-1 Prologue
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Author :k_k_b
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-1 Prologue

"The sorrow of my lonely dying soul, can only be measured by depth of my unshed tears. Everyday of my existence in this refuge of mine, I strived not to sink under the weight of my sorrow. But, I admit, my life is nothing but a big heavy sigh. " — The lamentation of a dying god.

Deep in the heart of a mountain, in the ruins of a dimensional world, resided the fading essence of a fallen god. This fading essence of the fallen god was inside a shelter of rocks and crystals. Four symmetrical walls of Palladium rocks containing the runic symbols of a dying light, curved to come together far above the essence of the god, where four life crystals were joined together to form a dome. These runic rocks and life crystals had been preserving the surviving essence of the fallen god. If not for the arrays he had arraigned, he would have been a dead and forgotten god.

The level of attack that could strip away the essence of a god like himself, had to be of the ancient order. Couldn't be an arrant-demon, could it? They never had an immortal war with the demons to warrant that. And, in the heavenly realm? Not likely. Why would an arrant risk his or her existence by going to the heavenly realm to attack him? Didn't make sense. Had to be an extremely powerful entities in the heavenly realm. Probably, a god?

He let out a long sorrowgul sigh. His life was nothing but a big heavy sorrowful sigh.

And here he was due to that. A dying shell of his true existence. A pity it was. Deep down, he knew he would never be back from this dying path. He had lost great amount of his life essence during the attack. Too much to be dead already. He was extremely fortunate to escape with this little essence of his life.

If only he could remember his true self, but the dying essencee had little memory of his past. The larger part of his essence had been destroyed in the attack. He had been trying to recollect who he was but he was unable to, due to the little essence left. He couldn't even remember his own name anymore. Sad indeed. How long had he even been here? Millions of years? Hundreds of millions of years? He had no recollection of this. But he knew he had been here before the beginning of the primeval wars.

He was here when the war started and with his nearly faded life-essence, he concluded he must have spent an eternity in this world of ruins. Down here in this dimensional world, time moved differently. Unlike in the heavenly realm, moments in time could stretch into eternities.

How sad?

The fallen god reminisced.

Hidden, he had remained. Away from the eyes of the prying gods who could be looking for his total annihilation and from the prowling eyes of the deadly demons.

Ah, the demons! True, they were extremely deadly but there had been a relative peace between them and the gods. Though, there were ocassional disputes. The fallen god still had this memory in his dying essence. No side would want an immortal war, a primeval immortal war! Or could there be? To what end?

Ah, so far gone!

It was here in this place he called his refuge, that he learned about the immortal wars between the gods and demons. Through the echoes of sounds carried through time, he was aware of the wars. Though, he didn't know their details. He also came to know about the champions that the gods and demons were choosing for themselves to carry out their interests.

A champion!

Since he became aware of this, he had renewed his resolve to live a little bit longer. Hence, he had continued hiding and waiting for someone who would remember his name. Someone to prevent it from being erased from the memory of the universe. Someone to avenge him? A follower?

But he knew. This was a futile hope. His name would have been long forgotten. Who in their right minds would continue following a dead god? He could recall even when he was still in the heavenly realm, he was not among those with the most followers. Thus, why would he have any follower left talkless of more than one?

He let out a soft sigh as he continued contemplating.

Though, he had no power to change any of the past events, he truly hoped he could recall why he was here. He could only base it on possible assumptions. He had to be hiding from an entity in the heavenly realm that he barely escaped.

But, why?

Part of him wanted to remember the forgotten answers while the other part knew it was in futility. His faded memory left no more for him. All he had left, was a fraction of his life-essence. The dying essence of a hoping god which continued to be preserved by the fading walls of runic lights and the crystals' dome.

As time passes by, his life-essence continued to fade away. As the god was contemplating his fading essence, he heard the faintest and slightest of sound, coming from the mortal realm. His dying essence lit up from happiness.

The echoes of the birth-cries of a newly born ancient, echoes that were carried forward by a believing tribe. He could feel the echoes thrumming in the palladium rock around him, even in the mountain. The eternity he had spent here had created a connection between him and the mountain. He was still a god, albeit a fast dying one. The slightest and faintest echoes vibrated through the mountain and the rocks to him like a pulsing beat among the mountains roots.

A birth of an ancient mortal among his followers! He actually had followers left? Even the god couldn't help but have fits of joy. Probably, his name, that he couldn't remember, wouldn't be forgotten. Probably...

Nonetheless, that was good enough for him. The only problem he would have now, was how to contact and choose the ancient, cautiously. He still didn't know who or what he was hiding from. He probably wouldn't survive long anyway, hence, he had to make every minute count. He had to plan properly before making his contact with the ancient girl.

Patience, my champion. Patience.

He would wait just a little longer. Afterall, he had been waiting all this while. He couldn't afford to make any costly error at this stage in time. Everything depended on this.

With a weary heart full of joy and hope, the dying god rest his mind and began to do what he had long forgotten how to do.

He began to dream.


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