In the Land of Giants

**Prologue**

     In the long dead age, of a now long dead race, existed pygmies; Primitives who were dwarfed by the immortal Elves, the dominant race of Fraternis. Their kinds were varied and complex, counting Dwarves, Hobbits, Half-Elves, Dragonborn and Orcs among their tribes. But no race compared to the sheer number and adaptability of the Humans.

     The primitives were considered to be lesser creatures by most Elves, but were special in that they had the ability to birth gods through collective faith. The mechanisms were not totally understood, but the Elves did not care to. These primitives were farmed, nurtured and manipulated into creating powerful gods to be hunted by the Knights of the Grand Cathedral.

     As the age began its slow close, the world was torn asunder. The temperate region that would one day be known as the Tsayid empire, now bore great eruptions of lava, earthquakes, and and ever present blizzard blowing from the East. Primitive hunters in the mountains claimed to have seen great explosions in the sky, and godlike beings battling in the clouds. In this region was a furtive tribe of human savages surviving the calamities out of what seemed to be pure luck. For a year they awaited the return of their 'Angels' to come to their aid as they had always done before, but none answered their prayers.

     The primitives selected one human of their tribe who had no children nor wife, named He-Who-Watches-The-Setting-Of-The-Eastern-Sun; or Set, for short, to travel East to Heaven, the home of the Angels and beg for their aid. Set, being a young hunter of the tribe, and of the most zealous worshippers of the Angels, was honored to take on this duty. This, is his story.

**Chapter 1 of 3: He-Who-Watches-The-Setting-Of-The-Eastern-Sun**

     For 18 mornings, I traveled through the winds and snows Eastwards, arriving at the border of the highlands. I sought refuge with the Y'snor, a tribe of Hobbits that were friendly to all and speak many languages, but I found only their frozen corpses. It seems an illness befell them recently, and their pantries were still bursting with food; now spoiled. I did not eat it, as the Angels' words, which are passed down through the oral histories, told us that rotten food can carry disease, even if it tasted okay.

     The Angels are the most wondrous beings. I love them, and they love us. They bring us golden idols, and words of prayer to offer to it. The other tribes receive other idols, and other words of prayer, but the Angels tell us that ours is the most holy and should be worshipped all into the night. Our god is a god of war, named Thurifur who rides a chariot across the sky pulled by his two horses, Prisben and Kel. The Angels told us to pray, and focus on the strength of our god so he might answer our prayers.

     These words were given to my great-great grandmother, who passed them down from mother to daughter, through each generation. The Angels tried to teach them how to 'etch'; to carve shapes that mean words and can be arranged to form long stories, but we weren't very good at it. Carving or painting pictures on the cavern walls simply made more sense to the elders, but not to me. When I get to Heaven, I will ask the Angels to teach me to etch as they do on paper or stone.

     Perhaps this is why they abandoned us to the disasters of nature? Did we not worship good enough? I prayed every night, but I know She-Who-Climbs-The-Tallest-Trees only prayed when she was reminded to, even after the Angels came to heal her and her husband of their water-sickness. Perhaps it was because the Angels decided her first son was to be sacrificed to Thurifur to strengthen him? Her and her husband did not deserve the love of the Angels, I think.

     Why did the Angels not pick me to have a wife? The Angels judgment is final, and I do not question it, but I wish they could try to explain it to me why only some may marry and bear children. I wanted a son. Maybe, once they see how much I love them, they will heal the land and let me start a family?

     Perhaps they will let me see She-Who-Weaves-The-Finest-Silks while I'm in Heaven. In return for the gifts they give us, we offer them the most beautiful and skilled people of our tribe to be taken to Heaven to live among the Angels. I would love to hear her stories of how the Angels live.

     On the 19th morning, the ever-present clouds parted for a short while, and in the sky I could see a second moon that was not there before the calamities began. This moon does not give comforting dreams like the other one. This one is large and dark. It has not given me any dreams yet, but I fear they may be frightening ones.

**Chapter 2 of 3: The Black Spires of Heaven**

     After 9 mornings of walking across the ice, I began to freeze. My toes turned blue and even the thick coat of furs I wore could not keep out the cold. But then I saw it in the distance. Peeking out of the top of the ice, was Heaven! I had expected their homes to be more impressive than our wooden huts, but this was more magnificent than I'd imagined!

     At the front, it's 'huts' were made of dark stone, tall and pointed like black spears and were covered in idols of gold, depicting the Angels and all manner of creatures, most of which I did not recognize! The walls of these tall huts were decorated with long pieces of colored glass like the expensive beads of the Atu tribe, except thin, flat and taller than two men! The colored class had images of great beings, but I did not recognize any of them until I saw our god Thurifur and his horses among them! I could only imagine how tall these spear-huts must truly be, since the bottom half of the city had been buried in the ice.

