Raden arrived at headquarters promptly at 0700 hours. Never one to be late for an appointment, especially one related to the military, Raden appeared before the southern gate ready to check in. He was adorned in his traditional military attire. Steel plates covered his body from the neck down. Numerous rivets pinched at various hinges allowing him great flexibility and movement. Large boots with studded soles gave him increased purchase. He covered the armor with a single sleeved robe, the customary attire of all citizens of the Renzai Empire. The robe was snowy white with red trim. The crimson sunburst symbol of the Renzai Empire splashed across his back and chest. At his waist, his sword dangled low, resting closer to his thigh.
The southern gate was one of three gates that served as the only means of entrance into Renzai headquarters. The western and eastern gates were smaller and primarily used for trade shipments by land and sea, respectively. The southern gate was the main gate and nearly three times the size of the others. It stood twenty feet tall and twenty feet wide. Three layers of steel encased the gate, with wood and reinforced iron sheathed between. The Renzai sunburst decorated each door. The gate had never been breached, nor even dented in any skirmishes from past wars. It was designed and constructed centuries ago during the founding of the empire. The first emperor Renza was credited with the design and construction of the gate. It was rumored that he had forged the giant pieces of steel himself, molded them with his own hands, and placed them into the ground where they still stood today. Raden was never one to believe in such myths so easily, but the mere fact that Renza had garnered such a legend made him all the more respectable in Raden’s eyes.
The gate guards watched as Raden methodically approached the checkpoint. They stood in two columns, one on each side of the paved roadway leading up to the gate. The guards were massive soldiers, giants amongst men, sworn to oaths of silence so they would remain ever vigilant for the empire. They dressed in black; from head to toe they could scarcely be seen in the cover of night. The ancient armor they wore shimmered meekly against the glint of the morning sunlight. Their single sleeved robes hung low and heavy off of them. The spears they carried were twice the size of their already-massive bodies. The gigantic spears should’ve been the most intimidating part of their attire, but it wasn’t. That honor was saved for their headpieces. The helmets they wore almost covered their entire heads, save for their face and a small gap underneath the neck that was left exposed to enable greater movement. On top of their helmets were attached a great pair of horns, each soldier’s different than the next, the only distinguishable feature that helped to tell them apart. Beetle horns, stag horns, and ox horns, each pair unique, bent and exaggerated in its own grotesque way.
Each guard wore a white mask with red paint splayed out in bursts of sunrise. Six gate guards protected the southern entrance, and not surprisingly there had never been an issue with trespassers. As Raden approached, the guard with the beetle horns lowered his spear, aimed directly at Raden’s head. Although he should’ve been used to the protocol by now, Raden always hesitated a bit before standing at attention, saluting with both arms exed across his chest and declaring his name, rank, and division. The sight of that giant spear aimed right at his head wasn’t something he would ever get used to, he thought. The gate guard lifted the spear and nodded to two others to open the gate. They waved him in, and Raden obliged, eager to be on his way.
A massive statue of Emperor Renza immediately greeted visitors. His right arm thrust up to the heavens, his left hand clutching the hilt of Lightstorm, the most renowned sword in all of the empire, with a blade so sharp it had been rumored to split the sky in two, letting fire rain down from the heavens during the First Great War. Renza was garbed in the dress of olden days: a simple robe with one sleeve torn off, old cloth boots, and Lightstorm’s scabbard attached to a belt wrapped across his waist. It was said that in the early days of the founding of the empire, armor was scarce and difficult to make, and only the mightiest of warriors survived. Raden stared at the statue’s face, the sculptor capturing perfectly Renza’s look of sheer determination. Perhaps founding a nation as mighty as the Renzai Empire required such greatness. Raden reminded himself of his own desire to prove that determination to his people some day.
