Prologue

  The Fall of the Empire

  On the Thistle Plains just north of the Imperial Capital, whistles sounded as the line of Imperial Old Guard pushed forward. The plains, an expanse of thorns and bushes, looked like an anthill from a distance. Millions of soldiers clashed along a seventeen-mile front of death.

  Airships hovered above, exchanging cannon fire or dropping large casks of explosives down on their foes. In front of the Imperial armies, mages stood, rune-etched clothes blowing in the wind as they stretched their hands out and let loose bolts of magic.

  Opposite them, Paladins stood, their own runes glowing, powered not by their blood or their kingdom, but by their faith and prayers.

  Lysa sat atop her warhorse, a checkered mare of black and white, its armor glowing white as its protection runes flashed in the darkness.

  The Alliance of Nations had pushed them to the breaking point. As she looked out across the fields, she saw the middle begin to bend backward. Now. She thought, watching the General next to her.

  The man, regal and proud atop his own horse, looked over at her and nodded before waving his sword. Flares suddenly shot into the sky, relaying orders across miles of terrain. The lines shifted slightly as the Old Guard sped up their pace and rushed into the middle gap beginning to form.

  Nearly fifty thousand men strong, the guard hit the gap and instantly plugged it, their shields lighting up like a line of blue fire across the expanse of ground.

  The sound was a melody that Lysa was familiar with, the clash of swords, the crack of cannon and gunfire, and the rare but occasional explosion of a destructive rune.

  She spared a glance behind her toward the Capital city; it was a splendid sight of gold and marble white. In its center, a single beam of blue light shot into the heavens above, illuminating the Steel Fleet which sat back providing protection for it.

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  When the battle was won, the fleet would deploy and hunt down all survivors of this Alliance.

  Suddenly there was a rumble from the direction of the Capital and Lysa’s eyes widened as one of the Steel Fleet's battleships erupted in flames and exploded, its carcass crashing down onto a section of buildings below it before secondary explosions sounded in a wall of fire.

  The General wasted no time.

  "Lysa, take my personal guards and see what's going on at the Capital!" General Leon said, not looking at her as he tried to keep his eye on the battle unfolding.

  Lysa wheeled her horse around and drove her hard. Beside her, fifty other horses thundered as they raced toward the Capital.

  Another ship of the Steel Fleet exploded, it too crashing down in a rain of fire.

  She spurred her mount onward, the mare panting hard as they cleared several lines of brambles. Several lines of skirmishers looked to her warily as they let them through.

  A third ship, then a fourth exploded and they too crashed down into the city. As she got closer and closer to the outskirts of the city, she saw with horror that the fleet was firing into itself. Runes glowed bright as beams of blue and white shot across the short distances between ships, exploding in deafening thunder.

  Suddenly she caught sight of horses riding to meet her from the city.

  General Renald. She sighed with relief as she drew closer, managing a smile despite her growing panic. Renalds long black hair looked majestic even against the backdrop of ruin behind him.

  "General Renald, what's goi—"

  She never got the words out as the General drew a rune-pistol and fired a shot straight at her. He chest suddenly glowed as her chosen first rune, one which had been forged by her since her time as a squire exploded outward in a shield of light.

  The men with him also fired, instantly killing several of her retinue while other runes flared.

  One of hers fired his own rune pistol, its rune lighting up with fire and engulfing an enemy in flames before the rune flickered.

  A shot hit her horse, bringing them both crashing to the ground awkwardly. Bones broke and armor buckled from the weight of the horse. Both sides exchanged panicked and confused fire.

  Some runes sparked and went dim, leaving their users helpless.

  Renald swiftly dismounted, walking over to her with cold eyes.

  "Renald," she wheezed, struggling to free herself, feeling nothing in her leg. "What have you done?"

  The man didn’t reply, his face a perfect mask of neutrality. He raised his pistol again, this time one of its three runes flaring before suddenly dying. He looked at it confused.

  Then it happened. The area suddenly was bathed in darkness as the eclipse happened overhead.

  The beam of light from the Capital turned red before winking out. So too did the runes of their armor and the runes of the ships. As ships began to crash one after another, Lysa realized what had happened.

  The King and his family are dead. And the magic along with them.

  "On the third day of the third month of the twenty-third year of King Jericho’s rule, the Empire fell and the world was plunged into a darkness that shattered the continent."