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Prologue for the Zodiac Chronicles |
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Prologue
It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, the town of Dajam was sleeping peacefully all warm and snug in their beds.
Now the None, hideous shape-shifters, ran rampant through the streets, destroying buildings and lighting them aflame. People ran this way and that, trying to fight off the None or trying to escape to safety.
In the town square, a woman stood, wearing a flowing black robe with scarlet trimming. Her features, though flawless and beautiful, looked amused, even pleased at the terror around her, thrown into shock relief by the burning buildings. She held an old wooden staff with the runes and glyphs of the Timeless Ones carved into the surface.
She clapped the staff on the ground and the None stopped. Four of the shape-shifters came foward, each holding a person, two men and two women, who were struggling against their captor's grip, but to no avail.
"Well, if it isn't the Celestial Protectors," she sneered, looking at each one in the eye. "You and your past lives have been a thorn in my side for far too long."
She spoke an incantation in the tongue of the Timeless Ones. The symbols and runes on the staff glowed a sickly green colour, pulsing with magik.
"Larissa, you can't do this!" shouted one of the men being held by the None. He was shod in light, blue and green armour and bright blue trident was slung across his back. He had shaggy brown hair and hazel eyes which, at this point, blazed with fury.
"My dear Xander," the woman said, her voice now silky and quiet. "I think I can."
She spoke another word and made a single sweeping motion with her staff and the four Protectors, were engulfed by the sickly green light. They crumpled to their knees and fell to the ground lifelessly.
The woman, Larissa, turned to the ruin town and her army of None. "The Celestial Protectors are dead!" she shouted triumphantly. "Now the rest of Kelowna will fall before our might! It will be ours!"
The None replied with a flurry of roars, shrieks and other fearsome sounds.
In the midst of all this, four will-o-wisps appeared over the bodies of the fallen Protectors, each one a different colour: Red, blue, green and white. They spun rapidly in a ring and, one by one, shot off into the sky.
Far off in the Forests of Craven, an old man by the name of Sifu sat at the mouth of a cave. He watched the comets streak through the night sky and disappear. He stroked his stark white goatee thoughtfully and stood. He took his walking stick, which was leaning against the cave wall and went farther inside to look at the mural that was drawn at the back of the cavern.
It showed the coloured fire shooting through the sky, as well as five animals moving running the land, as if racing the comets: A bull, a ram, a falcon and two fish swimming in a river.
"It's begun." he whispered to himself.
That was a century ago. In that time, the world of Santhash has been smothered by a blanket of darkness, with Larissa ruling with an iron fist.
 Pamplemousse Grenouille · Wed Jan 10, 2007 @ 09:14pm · 5 Comments |
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