Episode 1 (part 1): Prologue

My father, Jude Viktor, is the strongest being I know. Bound to the god of war through a covenant, he became the most feared, respected, and revered warrior anywhere he went. He was my hero and worshiped among men like one of the gods, feared as if he were one of the demons. To his foes he was a vessel of the god of war, to his friends he was a faithful hero, and to his family he was a loving protector.

When I became of age enough to speak, he took me to the top of the world, where I could perceive and learn the secrets hidden within our world. I was too young to understand then, but the beautiful scenery I was in awe of, was riddled with horrible nightmares awaiting to torment me; but in that moment, sitting next to the most powerful being in the world, I felt a tremendous amount of joy and peace.

We were sitting on one of the celestial tower roofs atop a floating island, high above the peaks and valleys of the mountain of Noro. The overwhelming sight of the beauty of the world caused me to scream in triumph; after all, I was sitting in the safest place in all of the known world: My fathers lap.

Jude: Shhhhh, quite! We are not supposed to be here. This is our little secret, remember? Your mother must not know that I snuck us up among the sovereign elites. Look up son. Above us are the heavens where the gods descend from. 

I see a vast expanse of water, waves rippling and warping the reflection of the stars. The moonlight dances on the undulating forms, creating a refraction of aurora light. The silhouette of colossal mystical creatures moving gracefully within its depths fill me with a sense of serenity. It's incredibly beautiful.

Jude: That is the oasis that veils the glory of the gods. Without its protection the light would be blinding. It is also where the secrets of this world lie. I was born and raised within its depths, near the surface of the heavens. I'll take you up there one day when all my work here is done.

Titus: Whoa… why must we wait father? Let's go now!

Jude: My son… avert your eyes from the heavens and look below. Tell me what you see.

Below the floating islands, below the mountain peaks, below the garrisons citadels, below the hellcoast valleys, right along the shore is a veil of green fog; and beyond that is the dreaded abyss, where the hellspawn ghouls dwell. A shiver creeps up my spine, fear floods my mind and I clutch onto my father for comfort.

Titus: I see darkness.

Jude: That is not the darkness we need to fear, son. The real darkness is within the peaks of the mountains and the very island we are on right now. We don't belong here. Our home is along the shore, where the ghouls pose no threat to your powerful father, and we are a safe distance away from the island. 

Titus: Why do we live in such a cursed world? When can we go to heaven?

Jude: This world is not cursed my child, it is just broken. I have come to fix it. The war that wages between the peaks and the abyss will soon cease and you won't even remember the battles your father will have fought to gain peace. You will be raised within a society that will never know war. You will never have to fight.

Titus: But I want to become as strong as you father!

Jude: Oh you will. I am a vessel of the god of war, and for that reason the gods will look fondly upon you. One day, you will surpass my strength and be the protector of Noro; until then I will always be by your side to guide you.

Titus: Really?

Jude: That is a promise my child. I am not an oath breaker.

The thought of overpowering my father is unfathomable and not a comforting thought. I find solace in his embrace for a while. Watching the moonlight descend into the abyss along with the fog and the sun rising to eliminate the truth of the depths behind the veil. The fog follows the moon like the tide, disappearing when the sun appears. The surface of the mysterious abyss is unveiled, revealing the beautiful crimson reefs: painted caves, mystical interbred creatures of varying extremities, twisted incandescent plants, and the gaping never ending descent into the mouth of the abyss where the fog and hellspawn ghouls dwell. 

This moment shared between my father and I was the last memory I have of him. He did not keep his promise. I did not become a powerful vessel to take his place. I am an empty weakling that is shunned by the gods. Perhaps a demon will take me in. I am in desperate need of power because my father has abandoned us. Now, my family pays for his mistake of believing in himself and also in me.

***

The aroma of burning incense and delicious food filled the little cottage of the Viktor family on this rainy day. A frail looking young woman with olive skin and curly dark hair was carefully setting the table for three.

Amidst the table of food was a beaten polaroid photo of a man several years younger than the woman. He had bright green eyes with short red hair and freckles sprinkling his chiseled face. A golden chain with a pendant of a red hummingbird hung around his slender neck.

