Prologue

Sunset in the wastelands. The night slowly devours the day, suffocating it in her darkness and pain. It seems to last for ages. As if the darkness wishes to prolong the suffering. As if it wishes to prove its superiority, to tell the people that they are lost, yet again. The strong east wind starts to blow. The sands are shifting in a constant pace, nothing unchanged.

As the night fell in Spargus city, all of its inhabitants were far asleep. It has been a long and hard day. All of their days pass so. In tough labor, fighting for their very lives, for the desert never forgives, nor forgets. They deserve the rest, for only there are they safe.

The lights of the palace are put out, all but one. It shines so brightly, as a single star on a clouded night sky. The silk curtains dance on the wind. As if they had a mind of their own. The light on the curtains forms a strong figure, sitting upon the edge of the balcony. His back tightly settled on the wall which connects the cold night with the warmth that waits inside. Emerald and gold fringes violently trashing about, as if they are protesting against the air stream. Indigo eyes shimmer in the dark. One tear forms and slowly falls down his face, forming a trace of stardust. Another one follows, and another, until they formed a river of pain. His cries soon turned into howls, echoing bluntly through the air, for everyone to hear. But, no one cared, as always he was alone. His body starts to tremble out of fear and despair. A falling star lit the sky for a moment. He didn't have the time to make a wish. He never has.

The wind starts blowing harder, carrying word from the east.

All of his senses were overwhelmed by the smell it brought, the scent of death and decay. His eyes widened in terror as he realized what had happened. The eastern barrier was lost, plagued with the enemy. They lost again. The images of the eastern regions in fire, women and children screaming, men running into battle only to be slain a few moments later. Images of pure destruction and chaos floated above him. He opened his mouth to let lose one scream. It echoed through the city, hitting every wall and multiplying. Oh how he wished someone was here now. He wished she was here.

He stepped of the edge and went into his room, all clad in crimson, the color of blood, one he knew so well. A large bed stood in the middle, undone, for he never sleeps well. His nightmares always haunt him, the faces of all the people he killed or could not save. From tonight there will be even more of them. He slowly laid into the bed, curling up in almost a fetal position.

He missed her; he yearned for her so badly. But somehow he knew that there was more to this than her, there was something else. He needed it even more. But he didn't know what it was. He fell asleep with these thoughts, maybe in his dreams his answers will come.