1 Prologue
"Sire, I do not understand," the man said to his master, "Why do we need this girl? What difference will she make?"
"Silence!" the man's master raised his thin, aged hand, "Who are you to question my orders? I am your master and you will obey me. The girl affects everything. With her we will finally reach our goal. She is our destiny."
"You are crazy!" the man looked upon his master with hate burning in his eyes, "I will not be apart of this masquerade. One girl cannot change the course that the Fates have given you. You are leading your people into destruction. You will regret your actions."
The old man shook his mighty head, "Then you shall die. You are a stupid man to go against me. You will be greatly missed."
The picture of the man flickered then died. The old man sat back in his throne and sighed deeply. His aged eyes drooped as he rubbed his temples.
"General Ram, take your best men and find the girl," his voice was rasp, "If Tarlon gets in your way, kill him. He is a traitor. In fact, go to him and kill him. A traitor does not deserve to live. Now go, your master is tired."
"Yes, sire," a man dressed in black and silver stepped out of the shadows and bowed, "As you command."
The old man nodded his head to the General and shooed him away.
"I am sorry my son," he whispered to the darkness, "But what must be done, must be done. I am sorry Tarlon."
***
Tarlon watched as the picture of his master faded. He did not understand the man, nor did he want to. He found the leader of his country to be crazy and power-hungry. The old man would be the downfall to their nation.
The young man rubbed his temples and walked out of the small door to the cottage he was staying in. He looked at the night sky. Colors streaked across the northern sky, dancing to the night's lullaby. His shoulder length brown hair floated in the warm summer breeze. The cold of the night nipped at his naturally dark skin, but he did not move. He enjoyed the cold and embraced it for all it was worth.
The man's face hardened, "I have to stop them," he told himself out loud, "I cannot let him put an innocent girl's life in danger."
Tarlon lifted his head to the heavens and prayed to the gods of his nation. He would need all the help he could get to stop his master.
"Please watch over me and guide me great teachers. Please watch over the girl and keep her safe until I can do that myself," the man paused for a moment, "And please, let my father see his wrong doings, and if you must, punish him for straying from you almighty light."
A single shooting star shot across the sky and disappeared in the lights that lit the northern horizon. It was the sign that the messenger of the gods had heard his plea. Tarlon smiled and thanked Shiakara the Messenger before walking into the warmth of his cottage.
Authors Note: Okay, go easy on me for this one. I'm new at writing. But I do accept flames. As Cari Sahdi says, "I have my marshmallows ready" *holds up bag of marshmallow. Arigato!! Ja ne!
Laterz!
FireDemon
"Sire, I do not understand," the man said to his master, "Why do we need this girl? What difference will she make?"
"Silence!" the man's master raised his thin, aged hand, "Who are you to question my orders? I am your master and you will obey me. The girl affects everything. With her we will finally reach our goal. She is our destiny."
"You are crazy!" the man looked upon his master with hate burning in his eyes, "I will not be apart of this masquerade. One girl cannot change the course that the Fates have given you. You are leading your people into destruction. You will regret your actions."
The old man shook his mighty head, "Then you shall die. You are a stupid man to go against me. You will be greatly missed."
The picture of the man flickered then died. The old man sat back in his throne and sighed deeply. His aged eyes drooped as he rubbed his temples.
"General Ram, take your best men and find the girl," his voice was rasp, "If Tarlon gets in your way, kill him. He is a traitor. In fact, go to him and kill him. A traitor does not deserve to live. Now go, your master is tired."
"Yes, sire," a man dressed in black and silver stepped out of the shadows and bowed, "As you command."
The old man nodded his head to the General and shooed him away.
"I am sorry my son," he whispered to the darkness, "But what must be done, must be done. I am sorry Tarlon."
***
Tarlon watched as the picture of his master faded. He did not understand the man, nor did he want to. He found the leader of his country to be crazy and power-hungry. The old man would be the downfall to their nation.
The young man rubbed his temples and walked out of the small door to the cottage he was staying in. He looked at the night sky. Colors streaked across the northern sky, dancing to the night's lullaby. His shoulder length brown hair floated in the warm summer breeze. The cold of the night nipped at his naturally dark skin, but he did not move. He enjoyed the cold and embraced it for all it was worth.
The man's face hardened, "I have to stop them," he told himself out loud, "I cannot let him put an innocent girl's life in danger."
Tarlon lifted his head to the heavens and prayed to the gods of his nation. He would need all the help he could get to stop his master.
"Please watch over me and guide me great teachers. Please watch over the girl and keep her safe until I can do that myself," the man paused for a moment, "And please, let my father see his wrong doings, and if you must, punish him for straying from you almighty light."
A single shooting star shot across the sky and disappeared in the lights that lit the northern horizon. It was the sign that the messenger of the gods had heard his plea. Tarlon smiled and thanked Shiakara the Messenger before walking into the warmth of his cottage.
Authors Note: Okay, go easy on me for this one. I'm new at writing. But I do accept flames. As Cari Sahdi says, "I have my marshmallows ready" *holds up bag of marshmallow. Arigato!! Ja ne!
Laterz!
FireDemon