I stood at the top of Lustger Hill looking sadly down at my village with the wind whipping savagely at my long white hair. I was thinking only of my race and of its future, and for the moment I felt unaccountably sad. 

I hoped I was doing the right thing in following my father’s advice and taking part in tonight’s event. He was the honourable first son of Audron, and I knew that soon all his Responsibilities would fall on me: Meckiel Audron, his only son. My father, Lord Hoslith, was one of the two personal advisors of the king together with Lord Janos my uncle. 
They were the reason I was going to lead my island’s men this night. They were the reason I was entitled to take the advisor’s place after them. Tonight’s expedition was almost entirely their idea, and I had the feeling that life will never be the same after it. 

Seemingly to make me forget all my troubles, the sunset today was glorious. 

As the sun descended beyond the horizon, the sky flushed with brilliant red and golden light dotted here and there by small shapeless clouds. It was time I left the place where I had grown up. Spreading my wings to their full extent, I let the wind get caught in them. I flapped them. Slowly. Reluctant to leave the islands I called home. 

I took a deep breath and pushed with all my might into the hard ground under my feet. The moment I was airborne, I sank into a dive low with the hill’s terrain. Swooping over the town of Coorhagen, I saw several others take flight from all over the island. Hearing my name being called from below me, I stayed my flight.

My father was swooping upwards like a streak of blue lightning towards me. I saw at once that he had transformed in his warrior state. He glittered palely in a bluish sort of light and his long dark hair was now short and white. He was larger, too and had four wings instead of two. 

Many others were impressed but I was used to him transforming whenever he thought necessary. It was a common gift among the Wise Ancients and I was already a little skilled in it too. 

The darkness overwhelmed us as he reached me in the air. There was no need for words. In our heart we were all wondering if we would ever return. He reached me and delivered his usual list of instructions but he only said, “Take care, Meckiel. Your role from now on could be greater then we believe,” before heading off before us like a pale jet of blue light. 

Just like him - I had had barely time to open my mouth to ask him the reason of his transformation. For some reason I felt sure that he wanted to arrive at Aveholt Castle before us, considering his extraordinary speed when transformed. I lead the rest of the men away from Hofsgeth Island. If it were for the last time, I could not be sure at the time.

Flying in close formation, we swept east over the ocean towards Aveholt Island where we were going to meet our king: Raziel Verdwona.

Raziel had come young to the throne. He was about the same age as I am, 35 years in fact – the legal adult age, the age that marked the reaching of maturity. He had been declared king 
when his father died at the last battle of the civil war three decades ago: The Battle of Verdwona. Raziel had been only a baby so until five years ago his mother had ruled in his stead. 

She had passed away and he had ruled ever since. I had never actually seen him until tonight.

We had never flown long distances at night before but the idea had been good. Our purpose was to find new lands in the world besides our islands and if other possibly existing civilisations saw us, we would be in danger of never winning that land under our control. The population of our race was enormous by now and if we didn’t find new settlements soon we were bound to have trouble. This was the purpose of our night expedition. I looked left towards my friends. We were all a light blue-skinned. We all had taloned feet and hands and great majestic wings we were all proud of. I amused myself for the next several minutes by thinking how strange other races were bound to be. Nearly all of us sported long hair. We were The Ancients and were all honoured to be so. 

We were now approaching Aveholt Island rapidly, and as we zoomed towards its centre where the king’s palace was, we beheld all the islands forming Archipelagonia. Aveholt, the largest island of the six was at the centre of the other slightly smaller islands that surrounded it in a wide sort of circle. A little while after this we landed in the front yard of the castle.

A platform had been raised with flaming torches at either side of each. That would be were Raziel and my father and uncle were going to stand. Several other large parties from the rest of Archipelagonia soon joined my group. 

Our ranks swelled and soon enough the entire stone-flagged yard was full to its extent. Silence fell as soon as Raziel stepped up the platform with his advisors. He looked very unlike a warrior, rather tall with the angelic features of his royal house. However, my father always said that he held great powers unknown to us.  He might be younger than most of those gathered before him but he gave an impression of great wisdom and power at the same time. 

He was the trueborn King. As I looked at him, I suddenly believed this and a sense of excitement I could not explain welled up in me. I somehow knew that this moment marked the beginning of many destinies. 

