He Comes With the Dark

Prologue

PrologueEo-Terra, First Age

The last days of Lemuria

Zeth stood near the open door, a part of but apart from the gathering of priests. He reined in his frustration and anger only by dint of will, discipline learned as an acolyte of the Lemurian priesthood. He glared at Madrath, wanting to doubt her words, to deny her repetition of the prophecy, although he knew it must be true.

When she raised her gaze to him, sorrow clouded her normal serene beauty. Her dark eyes swept him from crown to toes. With her wisdom and powers, she read him like a scroll. No matter how badly he hated the fact, there was nothing he could do to change reality. She was high priestess; she was reigning queen; she was his mother.

“It is true, my son. There’s no escaping the oracle’s warning. The great cataclysm is upon us. It may come to pass that all will perish along with everything we have known—all the grandeur we have built, swept away and swallowed by the sea. On that, the oracle is silent. Mayhap some will survive and escape. I know not who, but I will not leave. Lemuria is my home; my soul and my spirit reside here. It is fitting that I die here, whether I pass to the next realm or return to the Center for my rest.”

Zeth tossed his head, shaking long locks of ebony-black hair back over his shoulders. “Then I will prepare to leave. I will take with me the seeds of a new Lemuria, and wherever we alight, there we will build anew.”

Madrath sighed. “You will do as you are moved. Indeed, your name is Zeth-Amad, end and beginning, for so the Guardians instructed me to name my only son. I shall not try to stop you. It may be this is the wish of the Guardians. I decree everything you require must be given, that any you choose shall go with you. You may take the Sea Star for it is the largest and strongest craft our people possess.”

Leaving the temple, Zeth hurried to the wharf, calling a bevy of slaves to begin the loading. Foodstuffs, seeds, domestic animals and other goods would be crammed into the ship’s cavernous hold until there was room for nothing more. He gave swift runners the lists of those he chose to accompany him. They must all be there, ready to embark at sunrise on the second day hence.

I will survive and lead my flock to the beginning of a new empire, one whose glory will overshadow even Lemuria in her finest hour. With the power of the sacred relic, I will live forever until all knowledge and power is mine.

He smiled in secret, rejoicing, confident with youth’s arrogance and the pride of his earth-ruling clan. Was it not he who had found the mysterious rod of power, a strange shaft of translucent stone engraved with arcane and sacred symbols? Surely, he was the Chosen One, the progenitor of the Guardians’ new Empire.

Long before dawn on the appointed day, people began to throng onto the Sea Star. It was in those hours Zeth recognized he had erred by selecting too many to fit on the ship. Should he remove a bit of the stores in order to accommodate them or should he cull from his chosen a few to be left behind to whatever fate awaited?

The best and brightest of his generation were coming aboard. How could he leave any of them? First, there was Amaranth, his elder sister destined to be high priestess after Madrath’s passing. Amaranth knew him all too well and had lorded it over him in his childhood. Pregnant now with twins, she wept at leaving behind her lover, their father.

In that, Zeth was adamant. He hated Cormann with a fierce passion, for Cormann was taller, faster and some even said wiser than Zeth. Cormann was as fair as Zeth was dark, but gentle-natured for all his strengths. No, there was no way Zeth would allow Cormann to accompany them. Now ten waited and there was room for only five. Zeth scanned those waiting, struggling with his decision.

“I will stay,” Amaranth said suddenly. “Let another go in my place—Lillianth, perhaps. She, too, is trained in the mysteries. She has the necessary gifts and knowledge to be High Priestess of the new Empire.”

Zeth smiled. Yes, that was good. He’d had an eye on young Lillianth for some time, had already decided she would be his consort when the moment came for him to choose. If Amaranth and her unborn children stayed behind, there would never be anyone to challenge his place as ruler or that of Lillianth as both High Priestess and his mate. With Lillianth and Marchak, his boyhood friend, at his side he could surely conquer the world.

Just then, the earth shuddered beneath their feet. The water in the bay surged. In the ensuing panic, Lillianth leaped with Zeth onto Sea Star’s deck just before a powerful wave tipped the vessel away from the wharf, causing the gangplank to fall into the water.

There would be no further choosing. No one else could gain the ship. At Zeth’s orders, oars thrust through the ports and began to stroke with desperate urgency. Another wave came, even stronger and larger, high enough to wash far ashore. As they drew away from the beach, they looked back to see buildings swaying, walls crumbling, and a billowing pillar of ashy smoke arising from the peak above the city. The prophecy was coming to pass. In moments, Lemuria would be no more.

With iron determination, Zeth swallowed his misgivings. Surely, this was preordained and, just as surely, they would survive. Sea Star was a master-built ship, buoyant and stable. She had survived storms that drove lesser craft onto the shoals, tipping them to spill their contents into the greedy waters. He would steer her to a new shore, a new world and a new life.

For an instant, he shut his eyes as the last cries of Amaranth and her unborn babes, the farewell of Madrath and the dying screams of hundreds more, all friends and kin, echoed in his mind. For a moment, grief and regret washed over him like another great wave.

Blinking back the mist from his eyes as his former home crumbled into the savage sea, he again shook his head.

No, I will not rue my choices. This is what the Guardians decreed.