Prologue: Hated Heroes

The rains came lightly first, gently tickling the earth with occasional droplets of liquid crystal. The emerald lands of Vogel seemed to sigh in pleasure from the gentle rain. But suddenly, the rains intensified, and like a fervent lover crashed hard against the ground, tearing away the thin layer of green protection, meeting the soft dirt. Dirt swiftly turned to mud, and its wetness met with the rain in painful ecstasy. Thunder boomed overhead, voicing the rain’s pleasure as it continued to mercilessly strike the earth.

By then, most of the inhabitants of Vogel had long fled to their homes, praying that the sun would come and silence the impassioned rain. All, that is, but one solitary figure standing motionless on a hill, a hill named Sorrow.

He was a tall man, and seemed quite strong for only his long brown hair, tainted with grey, moved with the howling wind. His face was damp with rain- and perhaps tears too, for no man would dare stand on the hill named Sorrow without grief in his heart.

And in the harsh rain, amidst the thunder and lightning, he bore his heart to the sky. He knew no one else would pay heed to his tale, no one else would recognize the tragedy he had faced. He spoke with strength, though his words were heavy with regret.

“We all knew that our lives would never be the same when we first decided to bear the Swords. But we had no idea how much pain we would face. We all were slowly dying for this world of hills and mountains. We were the secret heroes of Vogel, feared by all, hated by most. We were ready to give our lives for the protection of this world, and most of us did…”