Prologue

The captive villagers staggered before the great, black wolf.

Behind them, it stood larger than a house, with glowing golden eyes. The Fenris wolf howled at the scarlet moon, which was the only one of the three moons above in its full glow that night.

On either side of the captives stood countless monstrous creatures. Some looked like men with wings, horns, and hooves. Others like boars that walked upright as men do. All of them held in their hands weapons soaked in the blood of those who’d been so foolish as to stand and fight.

Before the captives stood two dark figures. One had light blue skin, two white horns rising from his forehead, and wore dark robes. The other had ashen-colored skin, two horns, though one was broken in half, and black, feathered wings extending from his back. He wore no shirt, and a long, black kilt covered his legs. At his side hovered a tome, with a silver glow on the edges of every page.

The feathered demon’s burning red eyes scoured the crowd. A scowl held fast to his black lips, and his nose curled in disgust. “Mortals,” he spoke. His voice was deep, but there was a high-pitched echo behind it. “I am called Malkira, King of the Obsidian Mountains and the Perdition Demon Clan.” He gestured to the demon with white horns before him. “This is my son, Prince Ra-Gadol. I am training him to one day inherit my blood-stained throne from me, so tonight he will decide your fate.”

A cruel smile crossed the younger demon’s lips, and his fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword. “Father, if I’m being honest, I see little reason to let any of them live. From what I’ve heard, they’ve been begging the gods to intervene and save them since we took them from the village.” Ra-Gadol wagged a finger at the villagers, who flinched and backed away from him. “How rude of you to pray for angels to swoop in and kill us all.”

Malkira hissed at Ra-Gadol and spoke in a language none of the humans understood. Ra-Gadol hung his head and hunched his shoulders. He cowered away from his father and whispered something back.

Malkira folded his arms. “Now, try again.”

“Yes, Father.” Ra-Gadol straightened his shoulders and wagged his head side to side. “Humans! You have exactly ten seconds to give me a reason I shouldn’t slaughter all of you.”

“To Hell with you, demon!” shouted one man from the crowd.

Ra-Gadol’s eyes narrowed to slits. He turned to one of the demons standing off to the side and gestured to the defiant man with his head.

A flash of something metallic, and the villagers screamed as their brave friend collapsed in a bloody pool.

Malkira shook his head.

Ra-Gadol smirked, but bit the corners of his own mouth to force his sadistic glee back into hiding.

A moment passed, and Malkira said, “Proceed.”

Ra-Gadol nodded to his father and wrung his hands. “Is there anyone else who wants to take the hero’s way out?”

None of the villagers breathed a word.

“Good,” said Ra-Gadol, his voice distant and cold. “Then, here is my judgment. The children will be sold into slavery, the young women shall be taken as concubines, the young men shall be sent off to the adonium mines, and the elders shall be put to the sword.”

“Wait!” a voice cried out from the crowd.

“My judgment is final!” Ra-Gadol hissed.

Malkira’s talon-like fingers crept over his heir’s shoulder. “Peace, my boy. Just for a moment. It would be wise to hear what this brave ambassador has to say.”

Ra-Gadol shivered at the demon king’s touch. “Yes, Father. Whomever you are, step forward and plead your case!”

The villagers parted, and there walked forward from among them a young man with a shaven head. He was dressed in sack-cloth and wore shackles on his hands and feet. But the most prominent feature to catch both Ra-Gadol and Malkira’s attentions was a burn scar on his forehead in the shape of an eye.

“A seer…” Malkira said in barely enough breath.

Prince Ra-Gadol chuckled. “So, these fools locked you up and branded you for fortune-telling, did they?”

“I have seen the future.” The bald man nodded. “Sometimes I merely see the next moment, sometimes the next day, and some things have yet to happen.”

“A useful skill,” said Ra-Gadol. “I’m assuming you’re offering to tell me the future, but for a price?”

“I’ll tell you every vision I’ve ever had,” said the bald man. “I’ll even serve as your personal prophet for as long as I live. Just let the women, children, and elderly go.”

Ra-Gadol snickered. “You’re not going to negotiate for the young men too?”

The bald seer forced a smirk. “I know when to cut my losses. You don’t really care about what paltry profits you could get from selling the children, do you? Or a tumble with a human concubine?” The seer’s eyes met Ra-Gadol’s. Something in that look caused the demon prince to recoil and tremble. “No, what you really want, the reason you attacked our village, was for a labor force to dig up more adonium for you. That’s all that really matters, the god’s-blood deep under the ground which will grant you power.”

Ra-Gadol shook his head and looked away from the seer’s eyes. His head trembled a second time, he chuckled, and then shrugged. “Everyone wants the power adonium offers. But wealth? And half-human children a generation from now? Those have their uses too.” Ra-Gadol’s eyes wandered, and found their way back to the seer’s scar, just above his furrowed brow and those piercing, black eyes. “What makes you think your visions are the better offer?”