Raden paid his respects and moved further down the main path towards the Inner Sanctum. Down the main corridor he walked with deliberate steps, the clicking of his boots echoing off the acoustics of the large, empty hall. The hall was dimly lit, torches providing the only source of light. From the little light provided, Raden could still make out the paintings on the wall. Legends of past heroic deeds retold from the founding of the empire to the present. There stood Renza at the beginning of the story, extinguishing his enemies with a burst of fire from Lightstorm. Another ten steps and Raden could see the formation of the Renzai headquarters, Renza placing the southern gate into place, and the One from the heavens above pouring down blessed water into the middle of the structure, producing the Kamo Garden, the heart and soul of headquarters. Raden continued along and could see Akira with his legendary bow; Teza with her two faces, the most famous spy in all the empire. Her ability to infiltrate was so great she had convinced the Mazus that she was their queen, expanding the empire without any bloodshed. A few more steps laid Dogen, the one and only Renzai commander to betray the empire. He was lured by promises of riches by the enemy, but was later captured and publicly executed for his treason. Raden stared as the rope hung taut over the tree branch, with Dogen’s body hanging lifeless from the noose. Such cowardice was to be punished, but Raden believed that such a punishment was too lenient for a traitor.
As Raden exited the main hall, the Courtyard of Ceremonies greeted him with a wash of sunlight. The large open-air plaza was the site of all official decrees and addresses by the Ministry of Transcendence. The scent of cherry blossoms filled his nose from trees planted along the entire perimeter of the open rectangle. In the center stood the towering platform from which one of the ministers would appear and deliver the news. Ancient dragons adorned each of the four sides of the tower with faces twisted and grotesque. Renzai banners, two single white pennons with red and gold sunburst, hung from each side and rippled violently in the wind. Raden’s eyes moved from the banners to the identical emblem emblazoned upon his chest. We are the peace. We are the daylight, he thought. It filled him with pride to see the rays stretching forth out to world, bringing with them harmony to a world torn apart by war.
The courtyard was filled with soldiers and officers scurrying busily across the field, not wasting any time.
“Raden, you ugly bum! Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” yelled a tall and rather fat fellow with black spiky hair and piercing green eyes. He bumped into Raden with such force, perhaps contributed by his massive girth, that Raden had nearly fallen over. Raden looked up at the imposing figure standing above him.
“Gama, you oversized sausage link, the next time you bump into me like that you better be ready to draw your weapon.”
The two individuals locked eyes and slowly inched towards one another. The people close by took notice and subconsciously began to form a circle around the two.
“So what are you gonna do about it, you skinny twig?” Gama said without a bit of hesitation in his voice.
“I’m gonna take that sword of yours, cut you up into a hundred little pieces, and feed your worthless tubby carcass to my dog. He’ll never worry about starving with the size of your blubbery body feeding him,” retorted Raden angrily.
The tension in the air grew thick. A young recruit could be heard whispering loudly nearby. “I think the fat one is gonna rip the skinny guy apart.”
With that comment, both Raden and Gama glared at the young recruit, looked back at each other, and burst out in a fitful of laughter. They embraced one another with smiles and hugs. The young recruit was utterly confused and the look upon his face was priceless.
“When did you get back, Gama? I heard that you weren’t due back f
or another week or so?” smiled Raden.
“The mission was cut short; the section of the Disputed Lands they sent us to recon was too heavily fortified. The Vicedonians have Sargatum so well guarded that we couldn’t move east up the river without them noticing us. General Yagar is commanding the troops up at Lake Raphia and had requested more supplies and reinforcements, but there’s no way we could risk losing all that to the Vicedonians. We’ve come back to reconvene, suggest that Yagar send a contingent of soldiers to meet us in the Shambling Woods. Perhaps we’ll be out of sight of the enemy by then. Anyways, I’m glad to be back to base early, can’t wait to hit the kitchen and say hello to the new girl working in the dining hall,” chuckled Gama with his high pitched tone.
“Well, you’ve been sorely missed, especially your twisted sense of humor, Gama,” replied Raden.
