Chapter1 - Daniel Steiger

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Prologue The filth that lined the streets and alleys of New Pera was the first thing that anyone noticed upon entering the city. Concentric rings of utter disarray led focus quickly away from the streets and on to the Globe. The Globe was a massive sphere of unknown metal which sat upon a large bronze dais in the center of the city, looming over the subjugated and downtrodden citizens. Ten times again as high as the next tallest building, it radiated a power and strength that was challenged by few and rivaled by none. Down below, in the shadow of the monolithic creation there was fear. There was no fear of crime, for justice in the city was both swift and harsh. The people have learned to live under the laws of the Great Ones, any crime of violence or theft is punished swiftly and brutally. Even the slightest accusations were enough for the Globes Guardians to seize those involved and take them into the Dais for imprisonment or execution, and always during the day. Always the Guardians came during the day, when the largest number of people could see those being dragged away, never to be seen again. Every person knowing full well that they could be taken away by a whisper. The ruling ideals were control through fear and none were better than those who dwelt in the Globe. Even the children of the city were subject to the same cruel laws. Many a child had been taken as brutally as any others. Despite the fear pulsing through New Pera, there was healthy trade. Citizens may have been subjugated, though the craftsmanship of many who plied their trade in the city 1 was second to none. It was a city of great people who would never know their true potential. The Markets all lined the smallest ring, facing inwards, towards the Globe. A constant stream of wagons flowed into and out of the city, with scant few going directly into the base of the Dais. The smell of Gold permeated the Inner Ring, with high valued goods being bought and sold in massive amounts. Although there was more than enough wealth for all, the city was starving. Rampant food shortages plagued the Outer Rings, and people did little more than grumble, while slowly wasting away. They all lived in fear of the Guardians, should they think to take a little more than they could afford. Most people there were dying, and no one cared. Everyone had seen at least one person they knew taken away, never again to be seen. Fighting was foolish. There had been a small group of men who tried to sway the Guardians from taking someone to the Globe. When words failed they tried force. Over a dozen men against only two Guardians, the fight was short. The men never stood a chance, all of them made to bend knee on the pavement and given moments to plead for their lives before they were executed while everyone nearby watched. It was not the swiftness of the fight which brought on the fear. It was the simple way in which the Guardians ignored the dead men lying in the streets. They were no longer of any concern to them, so they no longer mattered. New Pera itself was situated in the center of circular mountain range, so large as to almost make the city seem small in comparison. The entire border of both the inner and outer mountains were completely impassable. The only access in or out of that valley was via an underground road. None but the Great Ones knew just how deep the tunnels went, as only a few paths were open to any but those who wore the symbol of the Globe. The 2 people of New Pera were not permitted to leave the valley. Only merchants, Guardians or those who mined the resources to supply the market districts were even given access to the tunnels. It was said that the ban on leaving was for the protection of the people. That the areas beyond the mountains were no more than a desolate waste, filled with inhuman horrors, and nightmares beyond anything they could imagining. When asked, the merchants refuse to speak, sometimes stopping and silently staring down the inquisitive party. Given the favor the Guardians show to the merchants, the locals are mostly smart enough not to press the issue further. Though some say there is a look in their eyes, almost of pity, hidden behind the cold sound of silence. Nothing has changed in the city for many years. Generations of people slowly dying out, fully given in to the greed and desire that drives those who should know better. The Great Ones have not been out of the Globe in the memory of any who live, and none but the most foolish speak out about their plight where any ear may hear it, lest the Guardians come for them. Life was not getting any better, nor could it, in the minds of all. A once great City slowly becoming a shadow of its former glory. Scattered, hidden throughout the people, there existed a number of those in the employ of the Globe. Men and women who had been confronted, in secret, by mysterious figures seemingly cloaked in shadows, a choice would be given. Death or Servitude. They had been made to become Listeners, tasked with finding and reporting any who speak against the Great Ones. No one of the general population knew of the existence of the 3 Listeners, they are one of the great secrets of New Pera, silently reporting the misdeeds of others. Once chosen, Listeners were granted access to the Globe, through a multitude of hidden paths, leading below the main city, part of a honeycomb of disused and forgotten tunnels, snaking for dozens of miles below the city. Inside is where they were trained, changed into something more than human. Something not quite part of the world in which they live. Their existence bordered on the edge of reality. One of whom was a man named Micah. Micah was first approached the day after his twenty first birthday. In the small hours of the morning, he woke with a start, sensing more than seeing what appeared to be a living shadow, hanging over him. Judging, weighing, deciding. "Micah..." a voice hissed from the darkness.” You have been marked, speak nothing, but come. Refuse...and die." Terrified, almost frozen, he nodded slowly and began to get dressed. He tried to be quick about it but the terror that shook his bones caused him to fumble frantically. "Come as you are! Time is short, and we mustn't keep them waiting." The shadows disappeared out the door. Blinking in confusion and panic, he followed as quickly as he could. Micah bolted from his home wearing nothing but smallclothes, he had a small fear of Guardians waiting outside for him to exit and arrest him. Frantically he swung his head out the door 4 flinging it around, trying to look for any sign of life or to find where the Shadow with the