Prologue: The Storm
The young man stood on top of the dune, surrounded by the swirling dark storm. He was afraid, yet strangely exhilarated at the same had seen some pretty amazing stuff in his life, but this definitely took the cake.
So here he was, fulfilling his destiny- or at least taking one step closer to it. Soon he would have all the power he needed to show that worthless old man that he was the only person worthy, that he was the one written in the prophecy. Soon, world would know his power. Soon, the world would remember its most ancient roots and bow down to him.
What is your purpose in coming here? the storm asked, its mental voice tearing through his head. He opened his mouth to reply, but the storm never gave him the chance. Of course. You wish for power, power to take what you believe is rightfully yours, to become the greatest of all. What else do humans want? That is why they make such good... partners. The dark voice's tone made the young man suspect it was going to say something besides "partners", but he let it slide. Help me to rise, and I will grant your every wish.
He didn't know what the storm wanted to do once it had risen. He knew it was powerful, far more powerful than anything he had ever encountered before. He knew it had the power to enslave the entire world- or destroy it.
He just didn't care. He accepted the storm's offer.
