PROLOGUE
The Darkness
It was quite ironic, really. Though the window for Samuel's escape was rapidly closing, the mouse remained yet unaware as he finished his last entry in the book. He had been Redwall's historian since his late childhood, and had an unparalleled dedication to his work.
"Hurry, Samuel! Our time becomes scant!" Skell, Samuel's apprentice, grated through gritted teeth. He chanced a glance down the hall. Still empty, but the clamor was rising and increasing in proximity.
"This cannot be rushed, Skell! Has your weasel-mind forgotten the importance of this? The story of Redwall must not be forgotten! The world must never forget of Brann PeaceMaker, or of the hard-earned kinship of vermin and woodland folk alike!"
It was true. Though Redwall was ancient beyond any remembrance, it was only in the last few generations that peace had come to the region. There was a great calm from Salamandastron to Redwall, and all worked peacefully hand-in-hand to continued prosperity. This was because of the great working of Brann PeaceMaker, who led the vermin to friendship with Redwall. There were many years of joy, celebrations, and happiness. Because of this, there was no need to continue war, and all weapons and defenses were eliminated. Then the darkness came.
First, before the annual harvest, the sun had gone dark. No cloud had passed in front of it, nor did it disappear. It simply went from a jovial golden hue to black. The crops died unexpectedly, and only torches kept Redwall alight. Scouts were sent to investigate surrounding areas, but never returned. It was as if the darkness simply consumed them. During all of this, the darkness seemed to intensify. It became more tangible, until it was seeping out of every pore of existence and appeared even to push back the torch-light.
After a week of this insanity, a stranger paid a visit to the front-gate. Swiftly, Abbot Syle greeted this stranger, who named himself Kratlin. He bore the form of no woodland creature or vermin; he simply hovered, a sinister black mass enshrouded in a cloud of darkness, with two intense scarlet eyes burning in him. He offered swift death to all of the Redwallers if they were to surrender.
Being unaware of the pending doom, Syle refused Kratlin, and left him alone at the gate. Instead of shouting back, Kratlin simply retreated into the woods, those eyes burning hungrily at Redwall.
Almost without pause, a mass of creatures rushed with uncanny speed out of the woods at Redwall. Like Kratlin, they bore no normal form, but unlike him, they were solid. They were black, sleek, gremlin like creatures that moved soundlessly. They bore black spears, and rushed in a tight, black formation from all directions. No end of them could be seen.
Or was seen. This was three days earlier, and their attack had not let up. They seemed lifeless, as if they were the teeth of the darkness. All were ordered to their rooms with rations, and a strong few were ordered to defense. They defended valiantly with what they had: pitchforks, kitchen knives, hatchets and whatever they had available.
The first day Samuel could hear cries of women and children, in fear and hope of a call to leave the rooms. That call never came.
The screams and crying ended the second day, and Samuel and Skell remained in the last vestiges of Redwall, and were perhaps the only ones who remained. As the clamor approached, it sounded like even that was coming to an end. Neither had time to mourn, they could only focus on what they had to accomplish. It had yet to register in their minds that after all these generations, Redwall had fallen.
"SAMUEL! WE MUST GO NOW!!!" Skell had barricaded the door. The noise of struggle had ended. It now would only be a matter of time before they were found. And after that, only the tunnel entrance would protect their escape east underground.
Samuel no longer responded. He had been writing as fast as his withered paws would let him. He had almost finished his entry, only a little longer...
"Listen. I don't want to have to drag you ou—'' He was cut short as a deafening blow struck the door. They had been found. Skell was stunned speechless. The hinges creaked under the force, and faint splinters had already appeared. A few more of those and the door would splinter into oblivion.
Another massive thump sprung Skell to reality. He noticed Samuel was out of his chair, and the book was closed on his desk. At a glance around the chamber, he saw him opening the tunnel door for escape.
"Thank goodness you finished, Samuel. Now your old bones better remember how to run if we are to escape!" His surprise sunk immediately when Skell noticed Samuel was bearing a scythe, and was handing him the entry book.
"Go, Skell. I will keep them at bay as long as my breath lasts." Samuel's eyes burned with an irrefutable fire, and he would not be denied.
"Samuel... No... You can't!" Skell could not believe what his ears and eyes told him. His vision blurred with tears.
"Skell, you must go now to preserve our tale! It is all up to you! The fate of all our work rests upon your shoulders!"
The weasel could not refuse this urgency. He knew its truth, and had no choice. Tears pouring, he ran down the tunnel while Samuel shut and barricaded the door. As the door faded into the distance, he heard a final battle cry come from Samuel, as he fought with every last reserve for Redwall's story. While he ran with all abandon, the last discernable noise he made out was one soul-rending scream.