The woman set two sticks of incense beside the photo and gave it a long look before the sensation of a wet puddle pricked her feet.

Startled, she turned around to see a little boy with bright green eyes, wavy red hair, and olive skin sprinkled with freckles, dripping wet from head to toe. 

Lola: Oh gods! There you go sneaking in again without me noticing. What happened to your umbrella? Come here sweetie, let's get you changed.

The little boy shivered ferociously as his mother dried him off.

Titus: I'm sorry mother… I know how hard it was for you to craft that umbrella, but a ghoul snatched it and I was too scared to get it back.

His mother peeled off his soaked clothes, revealing the bruises stretching across his thin frame. She calmly brought his arm down and caressed his face with a warm dry towel. 

Lola: Oh my child, do not forget where you came from. The gods know who you are and how strong you will become. They've watched over us until now. One day, they will grant you their powers and you will become our protector.

The cozy cottage had two chambers, one for the kitchen and dining while the other was for sleeping. Patches of newspapers and cardboard littered the wall covering the cracks where heat seeped out.

Beautiful crayon sketches of colorful mystical gods were displayed on each of these pieces, bringing warmth and life into their decrepit abode.

The gods appeared before men in differing forms, but people assigned an image that correlated to each one. Titus's mother was an admirer of the gods but could not afford to attend shrines so she created her own with whatever resource she could find. She was a devout worshiper, praying for the long awaited heroes appearance.

Titus tightened his grip on his mothers gown while staring down the photo of his father. His mother was a talented artist, able to craft almost any of their necessities.

From gadgets and tools of every kind, she would create what was necessary for them to traverse the dangerous shores of the coast. Titus always marveled at his mothers creations, but would always feel remorse when she wasted it on honoring his father who abandoned them.

His mother always instilled in him his importance to the gods; but their neglect of his mothers fervent prayers made him resent them. Lola gently pushed her son off of her and nodded towards the set table.

Lola: Happy eighth birthday my son. Come eat, Tia will arrive shortly, I have a special gift for you when we finish eating. 

Titus forgot about his frustration and obeyed his mother, taking a bite of the food. He was never fond of his birthday, having to remember his father's absence each time due to the unfortunate timing of the anniversary of his disappearance on the same day was a bitter experience; but a gift from mother? They were barely surviving, anything besides basic necessities were never even thought of.

Titus could hardly hold in his excitement and impatiently glanced at the door every few seconds, expecting his sister to burst through. A loud thud erupted from the door. Titus jumped and scurried over to open it.

Lola: Wait!

Titus looked back at his mother who had unsheathed her xiphos. The double edged short sword was only ever brought out in dire situations. There were intricate engravings along the edge of the sharp blade, emanating a green hue with a vibrating hum.

The engraving on the blade resembled the markings that ran along her thigh: a mystical bird. He did not know what was wrong but he trusted his mothers instincts, just as he had countless times before when she defended him against the horrors of the abyss.

Lola: Hide under the sink cabinet. Don't get out until I say so.

Titus obeyed, and watched from the thin crack of the cabinet door as his mother slowly approached the door. Another loud thud erupted and this time the door broke down, revealing four large figures bursting into the cottage.

Each of them were adorned with white silk garments and intricate gold embroidery. A bronze breastplate armor and helmet emanated a light blue glow from the complex engravings on them and each soldier wielded a different weapon that emanated a similar glow. 

The aura of the inquisitors was terrifying and Titus looked away in fear. The last time they visited the coast was to drag away his father. Titus was taught to avoid them at all costs. To now see them in all their glory, he couldn't help but cower at their presence. 

Lola successfully thrusted her xiphos into one of the inquisitor's necks but the blade bounced away in the opposite direction as soon as it made contact with the blue hue on the armor. She gritted her teeth and continued to try in desperation to penetrate the armor. The short sword kept repelling off of any of the blue embroidery and the inquisitor stood indifferently at her futile attempts.

Up until now she had been a lethal protector of her children, having killed several ghouls throughout her perilous years on the coast. Amidst her assaults, she slipped and fell to one knee; out of breath and shaking from exhaustion. The inquisitor she assaulted offered her a hand up. 

