Prologue:
The Book Of The Summoners.
Before the fall of Madain Sari, there was a great city. The Race of the summoners were superior to all, their knowledge was unbounded. Among their numbers, there were few who had the gift of foresight. But as with all who bear this gift and burden, they only knew what came to them. They could not necessarily interpret what the stars sent. So, to leave to task to the great scholars who would come after them, their scribes bound a great book, with gilded pages, and bound with the finest gold. The craftsmanship was unsurpassed by any which had come before, or would come again. And the purpose of this book was the preservation of the dreams of truth, so that further generations could benefit from the knowledge of their ancestors. The seers gathered to the great library, the place of the scribes, and one by one, recited their prophecy. They ranged from the young to the old, the athletic to the infirm. But all were women. The task took years, and the scribes devoted much time to the perfect inscriptions. And when the task was complete, the book was placed on a pedestal, for the inscription of the future dreams. The prophecies in the book were diverse, ranging from the mundane to the indecipherable. But one stood out greatly, as it was among the ones that did not make sense. But it was recited to the mother of a small girl, as her daughter was dying of a fever. The girl had never spoken before, and would never speak again. But in the last moments of her short life, she dreamed. Gripped by the fever, the gift rose within her, and she was gripped by a fit. A strange voice emitted from her lips, one that was clarion clear, and not that of a small dying girl. And this voice proclaimed to all a message which none could understand, but still inspire fear in all. And the words it spoke were these:
After the time of danger, a period of peace will grace the world. All will rejoice, even the displaced ones, and those who should not be.
Those who fought, the Legacy, the Deceived, the Orphan,
the Loyal One, the One Who Should Not Be, the Failed Warrior and the Wolf, form
the Eight. And the Eight, those to whom
all will be grateful, will rest in this time of peace, and time will pass. Until
the number of years has passed, the number which is sacred to the gods, as they
number this. Then shall the devourer arrive, and bring with him a host of the
foul. The foul host dwell where none other may be, and here they will hide
until they are ready.
They are the bane
to all life, and their minds harbour no thought other than violence. Their
power will be unsurpassed by even the nation of the castle, or the nation of
the cleaver ones. They are the ones who will have been feared by those who
surpass the callers of spirits. But the third legacy of the fallen race shall
join the eight. Also shall the descendant join them, and they shall number ten.
And the balance of gods will increase, so they too will number ten, as that is
the way.
But the devourer shall then ready his standard of terror, and his minions will prepare their arms, and many will be sent to trouble the world. He shall then unleash a plague upon the very earth, and the rock itself will be imperilled. But the holy Ten must take the chariot of diamonds, and travel like no other. They must find the Dormant Ones, on the ravaged plain. Then shall the sleepers awake, and the destiny of the worlds become linked, as was foreordained since the beginning. The Dormant Ones will learn much from the Descendant, and this knowledge will aid the Legacies. And the Legacies shall come of age, and take up the mantle of the Dormant Ones. Then the Ten will return to where they left, and meet the Devourer in his keep. Then shall the final battle be fought, and the outcome shall be left to the cruel talons of fate. And one will be snatched into the talons, and all will fear for them. But the Holy Ones must not falter, or they shall fail. If the Ten overcome the Devourer, then all will return to the way they were, and peace will reign again. But if the Devourer is victorious, then fire shall rain, and the world be burned, 'till none may be sustained.
And so the voice spoke,
and the girl was no more. All trembled, as none understood the voice that spoke.
But the scribes recorded the Word in the Book, as they had always done.