1 Prologue

The world shimmered in a reluctant haze, a lazy fog settling over the consciousness of those it seized. The sparkling mist, beautiful in its own way, was augmented further by a tremendous, ever-changing radiance. Lights flashed against the darkening sky, contrasted by the absolute stillness, in hues of every color imaginable.

In a clearing, yet still under the cover of the mist, a man stood alone, near a brown hide-covered tent, his body vibrating in time with the complicated words spilling from his mouth. The tent flaps stirred fitfully in time with the radiating lights, waxing and waning as the colors shifted from one extreme edge of the spectrum to another. His hands, parted slightly, were connected by a fluctuating disturbance - a substance that lacked depth and yet appeared entirely whole. It flickered and moved in time with the words, turning various colors from a velvet shade of red, to the dark brown of the forest, and even to the clear blue of a midsummer sky. Its constant change an attribute of uncannily powerful magics, and as each shift occurred, the sky mirrored the color that had just faded from his form.

The words reached a fevered pitch, and suddenly the man lifted his hands above his head, his coat and cloak billowing behind him in a furious wind that was, moments ago, non-existent. The words, previously in a powerful, yet seemingly beautiful manner, were now harsh, ragged, and above all else, lethal sounding. They were words of desolation, destruction, and raw power. The light flared, illuminating the sweat-covered face of the man, his eyes outlined in a sharp relief that betrayed the deception of his youth. The light pulsed, and with each contraction, the cloaked figures' hands grew steadily farther apart. With a final pulse, the light flared, and the sound of hundreds of thunderclaps rent the cool evening air. His words choked off; the need for them was over. As the thunderclaps retreated, echoing all across the prominent range, so did the mist, and the lights settled to a soft glow, no longer shifting erratically.

The power was immense, immeasurable, and above all else, impenetrable. It would be felt by any who were even the slightest bit sensitive to magical energies for hundreds and hundreds of miles. Wards all over the various kingdoms would be clanging in alarm at the force behind what he had wrought. Before, the world sounded at peace, contented. Now, the silence was eerie, desolate. The only sound came from the unnatural wind. It was as if the world were recovering with ragged, wheezing breaths that couldn't quite restore the vitality that had been spent.

The man fell to his knees, his body no longer able to support the weight of his frame. His palms hit the ground, bracing his face inches from smashing into the dirt. Blood pooled under his right hand. A long gash, accentuated by the now incandescent light, extended from the back of his right hand halfway up his arm, blood flowing freely. He looked vulnerable, stricken. Suddenly the silence was broken by a sound that did not fit the seeming newfound peace of this place: a sob. The man collapsed to the dirt, rolling without thought or purpose onto his back, chest heaving in ragged, choked cries of anguish. Tears streamed slowly down his face, his cheeks, and into the dirt, to mingle among the blood and leaves. His cries of pain finally took shape in the form of a single word: "Vali."

The light that had outlined his body was now gone, disappearing as if the arrival of his pain had extinguished it. Yet, above him, a slow, undulating source was now emitting a pleasant glow; as if the light could bear all the woes of the world and not struggle under its burden. It was tall, reaching up higher than even the most ancient of trees in the nearby forest, and stretched as far as the eye could see. Oblivious to the ache that had consumed the man beneath it, his words of power had lent strength to the world and had created an impenetrable barrier. Where once there was only an open field, ringed by a solitary forest, there was now a shining beacon of hope for the people of Kulthast and all the cities of Lituria. This wall of light would keep them safe from the dangers of beyond. The hardest thing this man had ever had to do was the potential salvation of all of the mortal races, yet the damnation of his heart. The man let his eyes wander slowly over the light emitting from the wall, and with one final, shuddering gasp, fell soundlessly into oblivion.