To hear, to see, to feel is not to know; that right has been reserved for the wise alone.

-cybErdrAgOn

Chapter One: The Winding Road

For miles the trail ran through the countryside, through hill and valley, forest and meadow. It passed through towns and fen, over river and stream, unrelenting in its stretching travels. And for just that long, I walked the road silently, praying for a destination after not much more of the endless walking. For I owned no mount, having left many homes in the dark of night, but knew the greatest quest of all, that which I was currently a part of.

At one point the road became little more than a deer trail through the underbrush, blurry, indistinct, almost one with the forest floor itself. And still I followed with dagger on belt. There was no turning back and no more facing the past, the past I had so carefully left behind. I am an Elf, it is true, but neither leader nor helpless sheep, but a solitary wraith meandering through the webs of life.

There is no turning back, only that which lies before me.

I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the wood elves I had resided with for a brief period, in that time learning their crafts, lore, and life as my feet padded through the layers of fallen leaves without a sound. The time wasted there had been well spent after all, if not necessary. One cannot travel far or fast on the brink of death, it has been said. For now, though, I am content to slip through the forests, more welded into its very framework than the woodland creatures themselves.

A fold of dark green clothing snagged on a branch, so I paused briefly to undo the catch before the twig broke with an all too conspicuous crack. There is a quiet delight in traveling the land unseen and unheard, treading carefully between the mirrors of silence. Once shattered, only the ignorant have difficulty in locating one's whereabouts. I know, I learned from the elves in the northern forests. They were good and loving but so innocent and unseeing, despite their very potent powers. Like all other settlements, leaders there have oppressed the true potential instead of unleashing it carefully upon the world. It is a veritable crime to deny what is rightfully theirs.

As I rounded the bend, I came upon a little brook that had been interjecting every thought for the past few minutes with a gentle tinkle-splash. Gratefully I lay down my meager pack and lowered my head to the water and took a drink. Water is a driving force, therefore to bow to it is no dishonor-I will bow willingly to no man.

After taking my fill of the cool, sweet stream I opened a canteen and filled it, not knowing how long it would be before I found another water source. Then capping it shut, I rose from the ground and continued walking at a course roughly perpendicular to the brook, over a few stones in the middle, and disappearing once more. At once I sensed something different about this stretch; although the leaves were green, they were a shaded, intense color, and it was silent. Utterly silent.

Suddenly I stepped off the barely-trodden dirt path and turned myself laterally toward the road. Now I was only another sliver of green in a forest, lying in silent wait. I was waiting for he who had initiated such a foreign peace.

"So, you have come after all." Startled, I whirled around to find a knife at my throat and a cloaked figure before me. It was the stranger who had been a muse, an inspiration of sorts, and now he was to kill? No, not to kill. The cool logic took over then, for which I was eternally grateful.

"Yes, I am here. Do you have all that you offered?" My own voice was surprisingly strong but my heart was weak and my knees wanted to give out. But that would not do, especially before this man who seemed so familiar, yet so distant.

The cloaked stranger merely nodded and said in the same cold, objective tones, "Then follow me." He glided away until reaching the end of the path, then turned almost the opposite direction. I ran lightly after him and searched for his footprints at the sharp change of directions.

There were none. This stranger left no footprints that even an eye trained by wood elves could detect.

Mystified, I continued until he halted abruptly, and looking up, I saw why. In front was an enormous castle made of a polished black stone, smooth and seamless. It rose straight up to the now visibly darkened sky, and I wondered why I had not spotted it before. The mighty column of black was so conspicuous in such a landscape, but there was no time to make either comment or question. He nodded again and waved his hands in the air, and suddenly, we were flying up, presumably inside the castle itself

When the colors stopped swirling around me I was on a perfectly smooth floor hundreds of feet up in the air. I stood up shakily and walked forth, but the stranger held out a restraining hand.

"She is here, Master," he intoned softly and nodded once more at me. I stepped closer to the front of the room, only to be interrupted by his voice. This time, it was a command.

"Kneel to our Lord."

I paused for a moment trying to decide whether to comply. The years of training at home spoke of complying, but the years spent on the road shouted more strongly. They explained that submission was an unnecessary evil when I spoke to the master of the castle.

"No," said I in a soft, cool voice, and lifted my eyes for the first time to the throne where He sat.

The lord chuckled softly, his laughter humorless and cajoling. "Do as I say," said the one who had led me here hurriedly. "You will not want to know the consequences."

Before I had a chance to even open my mouth, the lord lifted a hand and smiled. "No, no, there is no need to beg. For I alone, teach." And with that, a long white hand snaked out to his staff and pointed it at my proud figure defying his will.

I saw the white-blue jet of light as it left the head of the staff and rolled to the side in instinct. But it followed me, somehow, and when I stopped rolling, it hit my stomach with a terrifying jolt. The first spark of pain spread throughout my body, all-consuming, leaving me little energy even to scream. I felt as if from outside my limbs twitch in agony, my lower lip being bitten through, and green eyes rolling back in my head. Oh lord, even life like this wasn't worth it, I thought, an otherworldly scream rolling out from my lips. It was surreal; nothing in training had prepared me for this sort of torturous white-hot agony, knives driving through my flesh—

And it was all over, and I was on my hands and knees, desperately gasping for breath. Shakily I spat out a mouthful of coppery blood and rose to a knee, then two moccasined feet when he directed the staff at me once more. This time it hurled me across the smooth floor, back and forth, until I was immediately before his feet. Every muscle had been bruised and battered, every inch of my mind willing my body to stand before him and shout defiance.

But that would be folly when approached with an opponent so much stronger, so I shifted onto one knee and bowed my head, feeling all too well the blood trickling slowly from various cuts on my face. Someone coughed lightly just then, the lord of the castle no doubt, who asked me in a dangerously gentle voice to look at him, not just of him.

I did. The sight that greeted my unwilling features was exhilarating even through eyes blurred over by unshed tears. He was a man of ordinary height, nothing spectacular there, but his robes-how the robes were made! They were glistening white, many iridescent hues reflected in the folds, giving him the appearance of one who had just stepped from the court of the sun. When he lifted an arm, or even a finger, the swirls of color changed ever so slightly, enough to show that here was a special man. Now I knew.

"Good, good," he purred. "Shadowman, you were right." To me he dictated, "From now you will refer to my loyal servant as Master Shadow and to myself as simply My Lord. I will instruct you in all you need to know for a favor in exchange. Is that accepted?"

I stared at him as unbefitting a noble Elven maiden and shook my head, halting every second from the excruciating pain. The man smiled like one might at a prisoner and continued carelessly, "You were in search of something special, no? Here it is, and it is you who turns opportunity away. Very well then, here you shall stay." Then he stood up and turned to leave, but not before I called out.

"No," I whispered hoarsely. "I have changed my mind, and I accept your offers."

He spun around inch-by-inch and met my eyes with his own glittering black ones. For a minute he almost rejected it all, but the eyes, those jade green eyes… "Now you understand," said the man coldly. "There is work to be done, which will begin tomorrow. For now, you may exit the tower by way of the stairs," here he waved a hand and spiraling steps appeared in the center of the room, if it may be called such, "since a room has already been prepared. What is your name, by the way?"

"Sarelaine Riverwood," I replied, finally having managed to stand on my own feet again. But he was already gone.

AN: Thanks to the person who reviewed, I really do appreciate it. Obviously no one likes to critique prologues, which I understand, so here is the first real chapter.

Please review: Flames are accepted, praise welcomed, and criticism direly needed. Also if you have time, please review my other fanfics.

L8er,

-cybErdrAgOn