Everman and Uriel (Prologue)

Everman and Uriel -- Prologue: Introduction of the first story arc: a primitive, medieval-esque Dreamscape.

Everman and Uriel

 

A novel by:

C. A. Withey

 

Everman and Uriel

 

The stone tower of the evil Sorcerer loomed before the mighty Juggernaut. He stood at its wide base looking upwards. His long, raven-black hair cascaded down past his broad shoulders, swaying in its own private breeze. So too did his long velvet cloak ruffle in that secretive breeze, as if the winds of this place blew only for him. On his chin he bore a finely trimmed stubble, and above it an assessing frown. His hand was raised to shield his eyes from the sun as he considered the stronghold of his enemy. Inside that tower he would find Uriel, his beloved damsel captured by his arch-enemy.

           Surrounding Juggernaut were orcs, lowly subjects to the mystical Sorcerer. He could sense their presence long before they had emerged from the surrounding buildings. Dozens of them were advancing on Juggernaut's position, yet he remained steadfast.

           These orcs were naught more than loathsome, vile creatures. They were nothing more than pawns before the Sorcerer, bent on mindlessly doing his every whim.

           Juggernaut turned at length to face the approaching horde. His resolve unwavering, he beheld these sub-human creatures. Their skin was a sickly green, their eyes a demonic red, and their mouths filled with enormous teeth and sharpened fangs jutting grotesquely out of their twisted grins. Their clothes were mere tatters, serving as testament to battles previous. Their weapons were primitive and crude, little more than sharpened rocks stuck onto twigs.

           “You are a plague to the good people of this world!” cried out Juggernaut to the advancing crowd. His voice was deep and commanding, spoken like a true god.

Still the advancing army persisted towards him, their pace quickening. They were nearly upon him, weapons drawn and blood lust in their eyes. The thought of bloodletting excited them, so much so that they were blinded as to who their prey really was.

Juggernaut raised his arms into the air, the wide sleeves of his cloak falling to reveal slender but defined arms underneath.

Electricity began to dance between his extended fingertips, and the air around him began to sizzle and crackle with magic fire. Soon all of Juggernaut’s tall frame was encompassed in a cocoon of radiant, holy light. His eyes glowed with the power of the sun itself.

The sight of Juggernaut in all of his holy power finally gave the impending army pause, as the orcs slowly began to understand the extent of his abilities. A few began to doubt their actions, fewer still had second thoughts about their opponent.

But it was already too late for all of them.

“You do not belong here!” Juggernaut cried out, his voice alone, in all of its power, hitting the orcs like a blow. They cringed and fell back, clinging to their primitive weapons for protection.

           Juggernaut lowered his arms to point at the horde, as if accusing them, and in doing so released the magic that had been gathering around him. A blast like fire erupted from Juggernaut’s fingertips and spread throughout the throng of gathered orcs, electrocuting them. White fire jumped in a line from one body to the next like lightning, quickly tearing through every filthy creature. All that remained after was the ghastly smoke of charred flesh and the stench of bad meat.

           Juggernaut turned his nose upward at the smell of the collapsed bodies, and put his back to them, wrapping his glamorous cloak about him as he turned. His whole manner spoke of pride and power, everything from the way he held his chin high, to the way he gracefully strode up the stairs on his long legs, to his flawless velvet cloak fluttering out behind him.

           With a push, the large iron-clad doors of the tower opened for Juggernaut, and he strode inside. The interior of the tower was constructed of polished steel and white stone. The walls of the tower were perfectly circular, leading straight up above. Torches of brightly polished steel were set into the walls, the plethora of flames casting a warm glow around the entire tower.

           A stairwell of large, polished stone clung to the sides of the circular structure and ascended upwards. Juggernaut went to these stairs and began to climb.

           “Sorcerer!” Juggernaut called upwards, looking at the ceiling of the tower as he continued his ascent. He knew that both the Sorcerer and his lovely lady Uriel could hear his cries on the top floor. “I know that you are there. You’ve stolen the fair Uriel, and I come to claim her back. You and your dark magicks will not stop me!”

           Juggernaut ascended unafraid. His demeanor and stride spoke of silent resolve and unwavering courage. No beast nor mage would keep him from reclaiming the lost beauty that was his by right.

           Round and round Juggernaut went, up the spiraling staircase until at length he came upon a door at the very top. The door was thick hardwood, set in place by polished steel, bearing hinges and handle of intricate design.

           Juggernaut reached forward and grasped the handle, pushing open the door. Beyond was a room, and in that room stood his prize and his adversary.

           The Sorcerer stood waiting, and with him was Uriel, the fair and helpless maiden.

        Juggernaut entered the room, his nearly palpable aura of heroism preceding him through the door.

           “Sorcerer!” proclaimed Juggernaut with his commanding voice. “You have that of which I seek.”

           “The mighty Juggernaut,” replied the Sorcerer with a sneer on his twisted face. He bore robes of a putrid shade of green, a wild stock of pure white hair sprouting crazily from his scalp, and a cartoonishly long nose and chin that greeted people even before their owner.

           The Sorcerer bowed deeply in mock respect. “You honor us with your presence.”

           “Juggernaut!” cried the lovely maiden Uriel. She stood near the Sorcerer, hands clasped before her bosom. She wore a long dress of delicately woven silk, over which flowed her long, golden hair. Her fine dress, long hair, and round, innocent face were all the most beautiful of any maiden throughout the lands. It was Uriel's image alone that all other maidens of the land compared themselves to.

