CHAPTER ONE: The Guild Reborn.

When Scythe returned to the world, after 2000 years of slumber, he was shocked to find that the world was a very different place. Not that he hadn't expected some form of change, but this…

The world he looked out on, as he stood on top of a high, rolling hill, bared the signs of a society that had receded, rather than advanced. There were far less people, the roads were made of pressed gravel rather than cobbled stones, and none of the larger stone buildings existed anymore.

It was though Albion had been broken, and rebuilt from the remains. It reminded him of a time when the Guild had been thriving under the guidance of Nostro and Bowerstone had been no more than a moderately busy merchant centre.

He had returned as the sun had only just begun it's descent towards the Western mountain ranges, mountains that had definitely not been there when the Crawler had been destroyed by Albion's King. It was with confusion in his heart that he gazed back towards the Sea; The Spire was gone.

Thoughts plaguing his mind, William Black strode down the hill, hopping over a rough wooden fence and crossing the wide open fields. Without realizing it, he was headed towards the old Guild, which in the last 2000 years had been revealed by the slowly shrinking Bower Lake. The once huge Lake was now no more than a few flowing streams that snaked past the remains of Hero Hill and moved out to the sea.

A pinkish-orange glow rested on the land, as twilight approached. Faint stars could be seen in the eastern skies and a deep, dark forest loomed ahead. He passed into the trees, drawing his cloak about him to keep the cold out. A thick mist descended upon the trees, and Scythe's breath came out in foggy puffs of air.

Then, he heard something. Something approaching him. The snap of a twig, the rustle of a cloak, the jingling of bells. He halted, eyes peeled, trying to discern something in the fog. He heard them, before he saw them.

"William Black, the Last Archon, King of the Old World." A deep, husky female voice rolled out, seemingly from all around him. "Returning to Albion after two thousand years. My my, the years haven't been kind to you." Theresa stepped through the trees, her eyes glowing faintly, a smirk on her lips.

Scythe turned to look at her, a small smile lifting his mouth. "Theresa, Seeress of the Spire. Last living relative of the Jack Slayer." He swept her a curt bow. "A pleasure to see you away from the Tower at long last."

Theresa tittered lightly. "Oh I've been amongst the mortals for some time now. I, after all, am the one who took them back to the old ways, after all."

"So you did use the Spire, then." William muttered, gazing at her. Never, he thought, would she use the power of the Spire for anyone but herself. "How did it all happen?"

"Oh it's quite the thrilling tale." She said with mock bravado. "Come, let us walk." She tilted her head to the side, clasping her hands before her, and set off through the trees. William walked behind her, listening to her tell the tale of the fall of man.

She told him of the rise of technology. The way society fell into ruins. The lies and deception. The death. The chaos and anarchy.

"Eventually, they even lost their fear of the Old Witch. But their attempts to burn her out were foolhardy at best." She had been speaking for nearly an hour, and by now, the trees were thinning towards the end of the Forest. "The World was brought to it's knees. Then I was forced to act."

"You weren't wrong… That was indeed quite the tale." William's head was bowed in thought. "But… Why wait so long to act? Surely you could have saved so many lives by intervening sooner?"

Theresa halted, and her voice became serious and grim. "I am not a caretaker or custodian, William. The stupidity of these people is not, and never was my concern. They were free to go blowing each other up until the end of days, for all I cared. But Albion was beginning to fall apart. I did what I did for the world, not the people in it. Hear me very well when I say that."

The tone in her voice was icy cold. Scythe didn't object or argue the point with her.

"Now, moving on." She said, resuming her pacing and adopting a more businesslike tone. "Before long, I think the world will be ready for the Heroes again. Don't you agree?"

"I… You mean…" The rebirth of the Guild. Yes of course. The deadly beasts were multiplying, as Scythe would soon learn. There would be need for heroes to protect and save. "Yes, you're right."

"We are agreed then." She nodded once, raising her arm and pointing away through the fog, towards the Guild. "You seem to still want to protect the people of Albion, so I suggest you get to work. The Guild is in ruins, and there is no one to lead them."

Scythe looked in the direction she was pointing, spying the dim outline of the Guild bathed in moonlight. "Not for long." Of course, he couldn't lead the Guild back into power himself. Avo knew he was too old for such a task. He did, however, have just the perfect person in mind. Someone who led the Guild through it's darkest time, and saw them safely out on the other side. Someone who died before their time was up.

"Very well." She inclined her head towards him, a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth. "It was good to see you again, William. I wish you luck."

"As with you, Theresa."

The Seeress disappeared in an eerie blue glow, leaving Scythe alone at the edge of the woods. He had a goal to achieve now. Admittedly, he was disappointed with Theresa's attitude regarding the people of Albion, but it wasn't unexpected.

First thing's first. He'd need to deal with the condition of the Guild before restoring a Guild Master. His mind set, he moved off through the shadows and out of the woods.