Disclaimer: Dudes, hi. This story's disclaimers aren't going to be long and… Well, to be perfectly blunt, strange. Yes, I realize that I am strange. I don't need to be told. So, as I was saying, the Circle of Magic series doesn't belong to me. There are a couple people who belong to me, but that's it. So… Yeah. I'll be writing my other story too, so don't worry. I can't say this story will be updated often, or vice versa.
You guys should recognize the predictions down there as occurrences through out the books. I don't think I'll be on this thing tomorrow, cuz it's my birthday, and my mom has a big list thing on what to do. Bowling is included, so I'm happy. I mean, who wouldn't like to throw around eight pound balls that can endanger others? Certainly not me. In fact, I'm not allowed to go out there. It gets annoying.
Sorry. Rambling again. So there you go. Enjoy, and don't complain because I started earlier than some of you asked. This story's gonna be different than the other one, besides the obvious differences, such as characters and settings. Yeah, again, enjoy.
Prologue by Eveiveneg
Hajra, Sotat
The city's children rushed towards the camp, giggling happily. But it wasn't only them that had caught the fever of excitement. Young couples, old men, middle-aged wives, everyone had come out.
For the gypsies had come. This wasn't a normal occurrence, so everyone hurried out to see the traveling performers, watching in awe as they passed by. Pocketing their money, children and adults alike rushed out to enjoy the night. They gasped in appreciation as one man swallowed fire. They gaped at the woman who juggled swords and daggers. Every single audience member did a double take as a pair of twins contorted their bodies into the shape of a heart.
In short, it was absolute chaos. Chaos, but enjoyable chaos.
On a hill surveying the campsite stood a small girl, no more than five, watching the people. If anyone looked her way, they would probably just skip over her, not even remembering her later on. She looked pretty ordinary, just another child enjoying a free night. Her long black hair hung down to her waist, straight as a sheet of metal. She had an olive complexion, giving her the look of a native of the city. Dressed in breeches, shirt and a vest, she radiated a sense of calmness and normality.
But if anyone were close enough to see her eyes, they would stop and stare. Her eyes were storm cloud gray, like the calm before a rain, but quick enough to change and become fierce. Gold flecked the dark gray, like lightning flashing. They captivated those who so much as glanced her way, holding them.
At the moment, though, those lightning filled eyes were glazed over, seeing something no one else could.
A man came up behind her and, crouching down, laid a hand on her thin shoulder. "Selene."
She didn't even turn around. "You know better than to call me that."
He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I do. Please, accept my apology." She smiled slightly. "You need not worry, Emory. I doubt I could go for long being angry at you." He smiled in return.
"How do you think they like the entertainment?" He asked, looking out over the camp.
"They love it."
"You sure?"
She gave him a look. After a moment, he shook his head, grinning. "I should know better by now." She tugged his beard playfully.
They were quiet for a moment; content watching the people swarm around. Then the girl spoke. "I will do it tonight."
He turned abruptly, startled by her words. "Are you sure?" She nodded. "Tonight is one of those nights. I have no doubt of it." Emory returned her gaze for a second. She had always been different from the rest of the kids. Though she acted like a normal child, at times, such as this one, she was so confident and wise. It was like she was an old woman, who had seen all there was and had no worries about what she said.
"All right." He stood up, not bothering to wipe the grass off of his breeches. "I'll inform Cybele." She nodded absently. "Come, then." He left, returning to the camp.
The young girl stood there a moment, turning from the ground to the sky. She smiled, the soft light of the appearing stars lighting up her features. "I had best follow him." She whispered, more to encourage herself than anything else. Then her face broke into an excited grin, making her seem more like the child she really was. She ran after Emory, hardly able to wait for the night to come.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
A group of boys wandered through the crowded 'streets' of the gypsy campsite. All were young, the oldest fourteen at most. They were spread out a small distance, making it seem as though they just happened to be heading in the same direction and had nothing to do with the other. But their association with each other was shown by the fact they kept sending casual glances to one another.
One boy, about six years old, walked among this group. His crisp black hair was cropped short, sticking out messily. His golden-brown skin marked him as a native of the area. His green eyes, however, indicated some northern heritage, and stood out against his dark skin.
He swaggered along, keeping pace with the others. Suddenly he stepped towards one of the members of the crowd. Before the man even noticed him, his coin pouch was gone and had disappeared in the boy's shirt. When the man finally saw that his money was gone, the boy was long gone.
Later, after the stars had begun to appear and the moon was rising, the boys gathered together in a secluded nook and counted their treasures. "This is good." The oldest and tallest declared. "We've enough for tonight. The Master shou' be pleased." He looked at the group of boys around him. "Go 'njoy yourselves. It'll be a while 'til we can do it 'gain." The others nodded, ecstatic at the prospect of being able to go out and watch.
The golden-skinned boy went off in his own direction, leaving the others behind. If he needed to, he could find them again.
He strolled through the innumerable masses of people, glancing at this and that, snatching an occasional purse when no one was watching.
Suddenly he heard a loud murmur of oohs and aws. He furrowed his brow and made his way over, listening to the announcement.
"Come one, come all! The Prophet has come! Let this Seer of the Future tell your fortune!"
He felt curiosity rise. He tried to push it down, but failed miserably. He kept going towards the center of the crowd.
He finally was close enough to see what was going on. A man, somewhere in between thirty and forty, was standing next to a wooden podium. He was the one calling out the advertisements for the Seer.