           She cried out to Juggernaut in a mixture of relief and fear. Here, at last, was her rescuer, but ever was she concerned about his well-being.

           “My lady Uriel!” Juggernaut returned, relieved to see her well and whole. “Soon this creature will be slain and we shall be together again.”

           “Fine words, Juggernaut,” replied the Sorcerer in retort. “But I shall not be dismissed so easily!”

           Juggernaut turned to address the vile creature who stood beside his damsel. “You, vile Sorcerer, have burdened our fair world for the last time! Your reign of terror ends here.”

           “Ah, the mighty Juggernaut!” hailed the Sorcerer, excitedly. “Righteous even up to the end! The bards shall sing of your accounts long after you have expired in this tower. The heroic Juggernaut, slain in the end trying to rescue the most precious of jewels in all the lands.”

           Juggernaut’s features hardened as he looked down upon the vile mage with disdain and contempt. In his heart, there was not room to pity this creature called the Sorcerer.

           Juggernaut raised his long, slender arms in the air and once again called forth his holy might. Even in the center of the Sorcerer’s domain, the holy light obeyed his whim and came to him, once again surrounding his figure in pure, radiant light.

           Here, before both Sorcerer and maiden, stood a powerful god surrounded in a sphere of blinding light. So radiant was he that the Sorcerer turned his eyes away, unable to bear witness to his figure.

           Juggernaut’s magicks surrounded him, and at his beckon, they shot forth and pierced the Sorcerer. The contemptible creature cried out, writhing in pain after being skewered with holy light.

           The Sorcerer fell to his knees and gasped for air, collecting himself.

           “Your powers have grown since we last met,” admitted the Sorcerer. He stood then with a recollected composure. “But they are not enough!”

           The Sorcerer gathered his dark magicks about him and returned Juggernaut’s crusade with a volley of dark magic. A spear of shimmering blackness sped from the Sorcerer’s outreached hands to pierce Juggernaut’s cocoon of holy light.

           But the Sorcerer’s black magicks were ineffective. His spear of darkness was consumed by the radiant light of Juggernaut’s shield.

           At seeing the Sorcerer’s feeble magicks turned aside, Juggernaut laughed heartily. The Sorcerer growled like a wounded dog, and gathered himself a shield from shadow, preparing for attack.

           Anxious to be rid of this pest, Juggernaut cast out holy lightning just as he had used to slay the orcs below. The air sizzled and snapped as white lightning jumped from Juggernaut’s fingertips toward the Sorcerer, melting his weak shield of darkness. The holy lightning penetrated his entire form, the light purging him from his unholy darkness, weakening him.

           The Sorcerer tried once more to assault Juggernaut with a flaming arrow of darkness, but to no avail. Juggernaut cast it aside, and continued his wrathful crusade of holy magicks as he stepped nearer. The Sorcerer had been reduced to the floor, crawling about as an injured beast. His back was against the cold stone wall. Juggernaut stood above the Sorcerer, relentless in his attacks. The Sorcerer cried out in pain, his foul voice filling the room whole with a grating chorus.

           Juggernaut at last halted his attack and looked down at his feet where the Sorcerer lie, crouched upon the floor, back to the wall. He looked back up at Juggernaut with one last defiant sneer.

           “It ends here,” said Juggernaut, a certainty in his voice that bespoke the truth in his words. He pointed his magic-charged fingers down at the despicable, helpless form of the Sorcerer. With one last blast of holy power, Juggernaut knew, this creature would at last be slain and the shadow lifted over his peaceful kingdom.

        Small arcs of electricity jumped from finger to finger, sizzling excitedly. The Sorcerer, in desperation, cast his gaze about the room, seeking aid. There was none to be found.

The maiden Uriel stood nearby, her skin tingling from the charge of electricity in the room. The thin material of her dress clung to her figure, attracted by the static. Excitement beamed in her eyes as she stood there, anxious to see the slaying of the Sorcerer.

           There Juggernaut stood, as Uriel watched, above the Sorcerer, a mere second from delivering the final blow that would at last slay the evil for good.

           And it was then, at that moment, that the world exploded.

 

           The stones that formed the structure of the tower sprang from their mortar-enclosed homes as if suddenly escaping captivity. The stairwell below crumbled and fell. The base of the tower gave way, disintegrating entirely, as the surrounding landscape and the sky above suddenly tore away like an image on moist paper. The sun, like a backdrop in a low-budget play, suddenly fell from its place in the heavens. The world whole was destroyed in mere seconds.

           The top room of the Sorcerer’s tower, where Juggernaut, Uriel, and the Sorcerer were, was suddenly suspended in space. Rushing in like flood waters to replace the background of sky and earth, there came storms, purple and blue rippling with world-ending lightning. It was the storm to end all storms. It was, in fact, the storm to end all worlds.

           The Dreamscape Nexus came in to surround that one room at the topmost level of the Sorcerer’s tower.

           Piece by piece, as the three watched in horror, the stones of that room were torn away, starting from the ceiling. Each stone was pulled asunder from the room as if by invisible hands to disappear in the thick, world-encompassing clouds of the Nexus. A thick fog of an unnatural purple hue spilled in from the many gaps.

           Soon every stone had been torn away, even from below their feet. Juggernaut, Uriel, and the Sorcerer were surrounded entirely by the storms of the Nexus. Juggernaut felt the sensation of falling, of a thick mist surrounding him, a mist that was both warm and cold at the same time. The feeling made his skin crawl and left him with feverish chills.

           Juggernaut remembered this, then he remembered nothing else.

           The mere idea of Juggernaut had just been deleted.

 

Author's Note

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