Book 1 Prologue: Battlefield Awakening

"Awaken."

The voice was not a sound, but a command that vibrated through the very marrow of his bones, pulling him from a fathomless void. He awoke to chaos. A fog of pain and confusion began to fill with sound. Not the distant, rumbling commands of a battlefield, but a chorus of human suffering that seemed to rise from the ground around him. He heard guttural groans, the low, desperate moans of men left to die, punctuated by the high-pitched, chilling cries of terror as life slowly left them. The pleas for salvation were not to a god, but to an absent family, a lover, a friend. He could hear them, begging to be found, begging for an end to their pain. The cries were not only human; he heard the desperate, whimpering sounds of animals, their terror mixing with the stench of their own steamed flesh. All around him, a grim orchestra of agony played out in the dark silence of the battlefield.

He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt glued, heavy with grit and an unfamiliar stickiness. The taste of rust and something acrid that seared his nostrils filled the air—the smell of burnt sand and stale blood, a scent that seemed to stick to his throat and lungs, making each breath a struggle. It was a smell he would never forget, a taste that would be with him forever. It was a smell of death, of desperation, of a grim reality that no one should ever experience. The smell was so strong that it almost made him lose consciousness again, but he clung on, trying to make sense of the world that he woke up to. He kept his eyes closed, the empty blackness slowly calming his racing mind and heart from the sudden influx of information. He focused on his breathing, trying to seize control of his rapid breathing. He exhaled, noticing his dried lips for the first time. He slowly inhaled, a sharp pain suddenly clenched his lungs - must be a broken rib or two. 

He continued this, slow and painful, inhaling and exhaling, his mind became clear with every cycle. Breathing now under control, his heart at a normal pace again, and eyes still closed, the horrible stench and groans now distant, he took stock of himself.

Okay, let's start from the bottom. 

He focused on his toes, realising that he must be wearing boots, his toes felt tight- not uncomfortable but secure. Good, I can move my toes. That must be a good start, right? He continued up his body. With all the limited strength he was able to muster, moving his legs, hips, torso, or even his arms proved impossible. A slight sigh escaped his lips. Seems like I am going nowhere fast. With nothing left to do, he tried to open his eyes again. He slowly parted his eyelids with some restraint, careful to blink away any grit. 

Long streaks of white painted over complete blackness were what he first saw through blurry eyes. He kept blinking as the streaks began to shorten and clear. His vision became clear, and thousands of tiny white stars in a deep black sky were all he could see. A long breath left him, his heart slowed. He found himself idly trying to connect the pinpricks of light, searching for familiar constellations, for any pattern he might recognise. There were so many stars, an impossible number, spread across the cosmic canvas like spilled diamonds. He found himself drawn to the thick, luminous clusters that swirled in the deep black, a strange, inexplicable sense of calm settling over him – a feeling of rightness he couldn't explain, as if this celestial tapestry held a secret he almost knew. He followed a flowing line of brighter stars, his gaze drifting across the vast expanse, until two faint crescent moons, barely more than slivers, drifted into his vision. Their slender arcs were like the ghostly smiles of twin blades, reflecting so little light that they only emphasised the profound darkness of the night, casting no discernible illumination on the desolate landscape below.

In his new calm state, a sudden thought struck him, like a single thread pulling taut in a tangled web. His eyes narrowed, and he bit his lip in thought.

Where am I?

He moved his eyes from side to side, up and down. All he could see was the night sky. He decided to risk it, in the pursuit of some landmark he might recognise, and slowly began the movement of his head to the right. An excruciating throbbing above his right ear dominated all sensation, a relentless drumbeat against the inside of his mind. With a sharp cry, he plummeted back into the void.