A/N: Um, this is the prologue, and it's completely different from the story. When you read this, I understand that you'll think that this has bearing on what the rest of the story is like. Please, read the next chapter before you decide whether to follow it or not. This chapter does not do the story justice, but it's entirely necessary to the story. Thanks!!


The Scribe's Resurrection
Prologue

Date Unknown

Calchas Phoenix Academy was a small, quiet school. It specialized in complex magic, and only those with the highest marks were admitted in. This year, some fifty students managed to graduate, and the others had transferred or disappeared. As expected, the graduates and the families of the graduates rallied in the auditorium, gaily celebrating.

"Our valedictorian of the Calchas Phoenix Academy, Anastasia Renata, will now say a few words to our graduating class." The Headmaster Saxby, clapping, stepped aside for the young woman walking to the podium.

"Thank you, thank you," Anastasia said as she held her ash wand to her throat. She waited a few seconds as the audience quieted. "I have not prepared a speech, as I wish to speak from the heart." Anastasia paused, taking a deep breath.

"Our journey always starts when we walk through the doors of the Calchas Phoenix Academy. We come, bearing new textbooks, scared out of our wits, awaiting the unknown. Each and every person that walks through this school knows that their story will begin when they are sorted. Everyone goes through his or her years, gaining experiences and being shaped. Though we experience hardship, looking back, we feel our time here is fulfilling and commendable. Though our paths are different, we still come across conflicts.

"We are always at war. We are at war with ourselves, our peers, our society. No matter what war we fight, we can conquer it. In my five years at Calchas Phoenix, I have seen how the strength of others can assist us in our times of battle and need.

"Let us always remember these moments and love each other for them, because we might not ever see each other again. Sip and relish the draught of life now, for you never know when Destiny and Fate will steal the cup from your hands. Congratulations, graduating class. Right now, your goblet is full."

Although they were not entirely moving, many graduates, teachers, and families cried at Anastasia Renata's words. She had a way with knowing exactly how to strike a chord. She put her wand back into her pocket as the Headmaster returned to dismiss the audience.

Stepping off of the stage, the raven-haired youth made her way to her seat next to her mother.

"Very nice. Appropriate, beautiful words," the elder Anastasia said, smiling sadly. "I am so proud of you." She leaned over to embrace her daughter.

"I'm proud of you too, Mother," the younger whispered. Anastasia pulled away, sniffling, and patted her daughter's hair.

"Come on," she said. "We have reservations at The Hippocampus." The two Anastasias departed, sometimes stopping to tell a friend or mentor good-bye. Anastasia dutifully pushed her mother's wheelchair around. Anastasia Renata, Sr. was paralyzed from the waist down due to a spinal cord problem. Due to the non-existent use of her legs, a car was waiting at the curb for the mother and daughter.

"How was the ceremony?" The driver asked, driving down the street. The sky darkened as he spoke.

"Quite lovely."

"To The Hippocampus, I presume?"

"Yes, sir." Anastasia paused and ran her withered fingers through her silver hair. "Anastasia, dear, there is a box under your seat. Could you hand it to me please?" The daughter reached under her legs, groping around until she felt a flat, wooden jewelry box. She placed it in her mother's hands.

"Thank you. I was saving this for you. You know you were born during a solar eclipse."

"Mmhmm."

"Well, I commissioned this piece for that reason. Go on, open it." Anastasia's daughter looked at her questioningly. "Haha, it's not going to eat you! It's a simple thing."

Anastasia looked at the box her mother had saved. It looked old. Undoing the clasp, Anastasia peeked inside; her mother watched her face.

"Oh... oh... This is... Beautiful." A silver crescent moon pendant winked at Anastasia. Its base was moonstone, and the filigree on it was fixed into swirls, making it quite decorative. The gray-haired woman offered an explanation.

"You see, when you were born, in that moment, the moon was more powerful than the sun. Always remember that no matter how difficult something is, you can always overcome it- if only for a while."

"Thank you."

"And plus, you'll need it when you get your first job next week." The younger Anastasia already had a job with the Ministry, as did many of the graduates.

"I wish I knew what my first assignment was."

"You'll know in time. No one knows what their first assignment will be, Anastasia. I didn't know at your age either." The old woman spoke with wisdom. She could only hope that her daughter would remember everything she had learned. The youth sighed and looked back to the necklace.

"Thank you so much." They hugged again, and the mother clipped the necklace around her daughter's neck.

A week later, the elder Anastasia died at an old age of one-hundred and seventy, and the younger Anastasia took her first job.