I have finally begun writing this story, after much debate, I have posted this. The lines represent a new scene in this prologue. I don't think they will be used frequently throughout this story, so don't worry.
~gh0stheart~
The Souls of the Lost
Prologue: Memories of Arlen
"Are you sure this is a good idea Angel?" Arlen asked.
"Of course, would I have suggested it if it wasn't?" Angel replied.
"Yes, yes you would Angel."
"When have I ever led you wrong?" Angel told him.
"Plenty of times," Arlen replied.
There was a cold distance before Arlen spoke up.
"If we do this, we aren't going to tell Amy or Vivi," he told Angel with a thoughtful expression. His black hair falling into his face. He brushed it aside with a pale hand. No one could ever say that he wasn't Malistaires son. He had the same unusually pale skin and black hair. He also had the same high cheekbones. But he inherited his mother's kind eyes.
"I agree, Vivian would freak and Amy would probably just shake her head and say nothing, so if we do decide to tell someone, let it be Amy," Angel said with a smile. His bright blue eyes were practically twinkling with energy. His almost black hair was shoulder length and constantly got in his eyes. No matter how he had it cut it always came back to its messiness.
They were standing near the shimmering water in the commons, in the grass. It was early in the morning, the sun just barely showing its large circular ball self over the hills and walls of Wizard City. The sky was starting to turn a red color towards the bottom of the sky.
"So, how are we going to do it?" Arlen asked.
"Arlen, are you okay?" Angel asked. His friend looked sick. His pale skin was paler and his eyes were far darker than they were normally. His usually sleek hair was out of place and slightly disheveled looking. There was no response from Arlen. Angel was sitting on one of Bartleby's giant roots watching him in slight horror; he almost looked like one of those zombies things from Earth!
"Arlen!" he practically shouted. There was no sound until he watched his best friend collapse and close his eyes, looking almost at peace in the world. As a balance wizard Angel had thought about the peacefulness. But the second thing he did was try to remember what healing spells he did know. He studied death magic as a secondary school, not life. He was starting to doubt his decision. He never thought he would need to heal anyone, ever.
No one was awake at this time in the morning except the theurgists who were early risers. He wasn't sure how he would contact a life wizard, he didn't know that many, though he could remember one that might help. He grabbed his wand out of his bag that he always carried and cast a spell. A large bronze colored spark appeared from his wand. It floated for a minute ready for Angel to say his message.
'Help!' he put inside the spark as he sent it on its way. He desperately hoped that it would get to the right theurgist. He wasn't too good at that spell.
A few minutes later he saw the brown haired, brown eyed theurgist head out of the dorms. He was wearing mismatched green robes, and his hair was a mess. He moved rather quickly towards the spot that Arlen had collapsed.
"What happened?" the theurgist asked calmly.
"I don't know. He was fine yesterday, but today he walked out here and collapsed to the ground!" Angel answered in a very uncalm manner. He was panicking ever so slightly.
"Let's get to the hospital, okay?" the theurgist told Angel.
"But how? It's not their open hours yet!"
"You forget, I am a theurgist, I can come in whenever I want."
"Okay, Alexander. Just please make sure that he's okay," Angel said with a hint of sadness as he watched both Alexander and his friend disappear.
"Don't worry about me, I know I'll die. Death is not the enemy, you of all people should know that," Arlen told Angel. They were both in the hospital room, just one was in the bed hitched up to some machines and the other was sitting in a green chair beside the bed.
There was the sound of beeping, and a smile cracked around Arlens lips.
"Remember death..." Arlen said. The beeping stopped and his eyes closed. Arlen was dead.
For the first time in years, a tear ran down Angels cheek. He wanted to scream, shout, destroy, or basically cause havok, but instead he was silent and seeming calm. A theurgist intered the room and started to say the words.
"I'm so sorry..."
The exact words he never wanted to hear.
