1 Chapter 1 "Deeds of Violence."

Utter red. The red that painted the clouds hovering close to the ground. The red of a soldier's cape rumpled and fouled by mud; and miles of land veiled with blood red.

A silent breeze ruffled the banner staked roughly into a corpse, carrying a sanguineous odour through the wasteland. The odour of death had followed humanity since the dawn of life and had caused many people to flee, yet it drew in creatures craving blood and vice.

The once-bright field was clouded by dust and black shapes of crows. They stalked the barren ground with eyes hungry for flesh, their sharp beaks aching to tear out the eyes of thousands of men and women sacrificed for peace, laying butchered on the ground they sought to protect. Their bodies were mingled, their shattered swords and spears dumped around the blood-soaked soil, left without a purpose to fulfil.

The eerie atmosphere changed abruptly. The wind faded away and took the carmine clouds of sand with it. A white silhouette appeared in the valley, wandering about in a gentle manner as if worried to awake the dead. The young man's motions resembled those of a feline's, reserved yet emitting boldness with each step. His rich ivory cloak brushed against the bodies of the fallen, his fair curls fell in front of his face as he crouched beside a mutilated corpse and stared at its gaze.

"Forgive me," he whispered and reached his hand towards the man. "I failed to protect you." The stiff carcass was disfigured as if a beast had ripped it apart. His right arm was missing, most likely muddled with the rest of the butchery. His face twisted in an eternal terror. The look unnerved the youth. He removed the dirt and blood smeared on the soldier's face and closed his eyes gently.

He recalled his face among the crowd of soldiers praying for his blessings before the battle. Their eyes gleamed with courage as they comforted him, certain for their victory. A sense of guilt filled his chest. He should have disregarded the king's orders and followed them, fought with them side by side like he had done for decades.

"You are not to blame, Frey, my sweet friend. War is brutal at all times." A gentle voice travelled through the desert. The boy followed the call and recognized a figure in the distance. Standing farther away from the battlefield was a pale man dressed in an attire that made him look even paler. His youthful features brightened as he smiled, he approached, his silky hair flowing like a black river.

"How long has it been! Have you missed me?" he chuckled and tugged the boy to his chest.

Frey staggered while he tried to pull away, the sorrow feeling switched to anger. He wished he could stab the man right then and there.

"Bastard! Have some respect for the dead," he lashed out.

The man released the younger one and placed his palm over his chest. "My apologies. I, Yuan, The Dragon King of the three realms, wholeheartedly honour the souls of the dead and pray for them to find peace in the afterlife."

Both fell silent for a minute staring at a corpse skewered with a flag in his abdomen. The brutality of the battle was unimaginable to both. The bodies were so disfigured, one would think they were attacked by a grisly beast. It was a sight that would upset anyone, immortal or not.

The silence was once again disturbed by Yuan. "I was certain I would find you here. There is a matter that needs to be discussed."

Frey looked deep in his eyes. They were black like the colour of the finest obsidian, but they did not cover the way to his thoughts. "I don't give a damn about another one of heaven's absurd rumours," he said after a while.

"Ah, haven't we agreed you would stop poking around in others' minds for no good reason? It is abuse of privacy."

"I'll give you a good enough reason," he turned with a flutter of his cloak and walked away. "You vanish without a word, then show up after two decades, in a battlefield of all places. What did you expect?"

The dragon King followed with a bitter smile, he paced carefully among the dead.

"I expected you would be more understanding. Watching humans slaughter one another for so many years has its effects on all of us." He looked at the cold face that was staring back at him and hesitated to continue. "These humans, they spill blood everywhere, war after war, like they are thirsty for more, like they enjoy it. Gods are not used to such bloodletting."

The boy was quiet for a while. He stared at the field of battle like he longed to get away.

"Go back if you wish so. The Far East is peaceful with or without your guidance."

Yuan's smile grew. "It seems they take after their patron God, and rightfully so." He laughed as the boy rolled his eyes at him. "Still, how could I ever abandon you? The safeguard of earth is our burden to share, you must not carry the weight of it all."

Frey took a deep breath, the nauseating smell cut short his friend's easing voice.

The war had left no winner this time. The warriors of Vulz surrendered despite their upper hand in power and quickly reclaimed their dead. He observed the corpses once more, there was something he could not brush off, something was different from the battles he had witnessed before.

"Do you really believe humans are capable of such carnage?" he asked.