“I have seen the death of the gods,” said the bald seer. “They are not gods at all. Their blood is just as red as mine.”

The villagers threw themselves as far away from the seer as they could. Each of them shrieked as they fell into the arms of their captors, who were perplexed that these humans were more afraid of this seer’s words than the demons with blood-soaked arms.

Ra-Gadol ducked his head low and looked up at the sky with fear in his eyes.

Malkira’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at the seer.

The seer met Malkira’s gaze with the same fearlessness he’d held before speaking of his most world-altering prophecy. “Such blatant blasphemy,” said Malkira, “And yet, here you stand. The gods have not turned you into a pillar of salt, neither have they sent their angels to cut out your tongue.” Malkira gestured with one claw at the pale moon, which was but a crescent in the sky, and all but hidden behind its scarlet sister. “Clearly, the gods are not all-knowing. You have my attention.”

The seer stepped forward, and Ra-Gadol scrambled out of his way.

“I can tell you more,” said the seer. “And I can show you the way. You can steer destiny to ensure the apocalypse I have seen will come to pass. Because of your actions, the gods you’ve hated your whole life will be exposed as liars, and then they will die. They will call the age that follows ‘The Third Genesis.’”

“’The Third Genesis?’” Malkira’s eyes flew wide as he repeated the seer’s words. “I have heard of this prophecy before. Countless seers have died for speaking of it.”

“I have seen what causes The Third Genesis,” said the seer. A proud smile had found its way to his lips.

Malkira stared at him. One hand rose up to his chin, and he scratched with the claw of his index finger. “And you want to use this prophecy to barter for the lives of the people who locked you up? And branded you?”

“That was mostly the young men’s doing,” said the seer. “Only a handful of the elders were involved.”

“Point them out.” Malkira’s index finger gestured to the villagers. “And I will slay those who were involved for you.”

The seer shook his head. “They only did what they did because their gods command that all seers be branded and imprisoned. I can’t hold that against them.”

Malkira stroked his chin again. “Interesting… so, you really are bartering for the lives of those who hurt you.”

“Do we have a deal or not?” the seer pressed.

Ra-Gadol stood tall. “'The Third Genesis’ is a myth. A lie made up by heretics telling their demon captors whatever they wanted to hear.” Ra-Gadol waved a dismissive hand. “It’s a fantasy! Not even worth—”

“Silence!” Malkira roared. Every torch was extinguished, and the moons disappeared from view. In an instant, it was totally black all around, and the only audible sound in that darkness was Malkira’s breath. His red eyes appeared in the dark. “Seer,” Malkira spoke. “I agree to your bargain. You will tell me of The Third Genesis, and I will spare the children, women, and elders of your village. Furthermore, I will bind you as a brother to me, and you will have my protection for as long as I live.”

A breeze blew through, carrying a deathly chill with it.

A silver glow in the dark.

The book from Malkira’s side floated forward. Its gleaming pages folded open, and the symbols from within hung in the air above it, as bright as stars.

Malkira continued, “But I insist that such a contract be signed with blood. Not your blood, but the blood of a mutual enemy. ‘For the blood of my enemy shall make a stranger my brother.’ This is what Sygin taught my people long ago. So, you will choose one of the young men to die.”

In an instant, the darkness faded. The torches re-lit themselves, the moons glowed in the sky once more, and the bald seer stared at the group of villagers, who stared back with terror in their eyes.

Only a moment passed before the seer pointed at a young man with long, red hair and olive-colored skin. “That one. Dallan.”

The villagers screamed and fled from Dallan’s side. The young man tried to run, but demons rushed in to surround him. In moments, each had a sword point against his body.

Malkira held the open book in one hand while his other pointed at the condemned. “Goodbye, Dallan. May Seth’s scales judge you righteous.”

A flash.

A bolt of lightning struck Dallan.

Followed by a burst of thunder which threw the villagers to their knees.

Where Dallan once stood was now a scorched mass of cinder and bones.

Malkira stepped forward and placed a hand on the seer’s shoulder. “No doubt you have a human name. It no longer matters. From now on, you shall be as a brother to me, and we will know you as Moloch, for that was my brother’s name before angels took his life.”

Ra-Gadol snuck a furious glance at his father behind the demon king’s back.

“So let it be,” said the seer with a nod.

Malkira turned to his warriors and waved his hand. “Let everyone go except the young men.”

The villagers made to flee, but the demons seized them by their arms and threw them back into the middle. One demon called out, “Have the men no honor?”

“Let the innocent go,” called another demon. “Your wives, children, and parents shall live.”

“Your freedom should be a small price for such reward!”

Malkira wrapped an arm around the seer’s shoulder and walked him away from the group. The enormous black wolf followed. “Now,” said Malkira, “My brother. Tell me more about this apocalypse.”