rmkpeace
12-13-2007, 08:29 PM
Prologue
In a world not much unlike our own there is a man sitting in a dark room. One look at him and he seems to be meditating. Yet another look and some hard listening will reveal the man whispering something. To look around this dark room, which looks more and more like an attic, one would realize there is another man in the room plus a woman. Both seem intent on getting every word the Meditating Man is spewing forth.
“Four will be born,” the Meditating Man said, “while war starts to rumble. First like rolling thunder then with the crack of lighting a city will fall. There will be many deaths.”
The man and woman scribble furiously to get every word.
“The four boys will be marked for their destiny. The mark will be that of two swords crossing in the middle. This will be the mark of the Chosen Ones.”
There is a gasp in the room that emits from the woman. Chosen Ones? How will they be able to help us? They could not stop a whole army if there is a war. She stands up away from her desk to leave the room to tell the proper authorities. Before she leaves she speaks to the other man, “Rowan, do you think you can get the rest of the prophecy by yourself?”
“Yeah, just hurry back, Leena,” Rowan answered.
Only the Meditating Man and Rowan Langz are left in the dark room, this is lit only by candles, yet in the back of Rowan’s mind he feels like he is being watched. Rowan hears a revelation from the Man, “He who directs from the shadows will betray Overworld. He will use any tactic available to do so.”
Rowan is completely astounded by this new part of the prophecy that he stops writing looking at the Man with disbelief. From the shadows a figure steps into the light making one fatal sweep of his staff against Rowan’s head. Rowan didn’t feel any pain while falling into the darkness of death. The Meditating Man’s eyes flicked open at the sound of Rowan’s dead body hitting the floor.
“I figured you would have showed yourself sooner,” the Meditating Man said to a red cloaked man that was sneering down upon him.
“Where are these Chosen Ones going to be born?” the Cloaked Man demanded.
“I have no idea,” the Man replied with a smile. “Do what you came here to do.”
“With pleasure.”
The Cloaked Man took the paper that Rowan was writing on, and with a wave of a hand it flamed up and became ash. The Cloaked Man turned back toward the Meditating Man and smiled. He sent electricity through his fingers in blue spikes to the Meditating Man’s chest. The Meditating Man jolted to an upright position. The Meditating Man could feel his heart pounding in his chest while the electricity flowed through him. The pain raged like a thousand hot needles pricking him. The Meditating Man could make out the sounds of manic laughter. Then as soon as the pain started it stopped. There was nothing, just darkness and silence; he welcomed it with joy.
In a world not much unlike our own there is a man sitting in a dark room. One look at him and he seems to be meditating. Yet another look and some hard listening will reveal the man whispering something. To look around this dark room, which looks more and more like an attic, one would realize there is another man in the room plus a woman. Both seem intent on getting every word the Meditating Man is spewing forth.
“Four will be born,” the Meditating Man said, “while war starts to rumble. First like rolling thunder then with the crack of lighting a city will fall. There will be many deaths.”
The man and woman scribble furiously to get every word.
“The four boys will be marked for their destiny. The mark will be that of two swords crossing in the middle. This will be the mark of the Chosen Ones.”
There is a gasp in the room that emits from the woman. Chosen Ones? How will they be able to help us? They could not stop a whole army if there is a war. She stands up away from her desk to leave the room to tell the proper authorities. Before she leaves she speaks to the other man, “Rowan, do you think you can get the rest of the prophecy by yourself?”
“Yeah, just hurry back, Leena,” Rowan answered.
Only the Meditating Man and Rowan Langz are left in the dark room, this is lit only by candles, yet in the back of Rowan’s mind he feels like he is being watched. Rowan hears a revelation from the Man, “He who directs from the shadows will betray Overworld. He will use any tactic available to do so.”
Rowan is completely astounded by this new part of the prophecy that he stops writing looking at the Man with disbelief. From the shadows a figure steps into the light making one fatal sweep of his staff against Rowan’s head. Rowan didn’t feel any pain while falling into the darkness of death. The Meditating Man’s eyes flicked open at the sound of Rowan’s dead body hitting the floor.
“I figured you would have showed yourself sooner,” the Meditating Man said to a red cloaked man that was sneering down upon him.
“Where are these Chosen Ones going to be born?” the Cloaked Man demanded.
“I have no idea,” the Man replied with a smile. “Do what you came here to do.”
“With pleasure.”
The Cloaked Man took the paper that Rowan was writing on, and with a wave of a hand it flamed up and became ash. The Cloaked Man turned back toward the Meditating Man and smiled. He sent electricity through his fingers in blue spikes to the Meditating Man’s chest. The Meditating Man jolted to an upright position. The Meditating Man could feel his heart pounding in his chest while the electricity flowed through him. The pain raged like a thousand hot needles pricking him. The Meditating Man could make out the sounds of manic laughter. Then as soon as the pain started it stopped. There was nothing, just darkness and silence; he welcomed it with joy.