Prologue

The starless night sky was filled by a blanket of clouds. The atmosphere was charged and heavy, as droplets started to form between each careful strand of drapery. The moon refused to show itself, holding its breath, as if in anticipation of the rain to come. A few moments passed before a huge roar of thunder boomed through the static air. In the silence that followed, there lingered the faintest of sounds, pounding ever so slowly like the beat of a dying heart.

Below, there lay a sturdy fortress built by the slaves and captives of the Empire. It was a magnificent structure that housed a few thousand men as they prepared for war. A good portion of these men were poor townsfolk who joined the battle in exchange for provisions and supplies for their family. Many of these men were already battle-hardened soldiers of the Empire. Some of these men were prisoners of war, and there were some who joined the battle for the glory of it all. A few thousand men composed of peasants, warriors, captives, and fools; each and every one clutching their weapons with steadfast determination against the terrors of the oncoming war.

In the heart of the fortress rested a spacious council room adorned with silver and gold embellishments. There was a golden statue shaped in the figure of the Emperor that sat on an elegant throne atop an elevated platform. In the middle of the room was a long rectangular table filled with maps and reports. By the table were ten lavish chairs, but only six were currently occupied. There was an occasional crackle from the fireplace tucked in one side of the room. It provided warmth against the cool air of the chilly night that was slowly engulfing the lavish council room. On the other side of the room were a set of two wooden doors engraved with the seal of the Moniyan Empire. A bright chandelier made from the finest glass hung above the heads of the council members as they talked of war and strategy.

It had been a long night. Shortly after, each member of the council began to take their leave as they assumed their responsibilities. Only two more seats remained occupied. A regal-looking woman clothed in riches and fine silk robes sat on one end of the table, while a young inventor from a foreign land sat on one of the chairs to the side.

"Do you know why I called for you, inventor?" asked the lady as she took a sip of wine from her stone goblet encrusted with bright jewels.

"Yes, Your Grace," replied the inventor.

"Very well." The lady stood up, revealing her once-golden hair to be lined with silver. She was a beautiful lady, with all the distinctive features that marked her as one of the Moniyan Nobles: golden-brown hair, sturdy jaw, eyes as blue as the sky, and a flashing temper that waxed and waned like the pale moon. She stood with dignity and grace, as taught to every noble at a young age. She carried her wine with her in a stone goblet and approached the fireplace with slow steps.

"All this talk of demons and witches have made the men in this fortress nervous and jittery," the woman said. "Many believe that this war… this war against demons is too risky. That it is a dangerous and futile attempt at conquest. They're so craven and cowardly to believe that whether we win or not, for what it's worth, we will have no victory here. Do you share the same sentiment as well?"

"No, My Lady," carefully replied the inventor, remembering the lady's temperament. "I cannot claim the same thing, for I am not of this Empire."

"I see." The woman went to a cupboard, and fetched herself some more wine. The atmosphere was static. "The Emperor once told me that wars were like fires."

"All those years ago, when my first-born child was killed by demons on his first birthday…" the woman faltered, but continued, "His Excellency, my husband, decided that we shall overtake the Abyss as well. The death of my son was the match that lit this fire, this war between the Empire and the Abyss. This has been the greatest fire of them all, one that is birthed from vengeance, and will be snuffed out through vengeance."

The woman faced the inventor with bloodshot eyes. "Do you understand? This fire already started burning ages ago. It was not us who started it; it was those damned demons. If we'll go down trying to extinguish their flames, then so be it." The pained lady returned to her seat with an empty goblet.

The inventor was silent. The Empress realized what she had said, and continued, "I apologize, I am not feeling myself this night. It seems I am not fit to lead the conquest in the absence of my husband, after all."

"There is nothing to apologize for, Your Grace," the inventor replied earnestly. Dead silence seeped into the room, before the inventor fake-coughed. "Ahem, well, Your Grace, about the—the thing that I…"

The Empress nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes, yes." From one of the folds of her silk robes, she fetched a glowing crystal. It radiated a soft purple glow that reflected on the Empress' face. "This is a very special stone. One of the slaves discovered this stone under this very fortress, can you believe it?" the Empress mused. "Luckily, one of the guards saw it, or else that slave may have kept this stone for himself."

Recognizing the stone, the inventor was hesitant. "Your Grace, if I may ask, what exactly I am to do with this… stone?" inquired the inventor, feigning ignorance. "If it is a weapon you are asking me to create, then perhaps the council should–"

"The council," interrupted the Empress as she smiled, "is not aware of many certain things." She twirled the purple stone in her hands. "I believe the demons might be after this stone as well. I imagine its power must be immeasurable." She held up the stone, inspecting it with interest. "You are one of the most promising inventors from the City of Scholars, surely, you can guess what my actual intentions are?"

The inventor nodded, but as the inventor uttered a reply, a boisterous bolt of thunder boomed from outside the fortress, drowning out the words. It was too loud, too close and too unnerving that caused both of them to stand up from their chairs. The Empress once again concealed the stone amongst her robes.

There was a peculiar smell in the air, a strange mix of iron and decay. A slow and methodical sound overcame their senses, like a slow pulsating heartbeat. Chills began to creep up on the body of both the lady and the inventor as shadows danced across the floors, to the walls, and finally, to the ceiling.

The glass chandelier swung once, twice, and thrice before it fell towards the long table, landing directly on one of the maps that depicted the whole territory of the Moniyan Empire. As the glass shattered into a million broken pieces, screams were heard all across the fortress. The fortress was under siege. In the distance, the deep sound of a horn was heard.

The two doors flew open as if blown apart by a strong gust of wind. Almost immediately, a cold sensation shot up through the remaining people in the council room. Beyond the doorway, the mutilated figures of the Empress' personal guards now looked like soulless husks devoid of life. The bodies were split open, a gruesome sight to behold, but there were no signs of blood.

"Who's there?!" demanded the Empress, eyes scanning for any flickering movement. "I command you as the Empress, show yourself at once!"

Instead of words, a demonic laughter came back from the shadows of the now dark and empty hallway, aside from the two bodies lying on the stone floor. It was a sound so haunting, burrowing in their ears like hungry rats escaping from death.

Alarmed, the inventor grabbed something from a satchel and threw it at the direction of the bodies.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

A few moments later, it exploded in a bright flash of light, illuminating the dark hallway, but revealing nothing else. Then, darkness swallowed the empty hallway once more.

The inventor readied more gadgets and tools to better defend against the oncoming danger. The Empress stepped forward and wore a brave face. "I warn you, fiend, or whatever it is that you are," she said as she drew a dagger that was concealed in her robe. "Whatever it is you are looking for… you won't find it here. You are knocking on the wrong door. The only thing you'll find is the vengeful wrath of the Empire!"

As if in retort, a witch's scream soon filled the spacious room, reverberating across corners and walls. At this, the fireplace crackled loudly for the last time and was snuffed out. It was dark for a few moments. Chairs flew into multiple directions, hitting furniture and human alike. The long table suddenly caught fire out of nowhere, illuminating the room with a dark wash of crimson red. The Empress stared in horror as the golden figure of the Emperor began to melt from its golden perch. Its distorted face morphed into a visage of pure agony as it continued to flow downwards like blood gushing out from a fresh kill. The first droplet singed the stone floor as all the gold and silver linings that adorned the room liquified like rich fine wine cascading unto a stone goblet.

Finally, as thunder roared through the fortress a third time, it began to rain.