"Humans are peculiar creatures. They keep surprising us again and again," Yuan answered.

"Yet something does not feel right." He stared at him and a smile masked the frown of his face. "I am glad that you're back, we do have a lot to discuss. Come, tell me what is bothering heavens this time."

☾

Frey knocked a wooden mug on the table, spilling almost half of it. "So uncle convinced the Council to dispatch another one? That's bizarre! It took me years just to speak with them."

They were seated at a shabby old tavern near a marketplace. The ale and the loudness of the street made both forget the previous grisly situation. The Greasy Meerkat was as empty as a desert, which was not out of the ordinary. Yet the old innkeeper kept wiping the already clean tables while his young daughter sat sluggishly, chewing on wheat straw. She stared at the pair with narrowed eyes, unblinking. The dragon King grimaced at her.

"As I mentioned, it is just hearsay among the public. Supposedly, lord Ellisar had expressed his intentions a while ago but never clarified them," he said.

"Why does he want another God on earth? It is not Raziel, I hope." He took a long sip of the amber liquid.

"Even though you yearn for him?"

Frey choked. He coughed out violently, receiving weird stares from the little girl.

The man chuckled. "No need to be embarrassed, you do know he threw quite a tantrum when you left. The citizens were terrified. I heard he burned half of the garden, the flames had almost reached the Argent Mountains."

The boy covered his face and Yuan knew not to press further. "Do not worry, the Council would never allow our future king to get involved in humanly affairs."

Frey nodded. "Tell me, did you hear anything else during your stay? Anything unusual?"

"Unusual in what respect?"

"Like an Empyrean descending in secret."

Yuan's face changed, his brows snapped together. "How did you come to such ridiculous conclusion? Don't tell me you believe those barbarians allied with a God without us taking any notice."

Frey knew it was ridiculous, but a part of him wondered. Countless civilizations worshipped Gods before even knowing they were real. They sacrificed to Gods of weather and agriculture, Gods of war and peace. Every river had its own deity, every kingdom its own protector. But the divine beings living in heavens were not the ones they prayed to. The heaven realm was detached from earth for centuries and it would have stayed that way had it not been for the change of orders by the Holy Council. The rules of the Empyrean realm were rigorous, but they prevented any God from causing trouble in worlds beyond their reach. Until now.

"Is it so ridiculous?" He asked brashly. "You know their beliefs. Would it surprise you if one of them wanted to dominate a nation or two?"

The man blinked in astonishment. "Why would they stoop so low just to rule over a foreign land? And even if they did, it is against the laws. Who would jeopardize their position in heaven because of some uncivilized beings?"

Frey exclaimed in ire. "I've been fighting alongside these uncivilized beings for almost a century and never have I witnessed such bloodbath until today. They're not beasts! I've seen evil but I've seen kindness and grace as well. I'm tired of Gods slandering humans when they themselves are the most heartless."

Silence fell over the table. Yuan was about to apologise when a man in dishevelled clothes ran inside the tavern. He shouted something in a language unintelligible to him. The young girl's expression lit up and she bolted towards the market street, her worried father following after her.

"He says there is a fight outside." Frey chugged the remaining beer and wiped his jaw with force.

Midday sun scorched the dusty street outside. Crowds of people were going about their day, trading leather goods and buying silks and jewels. A toddler chased happily after a goat twice her size; some laughed at the scene, others were deeply engrossed in the commotion going on at a pottery store nearby.

Two outlanders were having a violent argument with a shopkeeper, one of them looking more brutal than the other. The taller had unusual scars all over his body, the braids on his long beard quivered as he mouthed curses in his language followed by erratic gestures. He gave a friendly jab to the other, mocking the mannerly old man trying to keep the quarrel civilized.

"I'm only askin' you to pay for what you damaged, I don't need no trouble. You break, you pay," he mouthed patiently.

The two savages exchanged a look and began laughing. The taller grabbed the old man by the collar, his eyes narrowed. "I break your bones instead," he hissed with an accent that made people around shudder.

The shop owner looked at the crowd gathered around them. They glanced and whispered, none of them cared enough to step in and none of them had the guts to do so. After all, what crazy person would dare confront a seven-foot-tall brute.

"Didn't you hear what the man said or should I translate it for you?"

Plenty of eyes fell upon the teenager appearing out of nowhere. He could not have been more than eighteen yet he dared to confront a man that could snap him like a twig with his bare hands. They sighed, they had seen stronger lads lose their lives due to their foolish heroism.

