In the distant past, there was a peaceful and beautiful age known as "Benor." However, the ambitions of a greedy and powerful man led to the deaths of the Navia, the Chosen Ones, who had the power to control the holy beasts. The holy beasts, now masterless, reverted to demonic creatures known as Maseitais. And they turned their fangs upon the humans....

The city is in flames. People race through the streets, as much in danger from the press of bodies as from the burning buildings.

Masaru ducks into a doorway to escape the mob. His chest heaves as he tries unsuccessfully to catch his breath. He staggers, placing a trembling hand on the doorframe in an effort to remain upright.

His shop is gone. Dried fruits and nuts, herbs and spices, oils and flowers from a dozen kingdoms - all gone.

The door opens, throwing Masaru back into the fleeing mass. He somehow manages to keep his feet, forced to follow along with the panicked mob. It will be all right. They are headed in the right direction. Away from the destruction and carnage. Away from what should have been their hope and salvation. Away from their protector.

Away from the Holy Beast.

This should not be happening! Lord Kiggoshi is our guardian. Why has he turned on us? Navia Hashima....

Navia Hashima is dead. Masaru's blood turns to ice. It is the only explanation. What can not be, is. Navia Hashima had been killed. Lord Kiggoshi is unbound. He is Maseitai.

Masaru fights through the crowd and turns at the next side street. The people are fewer here, he makes better time. He has to get home. Leela is still in recovery from the pains of birth. She and little Kaguri are in no condition to flee. He has to get to them, has to....

There is a deep rumble as a heavy weight shakes the very foundation of the street. A large shadow falls across Masaru's path. He skids to a halt and looks up.

There, not a block away stands Lord Kiggoshi. The guardian turned demon is fifty feet tall, his alien visage showing no emotion as his eyes sweep the very street where Masaru stands, frozen in shock. The few people near to him dash away screaming as the giant Maseitai raises its massive staff.

Masaru can not move. His mind screams in alarm, but muscles paralyzed by fear refuse to listen.

The staff swings up in a lazy arc.

What about your wife - your baby!

The enormous arm begins to descend.

Leela! Kaguri! Concern for his family jolts Masaru into action. He races for the end of the street. He can make it, he can escape....

The staff collides with the surrounding buildings, throwing heavy wooden beams and foundation stone into the air as easily as a child toppling blocks. A large boulder catches Masaru in the shoulder, spinning him about, sending him headfirst into crumbled stone wall.

Pain explodes through him. The world tilts and spins. He expects it all to end. He is surprised when it does not.

His eyes refocus on the Maseitai. The staff is sweeping back. Masaru knows the next blow will finish him.

The staff halts mid-swing as a flash of orange appears at Lord Kiggoshi's side. The blurred image resolves into the form of a second Maseitai. Nergalgamesh rams his bladed bracers into Lord Kiggoshi, gutting the city's former guardian like a fisherman cleaning fish. Lord Kiggoshi explodes.

Masaru is covered in a rain of gore. He ignores it, fighting instead to regain his feet. Lord Kiggoshi wasn't a fighter. His power came from the mystical, so his physical damage to the city, though devasting due to his betrayal, was measured - avoidable. Nergalgamesh is something else entirely. Born only to kill, the warrior Maseitai will soon reduce the city to rubble, never stopping until each and every human has been killed. Masaru has to get away. He drags himself along the street.

Nergalgamesh turns his direction.

Red streaking lights appear in the sky, drawing the Maseitai's attention. Masaru finds his own eyes drawn unavoidably to the sight. A black form coalesces in the gloom. It is vaguely humanoid in appearance, its bright red eyes its only discernable feature in the shifting smoke that rises from the city. Masaru is certain he is hallucinating. How can something living be so large? It dwarfs even the Maseitai....

The blackness shifts. The figure begins to spin. Smoke and flame, dust and debris rise in a massive whirlwind. Red lightning arcs through the violent winds. Entire buildings are vaporized. Nergalgamesh gives a token resistance and then is gone. Masaru screams out to his wife and child, but his words are lost in the gale. In a moment, he too is gone.

Kunos the Wise watches from across the Bay of Tranquility as the rampaging tornado rages through the city of Hadriim. The spinning force stops abruptly. The colossal form of the black figure straddles the city, rivaling even the distant mountains in size. Red beams of pure destruction sweep from its eyes, hastening the destruction of the already burning city.

"How can this be?" he asks. "Zuruvan, the Ultimate Maseitai, has been resurrected. He won't cease his destruction until the very last living thing has been wiped from the land. Everything - humans, animals, even plants - all will fall to his wrath."

Kunos turns to the three women standing near him. Their eyes are intent on the devastation.

"He is approaching this place, coming to destroy you three - the last surviving Navia. Do you understand?"

The three women look to the star-shaped crack at the center of the Summoning Circle. There is no spoken word, but a ripple of power shakes the Plateau of Ritual. The Obelisk of Binding rises obediently from its resting place within the stone foundation of the Temple of the Rock. It seems they do understand. They are willing to make the sacrifice. But Kunos has to be sure it will be enough.

"Unless you unleash your gyullas crystals beyond their safe limits you will die in vain."

The Navia take their places at the vertices of the Circle.

"We are prepared," speaks Analyia.

In unison the three stretch forth their hands. Azure light gathers at their fingertips.

"We shall gamble our lives to seal away the Maseitais," says Grettan.

The intensity of the light about their hands increases. Kunos watches critically as beams of light lance from outstretched fingers. The power level has to be just right. Beams collide and the Navia are joined by a blue triangle of force. They cry out in unison.

"By performing the Juuban ritual!"

Zuruvan came at them from across the bay. Hadriim was some distance from the Temple of the Rock, but the Maseitai crossed that distance at a thought. The monks of the temple are waiting for him.

Wielding disks of gyullas crystal, charged for battle by the Navia, the monks throw themselves at the approaching demon in an attempt to hold him off. They launch the disks at the monster with practiced precision. Each missile strikes its target with unerring accuracy, exploding to release its destructive energy.

It is for naught. Zuruvan is no more affected by the attack than an elephant plagued by mosquitoes. The monks are obliterated by one swipe of the Maseitai's arm. But they have done their job. They delayed the demon just long enough.

The Obelisk glows with absorbed energy. It begins to spin, faster and faster. The eyes of the Navia fly open. Their holy symbols extend towards the vortex, drawn by the gathering energy. The Obelisk vibrates with the force of the spell. With a great rush, it streaks heavenward, trailing brilliant blue light in its wake. There is a moment of pause, a calm of crystalline clarity in which all of creation holds its breath.

It lasts but an instant.

The Temple of the Rock erupts in blinding white light, exploding from every window. Zuruvan is caught by its intensity, trapped in its radiant majesty. He roars in defiance, but cannot withstand the divine power. There is a ripple, and he is gone.

The light pulses a final time and disappears. The Navia are thrown to their knees. The ritual is complete. But it comes with a terrible price. The Temple of the Rock is unable to bear the strain. It crumbles around them. Drained of their strength, they are powerless to act. The temple succumbs, falling into the sea.

By performing the Juuban ritual, the "Final Dratp," the three women sealed all of the Maseitais away, at the cost of their own lives. Time passed, the planet locked inside of thick ice. Sinful people survived. Cycles of prosperity, war and peace came and went, until thousands of years had passed.

(to be continued...)