Prologue Fall of Deities

Book One

Blood dripped down his fingertips. The cut stung, the pain somehow illuminating the darkness of the room—the room where she died. He remembered it all through a haze. He could see himself covered in blood, holding a body, but the finer details were blurred behind a veil.

Taking his dagger in hand, he studied the glimmering silver as though his memories could be hidden within, but there was nothing. Nothing stared back at him but the emptiness of his own eyes.

With a sigh, he set the dagger aside and placed his bloodied hand in a bowl where his lifeforce would pool. He studied the scarlet as it collected, mesmerized by the power hidden within.

This oppressive Mettalium empire favored precious metals. Gold, silver, and bronze.

They favored deities that hoarded power and wealth while those at the bottom starved for scraps. They favored armies and brute strength, stomping on the heads of lesser men.

He squeezed the shallow wound, encouraging more blood to flow. He had not been raised to hoard power. For power was not a limited resource. Not for his people. Not for anyone, really. As long as one was willing to withstand the pain of it, unfathomable power could be accessed in every person—harnessed through the blood.

The deities feared the power hidden within humanity, so they kept it forbidden, sequestered, and illegal. The trideities had been proactive in controlling humanity’s strength. They established their dominance by possessing a human, using him as their conduit to maintain global authority—The Prophet.

He gritted his teeth, squeezing the wound harder still, distracting himself from the demi-deity’s vial name. The Prophet. The Prophet was a monster, hardly human at all, and that monster was responsible for their deaths.

With a grunt, the man squeezed his wound one final time before haphazardly bandaging himself. He closed his eyes, placing his forehead against the stone floor below. His eyelids were heavy. This damned home was haunted by so many ghosts he could hardly sleep.

He stood, taking the bowl in hand. He walked to the cold, stony wall, removed a looking glass and dipped his fingertips into the blood.

“I curse the silver Argentum deity,” he hissed, painting symbols that appeared meaningless onto the stone. “I curse the golden Aurum,” he added, gathering more blood, “and I curse the cruel Aes deity, made of bronze.”

The room grew colder as he uttered the words, his breath releasing in small white puffs. The man shivered, resisting the urge to reach for a blanket. It was no struggle to be cold. He’d spent thirteen years of his life in the cold, after all. Steadying himself, he took a breath, closing his eyes to reestablish focus.

He had more to say, but his curses were spent. When his heart rate had settled and his expression softened, he painted again. But this time, he uttered no curse—no words of hatred. Instead, he uttered a blessing. A blessing for his mission. A blessing for his plans and the victories to come.

If the deities could harness humanity’s power and use it for their own cruel and ambitious ends, then he would harness the deities' power and use it for his means. It was no easy mission. It was no simple plan, but he’d chosen his words carefully and would now seal it all with his blood.

Taking a final breath, the man dropped his shoulders. He drew a line of blood on his forehead and another on his chest, right over the mound of scars that had set him free from the Mettalium so many years ago. A tear formed in the corner of his eye as he set his intention, keeping his sights on what lay ahead. With a voice full of hope, he uttered the words, tipping forth the first domino that would bring this entire empire to a bloody end.

“Kin ukimmi en kan lo metalch en fa-kur kan nurkasa eruraska zi schayil.”

With a sigh, he spoke the words into existence, his eyes drifting open as the air around him changed. It was done then. The stage was set. The die cast. Only one truth remained. There was nothing he wouldn’t do, no part of himself he wouldn’t sacrifice, to take his vengeance and end the Mettalium once and for all.