Shattered Destiny
Giancarlo G.
Copyright 2012 by Giancarlo G.
Prologue
“Some lives are forged, like the living blade, by the fires of destiny .While other lives forge, like the hammer of old ,their own destinies”
Calluis Serm on the seven hundredth year of the Prectorian Alliance’s foundation.
The world of Alion, the immortal world, the center of the Universe, a world where the Creator’s breath still lingers in the air, and the colors lost to age and death are still vibrant in life. A place that is home to the fabled Gates of Creation, powerful tunnels through time and space that connect all worlds in Creation to Alion. Darkness also calls Alion home, in the form of Terrors, powerful and treacherous beings intent on challenging the power of the Creator. Casting its drab and grim reality over these fair lands, these powers of Light and Darkness struggle endlessly, shaking the world to its foundations. Control of the Gates means control of the Divine Roads, mastery of Alion, and perhaps the power to challenge the Creator.
Now, five thousand years into our past, the world of Alion is at the brink of catastrophe. The beings known as the Krassians have ravaged the land, leaving death and destruction in their wake. The Enduen, the world’s masters, find themselves outsmarted and outmaneuvered by the warrior Krassians. Men have arisen as a new contender, their numbers having the power to tip the balance of power in either Krassian or Enduen favor. Men’s allegiance is still unclear, feared they might go their separate ways, pitting the world into a three-sided global conflict. Yet the real danger remains undetected, creeping under the surface of this looming world crisis like a silent predator waiting to pounce. Secret and forgotten forces seek to find the Gates of Creation, and the power to control them, to challenge the order of life and the Creator. The fires of war and destruction are being stoked, and the fate of Alion is cast into the winds of uncertainty, until one man, whose destiny was forged in the anvils of peace would walk down a dark and perilous path, forever altering his destiny and that of the world’s…
Shattered Destiny
Sulfil Palvat sat on his beloved chair. His hand stroked the soft leather eliciting a weak smile from his thin lips. Large, and expensive, the chair was all leather with little or no wood furniture showing through. It had been nine years ago to the day that he had acquired the chair for his study and the stench of tanned leather still lingered in the air. Sulfil had heard some of his servants compare the chair to a stuffed cow, and his closest associates agreed on that assessment. Sulfil simply did not care. To him this was the most comfortable chair he had ever sat on. The leather was soft and supple, cradling his body snugly. It was never too warm or too cold. For Sulfil, the chair was perfect.
With a deep yawn, he looked at the numbers of his business’ latest profit reports. All were better than expected with one unit actually surpassing its goals tenfold. He smiled and as he did so, he looked at the reports again, savoring the addictive pleasure of success every time he reviewed them. Owning the largest distribution network of Gora nectar in the continent was the greatest achievement of his life, and the numbers backed that assessment up nicely.
The Gora tree was one of the world's strangest plants. When full grown the Gora tree looked dead, every single sharp branch old and withered. At the end of each branch, a long thin, green shoot dangled. These vines served as the tree's only source of food production. Behind the shoots was a small bulb full of thick, syrupy nectar. This nectar was sweet and contained a strong hallucinogen that if ingested without refinement could kill a full-grown man in twenty seconds. Once refined, the nectar served as a mild analgesic or as a high-powered drink, depending on the level of refinement. Sulfil was one of the few select entrepreneurs that possessed a Central Government issued license to harvest, refine, and distribute the Gora's product.
Standing up he looked out the window, at the small garden that lined the interior of his residence. Three armed men moved about, flanked by large colorful planters full of Durionesse Firecharges in full bloom. The guards drab taupe vests contrasted with the bright green and orange flower petals of the Firecharges. Sulfil had been able to buy off, or run out of business most of his competitors leaving him immense amounts of revenue, and an equally immense amount of enemies. Life behind a ring of well-armed guards and a home built like a fortress was half of the price he paid for wealth and power. The long hours spent in search of a way to improve this aspect of his life were the other half of the payment. Unfortunately, whenever he took care of one particularly dangerous opponent, two came out from under a stone somewhere. Shaking his head, he paced away from the window and sighed. A man did as he did and if he climbed high, it was up to him to keep his own wits. Any man that fell from success had only himself to blame for it. Fortunately, he had recently taken a few extra steps to guarantee he kept on with his success, and by the looks of it, the investment was paying off nicely.
A soft rap on the door stopped his thoughts.
“Come” he said as his eyes swept around his wood paneled study.
The door opened and Gerdid walked in, his usual limp rather severe today. The man had been his servant for about a year. Recommended by an old acquaintance, Gerdid looked to be in his middle years but acted like a much older man. Sulfil had his people do a check on the man and they discovered the ailments were due to injuries he sustained repelling a Krassian attack years ago. Sulfil hired Gerdid, confident that a loyal soldier was also a loyal servant. Unfortunately, the man was still slow and complained constantly about some pain or another. Good help was hard to find indeed!
“The driver has finally arrived sir.” Gerdid said in his dry, reedy voice, followed by a loud raspy cough.
Sulfil’s eyebrows shot up, “Finally?” he echoed, ignoring the disgusting nasal clearing sounds Gerdid was making.
“Yes sir it is past the middle of the day. I sent our driver three hours ago, if you recall.” Gerdid said swallowing visibly; worry creeping up in his tone.
Sulfil cursed silently. He had been so intent in savoring his latest business reports that he had lost account of time. For him to lose track of time was unheard of, not to mention it was extremely dangerous to be unawares of something as important as time. Staying alert meant staying alive and in his line of work this was a daily truth. Swallowing his anger, he straightened his body up in the chair.
“Bring him straight to the study. I am in no mood to waste more of my precious time.”
“Yes sir” Gerdid said with a stiff and marginally formal bow.
Sulfil collected his thoughts, making ready for this meeting. He was not thrilled about what he was going to do but business is business, and if he wanted to guarantee his future then he had to play the cards right. This was in all certainty the most important meeting of his life, and Sulfil Palvat had made sure the deck was stacked in his favor.