During his short speech, everyone was silent and listening carefully and I knew that with him on our side, almost nothing could stop us.

“The Binded must be saved and The Binding carried out for our own good,” were Raziel’s last words. What could this mean? It didn’t fit in with the rest of the speech. Surely there wasn’t something that the people and I didn’t know? I wondered…

An unexplained sense of dread clamped my heart as Raziel stopped talking and flew upwards into the darkness of the night sky. 

While people all around me began to take flight, as sudden and uninvited as a streak of lightning.  a dark thought crossed my mind. 

I do not know how I ever came to think such a terrible thought.

Soon after that a vision flashed in front of my eyes. A series of strange symbols clouded my vision. They seemed letters, but clearly in a strange language. These symbols seemed harsh 
and cruel, unlike our own alphabet, and I couldn’t decipher anything in the few seconds the vision lasted.

I shuddered and pushed these unwanted dark thoughts to the back of my mind as I swept upwards to new experiences. Whatever happened, I would do anything to prevent this nightmare from becoming a reality but I knew it would be no easy task. 

As I headed towards the front of the group and caught up with my father, I found Raziel flying alongside him and I couldn’t bring myself to accuse them of hiding something. They were both very grim though.  My suspicions were confirmed. 

I swallowed and forced myself to think of other matters-like how I could ever conquest the heart of the beautiful Heartgaze Logti for instance-but somehow didn’t manage it.

I knew our leaders well and I was sure that whatever they were hiding was meant for the good of the whole race. For comfort I held my sword levelled and ready in my hand as I flew. With that blade and the bow strapped to my back, I was a fine warrior.

I had no choice but to trust in Raziel.

In the throne room of Aveholt Castle at Archipelagonia, the atmosphere was tense.  The chamber in itself was magnificent, with enormous pillars entwined with carved serpents rising to support the ceiling. It didn’t inspire any tension at all but usually relaxed its occupants. 

However at the moment, it was empty except for it’s Lord – and he had good reason to be troubled. 

Raziel was sitting on his throne with his head between his hands, gazing down at the floor with wide eyes. He was thinking about what he was about to do and about what he should have done. At the precise time he raised his head to search for some shred of comfort, the door at the far end of the room opened and in strode two persons. Raziel’s own advisors: Janos and Hoslith Audron. 

Raziel quickly hid his troubled expression under a seemingly impassive face. A mask of stony silence. To his mind, even the closest persons to him could not understand what he was feeling. His attempt at hiding his troubles was not successful however: Janos, whom Raziel considered a father substitute, sensed that something was wrong. He dropped to his knees before his king and anxiously enquired. “Raziel? My child, what is the matter?”  Raziel looked at Janos straight in the eye, took a deep breath and resolved to reveal his troubles to them. He wondered where to begin. After all, tonight’s revelation had not even occurred yet. 

“I fear the things we are about to do, my friends. We now know that in the world there are dark powers bent on destroying the destiny of pure races like ours. We are now certain of this because of all the signs. We know that these dark forces have us in mind. For what reasons they wish us Begone, we do not know. The sole thing we are sure of is that we have to protect our people.”

“This is the true purpose we must leave our lands of origin soon. We must find larger lands, with greater magical capacity. Archipelagonia’s magical energy is weak and does not offer enough protection. Besides, it is time to explore the world. There must be other races out there as well. With a land that offers prospects of protection, we will be safe. The Binding that will seal us and purify us must be carried out, as the Council have been telling us for the past months. Our plans are laid and are almost complete. All we need are the requirements to put them in motion.”

“I know you are already acquainted with all this. So, what is troubling me? I am afraid that the forces we are up against may prove to great for us. There are some gaping holes in our plans, of which the damned dark lords may take advantage. What if the Binding I foretold proves our undoing? Perhaps it was an error to leave the majority of the population unaware of the real situation.”

During all this, Janos and Hoslith stood silent, weighing every word young Raziel said. However, at the last phrase Hoslith spoke for the first time in his deep, calm and soothing voice. 
 

“Do not fear. Our strategy is almost perfect, but you cannot stop yourself from worrying. We understand you. If we do everything accordingly, nothing disastrous will happen. You have our word. Our race will yet live.” 

Raziel managed a weak sort of smile and got to his feet, feeling reassured. 

