Prologue: The Long Dream
Legends, tales forgotten by time, fragmented, echoed throughout the stream of histories. Some, more real than the other.
It is said that, before there was man, there were gods. The gods were born from light and darkness, the beginning and the end. And when they opened their eyes, they created the world.
At first, there was nothing, so they made land to stand on. There was only darkness, so the elder god created light becoming the God of Light. The younger one took the darkness and painted it over the light, creating the day and night. Thus, he was known as the God of Darkness.
They created many things, everything. From the rivers that course through mountains and plains, to the starry skies above our head. From the grass that paints the world green, to the great trees as tall as mountains.
But the gods were lonely. They began to work on their greatest creation of all: life. Soon, critters frolicked across the lands, and great beasts roamed the earth. Life prospered, from the depths of the earth, to the vast sea. Yet, the gods still felt lonely.
So, they created something more. From broken dreams, and forgotten names, they created the first man. Came with him was the rest of his kind. Mankind was born, and mankind grew.
As they watched their creations with great interest, they found them… lacking. Lacking in greatness, for they are too greedy. Lacking in faith, for they always doubt. Lacking in might, as they are prone to die on their own. Lacking in hope, as they created the one thing the gods forbid: war.
The gods deemed man unworthy. So they left the earth, to faraway lands. Not before they decimated the world beneath.
That was the tale of gods. And like any other tales, one would say that it wasn't true. That there might be more to it.
And in truth, there are. Echoes from the past. Echoes of great warriors that came before man. Echoes of beasts given sentient mind by the gods. Of those who defied the gods. Of shadows from distant stars. And even more. What if the gods aren't godly at all? What if the ancient warriors of gold and flesh and steel aren't their creations, but their doom? What if the god didn't leave the world, but in fact, fled from it?
Only the void of the vast universe would know…
"Okay, I'll bite. What are we looking at?" The foreman asked. For reasons unknown, the entire construction site abruptly ceased their work to gather around.
Next to them was an excavator, halted half-way, with a dent on its digger. The dent was recent. Just a few minutes ago, in fact. The workers were supposed to dig the foundation for the new academy. A big project for sure, the biggest one ever even. Not even the old king's castle was this grand, that's something to take to the account. Thus, delays weren't just inconvenient, they were costly.
But not this time. No, whatever caused this delay was surely worth it.
Underneath the earth was a thing, not just a plain thing, but something golden. It was stuck, so either that thing was pretty long, or it was wide. The engineer supervising the dig dusted off the dirt on its surface, and saw a line of symbols carved into what he assumed was a golden plate.
"Looks like some kind of treasure and what not. Back in western Vale, we once saw three sites like this at the same time. Must be like the rest of them."
"But what is it? Some kind of relic? Artifact? Whatever the archeologists call them." Not the first time he saw one, or heard of them. Vale was covered in relics, ruins and historical sites, from recent history and the past of his ancestors. Civilization, kingdom and settlement come and go on this land. Sometimes it made him shiver: when will they be the next?
"Not this one, but it would be more interesting that way, no?" The engineer gave the foreman a smirk. "Just another stash of those nobles. You know, the old spineless ones that run when trouble comes their way?" He stood up and dusted his pants. "So you can call this a historical artifact if you want, but I don't think that is needed. Just some old fart with too much gold to lose finding some place to hide his things. Best case scenario, we found a little bonus. Worst case, we can still contact the museum. They even buy broken stuff too, or so I've heard."
"So what now?" The foreman helped him get back to the ground.
"We can't use the excavator here, so your man will have to manually dig around it."
The foreman grunted, accepting the fact and told his workers to get the shovels.
Little did they know, that wasn't a stash of some old noble. But something, much, much worse.
"Boss." Said the first worker who managed to take a good look at the thing. "This ain't no treasure. It's a bloody coffin!"
Somewhere, far above them, something stirred back to life. Something ancient, and only half awake. In its state of half living, it cried in silence, calling for something else. Not a creature, not an object, but beings of flesh and steel.
May This World Bathe In Gold