This is my world so far, I have yet to name it.
In true epic fantasy style my world is set in a medieval style time period, but not too traditionally.
Fall of Light is set nine years after the Borderwars. So, I will give you a quick history.
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In the north is Eillienia, Angalia and Osakeio.
Eillienia is the main kingdom of Fall of light. It is based on the more traditional English/European medieval period.
West of Eillienia is Angalia. Influenced by Scandinavian and Norse history the Angalians are something like migrated Vikings.
East of Eillienia, over the Avalon Sea is the Island nation of Osakeio, an empire inspired by a combination of Japanese and Samurai history.
In the south is Rajangaria, and the sub country of Issan. Rajangaria is hot, dry and relatively hostile. The people are mostly nomadic clans, ruled by an individual chieftain. The countries, people and cultures of Rajangaria and Issan are influenced generally by various Middle Eastern countries and cultures.
So... For year before the Borderwars there had been fighting between Eillienia and Rajangaria but with no unification between the clans the threat of the Rajan warriors was never considered a threat to the Eillienian soldiers who patrolled the Rhone Mountains.
Then came Dharakon Khan.
Naming himself Warlord, Dharakon united the Rajan clans under his rule, leading the masses of warriors over the Bhadakhar Ranges to descend on the people of Eillienia without warning.
For almost nine years the Borderwars brought death and destruction to the northern kingdoms. It was only after the sudden disappearance of Rajan Warlord that the fighting finally came to an end.
Fighting side by side in the war had bonded the three northern kingdoms and together kings of the north vowed never to make the same mistake again, creating the Northern Alliance.
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So the first chapter is a prologue, this post is the first half or so of the prologue in a rough outline.
Set in late winter in the time of the Borderwars is is told from the point of view of Dean, a seven year old boy who is the son of a farm owner in the village of Bolt in Eillienia.
The light is fading as Dean hurries home. Dean is worried, His father is going to be so mad with him for being late. To dean a beating seems the worst thing that could happen to him in his child s mind.
Breaking into a run he reaches the crest of the hill that leads down to the Farmstead. Dean slips on the icy ground, tumbling down the hillside and into the bramble bushes before landing face down in the ditch.
It is then that dean looks up and sees the orange glow. From the spot where he lay in the ditch he can see The yard in front of his home, illuminated by the flames of his burning home. Before him are six dark figures on horseback, their silhouettes forming a circle around the huddled forms of his Father, Mother and sister as they kneel on the cold ground.
In on fluid motion on of the riders slides from his saddle and approaches Deans family. Dean can not hear the words that are spoken. Whatever the black man said seemed to have angered deans father, he lunges protectively to move himself in front of his family.
In one frightening second the shadow man steps forward, gripping a handful of Deans fathers hand in his fist he yanks his head back. Without hesitation a knife appears in his hand, and he sweeps it over his throat. His father Falls to the ground, the screams of his mother and sister drowned out by the explosion of the fires as the beams in the burning roof give way. Dean clamped his eyes shut.
After a moment he opened his eyes again when he hears a scream, with wide eyes he looks on as the riders throw his mother and sister, roughly over the front of their saddles. With a single whistle they all remount and disappear into the darkness beyond the flames at a gallop.
Dean stays in his place in the ditch all night. Gradually the flames of the buildings die down, and by the time the first grey light of dawn arrives they are little left but smoldering embers.
Crawling out of the bramble dean slowly walks over to the still shape of his fathers body on the ground. Blinking the tears back he walks over to the remains of the barn. Poking at the smoking ashes with a stick he finds the head of his fathers shovel still intact, the handle having burnt away. He pulls it out to cool for a moment, then walks over to the trampled remains of his mothers vegetable gardens and begins to dig.
After some time of Dean hacking at the half frozen earth with the spade tip he is startled by the sounds of horses approaching. The horses are close, there is no point in running so Dean returns to his task, lift, strike, sweep, lift, strike, sweep.
The horsemen arrive by the second strike. Dean does not look up but he can not help but listen.
The man at the head of the riders curses loadly, leaping from his saddle, he stides over to Deans fathers body.
After a few breathes Dean wipes his eyes and resumes his digging. In the background he can dimly hear the men talking, then the voices go quite. Deans eyes begin to water again as he hears the footsteps approach him, stopping a few feet from where he worked. Dean blinked and continued with the motions, refusing to look up at the stranger who watched him.
The sound of steel on stone behind him made dean jump and he whipped his head around. Of all the things Dean had expected to see the reality was none of them. Dean stared bewildered for a moment, at the opposite end on the grave the man had knelt, his once fine clothes now caked in mud. Deans confusion however was that the man had began to dig using the blade of the finest looking sword dean had ever seen.
After the grave is completed the stranger helps Dean to place is body in the ground and fill it in in silence........