As soon as Janos and Hoslith had gone out to the courtyard to prepare, he took to pacing around the room. He was already wearing his battle-armour and shed his royal weapons, belted at his hips. He regained his composure, remembering that the people trusted him and that it would not do for them to see their king in this pitiful state.

Janos opened the door a few moments afterwards and announced that the people were all assembled in the yard, waiting for Raziel to deliver his speech. Taking a deep breath, Raziel followed outside. He could tell that even Janos was tense. Silence fell as soon as they stepped on the platform. 

Just before he started talking he caught a glimpse of Janos’ expression, warning him not to give anything away. Forcing himself to remember that knowing the truth would cause panic in the people, he made an encouraging short speech instead. He concluded by saying, “because of today our futures and of our children will be assured.”  However, in spite of his advisors’ warnings, he could not resist the temptation to give a hint, however small. Once again taking a deep breath he said, “The Binded must be saved and The Binding carried out for our own good.” Without even daring to look at Janos, Raziel swept upwards, feeling sure that he had done the right thing. 

After a while, Hoslith and his son caught up with the king. Just a glance at Meckiel told Raziel all he needed to know. That man had taken his clue about the Binding. He was great, like his father. 

Raziel looked at Hoslith. His expression was grim, like his own. After all he was one of the few who knew the truth. 

Several hours of weary and uneventful flying crept slowly by. There was absolutely no change in the ocean beneath. As dawn crept closer, several of the weaker were complaining of tiredness and even Raziel was beginning to feel the hostility mounding up. If land did not show up soon, there was bound to have trouble. Many of which had a trace of Wise blood in their veins were forced to resort to their transformations to keep going. The King was beginning to lose hope when the dawn arrived. The sun rose directly in front of them: they were still flying due east. 

There, silhouetted against the horizon stood land. A land much larger than Aveholt. The dream of all the people comes true at last-

Desperate to keep his men’s moral up, Raziel cried for a last effort to reach the land. He swept towards the land closely followed by those who were to the limit of their force. 

Not many heard Hoslith’s shouts of “HALT! DO NOT MAKE YOUR PRESENCE CLEAR!” and those who did hear him did not care and followed their king faithfully.

It was all in vain. There was only one thing to do – Hoslith was forced to stand up against his own king. Stopping in midair, he expanded the magical energy in his body and transformed once again.  In a matter of seconds he had passed over the whole of the speeding group without them realizing it and stopped sharply in front of Raziel, his arms thrown out in front of him. Instantly the force of the slowing spell Hoslith had cast forced everyone to a stop. 

Raziel glared at Hoslith angrily, instantly realizing that there was more to Hoslith then met the eye, and suddenly doubting his loyalty.

“Why did you stop us, Hoslith? You know as well as I do that many are weak and need rest!” Raziel told him, maddened by Hoslith calm appearance. Hoslith waited until the young King had calmed down and than reminded everyone that caution was needed. Had they continued they would have risked the 
Inhabitants noticing them and starting a fight too soon. 

The whole group, which numbered around six hundred men, landed cautiously in a rocky bay, which led up to a forest. There were two warships in the small harbour already. 

Instantly Raziel shoved a spear into the ground and claimed the land. He sensed that there was only a small presence of people on the whole body of land. He also knew that they weren’t of an Ancient Race. He quickly informed the rest of the council about this while the people were busy building tents. The decision was to send a group of ambassadors. 

Raziel reckoned that the strange race were only a hundred fifty in number and weren’t very skilled warriors, but fine weapon makers.

That evening saw a group of almost three dozen Ancients ride through the wood towards the unknown presence. Soon, they came to a clearing and beheld the strangest people in their whole life. They were roughly like Ancients but held nothing of the glory and pride of the race. They were not gifted with wings and were of a strange dirty – like pale colour. Raziel was meeting the humans for the first time. There were about forty in the clearing. They too were exploring the world. It was clear that they thought they were being attacked by demons and did not understand their tongue. 

Raziel instructed one of his men to put a gift in the middle; the accepted method in Ancient culture to start negotiations with an unknown race.  This was the wrong thing to do. 

The humans retreated back a few yards and started arguing with each other, leaving some with their bows trained on the Ancients. They felt seemingly humiliated and suddenly charged in disorder. The Ancients were caught by surprise but managed to fly up in time. Spears, arrows and cries of sheer anger followed the group upwards. 

