead, a lone Kithik stood across from her. It walked around her as she stood frozen, a mixture of terror and paralysis washing over her. She could feel its influence coursing through her veins, locking her muscles. Its black carapace was interrupted by the cracks in its face, in its skin, that let through a faint light the color of a lavender sunrise. She could feel it probing her mind, trying to reach into it.
The threat came not from the sword it carried, the scornblade; she had seen them cut through a thousand armored men. It did not reach for its weapon. Instead, it kept pushing, relentlessly, into her mind. Was it waiting for her to push back? Or trying to break her?
The world shattered into fire and ash, Mount Othe crumbling and falling into the ground as the world around her transformed. The dream vision of the Kithiks? A necessary step to purge Othenar for its new masters?
The roar of destruction washed over Haniel, and she awoke with a start. Listening to the bustle of activity downstairs and the hushed business of the city at night, she coaxed herself back to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
The Gates of Arstelem (Classic)
FantasyHaniel and Berrand do the king's work as a sellsword and a messenger hired to maintain control of the land. But when Berrand's mentor, the aged priest Gorreth, sends him on a journey to recover the holy text of a god he abandoned long ago, the two f...
