The sun was beating down on the Desert of Despair. This remote part of America was amongst the desolate parts of the world but this didn't concern the shadowy figure walking across the sand. The man wore a long yellow robe that brushed against the ground and in his hand was a small wooden stick. He paused briefly and held the stick in the palm of his hand. It moved all by itself like the needle of a compass, almost like it was pointing him in the direction of his target. After a few minutes, the man came across a small pile of rocks and stopped. Underneath the hood of his robe he smiled before waving his arms in an elaborate gesture. The ground began to rumble as the rocks began to rise out of the sand until they formed an archway, "Perfect", the man hissed before walking through the arch.
In a flash the man had been teleported to another location. The room was lit with a few torches and water periodically dripped down the walls. Lining the walls were crude drawings of five different animals, a red dragon, a lion, a griffin, a unicorn and finally a phoenix. The man lowered his hood, revealing his pale white skin and bald head. His red eyes glowed as he rubbed his bony fingers across some Chinese symbols, "And they said this place was a myth", he snorted.
Vrak, the Prince of the Armada, had spent the last nine months obsessively searching for something to permanently remove the threat of his nemesis. Humans were weak. The Prince knew there was a power that he couldn't posses. If he couldn't find out what that power was, then Vrak would find his own mystical power, the likes of which the World had never seen.
During his extensive period of research, he came across a reference to mystical beings that lived thousands of years ago. According to his research, they could have been the Org's, numerous rumours littered various historic texts but this was the earliest reference Veak had found. Further research told him that the Org's hadn't existed for years, however, he did find several references to their possible home. After extensive travelling and numerous dead ends, Vrak found himself in on the outskirts of Angel Grove. Almost as soon as the Prince arrived, he could sense the radiant power coming from nearby.
Now he was in the lost temple, a dark dank hole that hardly seemed fitting for the birth place of magic. He allowed the ambient magic of the temple to wash over him and quickly he pinpointed the presence that he sensed from the surface. It was hidden behind a stone wall but that wouldn't stop the most powerful Prince. One energy blast later and the wall had been turned to rubble.
Vrak quickly banished the dust and the larger pieces of debris until he saw something of interest. Behind the wall was an ornate chest that was locked with several giant bolts, "This is it", he said almost with reverence. He tried to pull the locks but nothing happened, even the standard unlocking spells didn't work. "I will not be denied", he boomed and pushed all his magic into the bolts. If Vrak had stopped for a moment, he would have seen the paintings on the wall glowing behind him.
Suddenly the bolts flew off and the lid of the chest popped open. Vrak looked inside but he couldn't anything. Crying out with rage, he was about to blast the chest to piece when the temperature in the room dropped by several degrees. The Prince felt like all the air in the temple had disappeared as a faint glow began to emanate from the chest. A cloud of smoke and dust shot into the air and engulfed the Prince but something told him not to fight back. He had to stop himself from coughing as the dust entered his body but soon he understood what was happening. He began to laugh manically; the World would soon be his.