Chapter 1 - The Gift
A/N This is a prologue to the full story so please take into account that it is fairly short
The last moments of a summer's day were fading. The sharp corners of desks and chairs seemed to soften in the leftover glow of the day. A tall thin man with crooked glasses perched on the end of a long crooked nose was studying the spine of a crooked and forgotten-looking book. He peered down the end of it and brushed a long finger through the dust that was thickly spread on its leafy pages. With the greatest care he placed it onto one of the many long wooden tables. From a height the long tables looked like crossword puzzles. Pulling out a rigid chair identical to the hundreds of others apart from a very plump velvety cushion, on which he sat. Muttering under his breath, he glared intensely at the marks on the first page.
Joe Clarkson had had a very normal day at work. He was a security officer at the Great British Library. The cavernous library stretched upwards, one great hall with cold marble floors, lavish columns of sandstone, a huge curving roof with windows etched into its surface sending great shafts of light down on to the shiny floors. In every two of Joe's steps, clouds of dust could be seen marbling and dancing in the rectangles of light landing with the softest touch onto more angular shapes. It was a mathematical equation of eerie beauty.
It was time for Joe to lock up. He lifted a hand in farewell to his colleagues and they split up, searching their various sections of the library. Joe's job was really very simple, he spent all day at the library keeping an eye on the visitors whilst his other eye was free to pursue his greatest hobby - fly-fishing. He could make fourteen flies on a good day – without the interruption from tourists or browsers wondering "What section is 'Pride and Prejudice' in?". He had only taken the job because of the long tea breaks; he had no interest in the dusty books that lined the walls like mismatched bricks.
Joe's disaffected footsteps echoed through the corridors of book shelves, slapping against the walls and up to the ceiling; once through the linear puzzle of shelves he encountered the reading section where long tables were set up in a square. A little further down there was a very odd looking man, who sat illuminated in a rectangle of light. The man cast a very strange image, his hair was draped down his back in elongated drips of silver. He was wearing a very loud Hawaiian shirt that clashed brilliantly with his hair and clinging tightly to his legs were a pair of muddy suede trousers, which looked unbearable to wear in the stifling heat. "There's always one," thought Joe.
"Excuse me, sir-- excuse me, sir!" Joe shouted the last word as the man seemed not to hear him; he was so completely absorbed in his book. His lips were moving fervently as if he was reading to himself.
"Yes?" said the man patiently, and his eyes flickered up at Joe with a penetrating force.
"Sir, it's time to lock up now, I'm afraid you'll have to leave."
"Yes," the man agreed. "It is getting rather late, but I am afraid I will have to stay." He waved his hand absentmindedly at Joe.
"You will have to stay," recited Joe. His mouth was wide open as he gaped at the stranger; he felt like a fool for telling him to go, it was only twelve o'clock in the afternoon. Joe made his way back to the office thinking that he might just go home and have a lie-down; he also had a sudden craving for toffee éclairs.
The silver-haired man, now free from interruption, was once again reading the book with an intense blaze .The words he murmured seemed to make the scratchy marks on the page glisten.
"Yes, yes this is it!" he whispered with hoarse excitement. "This is what I have been searching for!" and he read this section aloud:
"In tremendous times of bloodshed or battle the heavens will grant wizard-kind a vital weapon which will help seal the fate of the war. The weapon has reappeared many times throughout history, but only when times are so grave that both human and wizard life becomes cheap. Gift's dodrans will be bestowed upon a normal child who may choose to which side their loyalties lie, be it good or evil. A foot-soldier above any foot-soldier, mankind's great protector."