Chapter I
The sound of hoof beats permeated the forest floor, scattering the earth-dwelling creatures from the road. Six riders approached in haste, caring not for their disturbance. Spurring their horses onwards, their cloaks whipping behind them, leaving a cloud of dust. At the head was a man who looked older than the rest, the creases of time etched in his furrowed brow. This time, he thought, this time the ritual may be complete. It had been over thirty years since he had last seen the temple's walls. Of what he could remember were only vague memories. It is near… I can almost smell it!
As the sun sank behind the trees, they arrived at the castle gate. It was drawn open in anticipation of their arrival and as they reached the courtyard their leader dismounted. The rest followed him into a banquet hall, where a feast had been laid out in their honor. Seated at the head of the table was a lady fairer than any of the men's comprehension. With skin as pale as fresh cream and tresses of brilliant vermilion. As if in a trance, each sat down at the table, never taking their eyes off the beauty. She raised her palms in welcome.
"And so you have come," said the lady, a slight smile on her pale lips, "so long have I awaited your return, Emon," she said as she looked on the leader with eyes as green as emeralds. He returned her gaze familiarly then paused for a moment before he spoke.
"Duty has allowed me the privilege to reenter these walls. And it is my duty that I carry out the Ancient Incantation. Tell me, High Priestess, is it true that the Maiden has appeared in your vision?"
"Yes," said the lady, "I have seen her. You shall meet her soon." With that the lady excused herself and retired to her quarters, leaving the company of men to rest. Among them was a youth named Wander, who had been chosen to become a Guardian by Emon. Only young men who had been seen by the Shaman Lord were given the honor to become Guardians, champions of the one and true God. It would take their lifetime to fulfill the duties of the Order, an old alliance of men who pledged themselves to protect the temple and its priestesses from the evils of the world.
When the feast was done, Emon led the men to their sleeping quarters. It had been days since any of them had seen their beds, and most fell asleep in an instant. Only one remained in the hall, not being able to sleep. His young mind raced with the events of the last few weeks. His coming of age ceremony, then his encounter with Lord Emon and how he had been seen by him to become a Guardian. Then his thoughts turned to a more distant memory, one of a girl with long dark hair and big, black eyes that seemed to draw him in. If only he could remember her name. Disdained, he threw a pebble out into the courtyard.