Well, here it is. At long last it's begun! "The Vanishing Glass" – Part One. It has been delayed countless times due to exams, deaths, vacations, and, most recently, a vicious combination of laziness and writer's block. I'd like to thank my #1 greatest inspiration and pal, Fox Goddess, for getting me out of this rut!
Now, I do realize that this is very short. It's only a prologue! I have been avoiding writing chapter one because the plot is still developing. But it's coming along at an alarming rate. I just had the inspiration to write a prologue while talking to my aforementioned muse, and I figured, what the hell! Maybe people will become interested enough to wait for my story!
Anyways, when you read this short piece, don't assume you know who I'm writing about! I guarantee you that you will not know until the very end. Speculate all you want – I'm not giving anything away. Well, on with it!
*****
The Vanishing Glass
Prologue
A cold, damp room lay deep beneath the surface of a castle, invisible to Muggle eyes. A circular room, its walls a dull stone grey, lay empty – except for a mahogany writing desk, set in the centre. Standing behind the desk was a man with a commanding presence. He was by no means a tall, handsome, or impressive-looking man, but his appearance demanded a certain respect all the same. And he stared down at the piece of parchment lying on the mahogany desk, reading it with a troubled expression. Looking into the man's eyes would give no indication as to what he was thinking then, for he was a man who had learned to conceal his thoughts and emotions well over the long years he had lived.
Presently, there was a knock on the tall wooden door. The man reluctantly lifted his eyes from the parchment and called in a strong voice, "Enter."
The door opened, and three young men in deep green robes entered the room. The first had his hood drawn back, but it fell over his tiny dark head as he bowed. The other two came shuffling in, carrying a short, wide paper package between them. It must have been incredibly heavy, for it tipped and threatened to drop with each step they took. The dark man bowed again and drew back his hood. "Sir," he muttered, "sir, it is here." His voice shook and he never allowed himself to make eye contact with the man behind the mahogany desk. The dark man stepped out of the way, and the two carrying the heavy package stood still, straining with the weight. The man behind the desk looked them over carefully. After a long while he spoke.
"Place it here on the table, then." The two men with the package did so gratefully, and backed out of the room with a bow. The tiny dark man bowed, heading towards the door, but paused, watching the man behind the desk with curiosity as he read the parchment.
The man behind the desk barely looked up. "Is there something else?" The dark man trembled, speaking barely above a whisper.
"Sir, I have…I have been hearing rumours lately. About….about the plan." The man lifted his eyes, a hint of curiosity playing on his features.
"Go on." The dark man did continue, dropping his voice, as if fearing for eavesdroppers.
"Sir, they are saying…they are saying that it has to do with The Boy Who Lived!" The dark man finished with a dramatic flourish. The man behind the mahogany desk surveyed him carefully, but said nothing, so the dark man plunged on. "I was curious, sir. Does it, does it have to do with," he pointed to the heavy package on the desk, "with that?"
The man behind the desk lowered his eyes to the parchment again.
"Take some advice, boy. Know that there are times in which it is best to ask questions, and times when it is best in which to keep one's mouth shut."
"Of course, sir. I apologize, sir." And the dark man bowed himself out of the cold room.
The man behind the mahogany desk looked grimly at the parchment. Carefully, he lifted it off the desk and withdrew from beneath the folds of his dark robes a long wooden wand. He touched the wand lightly to the parchment, and it burst into flames. The man threw aside the burning paper and looked to the package on his desk. With another quick wave of his wand, the brown paper wrapping was severed and floated to the floor. The man's eyes twinkled, beholding the beauty and power at the package. Indeed, even one who did not realize it's full potential would have been impressed. It's intricate carvings, it's smooth, rippling surface, it's otherworldly glow – both a powerful and dangerous object. The man bent low over the surface and gazed into it. Indeed, there he was, just as the dark man had said – The Boy Who Lived.
"This changes everything. With this I hold your fate, and the fate of all the world." He watched the figure in the glass for some time with a great deal of interest.
The man behind the mahogany desk smiled.
"Yes, boy…this changes everything."
*****
Like it? Hate it? Want more? Think you know who it is? Review!