Prologue

On a dark mountain wrapped in billowing thunderheads, Amos Ender rent the skies and stepped down into the world of man.

Cold winds whipped at the folds of his cloak and threatened to hurl him back into the tempest which heralded his advent. Yet he appeared unaffected by the great gusts, his tall figure swaying so effortlessly it seemed he somehow knew where they would blow next. He stood upon a broken and jagged outcropping near the top of the mountain, clouds and mist swirling below and – for the moment – obscuring all around him.

For some time he stood there, and it would seem he had some knowledge or other which weighed so heavy upon his heart it rooted him to the mountain, so solid he appeared amidst the shifting shapes of the clouds. Though clothed plainly in varied hues of grey, what could be seen of the mountainside around him felt dimmer still, void of any light or life, and washed with an almost ephemeral quality by his presence.

An eerie glow shone from somewhere unseen, casting a sickly shadow on the rocky ground beneath his tall boots. His head was bowed, a long hood obscuring his features. The sound of thunder began to roll across the sky, and as it grew louder, he raised his eyes.

His face was lined with sorrow, and beneath - fury.

“I will never return!” Amos screamed, looking up through the storm clouds above. His fists clenched, he Cast one last time. No answer.

How could this have happened? What could I have done to foresee such events? I am broken, and fear I may never be mended again. All that I’d worked for - swept away like dust before the Caracorde. Will things ever be as I once knew them to be? Is this truly what he meant? How could he have known this would be the result?

Lightning crackled, dimly illuminating the sky to the north, then again still further away.

Amos shut his eyes, head still lifted toward the heavens. For so long I’d worried I had misheard or perhaps misread what he said, that he intended something altogether different, or that I was to be called off at the last moment, but whoever was intended to stay my hand fell before they could reached me.

He frowned. But if that were so, how have I come to be here? Has that kingdom divided further still?

That was a truly terrifying possibility to imagine. Yet so much had changed, Amos began to wonder if that incredible upheaval might have only been the beginning. But were we to know nothing of it beforehand? Daniel showed no such awareness the night he arrived with my assignment. And yet, impossible though it seemed, he’d not seen nor heard from Daniel since. In fact, no one had come to him with another assignment. Though it was rare, others had borne news of Judgment to him in the past. But none had come. They can’t all have been among the Fallen, and from their Office Daniel would have certainly remained.

Amos stopped. He knew little about Daniel, and even less about the other Presages, but nothing in his experience could make sense of their role somehow being compromised. How could even one of them be counted as such? Their charge was far too important; surely it was well-guarded beyond what even Amos could imagine. Yet if my orders were from another, or for that matter, if any of the commands to my Office came from somewhere other than the Throne – Amos shuddered.

As he did, some of the details of the mountain returned, in slow reverberating waves that rippled inward toward Amos. He seemed to diminish in appearance and stature – a lone figure against a great darkness. Thunder rumbled from deep within the massive cloud banks above him, louder this time, menacing. 

Amos bowed his head once more, his shoulders sagging. Fear and doubt had at last eroded his anger. The truth was, anything began to seem possible after the way he’d been pursued. For what cause I know not. He thought for a moment. Perhaps he did. But why wait so long? Why wasn’t I thrown out with the rest? When no further Presages had come, he’d sought and sought for an answer, for anything that might explain why he’d been kept from fulfilling his Office. Maybe he’d asked too many questions. Maybe he’d asked the wrong ones. His face darkened once more. Yet how else would I have continued? Did he expect me to wait so long?

He opened his eyes. Only a fool could look into such eyes and not shiver. Dark pools filled with the night’s battle beginning to rage across a shattered sky. Slowly, his gaze turned downward.

To Huaráz.

. . .