Death Smith - Book 2 - Chapter 0

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Prologue

Late February, 14 AR.

East Bulgaria.

Fire fought against the cold night sky, sending sparks of heat into the air, only to dissipate afterwards. A smell lingered at the Rift site that evening, carrying the scent of burning plastic, wood, and the unmistakable hint of freshly spilt blood. The once secure and well-maintained site had been overrun and ravaged within a matter of minutes. The sudden appearance of cloaked figures, stepping out of the Rift, had taken both site personnel and Rifters by surprise.

Confusion and shock had played a role, but the sheer difference in strength had decided the fight the moment these intruders had arrived. The Rifters had only lasted a few seconds against them, despite utilizing modern weaponry. Both high-calibre bullets and shrapnel barely seemed to slow them down, if the Rifters even hit them. A single Rifter was all that survived the sudden onslaught, desperately applying pressure on her stomach as she bled out into the dirt. A cloaked stranger stood next to her, watching her gradually die. There wasn’t hatred in his eyes as he watched the Rifter, his features calm and composed.

“It will end soon, youngling,” the stranger said, his voice both masculine and almost regal. He gently placed his hand on the Rifter’s. Four fingers held her hand as he steered it away from her wound, hastening her fate. “Ease into it,” he said, watching the colour disappear from her features before she grew still, her eyes unfocused.

‘We all end the same,’ the stranger thought as he watched her a while longer, memorising the female Rifter before his cloaked companions joined him, signalling that it was time. The stranger led them back near the Rift, where a smaller figure sat on the ground. Warped energy flowed from the kneeling figure, sending both dirt and wind upwards, tossing the hood backwards to reveal her features. He recognised himself in her, having shared more than just blood since birth. Both carried a duty, an oath, to their people.

“I… found it,” she said between gasps. Exhaustion and pain had ravaged her body as she had woven more of herself throughout the process, strengthening her connection with her surroundings until it finally stopped. It was the price a seer had to pay to read the flow of fate itself. Pebbles and dirt fell downwards as she felt her strength leave her. Gravity forced the seer onto her hands and knees. “It is here. The catalyst of their demise…” She told him, panting, eyes wide from fear and disgust. “I felt its destruction, the sheer brutality of it… Heard the echo of countless souls lost in a single moment. These people here… they… they do not know what they have built,” she explained as she forced herself upright, supported by him at that moment.

The stranger held her as he watched his companions approach him. His gaze fell on each of them, strengthening their bond and their conviction. They all knew what was at stake here. It was the reason they had followed him for all these years. Nine souls stood united in the centre of this carnage, bound by a common goal. Then, with seven words, he would set something in motion that would change fate itself.

“The Seer has spoken. Find the weapon.”

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Author: Osirium

Copyright: 2022 OsiriumWrites

Released: 2022