On the podium sat a small figure, cross-legged. They were dressed in gray robes, with long sleeves that covered the arms that rested on their legs. A hood was pulled over their bowed head, making it impossible to see the person's face. They were quiet, not making any sounds or movements whatsoever.
Each person that approached paid the man next to the Seer and went to the Seer. After being whispered instructions by the man, they would hold out a hand. The Seer would gently take their hand and look at it. After a few moments the small form would release their hand. Most people left looking happy. A few had sober faces on. None of the news seemed to be too bad, then.
Suddenly, the Seer's head snapped up. Everyone in the crowd seemed to stop moving and making noise. It was entirely silent.
The small figure turned their head around, meeting everyone's eyes. Then they stopped. Their eyes rested on one person, mostly hidden by the crowd, except for his gray-green eyes.
The Seer raised their arm and beckoned the single audience member towards the cleared area. He stared for a moment, then, very cautiously, walked forward. His eyes were focused on the figure on the podium. They returned his gaze steadily.
Before he could get up on to the podium, the man stopped him. He held out a hand, palm up. The boy stared at it apprehensively. Then an arm came on the man's shoulder. He looked down at the small hand and then at the Seer. They gave an imperceptible shake of the head. The man nodded and stepped back.
The boy looked at them confusedly, wanting an answer for this weird behavior. Why was the Seer letting him get away with no payment? Oh well, he shrugged mentally. It was a free fortune telling session, wasn't it? Who was he to toss it out?
A small hand gestured for him to come up onto the podium. He complied, albeit slowly. Now that he was closer, he could see that a white scarf covered the lower half of the person's face. The only feature that was visible was their gray eyes, which, he was startled to see, had golden flecks. It was like lightning flashing across a clouded sky.
A soft voice interrupted his musings. "Which hand do you use?" He moved his right one. "Give me your left one." He felt himself blanch. "Err, I-I can't do that." He stuttered.
"Why ever not?" If he hadn't known better, he would have thought there was amusement in the person's voice. "Because…" He bit his lip, unsure of what to do.
Those gray eyes were watching him too keenly for his comfort. Then they softened. "It's all right." They said quietly. "I won't judge you by what's on your hands." He looked at them curiously. But they just held out their hand. "Give me your hand."
After a moment of inner turmoil, he did so. On the web between the thumb and forefinger was an X. The person simply glanced at it before looking at his palm. That wasn't the reaction he'd expected. Why wasn't the Seer shrieking and calling for someone to come and take this little wretched street urchin away? This wasn't usual.
Running delicate fingers over the lines, and scars, in his hand, the person seemed to lose touch with the rest of the world. There was a blank look in their eyes, one that unnerved him.
They began to speak softly, still tracing lines on his palm. "You will leave, soon, and be taken to a new home, and new family. In a time of need, you will be bound to three others by magic." Their voice grew lower and faster, as if being flooded with information all at once. "Warriors attack your new home, threatening your newfound peace. Fire comes and endangers close ones." They paused for breath, then continued. "A close encounter with death, to save a loved one. A meeting of stone and plants. Plants save stone. Returning to ones who are changed beyond imagination. A powerful enemy that nearly tears you apart."
Suddenly they paused, as if confused. "You will… meet another who is shrouded in mystery and save them from grave peril. Love catches you soon after." They stopped and looked up at him, holding him with their captivating eyes. "You have a great future ahead of you. Don't let anyone take it from you. Don't ever give in." They whispered.
They released his hand and continued, "Don't lose faith in others. Be carefulwhen you choose who totrust. Those are my warnings. Farewell, Roach."The corners oftheir eyes crinkled in a smile."We will meet again."
He stared at them. How did this person know his name? Yes, this person was a Seer, but weren't they fakers?
He retreated quickly and melted into the crowd, tossing a final glance at the Seer.
She watched him leave, then closed her eyes again. Quietly, she muttered, "Drake? I don't feel so good." The man nodded sympathetically. "All right. You can leave. We've got plenty of money as it is." She simply nodded.
He turned to the crowd and announced, "I'm sorry to inform you that our Seer is officially done for the night. Please, enjoy the rest of time here." Many protested, wanting their own fortune told.
But the Seer had already slipped away, leaving them all. She retreated into a tent and pulled off the hood and scarf. Her long black hair fell down gracefully. She tied it back, keeping it out of her face. She threw off her robes, revealing her breeches and shirt underneath. She quickly grabbed a vest and began lacing it up. That done, she smiled and, making sure no one saw her, left.
She strolled around the area, looking interestedly at all the people. She soon came to the edge of the camp.
Suddenly, she heard voices in the trees. Curious, she sidled over to where they were coming from. Two men were arguing over something in heated whispers. She leaned in closer to hear.
"There's not nearly 'nough children!" One hissed.
"That don't mean you get to act how ya want!" The other replied hotly.
"What d'ya suggest, then?"
Silence met that question. The one questioned seemed to be thinking.
"We'll have ta keep going 'til we have 'nough." He seemed resigned when he said it. The other one seemed to panic. "But we were s'posed to have 'em ready by now! That's what the boss said!"
"Ya think I don't know that?" He snapped. "We don't have choice. Ya know better 'n I do that we can't jus' waltz up and give him less 'n 'e wanted." The other was quiet, fuming. "Fine." He said shortly.
She bit her lip. These were slavers. They caught unsuspecting people and sold them off as slaves. She had to tell Emory. Right now.
"Hey, where's Jess?" The fuming one asked.
She felt her face go pale. "There's more?" She whispered. "But where?"
"Right 'ere." A voiced hissed in her ear.
Before she could react, something rammed into the back of her head and everything went dark.