Valacirca

Prologue

The flame mark on my right wrist blazes as bright as a small star with crimson flames flickering up, reaching as high as my elbow. The inferno glows as my power stands beneath my skin, lingering under the surface; waiting to be free. Fear and excitement simultaneously dance around us as the once glorious wall of fire that protected Valacirca fades more and more; light and heat dissolving into dust. Endless energy being reduced to ash. Lifeless grey falls to the ground for a moment before being swept up; carried away by the wind. An unfamiliar chill settles around us, unwelcome in the land of fire; the crimson world.

My brother and sister stand beside me, their wrists lit up with similar power and a matching determination in our eyes as we prepare to defend our home. We stand together, the heirs of Valacirca and its people; its soldiers. Ready to fight the Army of dark souls that had once been trapped in the darkest depths of Eridanus. Ready for war, a concept that is unfamiliar to most in this peaceful world; we've all trained and fought in the training grounds but few of us have ever experienced real war. The last war -the war of the worlds- happened over 10,000 long years ago and peace has been regained since. Valacirca, Soronume, Hydrus, Orion and Eridanus are in glorious harmony and the Gods no longer fight. Instead, they have retired to Eridanus -the land of souls- to watch over all the people who have died heroes for their worlds. I myself have seen only small battles as well as the rare challenge to my title. However, those do not compare to the war that has already begun. To the blood and chaos that fate has cruelly promised.

We all believed that the gateways would protect us; that they would always remain closed to those wished harm on our worlds but we were foolish and naive. Even the strongest walls won't hold up against an army. Wrongly, we assumed the desolate, frozen land outside could sustain no one but the dead need no food or drink and feel no cold. So now here we stand, waiting for the war outside our walls to break them down with only the guardian of the gateway left as our last defense before they breach our shields.

I imagine what we all look like to the demons and phoenixes flying above us. White, yellow, amber and crimson; an army of fire with our wings spread out like shields behind us and eyes bright with power. Like a warning sign; a dangerous work of art.

Finally, I see the last of the flames disappear. Whispers rise and I draw my sword, hearing the harsh scraping of metal as others around me do the same. Slowly, the flaming strength that surrounds my right wrist embraces the silver sword, enveloping my weapon in the same scarlet fire. Violent screams destroy the quiet and I silently pray for the loss of our beloved guardian. May you rise from the ashes and let your light burn once more in Eridanus, Lexia.

In the last moments before the violent clash of swords and tragic cries of suffering, I pray to Apollo and Brigit. Please, let this battle end in light. With little death and little pain to those who remain faithful to you, our Gods. At the end, let Valacirca's flames ignite again. With that last thought, I shout the warning as I feel the taint of foreign power, dark and cold on our warm soil.

"Get ready! They arrive!"