Chapter 2 by 7/31
The Darkness
It was quite ironic, really. Though the window for Samuel's escape was rapidly closing, the mouse remained yet unaware as he finished his last entry in the book. He had been Redwall's historian since his late childhood, and had an unparalleled dedication to his work.
"Hurry, Samuel! Our time becomes scant!" Skell, Samuel's apprentice, grated through gritted teeth. He chanced a glance down the hall. Still empty, but the clamor was rising and increasing in proximity.
"This cannot be rushed, Skell! Has your weasel-mind forgotten the importance of this? The story of Redwall must not be forgotten! The world must never forget of Brann PeaceMaker, or of the hard-earned kinship of vermin and woodland folk alike!"
It was true. Though Redwall was ancient beyond any remembrance, it was only in the last few generations that peace had come to the region. There was a great calm from Salamandastron to Redwall, and all worked peacefully hand-in-hand to continued prosperity. This was because of the great working of Brann PeaceMaker, who led the vermin to friendship with Redwall. There were many years of joy, celebrations, and happiness. Because of this, there was no need to continue war, and all weapons and defenses were eliminated. Then the darkness came.
First, before the annual harvest, the sun had gone dark. No cloud had passed in front of it, nor did it disappear. It simply went from a jovial golden hue to black. The crops died unexpectedly, and only torches kept Redwall alight. Scouts were sent to investigate surrounding areas, but never returned. It was as if the darkness simply consumed them. During all of this, the darkness seemed to intensify. It became more tangible, until it was seeping out of every pore of existence and appeared even to push back the torch-light.
After a week of this insanity, a stranger paid a visit to the front-gate. Swiftly, Abbot Syle greeted this stranger, who named himself Kratlin. He bore the form of no woodland creature or vermin; he simply hovered, a sinister black mass enshrouded in a cloud of darkness, with two intense scarlet eyes burning in him. He offered swift death to all of the Redwallers if they were to surrender.
Being unaware of the pending doom, Syle refused Kratlin, and left him alone at the gate. Instead of shouting back, Kratlin simply retreated into the woods, those eyes burning hungrily at Redwall.
Almost without pause, a mass of creatures rushed with uncanny speed out of the woods at Redwall. Like Kratlin, they bore no normal form, but unlike him, they were solid. They were black, sleek, gremlin like creatures that moved soundlessly. They bore black spears, and rushed in a tight, black formation from all directions. No end of them could be seen.
Or was seen. This was three days earlier, and their attack had not let up. They seemed lifeless, as if they were the teeth of the darkness. All were ordered to their rooms with rations, and a strong few were ordered to defense. They defended valiantly with what they had: pitchforks, kitchen knives, hatchets and whatever they had available.
The first day Samuel could hear cries of women and children, in fear and hope of a call to leave the rooms. That call never came.
The screams and crying ended the second day, and Samuel and Skell remained in the last vestiges of Redwall, and were perhaps the only ones who remained. As the clamor approached, it sounded like even that was coming to an end. Neither had time to mourn, they could only focus on what they had to accomplish. It had yet to register in their minds that after all these generations, Redwall had fallen.
"SAMUEL! WE MUST GO NOW!!!" Skell had barricaded the door. The noise of struggle had ended. It now would only be a matter of time before they were found. And after that, only the tunnel entrance would protect their escape east underground.
Samuel no longer responded. He had been writing as fast as his withered paws would let him. He had almost finished his entry, only a little longer...
"Listen. I don't want to have to drag you ou—'' He was cut short as a deafening blow struck the door. They had been found. Skell was stunned speechless. The hinges creaked under the force, and faint splinters had already appeared. A few more of those and the door would splinter into oblivion.
Another massive thump sprung Skell to reality. He noticed Samuel was out of his chair, and the book was closed on his desk. At a glance around the chamber, he saw him opening the tunnel door for escape.
"Thank goodness you finished, Samuel. Now your old bones better remember how to run if we are to escape!" His surprise sunk immediately when Skell noticed Samuel was bearing a scythe, and was handing him the entry book.
"Go, Skell. I will keep them at bay as long as my breath lasts." Samuel's eyes burned with an irrefutable fire, and he would not be denied.
"Samuel... No... You can't!" Skell could not believe what his ears and eyes told him. His vision blurred with tears.
"Skell, you must go now to preserve our tale! It is all up to you! The fate of all our work rests upon your shoulders!"
The weasel could not refuse this urgency. He knew its truth, and had no choice. Tears pouring, he ran down the tunnel while Samuel shut and barricaded the door. As the door faded into the distance, he heard a final battle cry come from Samuel, as he fought with every last reserve for Redwall's story. While he ran with all abandon, the last discernable noise he made out was one soul-rending scream.
Chapter 2 by 7/31