hissing voice had gone, but he could not see anything "Come or Die" were his options and he was quickly running out of options for being able to follow. Fear. For an eternal moment he stood there, sweating in the cold, worrying about what would happen if he was not able to follow. "Come!" It came from the right, away from the Globe. On a path that led towards the Outer Rings and the wall of the city. Micah was certain there was no exit to the outside this way. His heart skipped a beat, tonight would be the night he died. Focusing on the sound of the voice more than trying see where it went, he followed. It was not long before he was able to vaguely make out a shifting shadow shape in front of him. It was there all along, but hard to focus on. In the back of his mind Micah felt as if he was heading towards his own execution, though he had always been a pacifist. Never daring harm on any, whether it was physical or through words. Fear gripped him, crushing his heart in a vice, making it difficult to breathe. Nothing had ever prepared him for something like this. His simple life before had never had taught him anything as to how to prepare for being summoned by shadows in the night. Making their way towards the outer rings of the city, he could feel the terror growing in his mind. Where were they going? What did it mean that he had been marked? Every step along the road was a step away from his hard, but familiar life. Heading into the unknown was not something he was ready for. After a short while, just inside the walls, they stopped. They were standing in 5 front of a large stone arch that had been blocked off, an old exit from the city, perhaps, in the center of the road. "Where are..." Micah began. "Silence!" The words froze his tongue in place. "Kneel, dog!" And so he kneeled, dropping to the stones so fast that his knees made a distinct crack, pain shot through his body but he did not cry out, did not wince, he just knelt. Within moments of hitting the ground, a dull glow began to radiate from the stones all around him and the shadow. The slight glow quickly intensified into a cascade of blue light. Enveloping him, drenching him in energy. Then the world fell away. For what seemed a lifetime, Micah was disconnected from everything physical, existing only as energy, no form, no thought, just existence. For a fleeting moment he felt as if he was life itself. Then the world returned. With a sickening thud, his mind and body became one again. For a few heartbeats he could feel himself sliding around in his own skin. Then there was stillness. Eyes closed, knees upon the stones, he whimpered. "Stand." And so he stood, eyes slowly opening as he forced himself up on his now sore knees. He looked around and his heart leapt into his throat. They were no longer on the road near the gate. They were in an underground chamber that seemed so vast that the 6 walls and ceilings were barely visible. Every inch of them, however, was covered in a series of paintings, depicting an epic story. His eyes traced from one point to another, following the painting. It appeared to tell the tale of a normal man going about regular tasks. A strange thing to commit to such permanence, it was baffling. "Do not gawk, marked one. Follow." That voice grated in his mind. But follow he did. Straight on, they walked towards the far wall of the chamber. A small tunnel in the stone, extending into darkness began to form from the shadows. Following, he kept one eye on the shadow in front of him, and another on the walls, trying to find a hint in the paintings as to where he was, or what was happening to him. The tale seemed to continue fairly normally, showing the man doing his daily tasks. It was then that he saw something that almost made him stop in his tracks. An indistinct shadow scrawled in the path of the story, approaching this normal man. The shadow was depicted by what seemed to be charcoal brushed around in the vague shape of a man. It was something that almost seemed out of place, something that was added many years after the original was created. It showed the man being approached by the shadows and it was here that the story seemed to take on a number of paths. One was made to follow, another was struck down, while others yet seemed to follow, yet their stories made less and less sense than the first two. It reflected the choice he was forced to make. He was suddenly ecstatic that he did not refuse to follow. All the men in the relief who had refused to follow wound up on a 7 path that led to their obvious deaths. The shadows in the tunnel gave way. Another chamber, this one circular and brightly lit by the glow of a few small wall lamps reflecting off structures that appeared to have been carved from gold. There were no other tunnels leading out. In the center of the chamber there was a stone table, surrounded by a wall of shadowed figures, identical to the one that took him from his peaceful home. "Micah!" The voices shouted as one. "You have been marked for the service of the Globe. By following, you have made the decision to become a Listener. Come." Confusion overwhelmed his fear for a moment, "What? Why have I..." "You will remain silent, fool!" The shadow he had followed whispered to him. "Lay upon the table, or you will die." There was no remorse in that voice. If he was to be killed by this...creature, then it would feel nothing. Just another job it was tasked with doing. And so he listened. Slowly, methodically, he made his way into the center of the chamber, towards the wall of shadow and stone table. Each step he took felt heavier than the last, harder, as if he was trying to run through waist deep waters. As he approached the table, attempting to not speak, trying not to show fear. He crawled onto its surface and lay upon his back, eyes looking towards the ceiling. He had only a few moments to think about the fact that he was now surrounded by a wall of shadowy creatures that seemed to not care whether he lived or died. Panic began to swell up in him once more and he tried to sit. One of the shadows placed its hand upon his forehead and held him down. The 8 strength behind it was immense, there was no way he could possibly remove himself from that grip. Fingers strong as iron, yet as gentle as wool, they were colder than anything he had ever felt before. Micahs' eyes went up to the center of the ceiling, still covered in what he assumed would be his story and for a fleeting moment he saw the end of it. The death of the Man who followed, struck down by his own hand. He had only a moment to ponder the implications of that, would he die regardless of his choice? Before he could change his mind, the world went black. 9