Book 1 - Gorgon's Gaze

Prologue

The Keeper strode purposefully between the towering shelves, the small orbs lining them lighting his form as he wound his way to wherever it was that he apparently needed to be.

He was tall, not quite young — but hardly middle-aged — and wore long robes of midnight black that gave him the appearance of a wraith gliding to feast. His face was screwed up with an expression of determined apprehension, and he occasionally threw quick glances down the rows that he passed, as though scanning for interlopers. He twitched at every distant clatter, every echoing creak. The sounds of thousands of ancient shelves shifting naturally, or the telltale indications of lurking danger?

The Keeper finally began to slow as he came to an opening at the far end of the Hall, from which thick cerulean fog wafted. Beyond was a chamber, apparently lit by a spectral glow far greater than the millions of coruscant balls on the shelves. The Keeper drew his wand; a dark, richly carved thing, and entered.

The small room resembled an office, and along the walls were runic inscriptions in all manner of ancient script. Parts of the assorted cuneiform and hieroglyphs were radiating the blue energy, and must have made sense to the Keeper as he examined them with palpable anxiety.

"Týr... Gēr... Hobble and two strokes," he said, his voice sounding hoarse. "Thurisaz... and the House... The dragon or serpent... The eagle, no, the rook?"

Biting his lip, he turned at once to the desk opposite the doorway, upon which sat an elaborately carved basin — the source of the cerulean clouds. The basin was full to the brim with a blue potion that was, at present, bubbling ferociously. The liquid seemed to move as though it were a living thing, dancing and leaping about, though not a drop spilled upon the hard stone floor.

The Keeper approached cautiously, his wand rising before him. He motioned with his wand and an invisible force seemed to settle itself over the room, concealing all sound from escaping. Up close to the basin, the Keeper could see ephemeral patterns that swam about in the glowing elixir, mysteriously fading in and out. With his wand, he tapped the basin's edge once, twice, before stepping back.

From the basin, two miniature figures emerged. They were oddly suspended in the air, and below them hovered words — their names. One of them was speaking, their harsh voice echoing eerily. The Keeper listened intently, letting the dreadful words wash over him. He gazed particularly upon one of the figures, with horrid recognition etched upon his features.

When the display had fallen silent, the Keeper quickly approached. He waved his wand in a complicated motion, muttering strange words in some tongue. At once the figures dissolved and began to coalesce into a single shape. In a matter of seconds, the figures had spun into a glassy ball much like the countless in the Hall, complete with a radiant blue core.

Seeing the new prophecy suspended in the air, one could almost convince themselves that this orb was nothing but a harmless light fixture, but the Keeper was under no delusion in regards to this cursed artefact. Shaking his head slightly as if trying to loosen cobwebs, he swept from the room, the spun-glass orb following in his grim wake. He made his way through the rows of the Hall, glancing at the numbers counting down with every new shelf.

Finally, he found the row he was looking for and made his way halfway down its length, the shelves on either side creating the claustrophobic sense of walls encroaching. The Keeper stopped and looked at a vacant space between two orbs whose lights had extinguished entirely. As if sensing that their journey was complete, the new orb floated down onto the shelf, sitting just above an empty plaque. Once again the Keeper waved his wand, and the plaque suddenly shifted, a series of letters etching themselves across its bronze surface.

The Keeper stood there, gazing at the prophecy with trepidation. Amber eyes belied deep thought, though gave no further clue as to what assailed his sensibilities so. After several minutes of near absolute stillness, he turned from the shelf and left, marching with much the same expediency as before, his wand held at the ready.


"You're out at an odd hour, Carter," said the watchwizard as the golden lift deposited the Keeper into the enormous atrium.

"Urgent call," he replied shortly, his voice echoing oddly in the wide chamber.

"I'll bet it's better than having to deal with a baby and pregnant wife, though, right?"

The Keeper didn't respond, he simply crossed the cavernous room to one of the many fireplaces along the walls and threw a handful of powder into it. Once he had disappeared in a flash of viridian flame, the watchwizard rolled his eyes.

"Unspeakables," he muttered to himself. "Grimmest lot I ever saw. You'd think it was the end of the bloody world."