The Cloud Wars: Prologue

Prologue
The dust rose as the rider drew forth. From his place on the balcony, King Ruse watched in mingled fear and hope. Ruse was by no means a coward, but that rider put a chill in his heart like none other before him. That rider brought news of the war, and with it, news of the king’s son. He turned away and walked away as briskly as possible. He made for sure that he didn’t run. It implied a fear that he didn’t want people to know of. Kings feared nothing.

He made it to his planning room and closed the door behind him. The room wasn’t very large, and by no means glamorous like many of the others in the castle, but this at the very least was the king’s own. There was nothing more than a plush chair and a desk piled with books and maps. A few candles lit the entire room. This was where the king came to think.

Right now he needed a drink. He wasn’t going to get drunk, but he needed something to soothe his nerves before receiving what he was sure was the bearer of bad news. Ruse reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a half empty bottle of his favorite wine. He popped the cork and instantly smelt the sweet aroma. He took a few quick gulps before re-corking the bottle and placing it back in the drawer. Just as he did he heard a knocking on the door.

“Come in” he said.

A thin, tired man peeked his head in before nervously pulling the rest of his body through the door. The man was wearing light leather armor, like that of an archer. He wore the expression of a man who had been up for many hours without sleep. The king assumed that probably wasn’t far from the truth.

The man bowed swiftly before he began to speak.

“My lord, I bring news from the warfronts. As we thought they would, the Geninites have attacked,”

The king cringed and put his face in his hands. When he realized the messenger had stopped speaking he waved for him to go on.

“The good news is it was not in our current area of concern, so we still have free use of the Great Road and should still be able to ship men out of Hayor.” the messenger said trying to make the situation sound better than it was.

“Alright. What of the other fronts?” Ruse asked.

The messenger cringed. Apparently he knew the meaning behind ‘other fronts’ meant ‘my son.’ “Of the three forces sent into the Poles’ tribal land only two were successful. General Barous and his men swept through the central villages and took every armed man to his grave. General Ampliuos did quite the same, however…however…” The man’s voice faltered.

“However, what? Damn it! What of my son?” Ruse shouted. His face was deep red.

“The prince’s campaign wasn’t so successful. His men were more outnumbered than we thought the case would have been. The men that weren’t killed scattered. We still haven’t found all of them. We don’t know if the prince made it,” The messenger blurted the information out as quickly as possible. Now he stood wringing his hands together nervously, while staring at his feet.

The king sat in silence for a while thinking about what he should do. The most important move for his country would be to push the Geninites out of his land. If he pulled his forces out of the Poles’ tribal land he could do it, but he knew he couldn’t do it. Now while his son could still be out there.

“Saddle up my cavalry unit and prep half of the King’s Guard infantry. Tell them we march for the Pole’s tribal lands as soon as possible. I want General Trock to lead the first reserve infantry against the Geninites. Break their hold on the city. For now my chief advisor will take charge. Now be gone. I must plan the assault.” Ruse said as he waved the messenger out.


Lex kept his men crouched down behind him as he led them forward through the low-lying scrub brush at the base of the mountains. His men had been spotted a while back. He gripped his spear tighter in anger. Hopefully that one spotting had not ruined their mission. The success of three nights before would have been for nothing if they could not hold off this new wave of invaders. They had lost half of their tribal lands to those invaders. He didn’t intend to lose any more.

Last night Lex’s sentries had seen a new group of men riding toward the tribal lands that they still held. They counted their numbers at nearly six hundred. Holding them off with the 250 remaining warriors would be an impossible task. That was why the warrior, Nex, was where he was. They needed the help of the god’s to hold off these invaders. This was their home. No one and nothing could take it away.

Lex made a bird call towards the second group of warriors. A second call told him that they were falling behind pace. He halted his warriors. They had nothing to hurry about. They had until nightfall before they attacked.


Nex and Lellie made their way up the mountain’s treacherous path. Only a few shrubs grew this high, so most of the path was bare rock. The climb was hard, and thought Nex was physically capable to make the climb, Lellie was struggling.

Lellie’s dress was torn in several spots. Nex still didn’t understand why she had to wear a dress at all. The women of his people wore only the simple skins like the men. Lellie cared too much about what she called a ‘lady’s privacy,’ but that didn’t stop Nex from loving her.

She had run away from home when she was seventeen. Nex had found her helpless and alone. It was love at first sight. Now, seeing their two peoples at war they had decided to take matters into their own hands and stop the fighting once and for all.

Nex turned around and looked back at her as she struggled up the mountains side. Her long golden hair was blowing around in the wind. Her face showed the physical strain mingled with emotional determination.

“Shall we stop and rest for a while?” Nex asked.

Her face turned from a grimace to a grin in an instant as she attempted to look like she wasn’t struggling as much as she was. “No,” she wheezed, “I’m fine.”

