Prologue: Land of Confusion.
Adrastos looked up at the night sky and let his mind wander, thinking back to simpler times when the world had seemed much more peaceful and care free. He felt the cold, hard stone of the mountain beneath his back and the icy winds whipping through his loose gown and he felt satisfied. It was an unusual feeling for him, as one of the greatest warriors of his tribe he was under constant pressure to prove himself, to do better and to bend off the advances of those who sought to prove themselves better than he. They never did.
A week back he had been climbing when an earthquake struck. Nothing could have been done about it, nothing could have prevented his fall. He was lucky, he survived with only a broken arm and bruised ribs. It had nearly healed but the tribes leaders weren't about to risk their prize warrior and so he was under instructions to rest.
Suited him fine, he'd never set out to be a warrior. He only wanted to do what was best for his people, for the entire Echidna race. If that meant making use of the strength and skills bestowed upon him by their Gods then that is what he would do.
Slowly, Adrastos sat up and looked downwards. He was sat on a rocky outcrop half-way up the northern mountain range that surrounded their capital city. Below he could see the temple where Chief Pachacamac would rally the troops before a battle, his words whipping them up into a frenzy. In the distance he could see the hillside over which a race known as the Chao were said to guard Emeralds of great power, Emeralds that Pachacamac had insisted were vital to the survival of the tribe.
It was all politics and Adrastos tried to avoid such matters. They weren't for him, all he wished to do was serve his people and be left alone. That's why he went climbing, he was seen as one of the best climbers of the entire tribe, scaling mountains in a matter of seconds. He'd often come to this exact spot to lie back, relax, and forgot all the conflict and pain that seemed to fill the world.
Something caught his eye, in the distance. A glow of red, steadily increasing. It was coming from the direction of the shrine. Had the tribe chosen tonight to cease the Emeralds?
He wouldn't have been surprised. Pachacamac had said it would be a short battle, the creatures that lived there were weak and not build for battle. Perhaps he had chosen now to claim them, Adrastos could not say, he had been away from the others for the entire day, just climbing and thinking.
Still, he wondered why so many fires were necessary against such a supposedly weak opponent. It was standard, of course, burning the homes and lands of the enemy, and whilst it may have been morally questionable, these were times of war. These things happened, and once the countries swore allegiance, the tribe helped them rebuild, protected them. It made sense, if you thought about it.
Adrastos slowly led back down on the stone, to stare back up at the night sky. Too much thinking on politics and not enough contemplation of the stars, he thought. Just as he felt himself start to drift away again he was dragged back to reality but a sound that curdled his blood.
At first he wasn't sure what it was that he had heard but seconds later he heard it again, a echoing roar that reverberated across the land as far as the eye could see. There was something about it that chilled him through to the bone, something inhuman, angered and yet also pain…
That's what scared Adrastos the most. Whatever leviathan was behind that sound it was filled with not just rage but a rage born of pain and anguish. He slowly stood, glancing in the direction of the shrine, suddenly worried about his brothers.
Without warning a bright light exploded up from over the hillside, blinding Adrastos and he staggered as at the same moment the entire world seemed to shake. He lost his footing and toppled backwards over the mountain edge. Refusing to let panic set in for even a moment, Adrastos swing his powerful right fist outward and was fortunate to strike the hard, granite cliff-face. Like the rest of his tribe, his fists sported two bone-like protuberances which sang into the otherwise solid rock with ease. It wasn't enough to stop the momentum but it gave him a split second to swing his legs inwards towards the mountain. His feet hit flat against the side and he bent his knees before, using all his strength, he pushed himself away, spreading his arms out as he did.
He twisted round in the air, spreading his arms out and letting the winds sweep around him. He closed in his eyes and trusted in his ancestors, in the land, in the currents and twists of the very air itself. He caught their currents and felt himself slow, riding the breath of history, the very same air that millennia of his tribes people had breathed. He slid through the air, turning himself on their currents, directing himself back towards the mountain.
Moments later he was fastened securely to the side of the cliff-face, his eyes fully recovering from the blinding flash. After several blinks he looked round, confused, unsure of what had just happened. His eyes widened as he his home beneath him, massive cracks running through several of the buildings. The people were out of their homes, running back and forth in a panic, torches burning to illuminate the night.
Then something else caught his gaze. Out of the corner of his eye something moved, something vast. His mouth widened in uncomprehending shock as he saw a vast wave of water block out the stars behind the southern mountains, tall enough to dwarf their peaks. The people had noticed too, women, children, the old and infirm, all looking up as the wave of water arched over the city, suspended above them.
Adrastos felt fear creep up his spine, a sickening knot twisting in his stomach and chest. He didn't know the what had happened, where this unnatural terror had come from, but he knew what was going to happen next, he knew and could do nothing about it. He watched as, as if in slow motion, the wave suddenly lost it's near-sublime stillness and began to fall towards the ground.
People screamed, the tribe panicked, but there was nothing to be done. Within seconds the entire city was lost beneath the water, buildings smashed to rubble, unrecognisable. And yet the water was not still, it moved, it thrashed with such violence that Adrastos could barely believe his eyes.
He began to climb. One fist after another, he scaled the mountain, seeking as high a ground as he could. It wouldn't help, of course, this thing, whose demonic roar he heard once again, was vast, endless, as deep and as deadly as the great oceans of the world. But he did not know what else to do, what else he could do, other than to flee. To try and survive, to find out what had happened, to find a way to stop it, to get revenge, to make things right.
He climbed, higher and higher, the adrenaline removing any pain he might have felt from his healing arm and the fear pushing him further on. He had no idea what he would do when he reached the top but it dawned on him that he would be able to see the lands and valleys beyond, the countries that had been invaded and brought under the protection of his tribe. Where many more of his people still lived.
He felt sick, he felt exhausted and by the time he reached the top he was unsure as to whether he wanted to look. Swallowing down his fear he stepped up on to the peak of the northern mountains and gazed out across the great Echidna Empire.
Deep down inside himself, Adrastos felt something whither and die and, as the tears refused to come, something malignant began to grow in its place, decaying his heart to dust and festering in his soul…