Hovering out of reach, Raziel surveyed the angry group beneath him. They had asked for it. To his eyes, the battle was decided before it even began.

He ordered a counter attack. 

At Raziel’s signal, the Wise transformed and immediately sent summons of magical energy downwards to deter the archers. Swords clashed as soon as the Ancients dropped down to the ground. The humans’ manoeuvres and combat techniques however were basically clumsy and were easily repelled, forcing them to defensive postures. Few were more agile and won against those who were not of Wise blood.

The skirmish soon came to a rapid conclusion and corpses began to litter the clearing, most of them human. Three fell quickly under Raziel’s curved blades. The humans soon realized their inferiority in battle and began to retreat. Many surrendered without a fight in order to spare their own life.

Janos came face to face with the human leader, and during the duel learned his opponent’s name and origin. General Marktiud of Haignids proved to be a berserker: much stronger then the rest of his comrades.  The two continued their battle long after the rest had stopped. 

The fight was dazzling and many hovered uncertainly on the spot, unsure of what to do. The few surviving humans were pinioned under the Ancients and Janos’ comrades couldn’t offer any help. 

Raziel was very confident in his advisor’s fighting ability and stood with a smile on his handsome face, waiting to enjoy the duel’s certain outcome. 

Feigning a wild thrust, Janos ducked low and sidestepped his adversary, who had been prepared to parry the attack.

Janos started a sideways roll, ready to come at his opponents back. When he had regained his balance he was amazed to find the human still countering his every attack. 

Marktiud twirled round and brought his weapon in line with Janos’ face. Janos smirked at the slowness of the attack and easily repelled it, by dropping to his back and kicking out with both feet in the stomach. The human staggered, caught Janos by the ankle and swung him round and heaved him away. 

Janos flipped in the air and charged back in a flash. Steel rang on steel until it became one synchronized dance of death. All watched in awe at the battle raging between the two masters of the blade. 

One high cut was swung harmlessly wide; one double cross, and a downward slash were countered easily by Janos, who turned around and came down with both blades in a diagonal position, leaving two fine lines of blood on Marktiud’s arm. The human rolled backwards and then suddenly changed momentum to lunge forward with his sabre in both hands and high above his head. Janos crossed both his blades and crouched low, ready to jump if the too furious charge turned out to be nothing but another feint. 

It was not.

The sheer brute strength the enraged human possessed made Janos buckle on his feet behind his blades. Marktiud pressed on, forcing Janos’ defences high and then suddenly countering 
with a double low chop. Janos side-flipped, was nicked on the shoulder but managed to evade the fatal blow. 

Slamming down on his feet and using his cloak as a cover, Janos threw two small daggers at Marktiud, who caught them in his shield and lunged a heavy mace as a response. Janos easily caught it and swung it back in to catch the man in the ribs, but by doing so sacrificed his left flank to a painful hit from Marktiud’s blade. 

The bitter enemies twirled their blades and both back-flipped to evade each other’s next attack. Coming to a stop, both fighters regarded each other carefully and circled around in the clearing.

One Ancient sent an arrow whizzing towards Marktiud. Janos stopped it with a spell and ordered every one to stay back and not to interfere. Raziel understood. This had become a personal challenge for Janos and Marktiud only.

Marktiud straightened and made a step back, suddenly changing tactics and pace of the fight.

He suddenly leaped up high and turned forwards in the air, coming down at Janos with all his might behind the blow, but lowering his defences to open Janos a window of opportunity to put a stop to the fight. Calling to his inner nature, Janos slowed his adversary in midair, and sent him sprawling some thirty feet away. 

In a flash, Janos glided low to the ground and finished with a dazzling double cut offence routine, which left the invader helpless on his knees and sporting several serious wounds.

Janos slowly put one of his blades at Marktiud’s exposed throat. Marktiud cried for mercy and Janos stayed his hand for a moment to shift his feet and look towards Raziel. The Ancients were excellent and accurate warriors and enjoyed a good swordfight - but they hated unnecessary bloodshed. This time it had been impossible to spare too much lives.

Raziel nodded his assent for the kill. To his eyes, this man had almost bested Janos in battle, and had it not been for the magical abilities his advisor possessed, Janos would have been sorely pressed. No, this man was too dangerous to live. It would be an example for the rest of his race.

