Disclaimer: this is for the rest of the story. I own nothing. Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling who though I envy greatly and wish I had her imagination, talent, and, most of all, money, would not disrespect her and take credit for her works. I would also like to mention that the idea of the Dark and Light thing comes from David Eddings books and also doesn't belong to me. I just liked the concept. And some concepts also came from Janny Wurts series (who is THE best author around) The Wars of Light and Shadows. But most of this is my own idea. I am very sorry if it seems similar to other people's fics, but I came up with this idea myself and haven't taken it from anyone else. Now…on with the fic, and if you want to you can review (which would be appreciated)
PROLOGUE
The teacher continued speaking to her mismatched class, oblivious to the mock duel occurring in the back seats of the classroom.
"…to seers there are no such things as dark and light. Both are essential to life. If there was no dark, then how could light exist? It would not. There would be no way to define the darkness, as nobody would ever have known it. And the same goes for the light. They are two parts of the whole. A balance must always be maintained between the two. If something happens to the dark, something of equal magnitude must happen to the light, and vice versa. The dark of old and the light…"
A ceremony of some kind is taking place. In a clearing in a forest three people stand before a male and from all their right wrists blood is dripping. Many others surround them. Another person steps forward and the ritual starts again…
In another class elsewhere…
A man walks down the aisles of students who are all staring intently into their bowls of water, murmuring words and occasionally writing down notes. He praises each of them as he passes.
"Well done Benson. I can see that you have deciphered the first part of the puzzle. Good. Now try looking at the next two lines of the riddle and following the line of thought of the two you decoded, see if you can discover what they are saying…"
"Excellent Miss Johnson! You've already managed to conjure images relating to your prophecy…Is that a man and a child? And they seem to be flying through the air on clouds? Yes? You are on the right track then… "
He continues in this fashion until he reaches the last desk in the last row. The student seated here is muttering feverishly, then peering into his bowl before frowning, frustrated, at his notes.
"And what, pray tell Mr Jones, are you doing? Don't tell me you're still hooked on that ridiculous child's rhyme!"
As the student hung his head shamefully, the teacher continues angrily.
"I have already told you! That rhyme is not a prophecy! There are some things that are prophecies and some things that are not and a child's rhyme is certainly included in the 'not' category! Now kindly do some real work like the rest of your colleagues!" he added tartly.
The other students grinned sympathetically as the chastised student emptied and refilled his bowl and crumpled up his notes…
A ring of dark-robed people stands around a tall hooded man. The air is musty, and all would be dark if not for the dim light coming from the grimy ceiling. The tall man whispers in a sinister voice that makes even his followers shiver, as he unfolds his plan for them to hear, and they discover just how far he wants to go…
An old man sits in a bed. Since the attack he cannot move much for fear of reactivating the curse that drains his power and sanity, turning him into a mindless zombie to be controlled by the enemy that looks no different from the outside…
A young man sits on his bed and cries out the pain in his heart as he mourns the mother and grandmother lost in an attack by followers of the Dark Lord. His foster brother stands outside his door and weeps also; for the pain of losing those as close to blood to him as anyone will ever be, and for the pain his best friend is going through…