“Where you off to this morning?”
“I have an appointment… with the Prophet,” said Raden under his breath.
Gama was silent for once in his life. It took him a minute to gather his thoughts before responding. “So you have any idea why he wants to see you, Rad?”
“I have no idea, Gama. But once I’m finished debriefing with him, you’ll be the first one to know. Now, I gotta go before I’m late and I don’t even get to find out.”
The two best friends clasped right hands and patted each other on the back. As Gama walked away, images of Kimi flooded Raden’s thoughts. He had a strange feeling about this meeting, but he tried his best to clear his mind, making his way into the Inner Sanctum.
The Inner Sanctum housed the royal residences, the tribute hall, high-ranking officer quarters, and the Temple of the One. But most importantly, at the center of the sanctum was the Kamo Garden, the place where the Ministry of Transcendence resided. The five members have been around since the days of old; nearly a millennium ago is what some believed. Whether be it from magic or alchemy, their near immortality was something that put both fear and hope into the empire’s soldiers.
Raden ascended the stone steps leading to the Kamo Garden. Oddly enough there are no guards housed here to protect the Ministry, but if they’ve lived this long, perhaps they know full well how to protect themselves, thought Raden. Five statues stood at the top of the stone steps wrapped in a semicircle. Raden knew the procedure, but a part of him was still a bit incredulous about it. Raden walked up to the statue of the Prophet, saluted and declared, “Raden Nite! Corporal, Tribe of the Lion!”
A few seconds passed by without a thing happening. Raden stared at the statue blankly, not knowing what to expect. Suddenly, from below him, the stone ground began to move. Raden jumped back, nearly hugging the statue of the Prophet. The floor in the center had turned into a flight of stairs leading downward. Raden looked around to see if anyone else had witnessed it as well, but remembered he was alone. Slowly, he took a step forward and made his way down the spiral staircase. It seemed to be much deeper than he expected, and the darkness grew dimmer as he descended. Finally, he reached the bottom of the staircase and stood before an old bamboo door. The door seemed oddly out of place. For an environment where stone, metal, and even magic seemed to reside, this flimsy bamboo door couldn’t possibly be the last barrier to the quarters of the Ministry of Transcendence.
As the thought preoccupied Raden, the bamboo door creaked open and a bright light poured in. Raden walked into the blinding light, and when his eyes finally adjusted, he found himself standing in the middle of the most beautiful garden he had ever seen; the Kamo Garden. Cherry blossoms fluttered by, white oak branches grew from every corner, red bridges with ornate designs crisscrossed every which way over streaming rivers of clear water that seemed to originate and end out of nowhere. Birds of all colors and sizes flew by above his head. The garden seemed so much larger than he’d anticipated. Raden took in all of the beauty that was before him, until he noticed a figure standing off in the distance, peering at itself in a pond. Raden knew that was the Prophet and made his way over.
As Raden approached from behind, the Prophet suddenly turned and spoke first.
“Raden Nite… welcome.”
Raden stopped in his tracks.
The Prophet was an imposing figure, he dressed plainly in a tan robe, black cloth shoes, and cooled himself with a leaf-shaped fan. His long, straight hair was jet black, wrapped up in a bund at the crown of his head. His long pointy sideburns matched his equally long goatee. It wasn’t the clothes or his appearance that was imposing, it was his sheer size that Raden noticed first. He wasn’t just tall, but large as well. He seemed to be double Raden’s height and weight all at once, yet his voice was surprisingly calming.
“Raden… what do you know about Prophecy Rock?”
Raden gathered himself, searched for the answer, and began. “I know as much as I was taught in school… sir.” Raden wasn’t sure just how to address the Prophet, but sir seemed to suffice.
“Continue please,” spoke the Prophet.
Raden hesitated a moment. History wasn’t his favorite subject, nor did he excel in school for that matter. It was difficult to focus when all he could concentrate on were the strange markings that appeared unexpectedly. Raden tried to recall as much information as he could before obliging.
