It was a story passed down for centuries, told around the holofire and given with the morality lesson to never do bad. That, at least, was what Evester took out of the stories of The Catastrophe. When his sister, Europa, cried herself to sleep those night and their brother Endwin tried to comfort her, Evester saw it as nothing more than a lesson for bad children. One day the end would come and none would be able to stop it. The earth would shake their towers and demons would rise from the deep the destroy them all.
It was supposed to be a story, so why was he wiping sweat from his forehead colored yellow in the blood of the Aralax he had killed? Why was there another standing before him ready to attack? Why was he atop the LowerLands, searching for anyone that could help him or a way into the UnderCities to make sure he found a specific girl? Why was he, a Circle, there on the commoners ground? Why had his home, his life, been destroyed? How was he facing a monster out of his sister’s worst nightmares: burly and alien, red, scaled, with six arms and yellow blood with a screeching voice like a screaming violin and burning red eyes?Continue