Darkness Rising

Prologue

"The time is right."

Wildkin shoot upright, startled awake by the voice echoing out of the great darkness at the end of the cave. Their eyes, with shiny white irises, stare at the void. The rumbles of the voice bounce through the hall, around the ice-crusted pillars and arches and vaulted ceiling. A couple of icicles break off and fall to the floor, where they shatter across the dark grey marble.

"The time is right," the voice rumbles again. "I am strong enough, and the humans are at odds with each other. Today we start our glorious battle. Today we begin to move. Are you ready, my minions? My army?"

One of the Wildkin rises. It is enormous. Muscle bulges out of its patchy leather armour. There are small, useless black wings protruding from its back. Its claws are long and sharp, but it can stand just as any human would, on two legs and upright.

"We was thinking, sir."

"You? You beasts? Thinking?" The voice laughs. "Don't tell me you've been getting ideas, too."

She snarls. Her teeth are sharp. "We was thinking this ain't such a grand idea. The humans have great big ol' armies, and weaponry and trainin' that we ain't got. There are more o' them than us, and we just ain't sure we want to -"

"Silence!"

The Wildkin shrink and cower, except for the one standing. She snarls and braces herself.

"I ain't sure how well you thought this out!" she yells, determined to say what she has to say. "How do you 'spect we'll all survive, huh? Are you throwin' us to the wolves? Are we your disposable army? You ain't gonna have a need for us once you've won. Where's our insurance that we'll get what we deserve?"

"You would mistrust me?"

The voice seems injured, as though offended at the Wildkin's lack of faith.

"Have I ever failed you before? When I told you that you would have a place to live, with plentiful food, did I deliver?"

"Yes," she snarls.

"When I told you that I would protect you from the beasts of the Far North, did I deliver?"

She hesitates. A couple other Wildkin grumble.

"Yes," she mutters.

"I told you I would give you training, and turn you into an army. I told you all this and I did all this. So what reason do you have to expect that I will fail you now?"

There is silence from the hundreds. The Wildkin who spoke out grits her teeth and sits back down.

A figure emerges from the void. The blackness clings to him, like shadowy smoke, and trails behind him as he walks out into the midst of his small army. He is tall, though not even half the height of a Wildkin, and broad-shouldered. His loose, dark clothes float around him. The voice is his, but it does not come from him - it echoes from the void still.

"I will get you what I have promised you: land, gold, slaves. Everything you could ever wish for shall be yours when we conquer this continent. This I promise you. You shall have it. I have never failed you before, and I shall not fail you now."

The figure is standing in front of the Wildkin who spoke out. He stares at her with ghostly grey eyes.

"You are misled. I will still need you once this is all over."

"What for?" she growls.

"I will need someone to control the human horde. Drive the slaves. Keep them in line. They will not submit easily, and I will need you - every one of you - to help me control them. In return, as I have said, you will have all that you could ever want and more. Is this satisfactory?"

There is more grumbling. They mutter among themselves for a moment.

"Yes," says the speaker at last. "It is."

"Then let us begin. As I said, the time is right. We must move quickly, or our chance will be gone."

The figure looks up and past all the Wildkin to the great double doors of the cathedral.

"It is time for war."