A Chance Beginning: Book One of the Shadow's Fire Trilogy

Prologue and Chapter One

A Chance Beginning

Book One of the Shadow's Fire Trilogy

By Christopher Patterson

Prologue

            I was there. I fought at the Battle of Bethuliam so many years ago. I heard the call of the Golden City even in the west, past the cursed forests of Ul'Erel, in the desert wastelands where those exiled fled to so long ago. We took up sword and shield, donned armor, beat drums and blew horns for the call, for the cause, for righteousness, for the world and for the Creator. I fought and killed. I felt bone under my steel. I heard the wailing of my victims. I saw brother fight brother, father fight son, whole families—peoples—extinguished from time. I swam in a river of blood, tasted flesh, inhaled burning skin, vomited curses, and, in the end, bled victory; bled freedom. I fought alongside Justus before the world knew him as King Agempi, the Keeper of the Golden Gates. And I watched Justus Guerus sign a treaty with Rimrûk Aztûk, General of Golgolithul and new Lord High Chancellor.

            Standing here, staring at nothing but rolling hills and grasslands, I still wonder if the Creator left it all to chance or if he had his hand in it all. Did the Creator will Gol-Durathna and The Alliance to win the battle that ended the age known as The Darkening? Was either side really better than the other? I suppose that is an unanswerable question. In fact, I mean not to answer it, glad I don't have to answer it. I can stand here, in the grasslands and rolling hills of the west, at peace. After a lifetime of battle and bloodshed, loss and taking life, by the grace of the Creator, I can finally settle and rest, build something with these hands rather than destroy.

            My brother—the one of four that survived with me—chose to move on, go back to the wilds beyond Ul'Erel, go back to our people and continue to rebuild there. I think this is where I will stay. No more rebuilding for me; just building, creating, loving, growing. I think it has been too long since anyone from my race has lived this side of the Great Forest. It was my people, after all, that turned the tide for The Alliance. I will teach my sons, their sons, and their sons a life of peace, a life in reverence to the Creator, a life of harmony. But, if ever the call came again, the call for a people to save the world once again, my people would be here, close at hand, ready to fight for good in the name of the Creator. Yes, this is where I stake a claim to last generations.

            I look back at my people. My heart sinks. A dozen women. A handful of men. All waiting for my move.

            "My brothers and sisters," I tell them, "this is where we stay. This is where we will make a new life, a better life, a peaceful life."

            They nod in approval. War is hard on them as well. Living in the wilds of the west is even harder.

            "How?" one man asks.

            "We will use the land," I answer. "We will farm and grow orchards and raise cattle and sheep and pigs as our ancestors did; and we will pray for the Creator's will to favor us."

            I look back at this rolling grassland, but what I see, what I see is so much more. I smell the sweet, musky smell of early morning dew. I hear the morning dove coo just as the sun peaks from the east, a simple line of light along the horizon like candlelight shining underneath a door. I see fields of corn and bean and wheat. I see rows of apple and pear and peach orchards. I hear people singing. I see them dancing at harvest festivals and singing songs of the past, songs they love and yet, know not from where they come. I see a people forgetting about a past filled with violence and war and creating a future of peace.