Prologue
1244 A.D.
The howl of wind has abruptly stopped leaving an unearthing silence in its wake . Occasionally a wave of water graced the feet of the three men who stood on the brink of the cursed river. No living man magical or non-magical had ever been able to cross it. The river was supposed to be haunted by the demons. Even the knights gave the river a wide berth, but their were rumors of a place free of the non-magical folks on the other to the perilously fast current swimming across was clearly over. Many men had lost their live in this daring task.
"What shall we do? We just can't return back to the village without some hope after they had entrusted us to lead them."
"But to go across guarantees death. We must not take the risk."
"What is life if we live everyday in fear of death. It is just not dying and the people back in village are not going to be happy if we return without the promise of a new place."
"One thing is for sure we can't turn back after we had come so far but we need to test the dangers of the river before crossing."
Brandishing his wand the eldest of the three transfigured the nearby lying log to a crude raft. With a light prod from the wand the raft began it's journey across.
With each wave the raft came perilously close to toppling. Only the magic made it possible to move further. As the raft approached the middle of the river huge waves started to crash over it from all directions. The magic holding the bindings began to weaken. Sensing the demise of the craft the eldest brother increased the magic holding the bindings but the waves had started to fall over and over it with alarming ferocity as if another power was in play. The raft was intact because of the magic but due to the multiple brutish attacks the source of its protection, the wand began to show signs of strain. Thin cracks began to appear on the wand as the nature and magic clashed for dominance. Knowing the inevitable outcome and to protect his wand the eldest brother stopped the incantation. As soon as the protection lifted the raft broke into pieces and sank to the bottom of the river.
For several minutes the brothers meditated in themselves of what to do next. An idea has begun to form in the second brother mind. With a slash of his wand a branch from a nearby tree broke. Another swish and the lying branch transfigured to a broomstick which began its journey across. No sooner had it reached midway that the wind picked up its pace dangerously. The brutal assault of the wind made the broom go awry from its path. The second brother didn't even try to use his magic to correct the course having seen the fate of the eldest brother wand.
Having been thwarted in their attempts they were beginning to lose hope. The fate of the folks back in village depended on their success. On an impulse, a brilliant idea came in the mind of the youngest brother.
"Let's make a bridge."
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Till next time, Adios