Glow

Prologue

Welcome to the story.

It's going to get a bit cliche in here.

___________________________________

Once upon a time, there was The Sickness.

The Sickness was ruthless and unexpected, to say the least. It swept the land, causing people of good health to drop dead. Such painless and sudden endings quickly made marriage close to obsolete. Young brides lamented outside their homes; their husbands, who had complained of aches or coughs moments before, had simply laid down and died. The Sickness had mugged the nation of Chi and went through its pockets for spare healthy people which it then proceeded to stamp under its foot.​​

With the constant threat of death looming over one's head, everyday life was carried out in a wary manner. If someone on the street were to drop dead, you stayed away. If you were to drop dead... it would be safe to say that you wouldn't care anymore. The contagion was spreading fast, and there was no accurate way to find its source. Over the course of a week, it had reached its deathly hand into even the shadiest corners of the five realms

Healers, once scoffed at, became renown for their home-made remedies. Each remedy had its own requirements in order to work. Take this potion on the night of a new moon, put this flower in the heel of your shoe and yodel for a day, et cetera, et cetera. Even though these so-called cures rarely worked, they stayed mass hysteria for a little while, if only for a few days.

If you weren't partial to earthly methods, one looked to the gods for help.

It was rumoured that Aphorel, the god of death, had something to do this plague. Because of his prestige, he was a god to be feared. And since he was a god to be feared, the people gave him weekly sacrifices. When the Sickness had first began, such a rite was the equivalent of asking to spare one's children for a few days, until the next one could be completed. But months later, when people were still dying by the bushel, sacrifices increased tenfold. Livestock was stolen to be used in burnt offerings. Food sources were nearly wiped out. Chickens almost went extinct in the nationwide panic that ensued. The mad roamed free, untouched by the ideals of society before the Sickness. Things were no longer on a course for the worse. Things had crashed into the worst, rolled over a couple of times, and then proceeded to fall into a nearby volcano and catch on fire.

To be short- it was really bad.

The relatively-good-news-but-still-bad-news was that a few months after the deadly flu had appeared, its power had began to abate. Instead of the few moments it took to die, it took an hour. In another month, it took a day. In just three more months, it took about two weeks for the infected to perish. At least there was time to say goodbye and isolate yourself. ​​Finally, people began to get back on their feet from their severe beating.

Until the King died.

The fragile strands of hope which were being rebuilt after a year of pain and grief were once again shattered.

But there is still the gentle Glow of a nation. Lost, roaming souls all looking for a lantern to light their way. A beacon of any kind. And there is one, though he will not find his Glow for weeks to come. Despite all of this, he is crucial to this story. A natural element. He has the brightest Glow.