Apparently, I wasn’t unconscious long, because I was still flying upward when I came to. I struggled to free myself but the talons buried into my shoulders made me scream in pain as the world dropped further and further below me. I saw the boundary of the trail of destruction the army had left. Tears formed in my eyes north from the pain and the loss. I stopped struggling and hung limp as I was taken higher and higher above the clouds.

I stared upward and saw the creature that had taken me. Its face was long and angular. Its enormous wings made me gasp as they pushed through the air. The animal had legs like a chicken but much larger, with talons as large as my head. The creature looked like it was made of rock, but I knew it for what it was.

I had been taken by a gargoyle—a creature of the sky. Moisture formed on me and a chill ran through my body as we soared through the clouds. I had been caught by a gargoyle. I knew I was already dead.

Several long and painful minutes later the upward rise slowed. I gasped as the talons released. I plummeted and fell, only to pass out.

I regained consciousness, and stumbled to my feet. The motion caused a stab of pain in my shoulders. My vision cleared and I saw the blood stains in my shirt. Gingerly, I pulled the cloth that had caked against the wounds free. My head spun from the loss of blood. I dropped to sit and take stock of my situation.

I had landed in a field of rubble that rose on every side. Among the stones and small boulders, bones and remains of gristle and flesh peppered the landscape. Where was I? I pushed myself off the ground, and stumbled forward. I turned and stopped when I saw the large stone structures that had been behind me. Terror gripped me. I was in the gargoyle’s nest and stood in front of three eggs that loomed over me.

I ran across the nest’s clutter to peer over the edge. I shrank back. My head spun and my stomach felt like it fell to the distant ground. I’d never been higher than an apple tree. The land and farms below were a multicolored patched quilt. I saw no tree supporting the gargoyle’s nest. Nor did I see the gargoyle., but I knew it would return. The eggs in the center of the nest drew my attention again. Sounds came from the two closest to me. I knew I’d have more than one gargoyle to deal with. The sounds grew louder and despite their weight and size, the eggs shifted.

I dashed past the eggs to the far edge of the nest where a large stone wall stood. I saw that a small outcropping in the wall supported the nest. I stared up. The wall soared skyward as far as I could see.

Many had spoken of seeing gargoyles in the distance, but none in my now non-existent village had ever see what I saw. No one had mentioned a wall to the sky. But here it was and so was I. I was far from home. Loud sounds from the eggs startled me back to my predicament. I saw no way up. I glanced down the wall. I saw no way down. I considered dropping down the wall, but even though there were frequent stone outcroppings, I doubted I had the strength to maneuver my way to the ground far below.

A sudden loud crack brought my attention back to the eggs. A large crevice had formed in one as it rocked back and forth. The second still made sounds but showed no such crack. I grabbed the sword, I’d found, and my dagger. If I were to get down, I’d first have to deal with the gargoyles.

Scene 3

I struggled along. My stomach growled. After a day of moving through the ruins I finally came to th edge of the army’s path. I never knew how much I had missed the grass, trees, and birds until I saw them in the distance. I doubled my pace, eager to be out of the desolation. Soon, I moved through knee-high brush, reveling in the feel and scents of the aliveness around me. I had heard my parents—the thought of never seeing them again clenched my stomach—I had heard my parents talk of a town in the direction I walked. I’d never been outside my village, but I didn’t care except that I had no home to return to, and no parents. I’d heard of people without parents. Now, I was one of them. My friends were gone. The apple orchard where I would occasionally steal an apple was gone. No more would I hear the crowd at the inn on a Saturday night. Although, my father wouldn’t allow me to drink, he would on occasion allow me to come with him. I miss my father.

Searing pain gripped me by the shoulders. Suddenly, I was flying upward. In a panic I glanced upward, breaking out of my self-pity. The large angular body above me flew higher, flapping its bat-like wings. I had been taken by a gargoyle, a creature of the sky. Higher and higher it flew, its talons gripping my shoulders. Blood fell to disappear below me. I grew weak as the creature flew ever upward. The world around me grew red then black as I passed out from the pain. It didn’t matter. I knew I was already dead.

Scene 2

I moved slowly as hunger set in. I scanned the devastation, searching for anything edible. I clutched the sword in my hand, ready to strike anything that might jump or scamper across my path. Nothing did.

The day passed as slowly as I made my way across the army’s trail. The rain had eased to a fine drizzle, but the large puddled remained having filled in the giant footsteps made by the rooks. They were small ponds that littered the land now. My mind drifted and wandered as I struggled to remain awake as made my way. I was startled to reality as a small lizard ran across my path. I cursed. It was too fast to catch. I stood watching as it raced away. My stomach growled. “I know. I’m hungry too,’ I grumbled. The lizard stopped and looked back at me as if taunting me to give chase. A moment later it ran off.

A sound like metal scraping on rock drew my attention. I froze. There it was again. I hadn’t imagined it. Gripping my newfound weapon tighter, I took cautious steps toward the sound, being careful not to make noises of my own. The sword, I held point-first in front of me trailblazing the way.

The sound repeats, over and over—redundantly like an axe being sharpened on a stone. Approaching with as much caution as I could muster, I’m unsure what I’m about to encounter. What I find causes me to stop in wonder.

My name is Paladian. I’m the son of a farmer’s son. Now, as I survey the trampled landscape, what I am doesn’t matter, or more accurately, has no meaning. Frantically, I scan the destruction around me for my father—a large terse man, and my mother a slip of a woman with a determination of steel.

My calls turn to screams of despair. But even the silence has no echo. I stare. The small things—the living town of buildings, farms, a small inn and all of the people have been replaced by flattened rubble and debris. I stumble, dazed searching for my parents, as I leave the remains of our house and home into what used to be the Main Street. I’m aghast. Even the trees have been pulverized into small splinters of wood.

The rain pummels down on me dripping off me to drill small holes in the mud at my feed. The sound of the rain thunders in my ears the way my pain, despair and blood roars in rage.

The Darkness rolled over the hills and farms the way storm clouds had the day before. The Black Army moved methodically and with deliberate intent across the countryside. The people of Starhaven, my town, fled before the onslaught. Those who remained were mercilessly slaughtered. No one could stand before the vast army. But before the slaughter came the terror and realization that the army was proceeded by the Purple Rooks. Each rook, was as large as a small mountain that moved mechanically before the sword and shield bearing humans. Seeing a rook in the wild was one thing. But when the knowledge hit that these purple rooks were being led and controlled by a single man, caused panic and despair among what populace remained.

Many simply fell prostrate onto the ground as if praying to the huge magical automatons. Whether prostrate or not, the army spared no one. All were killed or crushed by the rooks. No one was prepared or able to resist. Not even my parents who, in a panic, shoved me into a small cubby hole in our root cellar.

I heard their screams as the home above me was flattened by the carnage of the Purple Rooks. I sat cowering and crying, unable to think or move. The darkness around me was filled with the noise of the destructive and deadly stomping. I sat for hours, afraid to move. It felt like an eternity as the earth shook around me.

Then, there was silence. Dust filled my nostrils threatening a sneeze, but I fought it, as I was afraid of alerting the army and the rooks. Eventually, I fought and dug my way out of the cellar through the debris and of collapsed and crushed stone and timbers.

I stood and stared at what remained of my town and home—a flattened and barren plain. All the houses, the people, were gone or killed. Even the trees were gone, crushed under the feet of the Purple Rooks. In desperation, I ran calling and searching, screaming for my parents. That is where my story begins.