The End Before the Beginning

It was dark. Almost black. The cold rain which had soaked him through, continued to beat down upon him. He tried in vain to shake the wetness from his face, but in that momentary lapse of concentration, he felt his foot slip from the cliff face, sending a gift of broken rock, loose dirt and fear hurtling down the side of the mountain.

He desperately kicked his foot to another crevice in the rock, hoping that there would be something to save him. A moment went by, and slowly, evenly, he relaxed. It was solid.

He closed his eyes, refocused himself, and slowly, took in, perhaps for the hundredth time, his surroundings.

Lightning cracked the sky, throwing into sharp relief the enormity of his task. This lone pillar of rock, far, far above the forgotten forest canopy below him. Lonely, like a spear thrown from the heavens to crash into the earth itself.

He took in his cracked bleeding fingernails, his ripped tunic, his sword belt which had long ago plummeted to the bottom...but he must continue.. he must always continue.

He looked again to the apex, black sky, as if the stars themselves were hiding, but each bolt of lightning that seared his vision also showed him there was an end.

He looked longingly again, waiting for the next flash of hope.

And it came. The white scar appeared behind the pillar, but it backlit a figure, a silhouette that he'd never seen. Before he realized what he had done it was to late, he drew back in fear and lost his grip on the mountainside. He sent out a hand to grab something, anything, but there was nothing there...

Elavaire fell.