Nex slowed his pace anyway. He needed to get to the top before nightfall, but they had made good time so far. Unfortunately the rest of the trek only got more challenging. Hopefully Lellie would endure.



The sun was a deep hue of orange as it hovered ever so close to the horizon. Lex’s men had approached the foreign encampment slowly, making sure to not be seen again. In his careful practiced hands he held two things: a spear and the fate of his people. If this attack failed too early, the lands that his ancestors had held since time out of mind would be theirs no longer. As long as there was breath in his body he would not see that happen.

The warriors’ approach had taken them close enough to hear what the enemy savages were saying, not that the men understood any of it. At this distance, even the many different faces could be differentiated from one another. Each one gained his own personal hatred from Lex. The desire to take each one’s life flooded over him, but he controlled himself. He was the honorable one here, not like these savages who would take his land and kill his people.

He reminded himself that it was only a matter of time now before his people would not have to worry about invaders any longer.

But at what cost? he wondered to himself. His brother’s plan was bold and brave, but it could have terrible consequences. Unleashing the gods powers often did. But the time for that had past, there was no going back now. As the sun sank beneath the horizon he whistled for his men to move in.

Once the camp was surrounded Lex gave a shrill whistle and popped up along with the other men. He was a whirlwind. He jumped on the first man he saw. He drove his spear point deep into the man’s chest. He swung around and slashed at another. His warriors were ferocious. The savage invaders didn’t have time to react. They ran around trying to grab weapons and defend themselves. For a short while Lex’s men had the upper hand. Thoughts of a glorious upheaval victory rose up in his adrenaline filled mind. They were quickly distinguished.

Out of one of the tents rode a grey haired man cloaked in purple. The man rose a great gold gilded horn to his lips and blew. An echoing tone reverberated out. the foreign soldiers suddenly fought more fiercely than Lex thought possible. Suddenly his men became the disorganized ones.

Lex was caught in fierce hand to hand with one of the newly rallied soldiers. Steal clashed against stone. The silver clad man swung fiercely taking advantage of every flaw in Lex’s form. Lex dipped and swirled trying to gain some distance, but was cut off quickly by the man’s sword point. Lex knocked away the point, only to be bashed to the ground by the man’s shield. Lex rolled as the sword point pierced the ground around him. The soldier was relentless. Lex scrambled. Suddenly his hand came upon a stone. In a quick movement he jabbed his spear at the man. When the man knocked it away with his sword Lex threw the rock as hard as he could. It caught the man in the head. Lex jumped up and finished him.

He took a moment to look around. The gray haired man was pointing and shouting. Each order glowed with authority. The man looked like a god. His will was obeyed by all. So long as he stood Lex’s men had no chance.

Lex screamed as he charged the man, taking no heed as a blade sliced through his side. He jumped onto one of the horse backed man knocking him off his saddle. From the back of the horse he jumped at the grey haired man. He jammed his spear down into his stomach.

The man cringed and crumpled. In an instant Lex was pulled from the horse. This time he felt the full consequences of his actions as a sword pieced through his chest. He didn’t care though. The men surrounding the grey haired man pulled away, shouting to each other as they rode off the battlefield. Suddenly the foreign men fought liked they did before, bewildered and fearful, as if they had been taken by surprise again.

As the life drained from Lex he knew that his men had pulled it off after all. Some of the invaders retreated after their leader was gone. This only caused more panic. Soon all of the men were running off of the battlefield. The few men that where left alive where celebrating. The victory had been grand, and as the life finally ebbed away from Lex he only wished that his brother hadn’t been so hasty.



A fearful scream caught Nex’s attention. He looked back to see the rock Lellie was standing on slip out from under her. She caught herself on the ledge of rock beneath her, but Nex knew she couldn’t hold on long. He had to get to her. He ran back, careful not to make any more of the rocks slide down. Lellie was sobbing. A look of terror washed over her face.

“Help me!” she screamed.

“I’ve got you! Just hold on,” Nex replied back.

He was fearful, but had not reached panic mode quite yet. He inched carefully toward the edge of the cliff, knowing it could probably not hold both of them. He grabbed a sturdy looking plant growing out of the side of the mountain, and held on to it praying it wouldn’t snap.

Just as he swung his arm down to Lellie, she yelled out as one of her hands lost purchase on the cliff. Nex prayed to all the gods that it didn’t end this way. For the first time since he had started his mountain climb, he realized that they were both too young to die.

Making sure that one of his legs was wrapped around the shrub he lunged forward and latched both of his hands onto Lellie’s arm. As he did, he felt the rock she had been holding onto slip and fall down the cliff. He arm was sweaty and every second it threatened to slip through Nex’s grasp. He had to act fast. Quickly he flexed his legs, pulling them back with all his might. Lellie grabbed hold of a jutting rock with her free hand and began to pry herself up. In one final effort, Nex heaved Lellie to safety, pulling her upon the cliff.