The inquisitors weren't brutes, they had an elegance to their movements, each action calculated with a graceful reverence. If it wasn't for the atrocities they caused towards the people of the coast one would think of them as angels. Underneath all that shiny armor and menacing weapons was just a human, but one that had enormous pride because of the glorious purpose they had instilled in them since birth. Trained vigorously to deal out the peak elite's orders with lethal precision.

Lola gathered her courage and took the inquisitor's hand; she did not use it to assist her in standing up, instead she pulled them down to her level, using her other hand to caress the back of the helmet. She leaned in and gently kissed the neck of the man underneath the armor, inching her fingers underneath the visor of their helmet. For a moment the inquisitor froze, allowing her attempt to seduce him.

The bottom of his freshly shaven jawline was revealed and the visor continued to raise as her lips approached his. Moments before they converged she licked her lips and smiled before sinking her teeth into the man's neck. The other inquisitors quickly unsheathed their weapons as the Lola spit out the chunk of flesh and the seduced inquisitor clutched his throat, struggling to scream. He held up his hand to the armed inquisitors and shoved Lola aside.

He glanced down at her thigh where part of her petite mark was shown. A tattoo of a beautiful red hummingbird with intricate engravings of ancient mystical flowers surrounding it rested just above her knee. Blood continued to drip down his chest as the inquisitor struggled to speak.

Seduced inquisitor: Do not kill her yet. Her mark is superior to ours. This is our chance to invoke out dominance and humiliate her. Let the newbie inquisitor watch for her kids to arrive and kill them while the rest of us take this to the bedroom.

A short inquisitor with a weapon resembling a crossbow revolver took off his helmet revealing his young features. He nodded at the seduced inquisitor as the rest of them dragged off Lola by her hair into the bedroom. 

Titus remained silent and held his breath as the young inquisitor sat in front of the door. The whimpers of his mother could be heard in painful clarity but Titus's mind was overwhelmed with fear. Holding up the polaroid photo the young inquisitor chuckled at the once deemed hero of the coastal people.

He threw it in the air and shot it with his weapon. The revolver had a long musket-like barrel and each time it was drawn, a long stock would unravel latching onto his arm with several tendrils that acted like a brace. Each chamber had a bullet with intricate gold embroidery similar to the armor and the hammer used to load the weapon needed to be drawn back all the way to his elbow much like a crossbow mechanism. 

A hole the size of a fist ate up most of the photo as it floated down but before it reached the ground, hurried footsteps could be heard outside. Tia burst through the door, holding a wrapped gift box in her hands. The barrel of the gun met her gaze and a gasp escaped her lips. The fear in Titus erupted to anger as he launched himself out and scurried to the xiphos on the ground. The startled inquisitor turned around to face the child but was met with an intense pain erupting from behind his knee. 

The small sword felt large in Titus's tiny hands as he gripped it with frightening fury. The blade was shaking as were his hands. The same fear that drove him to be cowering away had transitioned to fueling his desire to save his mother and sister. That fear distilled inside of Titus's young mind and became a potent lesson for bravery.

The barrel of the gun lowered to meet his head but Tia jumped in front of it before the trigger was pulled. Her head exploded in an instant. Titus's heart filled with rage as it pumped rapidly, emboldening him to continue to invoke pain on the inquisitor that had just killed his sister. 

He gripped the sword with his tiny hands and let out a soul-jerking scream as he twisted it deeper into the inquisitor's knee pit. The sword's engraving glowed crimson red, much like the color of the blood splatter that erupted out of his sister's headless corpse. It vibrated at frightening speed as Titus grabbed it tighter and pulled it out. 

The Inquisitor dropped to the floor, clutching his legs and crying in agony. Terror crept into Titus's veins but instead of driving him to cower in fear, it fueled his purpose: to survive and avenge. He let out a shaky breath as he held up the glowing red sword. The frequency at which it vibrated was inconceivable, and the slender frame of Titus tensed up like a coiled spring before bringing the weapon down on the inquisitor's naked face. 

Tia's body was limp next to the twitching corpse of the inquisitor. The gift box that was carefully wrapped was stained in blood and trampled on. The distant wails of his mother continued to seep out from under the bedroom door. Titus had no time to register what had happened. No time to mourn his sister. He was still far from safe. His mother was still in hell.