The Althaea Chronicles
Prologue
The cavern was pitch black and freezing cold. The soft sound of padded footsteps against the frozen stone floor pierced the atmosphere of silence. As the explorers neared the end of the narrow passageway, their torches were extinguished by a sudden gust of wind.
As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they realized they had reached their destination. The chamber was dimly by a single glowing rune floating above a lone stalagmite of ice. As the explorers approached the glowing glyph, they saw that the stalagmite encased a massive figure. The frozen body was blood red, with a long tail and horns like a minotaur. Its eyes were still intact, and they glowed bright red; almost as if they were watching them.
A golden chest lay half thawed on the ground in front of the red figure. The explorers, knowing what the chest contained, rushed eagerly towards it, not noticing that the room had suddenly darkened. The bright glyph faded without a sound, leaving the explorers in complete darkness as they wrenched open the chest's lid. Hundreds of coins and jewels spilled out, and the greedy explorers stuffed their pockets with treasure.
As they rose to their feet, a deafening crack sounded from behind them. They turned, spilling jewels across the floor to see a horrifying sight. The red figure had emerged from the stalagmite, no longer sealed by the ancient rune. The figure slowly advanced, chanting unrecognizable incantations that echoed around the room.
Screaming in horror, the explorers turned tail and ran. Moments later, a mystical glyph appeared in the air; a second before the chamber exploded. As the chamber collapsed, the explorers drew their last breaths, letting out their final screams before the rubble crushed their throats. The figure laughed, a terrible sound similar to that of a dying animal, and rose through a newly formed hole in the chamber, being propelled by a rising spell. A new ruler was about to take over Althaea, and this time, it would not be human.