Chronicles of the Atlas

Prologue

Snow thrusted them further and further back, and it seemed every step they took only sent them back two. It ripped into their clothes, numbing them to the bone. Their leathers were useless out here.

"It's not much further" the voice was faint in the rumbling and raging of the storm. They'd come so far. With every step they sank further into the ground, their hearts heavy with the load of the journey. All they could see was murky grey sky ahead, but they knew.

They moved quicker now, the anticipation wrapping around them. Wary eyes scanned everything that moved, every streak of white, every breeze.

They had given up everything on a whim, and it didn't seem like the whim wasn't worth it. "We're dead!" The desperate cry came from ahead. "It's all your fault! We should've never come here!" the rhythm of the steps slowed to a halt.

Before any of them knew what was going on, knives were unsheathed. The roaring of threats competed with the temper of the blizzard. "Take us back!" "We're traitors!"

The wind swirled around the lost souls, whispering dark things to them. A fist was swung, and before they could think, blood was spilling into the grey abyss underfoot, making their boots sheen with red.

Chaos had corrupted them all. The fear of the unknown, and being considered traitors-that was what pushed them all over the edge of sanity.

But a few were still hanging on to dear life, running away, not stopping, even for a moment-for they were afraid they would see the matted bodies littering the ground, or the wild look in the eyes of those left fighting.

Some ran back the way they had came, and others vied for the path they had been following.

They had been warned of this. But that didn't prepare them in any way.

The few ran and ran, the intense aroma of death forcing their aching muscles to push on. Streams of hot breath flowed into the thin air. They ran and ran until they had collapsed in the snow, feeling it burning and stinging in their lungs.

No words came. They were now less than half of what they had left with. The loss had ruined them beyond recollection. But they had been through so much, it would be a waste to give up. One rose up, head hanging low.

"We have to finish this." Another stood, barely reaching the others stature. "We can't now." the voice was riddled with misery and abandoned hope. "It's gone. Even if we did make it, we'd die before it could mean a thing."

The taller one clenched his teeth, hissing a curse under his breath. "Then we will keep moving on. And we will get back." The determination in those words were hidden on the surface, but deeper inside they all knew it was impossible.

Then slowly, one by one, the broken souls rose from the snow. And torn, shattered and hopeless-they moved on, towards the only thing they had left.