     As I entered though, I became afraid. The size of the huts all around made me feel very small. Even the stairs of the many bridges were not made for someone of my size. As well, many of the huts seemed damaged- but maybe that's how they're supposed to look! The Angels work in strange ways that we can never understand. But more frightening was the emptiness. There was not a single Angel to be seen, nor any humans or others. Just ice, snow, the golden statues with their frozen tears, and I- Set.

     I decided that, when I returned home, I would change my name to He-Who-Tries-To-Understand. For the wonder if felt in those moments were as indescribable as the creations around me.

     I wandered until I saw the greatest and tallest spear-hut of all. It rose up and up and up into the clouds. And on it's side it bore a strange glass circle on it like a clay plate. The circle was green and had several smaller golden circles inside it. In the circles were golden spears that were attached in the center of the circles. The largest of the circles had two spears, and around the inside of the circle were 12 evenly spaced shapes, that I think were etchings.

     The circle was damaged, and had a hole through the middle of it. Surely this was a sign from the Angels! So I went to it. Up and up through the tall hut, I saw very strange things indeed! Furniture made for the Angels, bedding and their very clothes! I came so close to touching the clothes, but realized that it might be heresy and continued upwards. Eventually, the things within the hut became so confusing that my head hurt, and I closed my eyes as I climbed the stairs.

     Eventually, I got to giant circle on the wall, which was so much bigger than I had even imagined it. The broken thin glass was everywhere and cut through my shoes, making my foot bleed. Surely dirtying the floor with my filthy blood would have been heresy, but I had no time to clean it, as I was distracted by what lay against the wall opposite from the green circle.

     Laying on the ground was an Angel, clutched in the arms of a human!

     I approached slowly, but the human woman did not look at me. She only cried and cried into the Angel. The Angel in her arms was naked, and had very pale skin. They were covered in red blood, and had bloody and empty eye holes. A thought came over me that the Angel might be dead, but it passed quickly. Surely the Angel is just sleeping, and I am the chosen one to wake her up!

     I came closer, and the human woman began to cry and yell at me. Her language was similar to my tribe's but also different. I could only understand some of what she said. She said "She is dead'. Ridiculous. I told her "She is only sleeping. Angels can't die!" but she didn't understand me and kept crying. She said "The other Angel did this. They fought" at least that's what I think she said. "The Crow!" She pointed at the hole in the green glass circle. But outside was just the air, high above Heaven, and there were no crows, nor any other birds for that matter.

     I reached to the Angel, and touched her to wake her up. But she was cold and not moving. I touched her neck, and the heart did not beat. She was dead. The Angel was truly dead. If another Angel did this... why? Why would the Angels kill another Angel?

     I decided to go to the very top of the hut to look for answers.

**Chapter 3 of 3: He-Who-Cries-The-Largest-Tears**

     I continued up an up the hut. Past large rooms full of strange gems and crystals. Past an empty one with a broken, indescribable 'thing' of metal and stone that seemed to take strings and weave it into fabrics.

     Up and up, higher I went. Until I reached the top. The ceiling and wall of the room at the top was missing, and pieces of it lay all across the floor. In the room, on various hooks, tables and broken glass boxes, were strange objects. One was the jawbone of some giant beast. An eyeball as big as my torso submerged in purple water. A piece of hide covered in large stone scales. Each had etchings on a golden plate in front, but I could not understand them. But in the corner of the room, in a glass box that was not broken, I found something horrible.

     Two gigantic horse skulls, and the enormous white wheel off of a chariot. The chariot wheel was most certainly the same as on Thurifur's idols. This was Thurifur's chariot wheel. And the skulls were Prisben and Kel. They killed God, and took this as a trophy. The other things were almost certainly trophies from other gods.

     How could this be? I fell to my knees at the edge of the tower and yelled to the thick clouds above. Why!? Why? The tears froze to my face as they ran down my cheeks. And then, I heard a booming sound from the sky. The crack of lightning. A storm.

     Looking up, I saw bolts of lighting fill the sky and illuminate the clouds. Then, streaks of blackness like smoke. The wind picked up and through the lighting I could see it clearly. Two Angels, in strange armor, fighting each other in the clouds. One struck with a spear of lightning, and the other followed by a cape of blackness. With each of their blows, the wind grew stronger and pieces of ice in the distance were tossed into the air.

     It was true. The Angels were fighting. The earthquakes, and the storms. The eruptions, and the spread of illness. The fires in the sky and the quietness of the gods. All because of the Angels.

     I realized that my quest was hopeless. And for the first time realized that my tribe was probably all dead already.

     And so, I, now named He-Who-Cries-The-Largest-Tears, cast myself from the Angel's spear-hut and to my demise.