Disclaimer: I am Not tamora pierce, any character's or place's remarked upon, belong to her.
I hope you enjoy it!!
R AND R please and thanks!
(:
Death, the only immortal who treats us all alike, whose pity and whose peace and whose refuge are for all - the soiled and the pure, the rich and the poor, the loved and the unloved.
-Mark Twain
Prologue
In a room full of magic and horror the duke of Deridge was dying, gasping for his last breaths, while everyone pray and watch. His complexion was of a pale white and his once luscious raven hair was now a white mane. His green emerald eyes were looking around the room, studying each and every face around him. It landed on his two sons and daughter. His beautiful children: powerful in so many different ways. He could see in their green black eyes determination and much of all anger. If they knew the truth. Then he felt the cold chill around his body and knew his time had end. He gasp one last time for air and held his hand out, his daughter came rushing to his side and grab his hand. He felt the chill enter his body and saw the hooded figured. The hooded figured pointed his cloaked hand at him and beckoned him to come forward, but he couldn't leave without warning his children. Panic arose inside him and all he could do was to fight the strange power surrounding him. He used the last ounce of power left in his body, to bend the will of the creature. He gasp and spoke his last words with concerned, but most of all warning.
"Be careful of her power and strength,
For her allies defer from region and terrain.
She casts with her the blade of justice and neutrality.
She is the favorite of the god's.
For she will bring down the tyrants and villains and will spread hope around the land.
Be careful gasp be careful…"
The lightning bolt struck the land, sealing the warning with destruction and fear.
Chapter 1
Cassandra woke up startled. She felt when the man died and even when he left. Her ears ring from the horrible boom, made by the lightning bolt .She as always never knew who the people were, but this time she could recognized the power this man had. No one dared to fight against the death deity's messenger, but somehow the man did .The chill that ran through her body was a signaled of bad times approaching. It was all clear to her, the God's were playing their cards and she felt as if she was in the middle of it all.
She got up from her cott and stretched her body languidly; it was always such a stress to watch those dreams that carried so many meanings. She looked to the open window that stared out to the horizon and all but realized that her unusual power was something that she would never understand. It was harder to ignore the things that surrounded her, like for example the dead woman sitting in her cott right now. She still could hear the rules her mother made her memorized.
1) Don't talk to them
2) Never listen
3) Never let them realized you can see them
AND MOST OF ALL:
4) Never EVER help them (since their lost souls that never finish their business).
She still remembered the fear she felt at night when they would enter her room and touch her hair, the chill that ran through her tiny body and the great effort to not scream. It was harder to go outside and not stared at them, to ignore their screams and most of all to ignore their agony. She wanted to guide them toward the right path, but she knew what it all led too. That was a mistake she was never going to repeat again. She felt the woman stand up from her cott and leave, taking with her the cold temperature.
She concentrated on the view and much of all in the sun that was announcing a new day and a new start. She turned around and went directly to work, first of all with her hygiene. The hot water that was pour into the tub calm her muscles and made her relax, most of all made her think. She tried to picture the dream again and most of all the faces, but all she could do was hear the words. Those words were marked with magic, but most of all danger.
"I don't even know, why I stressed over these stupid dreams." She sighed and look to the mark that decorated her left wrist; the mark that made her life miserable. She traced the pentacle with one finger, calming her uneasiness. She got out of the tub and went to get dress. The silk silver dress made her look paler than she was and the soft silver veil made her green purple eyes outstand even more. She pinned her veil to her long auburn hair and slip her feet into her silver slippers. She gave one last look to her image and left her room.
She started to cross the path toward the temple area, not paying attention to the dead people walking around the courtyard. She could feel them following her, trying to bother her. She tried to keep a steady pace, not wanting to give them any signs of acknowledgement. She could feel her hair been rustle and it all but put her cautious. These spirits were not scared, they were restless. Meaning something bad was out. She reached the temple's gates and gave one last look to the temple's surroundings to calm her uneasiness. When she didn't see anything she entered the sacred grounds. Little did she know that she was been watched by Powerful forces.
The Hand took out a card from the pack right next to it, setting it in the middle of the table. To show a knight who was fighting for his life and death in the background watching. "Tsk, Tsk. It is such a pity that the game has started so bad." This made the being shrill a cold laugh.