Janos smiled sadly and grimly. His arms raised high, Marktiud cried for mercy for the last time, and it was over in a flash. 

The slender sword and dagger met and crossed, leaving a perfect X on the berserker’s neck. Marktiud lay gasping for some moments, trying to deny his fate. But death can never be defied…

Raziel let the rest of the survivors flee back to Haignids and tell the rest of race to never come near again. More men were called from the camp to scour the woods. Soon, the remaining humans of the original hundred and fifty were caught or defeated if they put up resistance. They were escorted back to their ships, hatred for the Ancients growing silently in their hearts every second. 

When they arrived back at their lands, it became a common custom in fact to call the rightful owners of Nosgoth – Vampires, meaning ‘The Damned Ones’ in the human tongue of that time. They swore to return and claim vengeance. Someday that word would be both a blessing and a curse.

As soon as the enemies departed on their ships, Hoslith walked up to Raziel standing on the cliff, facing the rising sun and asked, “Now that this land is totally ours, have you found out its name?”

Raziel smiled and nodded. He turned to the rest of the six hundred and cried, “Behold! Nosgoth is revealed!”

It is now almost three years from the time that the present King of Nosgoth raised his Palace at Aveholt city. Much has happened in that time, while much is still to happen. Not many are aware of the perils that are coming closer every day. 

I sometimes wonder if I have made the right choice in betraying my race and joining the Ancients. If they ever find me I will pay with my life. I was preordained to become Seer after my mother. It was a dark time for me. 

The rest of the Hylden were rapidly changing from the kindly and wise people we were once to deformed cruel monsters. I did not know what was happening and I was forced to go along acting like a kind of dumb creature. With my own eyes I witnessed our leaders opening a vortex and creating unspeakable horrors: undead demons strong and merciless to do their bidding. It was not long, however, before I discovered what was going on. One of the three Dark Lords had taken control over my race. I had somehow escaped his clutches. 

I left the land I had grown up in soon after my discovery. It was after many months of hopeless sailing in my frail craft that I came to Nosgoth.

I was found unconscious on a beach at the south of the land, and was revived and taken in front of the king to explain my presence. I felt afraid, surrounded by these strange blue creatures, but I soon learnt they meant no harm. Translating my tongue took a while, but it was managed.

I told the King what had happened to my race and how I had escaped.  Raziel discovered that I had a trace of Ancient blood in me, from my father which I never met, which enabled me to hold longer then the rest of my race before falling under the first Dark Lord’s control. That was why I 
looked so different from the rest of the Hylden. I agreed to become Nosgoth Seer, and to make prophecies to the king and help him to protect Nosgoth.

In the years I have been here, I have learnt many things. The Ancients discovered Nosgoth three years ago and had soon moved from their land of origin to live in the greatest continent of the whole World. In fact, I have discovered that Nosgoth is the largest body of land with the greatest amount of magical energy. It is in the centre of the planet, where the magical forces meet at a strategic point. 

Many races would like to take control of it. However, Nosgoth’s natural forces can easily be disturbed.  It offers great protection to its inhabitants from dark forces only if the magical energy is correctly manned. 

If my race had come to live here too, they might have been saved. The Ancients have prolonged their freedom, but if they are not careful they might come to the same dark fate. 

I have made three prophecies in all that concern the Ancients and their destiny. Not many will learn what they are. The cities and villages that used to be in Archipelagonia are now in Nosgoth and the Ancients have adopted the same ruling system they used there. The females and children had to come in ships because many are not able to fly. Meanwhile, Raziel and his council have continued a never-ending campaign of protection for Nosgoth. They may have left me out of it, but I know every thing that they have in mind. 

Perhaps they do not trust me for what I am. I am not all knowing, but I have great wisdom. 

I am bound by the laws of the Seers and cannot reveal much before the right time comes. When Raziel reads the Prophecies, it may be too late to fulfil them. Although I made the Prophecies, I don’t know what they exactly mean. My skill in seeing the Truth is not unfailing, like all other gifts. 

This is the first prophecy. As far as I know, and can tell, it will not be fulfilled for much longer. My powers cannot tell much more about this supposed Messiah, and I hope that Nosgoth’s fate will be sealed in a good way. I think that the second Prophecy has already been fulfilled. It concerns the creation of Raziel’s royal weapon – The Blood Reaver. Perhaps the reference to ‘the One’ means the Messiah mentioned in the first prophecy.

