Prologue

A Chapter by Strivion

Now the story begins!

Prologue

The young man paced impatiently by the towering black iron doors, his crimson cape swaying back and forth on the grayish marble floor with his steps. He found the clock’s constant ticking annoying, as well as an irritable reminder on the time he was wasting. How rude! He thought to himself, asked to have arrived promptly at midnight, and to be kept waiting for over an hour! This had better be good, or he just might let slip to his superiors this man’s shady dealings.

The iron doors creaked, he stopped pacing immediately. A pale, thin young man emerged, wearing a black cloak; it was badly worn and smelt horribly musky.

"My master, Urthos, is ready to see you," he sneered, looking at him from over his crooked nose.

"About time!" the guest said hotly, "Timing apparently isn't a strong point of his I see." his tone rich with disrespect.

The servant was taken aback at this man’s hostility, wondering to himself how his master would have responded to this man’s lack of respect if he had heard him.

"This way..." the servant replied coldly.

Barely having opened the door enough to let himself through, the servant was forcibly pushed aside by the other as he stormed passed. He followed suit, rushing in after him desperately trying to appear he was in control so he wouldn’t be scorned by his master; and how he feared him... They made their way into the study.

It was situated at the top of an ancient and forgotten tower, surrounded by a vast forest overlooking the black sea, unseen by the outside world. The walls were lined with shelves that looked as though they were on the verge of collapsing with the weight of the countless books and tomes they bore. The marble floor was covered in rugs; sheep skin, bear, wolf, and some other form that he didn’t recognize, but based on the shape, he didn’t want to know. There were tables adorned with old and odd looking devices, devices of glass and oil, some of them had small flickering flames burning eternally in them, red flames, green flames, purple and black. The black stone walls that were spared the immense weight of the books were draped with tapestries and banners sewn of thick purple fabric with a black trimming and an image of a black flame embroidered in the centre. And there, at the far back of the room, sat at the darkly polished wooden desk, was him. The very man that had instructed the guest to come and meet this, Urthos, was in fact the one sitting at the desk.

"Master Urthos, Na-" the man at the desk, not stopping to look up from his papers, waved an irritated hand that gestured for silence.

The servant bowed nervously and slipped out of the room, closing the heavy iron doors so quietly that they seemed to be made of air. The guest stood there in an awkward silence for a moment, just looking at Urthos while his pen was gliding effortlessly across his parchment.

"So... where is that hot tongue of yours?" Urthos asked slowly, finally looking up from his papers. “I get it, you didn’t expect me to be the one behind the desk, after all, I did tell you to meet someone else here, though I never told you exactly who this Urthos was.” The man stood from his seat, passing the moonlit window as he walked around his desk to approach his visitor. As he walked through the moonlight, a shimmering rain seemed to fall away from him. His crimson armor (which was much like the visitor’s) melted away, revealing thick black robes. His once bronzed skin was now a ghostly white; his hair was drained of its color and hung lifeless from his withered scalp. His face was badly scared, and he wore an eye patch over his left eye. The guest felt a horrible chill come over him, as if some spectral being had slid its hand up his spine, and latched its icy fingers around it, ripping the very warmth of his blood away.

"I- uh-"

"What's the matter boy, lost that nerve of yours have you? Or have you spent it all outside on my servant, Lendham?" asked Urthos. "Well, sit down then..." as he said this, a chair slid across the room and forced itself under the guest, forcing him to sit. Urthos walked back around to his desk, again passing through the moonlight; his visitor expecting another transformation as he passed through, but the man remained the grotesque image that he had become.

Fear took hold of the visitor in the moments that he had fallen forcibly into his seat. He readjusted, making sure he wasn't bound to the chair, in finding that he wasn’t the sudden fear dissolved.

"You called for me," said the visitor, the presence of politeness finding its way to his voice.

Urthos’s lips formed into a twisted smile, his eye gleaming over his work and straight through him. "Yes, I have a proposal for you. A mutually beneficial arrangement I think you'll find." His eye flared even brighter now.

"-gulp- What can I do for you?" he asked hesitantly, not sure at all where this was going.

"There is something you have, well, something your people guard that I want access to.

The seated man thought for a moment, puzzled. "… The vault?! In what could you possibly be interested in there?" he asked, confusion clenching his voice.

As far as he was aware, the vault held nothing of great value, just documents and a few old magical trinkets, and judging by the contents of this man’s study, there couldn’t be many other things of that particular nature that he could possibly need.

"That isn't important... What I want is my business," he said calmly.

"I'm not sure how I can be of assistance. The vault doors are a guarded at all times and sealed by enchantments, it's not like I can slip in and stea-"

"You misunderstand me, my dear boy," he interrupted, "What I want is access. Besides, you will be back on vault duty soon anyway... What I have in mind can be done on one of your shifts, and it is in such a way that you would not be incriminated, so you needn’t fear the repercussions.”

The visitor looked at him, curiosity flaring in his young green eyes as another thought formed on his tongue. "Incriminated?" the word fell from his lips in slow agony. "Incriminated? What could I be incriminated with?” he stopped, and focused intently on Urthos, whose pale lips were twisting into a malicious smile. He instantly knew what he was thinking, as if their minds were now sharing the thought.

Urthos stood up from his desk and walked to the window just behind it. The moons were high in the sky now, and casting their pale light into the study, bringing in their cold and unearthly chill. He turned around to face his guest, still smiling.

"All I need from you... Is a little bit of tampering, that is all." His eye burned with resolution, and his smile faded from his stern face. "And I will take care of the rest."

"That would mean-"

"I'm well aware of what it means..."

"What makes you think I would allow this? What makes you think that I won’t turn you in for the traitor you are!"

"Hahahaha! Don't insult my intelligence boy! I know what lurks within that twisted black little heart of yours!" he sneered through his teeth. "You would see them all fall to raise yourself but a step higher! And you call me a traitor? I'm merely acting on the thoughts you've so long harbored in secret."

The visitor sat in silence, mixed with fear, curiosity, embarrassment...

"... You mentioned... that this was mutually beneficial..."

Urthos smiled evilly, and walked over to a chest that was sat on a table, not far from where his guest was sitting.

"I have something you want, more than anything else you have desired this..." He opened it and took out a small black velvety bag. "Power."

The young man thought on this for a long moment, it felt as if the world had stopped spinning and nothing else existed but the other man's eye, staring deeply into him, with that penetrating gaze.

“What is in the bag?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Just some chalk-stone, of my own formula,” Urthos began, “when you next guard the vault, take a piece and mark a line across the door. Don’t worry, the mark will fade in moments and it will dispel the seal.”

"What of the others?” he asked, his voice hinting at traces of hesitation and worry.

"What do you think...?” Urthos replied, that vicious glint in his eye returning and burned right through. “I have no need of them. They are as a wick to its flame, once their purpose is served their lights will fade, and I will have what I need.”

“What of when you have no use for me? Will I be extinguished as well?” the young man asked, fear had caught hold of him, doubt, and mistrust of this man’s word.

“Don’t fill your petty mind with worries… I may have use for you yet, so long as you remain useful, you shall remain… alight…”

The visitor’s nerve was growing even frailer with every moment he sat there, “Very well…”

prev chapter