Soul's Reckoning

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It must be an old world, I think. Our recorded history goes back many millennia, but that isn’t why I arrive at such a conclusion. It is more that our knowledge grows fragmentary in the distance, then drops away into nothing, like an undersea cliff. There are no clues as to how much further it goes, and no beginning in sight. Perhaps no beginning exists, just ages that follow one after the other. Perhaps the age we inhabit now will become an unknown abyss to those in the next. I do not know.

I suppose I do not care. What is remarkable is to stand on the cusp of a new age forming, one foot in the past and one in the future. It almost seems as if change could be instant, forgetful of the centuries that precede it, the years spent building to such a point, the months of strife and struggle …and now, only days.

Time to break into a run.

Bel parted fern fronds with the tip of his sword, managing to avoid the slightest rustling. Ahead a Black Goblin crouched behind the brush, taking in the two hundred or so soldiers camped between the trees – those who had survived the ill-fated charge against Holdwith. The failure still grated on him, and he pushed away memories of Olakanzar being torn from the sky, of Kainordans dying around him. Perhaps he had been too eager to attack, but how could he have guessed that such a monster would be waiting for them?

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