Prologue
The boy had nothing to his name.
Not the strength to aid others, nor the resilience to defend what was dear to him, nor the ability to save the ones he loved.
He sought, he yearned, he stamped his feet in childish anger, but none of it was any use. He was astonishingly ordinary. The only road before him was one of resignation, of biting his lip in bitter acceptance as he watched his comrades leave him behind.
And then, one day, his dreams came true.
“What would you do, boy, if I offered you power?”
What would anyone do if the prize they had sought for so long were to suddenly appear before them?
A temptation sweet as honey. An invitation to forbidden heights. It was not a goddess’s radiant benevolence that reached for him, after all, but a devil’s black ambition—and that devil’s eyes made all too clear what it had planned.
“You dream of being equal to your comrades, do you not? Of having the strength to stand with them, shoulder to shoulder?”
A moment of weakness born of hesitation. The darkness within him began to swell.
“All would prostrate themselves before you. All would bow their heads. All would bend the knee.”
In the end, his ordinariness was his undoing. He had neither the means nor the strength nor the wherewithal to resist. Perhaps he’d never even had a choice at all. His heart’s desire lay before him. Nobody could stop themselves from reaching out. All rationality begged him to turn away, but his body urged him on, his heart pounding for joy. A cry burst from his throat. He clapped his hands over his mouth, but the figure before him only smiled knowingly.
“Why so anxious to hide it? Are all humans not thus?” The man’s mouth traced a painstakingly gentle line, but his amusement did not reach his eyes. “Cast aside your squalid ideals and embrace your true desires. Wield fire and sword as your ambitions bid. Close all in your grasp with insurmountable might. That is the true nature of this world. The strong revel, while the weak kneel. The strong soar high while the weak crawl in the muck. There is no wish that power cannot grant.”
With ardor on his lips, the man extended his dark hand once more.
“All might will be yours to wield. All schemes will be yours to spin. All prizes will be yours to claim.”
Sweet honey oozed around the boy, holding him fast. Unable to move, he was powerless to do anything but stare.
“Tell me...do you seek power?”
And so, wishing only to stand beside his comrades, he reached for the forbidden fruit.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login