“Prophecy Rock is supposedly located in the center of the world, on a mythical island in the middle of the ocean. Upon the rock, which is the only feature of the island, is etched the prophecy that there is to one day be a savior who will bring peace to the world.”
“Yes,” said the Prophet. You’ve memorized the history of it just like the little ones in elementary school do. Now let me ask you this, do you believe in it?”
Raden flinched at the question. “Sir, I believe in what I can see with my…” Raden paused a bit before continuing, “eyes… and feel with my hands. I have never seen, nor been to Prophecy Rock, so neither do I believe or disbelieve in it… sir.” Raden felt that he had given a perfectly safe answer.
“Your response isn’t really an answer, Raden Nite,” the Prophet said softly.
Raden was at a loss for words. He thought he had given a safe reply, but the Prophet saw right through his answer. Unsure of what to say now, the only sound that came out of his mouth was, “umm…”
The Prophet smiled gently. “Relax, Raden. To some, Prophecy Rock is nothing more than a myth, an old legend that parents tell their children before bedtime. To many others though, it is very real. Many have tried to find Prophecy Rock, but have returned empty handed, or not returned at all.” The Prophet fanned himself before continuing. “There is more to the story of Prophecy Rock than they teach in school, would you like to hear it, Raden Nite?”
Raden wasn’t about to say no to the Prophet, so he nodded his head and spoke, “Yes, sir.”
“The legend goes that long ago, at its inception, Eos used to be one land, one people, with no oceans to divide them. They lived united, in a time of harmony and peace. They thrived, creating a culture of love and prosperity. The One watched over them, proud of the beauty that these people brought to the world. So impressed was She, that She decided to reward them with the Gift, offering them some of Her power: the ability to create form out of nothing. To bring into existence anything they dreamed of, the only limitation being the power of their imagination. But over time, disagreements over how to use the power began to divide them. Before long, these once peaceful and united people found themselves splintered and entrenched in war. The One, disappointed by their selfish behaviors, took back the power She had given them, but it was too late. They blamed one another for their punishment, and the divisions between them grew deeper still. The One grew ashamed of Her children when She saw no end to the war, and so She destroyed her once beloved creation, leaving only but a few survivors. The aftermath of her divine justice left Eos shattered, the lands broken and separated into what we see today. However, She still held out hope. To remind the survivors of their lives before the Gift, and how beautiful life had once been, the One wrote upon
a rock a prophecy that one day, a savior will come who will unite them together once again and return peace to a world torn apart by war.”
Raden thought about the Prophet’s story, and about how Eos was still in the midst of a war that had no apparent end in sight. For as long as Raden could remember, the Renzai had been battling the Vicedonians. Fighting for every piece of land, no matter how small or insignificant.
“I guess we’re still waiting for this savior to come.”
The Prophet turned back towards the pond, staring at his reflection. “There are stories of individuals appearing in history who possessed godlike powers, leading many to believe them to be this savior. They are called Candidates, and they have appeared in different parts of Eos. But all of them thus far have proved to be false. Corrupted by their own power, some were driven mad; others committed suicide, or were killed.”
“How did they get these divine powers?” asked Raden curiously.
“Nobody knows for sure. Perhaps it’s the One endowing an individual in the hopes that they can restore Eos. Or, it could come from other sources of power.”
“Other sources?”
“Yes, Raden. After the Gift, some people were said to have created and worshiped darker entities that embodied hate, fear, and death. There are places in the world that still reek of these entities today. They could also be a source of these powers.” The Prophet turned back towards Raden, studying him inquisitively but not uttering a single word.
Raden shifted his feet slightly. He stared down at the ground, unable to meet the Prophet’s eyes. He felt like every secret was being accessed within him. His diminutive stature standing next to the Prophet didn’t help things either.
“Come here, Raden, stand by the pond with me.”
