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Prologue

Prologue

Fukmos blinked in the sunlight. He wasn’t used to these conditions, having spent most of his time in the Underworld.

Under the ground—under the very earth upon which they stood—which no sun could penetrate. Fukmos and his sisters had been birthed in darkness, and that was all they knew.

Even upon reaching the surface world, they had stuck to the shadows, clinging to places no light could reach. It was nice there. Familiar. And most of all, Fukmos wouldn’t have to know he was—

“Sweating, brother? You’re sweating.”

Myaris giggled into her hand. As the Goddess of Disease, she was a strange picture. Her hair was in clumps, her skin blotched and marked by ailments beyond worldly knowledge. It was pale and, unbeknownst to her, a bead of perspiration was dripping down her own forehead.

“That’s disgusting,” she continued. “You know that’s what

humans

do, right? Disgusting creatures with their illnesses and maladies. They sweat it

all

out. The sign of a good fever is in the sweat. ” She licked her lips hungrily.

Beside her, Dryana hovered an inch or so off the floor. In the darkness, it was simple to see her in her entirety, but out in the unblinking sun, she was almost transparent. Even her long dark hair was nothing more than a ripple in the air.

“Don’t be too hard on him.” Her voice was hollow. As the Goddess of Ghosts, she often scared the hell out of Fukmos. “He’s not built for such conditions. None of us are. This situation is beyond our natures.”

Fukmos swiped his forehead with the back of his dark, skinny arm. “Look, why don’t you spend less time worrying about me and more time answering the question?”

The girls turned to each other, then broke out in giggles again. Fukmos sighed. He was tired of their company, but he reluctantly accepted that he needed their help. His father, the God of the Dead, had assigned them to help Fukmos on his mission, but that didn’t mean he was having any fun along the way.

Sure, they had been recruiting for their army in the protection of a small quarry beyond the forest’s borders, but as much fun as it was to send out wave after wave of troops and see all the new recruits arrive, hanging out with his sisters wasn’t enjoyable.

Dryana! Myaris!

Ooo

, is Fukey getting upset?”

Fukmos’ fists shook with rage, and he ground his teeth. Ribbons of shadow began to unfurl around him, weak and wobbling in the sunlight.

“Oh, relax,” Myaris said. “Come on, we’ll show you.”

They led Fukmos to the top of the quarry. The journey was quick since they all morphed into their ethereal forms and slid up the rock face as shadows.

“Progress is good,” Dryana crooned. “They are coming in droves. Soon we will have amassed enough to tear down the walls and break them, just the way father instructed.”

Fukmos’ frown melted into a wide grin. Below were hundreds upon thousands of dark figures. Creatures of all races roamed without direction around each other—humans, elves, dwarves, even a few species not well known to the civilized world.

Each one had black veins decorating its body and blank eyes that stared ahead, empty vessels waiting for instructions from their masters.

Fukmos twisted his hands together. “Excellent.”

“We’ve got more recruits coming from the south,” Myaris said. “From the nearby towns and villages. Our reach stretches beyond fifty miles now. They’ll keep arriving until our deed is done. The other side doesn’t stand a chance.”

Dryana nodded. “And soon we will cover the land with darkness. No matter what happens with KieraFreya, we shall win. The Goddess of Retribution cannot save the land when there is no land left to save.”

Even Fukmos joined in the laughter then. He cast his eyes over the growing army, a smug smile of satisfaction on his face. He never would have guessed he’d be able to recruit so quickly, but with the help of one sister’s infections and the other’s conversion of ghosts, the quarry was filling up fast.

Fukmos pointed out a group of a hundred or so infected and nodded to Myaris. With a nod, she stretched her hands forth, the palms glowing with black smoke.

The group’s heads raised as one, and they marched up the slope and out of the quarry. Soon they would join the others at the city gates, keeping up the relentless attack against the city walls, wearing the fighters down and never allowing the break they so needed to recover after their last attack.

Ensuring that they would be weakened and unprepared for the war when the time came.

Once more, Fukmos leered down at the army, his eyes finding monstrous creatures grazing by the far walls. He heard the cries of several more of them from afar and chuckled.

What was the one thing that would be able to break the city walls and start the kingdom’s downfall? Unbelievable muscle power, combined with the frenzied determination that only the infected could bring.

“Good. Good.” Fukmos grinned. “It is almost time."

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