Prologue for Dark Prophecies:
Legs burning almost as much as his lungs, Loest actually considered taking a moment to catch his breath. Running had, after all, seemingly become his new favorite past time since the fall of Arada's temple so long ago. First, he'd escaped Layar for a short time, trying to tear himself from such a brutal past. Then, soon after, he'd fled again, trying to stop the prophecy his father had given. Fate seemed to have other ideas though, as it led him to the very height of Mt. Balor and the fortress that'd been erected there.
It'd been stupid luck - emphasis on stupid - that he'd not been captured once he'd stumbled across the marching armies of the Shadow.
The memory spurred him on.
Somehow, more worlds had been brought to bear against the warless people of Balor; even some of its citizens had joined the cause to rule it. Monstrosities that the past two years had not prepared him for, creations of darkness given flesh. He knew he had to get back to the leaders of the alliance to warn them, and he forced his body over the last crested hill.
At last he set his eyes upon the forces of the united human armies, drawn from around the world as ancient grudges were forgotten and forged into a single purpose. He'd come to warn them, but now he wondered if the Shadow were the ones unprepared.
Epilogue for Dark Prophecies: TBA
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