Raden took slow and deliberate steps towards the edge of the pond. He stared at his own reflection. The nervousness he felt inside could easily be seen on his face as well.
“Do you know why you’re here today, Raden?”
Raden simply shook his head.
“A vision of you appeared to me here.” The Prophet gestured towards the pond. “This pond reveals things to me. Some I understand, but some I do not. I was unfamiliar with you, so I looked into your background. Your reports show you to be an average soldier, currently a corporal assigned to the Lion Tribe. Your superiors are complimentary of you, but nothing really stands out. So, I wondered why you appeared to me. It wasn’t until I looked deeper into your background that I noticed something interesting. You are from Carhay, are you not?”
Raden’s body stiffened. He started gritting his teeth, and his fists clenched instinctively.
“You’re one of the few survivors of the massacre at Carhay, yes?”
Raden nodded his head.
“And your parents were killed?”
Raden nodded again.
“And your sister, she—”
“I saved Kimi.” Raden didn’t realize that he had interrupted the Prophet. “She was only a baby then. She lives with me now. I’ve taken care of her since my parents were killed.” For the first time since their meeting began, Raden found himself staring directly at the Prophet.
“I see.” The Prophet began fanning himself again. He broke away from Raden’s stare, and looked back at the pond. “Your report also mentioned that you were highly distracted in school. Teachers said you were always daydreaming, staring out the window. Once you had mentioned seeing visions of some sort?”
Raden really didn’t feel like discussing his visions. The probing questions about his family had soured his mood, but he had to remind himself whom he was in the presence of, and lying to the Prophet didn’t seem like a good idea.
“I see… strange markings, glowing patterns that appear out of nowhere. I don’t know what they are. I just see them, and then they fade away.” Raden realized he was clenching his fists, his knuckles white from strain. He took a deep breath and opened his hands, relaxing his body and mind. It was almost a relief to finally tell the truth to somebody.
The Prophet paused for a bit, standing there, staring at his reflection in the pond below him. After what seemed to be an excruciatingly long time, he finally spoke again.
“Aside from possessing godlike powers, these Candidates that have appeared in history have all lived and died in very different ways. However, there is one other thing that is common amongst all the stories I’ve heard.”
Raden’s ears perked up. He took a step closer to the Prophet, to make sure he clearly heard what was next.
“These Candidates leave behind… markings. Strange glowing symbols belonging to the original children of Eos, some say. Today, many refer to them as the Ancients. Whatever these Candidates touch becomes marked.”
Raden’s eyes were wide open. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The Prophet broke the moment of silence.
“Raden, I now understand why you appeared to me in this pond. Lately, I have heard some whisperings that have troubled me greatly. This war we’ve waged with the Vicedonians has been going on for longer than I can remember. We’ve both conquered other nations and kingdoms, expanding our territories greatly. Aside from the Pharosi lands, we’ve divided the remainder of the world in half and have come to a standstill. The war has no end in sight, and perhaps this standstill has allowed us a brief respite of peace. The Disputed Lands are in turmoil, and there is no near victory there for either side. Until recently, I had believed that things would continue as they have been for the next millennium or so.
Raden wasn’t sure what to say, or if he should even say anything at all in this moment. What news could possibly trouble the Prophet, and why was he speaking to him about it?
“There are rumors that the Vicedonians have claimed a Candidate. If these rumors are true, then that could mean the demise of our beloved empire. Raden, I see now that the One has given you the power to find this Candidate and possibly the savior. My fear though, is that this Candidate may be another false one. But even if he is, I’m afraid that the Vicedonians will take control of his power and use it against us. I need to know if these rumors are true. If they are, I need you to find out what kind of powers he possesses. You’re the only one who can find him, Raden. Your mission is to infiltrate the Vicedonian encampment in the western lands, find this rumored Candidate, and return to me with what you discover. The future survival of our people depends on your success. Do not fail me, Raden. Do not fail your people.”
Chapter 4