However, I can tell that the Weapon of Salvation is the Reaver, the weapon the leader of the Seroili smiths forged for us in gratitude for our intervening in the Middle War against the demon fiends ravaging their land. It is imbued with dark vampiric energy and can drain its victims of their lifeblood. At the moment, it is used as the royal sword but when the time comes, Raziel will realize the truth.

The Council and Raziel have already built the important Forging Temples mentioned as part of the protection of Nosgoth – completing this prophecy without even realizing it. Little does he know what important repercussion today’s actions will trigger in the future. The third prophecy concerns the most important moment in this world’s age. 

The First Binding with the Pillars, which won’t be erected until a year and a day from now pass. 

Although this may seem the most ambiguous prophecy of the all for many, I understand much about this event and its importance. Nosgoth’s branch of white magic is centred at a specific point in the land. If the magic is correctly manned with the Pillars, a protective barrier will seal Nosgoth against any dark attacks – keeping the balance of the whole world steady unlike it is at the moment. Many may think this as a time of peace but in reality the world is slipping down towards chaos under the influence of the three, mostly unknown, dark lords. Even amongst the Ancients, there are cowardly traitors. 

My never-ending fear; is this world ever beyond redemption?

When I roll this sheaf of parchment and rise up, I will be ready to face my destiny. The moments in time which will decide the fate of the all the planes of existence. I know my people approach, getting closer everyday, and I am ready.

The Final Prophecy has not yet been made yet. It may be our only hope.

The first three prophecies were made without the council’s prior knowledge. In those four years before the invasion of the dark forces who perverted Nosgoth to their will, all seemed to be going well. However, when the time came, the sacrifice had to made.
War erupted and our plans were put to test. It was one of the darkest times in all of my life.

We three: Raziel, Janos and I wrote the final chapter of the history of our race not in ink and words- but in blood. We have sacrificed our life for the land’s power. I sadly smile to the truth behind these written words.

Audron. That name prides and distinguishes me, but it also damns me to an undeniable fate. It is a blessing my family knows nothing of the path I have chosen, yet. Today is the 69th month, the perfect number for us- from the day our direct conflict with the dark lords began. 

Today I will sacrifice myself like Raziel did. Today we will win.

We had moved to Nosgoth to preserve the balance of the world and protect our people; but all we did was postpone the moment when chaos would be unleashed.

In fact the paradox is precisely that – we never revealed Nosgoth but only its powers. That proved to be our undoing – failing to understand this land and its magical emanations.

We did not fail totally, and there is still some hope that balance will prevail for us. In order for that to happen as Raziel sacrificed himself for the Reaver, I must sacrifice my soul to the Pillar of Balance, which I guard. Only then the Hylden and the darkness will be defeated. The people hope the final prophecy that is being summoned at the very moment on the battlefield where our Armies’ march, will save us – but the council knows it is a futile attempt. Right now I am in charge of the protection of the weak – but my time in battle will soon come.

I leave Mirgatactida and Arcanza, my blades, in the hands of Meckiel – my oldest son and next king of Nosgoth. With Heartgaze as his queen, I know that Nosgoth will be in fine hands. Janos- I charge you once again with the protection of the Reaver; as I did that day when the Pillars where raised. The Weapon of Salvation; how many lives will it sacrifice to achieve the perfect state?
 
 

When Nosgoth was revealed I never dreamt all this would happen. 
I look sadly at this finished document made of the writings that my most trusted friends and allies wrote many centuries ago, foolishly thinking that things might have turned out differently if the king had read them all, for they revealed much that could have saved Nosgoth. 

History can rarely be altered and I must accept the truth. All my hope now lies in my faith in the final prophecy. Perhaps my own salvation is close. 

Two of the dark lords were defeated and enslaved during the Great War, but evil remains in the form of the last one.

Looking at the blade, the reaver, I have sworn to protect with my life, I can find the force to hold on and force myself to exist. How far will my patience be tested? My soul tormented? Will the darkness ever be defeated? 

Birth of the Scion… when will the final prophecy take place? The First Binding with the Pillars was our only hope to protect our beliefs. 

Do not defy your destinies.