Chapter I
The Breath Before the Plunge
The wind at the edge of the Blighted Land was unusually chill, yet its cold bite did not penetrate the steel of Sir Clouds Foeslayer’s red-tinged plate armor. Undisturbed atop his black war stallion, the knight surveyed miles of flatland before him, the ground torn apart by twisted trees and covered by a thick layer volcanic ash and soot. A day’s ride head, the giant monolith of Mount Fera rose from the tortured ground to loom high in the sky as if daring the brave or foolhardy to challenge its peaks.
Mount Fera was the largest thing Sir Clouds had ever seen, and it was his first time laying eyes on it. Legends told of a great cataclysm eons ago that had created it, ripping a hole in the world and opening a gate to somewhere dark and terrible. Truth be told, Sir Clouds did not much care what had made the mountain. He was here with a single purpose – to close the gate and destroy all the demon filth that stood in his way.
“Nine-hundred and ninety-one, Clouds. That’s how many have answered the Call.”
The voice spoke to Sir Clouds from behind him, though he recognized it immediately. Sighing, he turned to the man and prepared himself for one of Sir Jack’s never-ending monologues. Flames, the man knew how to talk. If Sir Clouds had not fought alongside the slender man in battle before, he would have dismissed him off-hand as a soon-to-be-dead blowhard.
“Half o’ them knights are barely boys, Clouds. What do they think the demons are gonna do here, play noughts and crosses with them?” Laughing, Sir Jack nimbly jumped down from his brown gelding to kneel and scoop a handful of black ash from the ground. The man upended his leather-gloved hand and the ash fell back to the ground.
“The first day is always boom and bluster, Clouds, you know that. Then half the knights die without even reaching scaling the Cliffs. The whole affair is quite embarrassing if you ask me. Don’t you agree?” The Fire Knight stood again and continued without waiting for an answer.
“Forty-nine days. That’s all it will take to get to the top of Fera. And then this heartstone–” he pointed at the crimson jewel fitted into the chest of his leather armor, “–will shine as brightly as a newborn babe’s.” Sir Clouds saw that, like his own, a dim fire burned within the knight’s heartstone. “When that happens, I can have my own manor. Servants, women, and wine all day, all night. No more stiff-backed nobles lording it over me.” The man strode up to stand beside Sir Clouds’ horse, planting both feet firmly and crossing his arms, a beaming smile on his face.
“It’s going to be glorious, Clouds.”
Sir Clouds paused a moment, unsure exactly how to tell the man that he stood in Lancifer’s horse droppings. Realizing Jack was about to open his mouth again, Sir Clouds spurred Lancifer forward, cutting the man off.
“Come, Jack. We have demons to kill.”