Frey had taken off his cape and fanned himself aggressively. "Somehow I still can't get used to this heat," he whispered to himself then called, "hey, hey mister! Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

The barbarian tilted his head, he saw a boy provoking him and ignored him with a sneer. As he was about to punch the shopkeeper, he felt a slight pain on the back of his skull. A vein bulged from his forehead as a second pebble hit the wooden pillar opposite of him. He turned slowly, the boy's goofing did not amuse him. He snarled and advanced towards him, his steps sounding like parading elephants.

"You want fight little man?"

Frey strained his neck looking at the brute in front of him, his bulging bloodshot eyes disturbed him slightly. The man's gaze was as empty as the tavern they sat in.

"Huh, strange," he raised an eyebrow as he turned over to the tavern, "Yu, I can't read his—"

Without warning the giant landed a punch, sending the youth crashing into the pub. The innkeeper cried out; his daughter cheered. The crowd gave a loud gasp as they mumbled, some of them snickered, stating how the boy never stood a chance and called him delusional. A man from the crowd quickly scolded them. "You imbeciles! Don't you know who that is?"

People stopped the conversation and jerked their heads with curiosity. They heard a noise of clatter from the pub, like wooden objects flying around. Yuan opened his fan and covered his face with a sigh. The atmosphere became heavy as the white silhouette was slowly making its way to the street.

Two swords clashed at a lightning speed causing a shockwave that threw the crowd to the ground. A magnificent golden longsword crossed against a steel blade, fighting for dominance. The brute growled like a beast, the pressure on his sword was—unexpected for him—too powerful to handle. His clutch rigidified as he thrust the blade forward but unable to push the youth away, he quickly distanced himself. Frey twirled his sword with his left hand and struck again fiercer than before. His blow was once again deflected by the opponent who directed his attack to the younger's neck resulting in a series of gasps from the crowd. And the duel was over in seconds. The savage was overwhelmed by the shattering of his sword, leaving an opening for Frey for a fatal blow; yet the youth halted.

"What are you?" He asked and pointed the weapon at his forehead.

The barbarian bared his teeth.

"An ordinary human does not stand a chance against my sword. What God bestowed you with such power?" Continued the boy.

"God?" Hissed the other, "screw your Gods."

Frey laughed. Had the situation been different, he would have agreed with the man. He pulled back and his sword dispersed into thin air with a twirl. He lifted his right hand, the crescent mark on his palm glowed silver. People circling them held their breaths as they realised the boy's identity at last. "The Heavenborn", they whispered one of several titles he was given by the mortals.

The man's face changed when he realised the identity of his opponent. He took a step back slowly when s silver blade pierced through his hairy chest like a knife through the most tender part of beef.

Frey exclaimed together with the crowd. A pained growl escaped the barbarian's mouth, he glanced sideways, for a second, he saw the man he was joking with moments before. It all happened too quick for them to realise what had happened. The man took the chance and pulled out the dagger, glancing at the boy. His eyes were just as empty. He smirked and slithered into the large crowd as swiftly as a snake.

Frey was crushed by the weight of the giant, he supported him as he coughed out a mouthful of blood. The boy's eyes blazed with anger, he never intended for anyone to get hurt. He gently laid the man to the ground and rushed in the direction of the attacker.

As he passed through the crowd, he found himself surrounded by more people. His gaze darted at carriages transporting huge piles of wheat. It was easy for a man to hide in such a bustling place, but a lot of people also meant a lot of eyes. He clenched his hands. Immediately his blue eyes glowed white and a flashing crescent appeared on his forehead.

Thousands of unfamiliar memories floated in his mind like butterflies, each one of them holding an emotion. The voices of strangers rang through his head, a couple of them screamed, causing him to cover his ears instinctively. He winced at the pain as he went through hundreds of images until suddenly his vision blurred; the noises dulled and began fading away when he sensed gentle arms cradling him. Yuan caught the boy just as he was about to collapse, he watched him stare at the sky, his eyes still shining.

"Frey! What's wrong?" He asked, holding his face in his hands. "Snap out of it!"

Frey felt darkness overwhelm his senses. A cold giggle drowned out the shouting in the distance and paralyzed his body. The laugh morphed into an eerie lullaby as he slowly fell into unconsciousness.

"Sleep my dear, sleep

The moon is full.

Hush, little cub

Or the void will swallow you whole."