They both sat there for a moment. Their breaths were coming hard and quick. Nex’s hand was shaking. Lellie lunged at him, embracing him. They held each other like that for a few moments before Nex brought them back to reality.

“Okay, we must be going. It’s almost nightfall.” he said sadly as he untangled himself from the bush, only to notice that it was embedded in by its last few roots.

The rest of the trek was uneventful. They only had a short way to go now anyway. In the distance they saw their goal. An ancient shrine built for the sky god. It was smaller than Nex expected, perhaps seven feet tall and twelve feet long. It was falling into ruin. For almost two hundred years no one had stood in its shadow.

Nex approached it slowly with his head bowed, as protocol required. Lellie followed suit. When they made it to its base Nex finally looked it up and down. It had been built as a place to speak with the gods. Few came to it anymore since the gods reacted so strangely at times. The sky god provided rain and to anger him could be terrible. But now, Nex had no fears. What he was about to do scared him, but it was the only way for his people to keep their homes.

He watched as the sun slowly descended over the horizon, and then he took charge. He grabbed Lellie’s hand and they walked into the shrine. They knelt down staring across at each other, and then they prayed.

When they finished they looked each other in the eyes. What was to be done next was almost too much t bear, but two lives to save many was the least they could do.

“I love you,” was all Lellie could say before the first few tears rolled down her cheaks.

“I love you too. We will be remembered by the gods for this,” Nex said.

Then at the same instant they pushed the daggers through each others hearts.



Ruse rode slumped over in his saddle. The men around him her talking to him, trying to keep him awake. He heard them, but ignored them. His mind was elsewhere now. All he could think about was the pain. The pain and how they had finally found his son.

The wind was whipping and the rain was pouring down in buckets. The storm had started only a short while after the battle was over. It had come out of nowhere and was only getting stronger with time.

The group arrived at a nearby noble’s castle. The steep road had become too treacherous for the horses because of the mud, so the men carried the king a he slipped into and out of consciousness.

When they made it to the doors they knocked franticly hoping it wasn’t too late to save the king, but knowing deep down that it was. When the door opened they rushed in not caring about formalities or even whether or not they were actually invited in. The guards were about to stop them when they noticed who they were carrying.

The house noble came off of this thrown to great the men. He was small, perhaps five foot five. He wore a red silk robe and looked to be more stuck up and pompous than his position of nobility warranted.

“Now, men, there is no need for such lack of manners…” he started but trailed off when he saw the king.

“Here, put him on my throne; make him comfortable. I’ll get the physician,” he said and dashed off up the stairs.

The king slumped over in pain. He was slowly losing focus on his surroundings. He was only vaguely aware that the men around him were speaking. Every once in a while an image of how he had last seen his son flashed in front of his face. A crumpled for lying naked and dead on the ground. He couldn’t stand it.

In an instant everything changed. Suddenly his son stood up. He stood up and he spoke to the king in his mind.

“You, my father, must stay. You will search for him, but he must come to you. You will stay and speak to them all until you find who you are looking for.”

Then he disappeared. The king shouted out for him to stay but it was to no avail. He couldn’t hear him.
The men around King Ruse grew fearful as the king blabbered incoherently and sometimes violently. The only words they could hear where ‘prince Rynal.’ Everything else was gibberish.

When the physician arrive he confirmed what they had all feared. All they could do now was make the king comfortable. Ruse remained conscious for nearly a half an hour before finally slipping into oblivion. A few minutes after that, his body finally gave up.

His body guards wept at what they considered their own failure, but the man who had killed their king had been a wild savage, hell-bent on his intentions. After a few moments of silence they sent two men out, one to tell the current steward that the king and his heir where dead. Another was sent to get to a priest.

By the time the priest got there the room was full of people. The entire castle had come, and many people from the neighboring village had braved the storm to come to pay their final respects to the dead king.

The priest held a prayer service. They king was to be laid to rest in the yard of his final resting place. His body guards where to carry him to an empty room where he would lay for the next night while those wanting to pay their respects came to see the king.

When his body guards picked the king up they nearly dropped him. Sitting in the chair was a white translucent figure. It was a perfect semblance of the king. The men stood there with the dead king in their arms trying to figure out whether or not what they were seeing was real.

The priest told them that perhaps leaving with the king’s body would make the spirit follow. The guards did as they were bid, but the specter remained silently fixed in place. When the men came back the priest was praying and the king stared at him as if he could do nothing else but stare.

For years and years that’s all the king ever did was stare. If a man knelt close enough to him, thought the king would whisper quietly so that only they could hear. Usually what he said was of no importance at all. At all other times however, he sat silent and never said a word.