Prologue

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Prologue

    Cloaked in shadows and surrounded by musk, a tall dark haired man walks through a heavy wooden door. He passes over the threshold from a dreary hallway and into a greater light deprived environment.

    Blasts of lightning throw ash and debris whirling through the air.

    One free hand pulls out a padded leather chair making it glide across the brown throw. Sitting, he sets a stack of files down.

    Clashing metal rings through the choking haze.

    Hairline scratches prove the real age of the well kept Victorian, mahogany desk. Slender hands flick  on the light to a white lace shade lamp, and it surges to life giving off a gleeful golden glow.

    Flames flicker between pillars of smoke.

    Behind him shelves full of untapped knowledge and potential rest quietly in their cages just waiting for a hungry reader for their unread prose. To each side, of the holder of knowledge, neat rows of portraits line the gray walls in matching wooden frames.

    Screams of pain  ripple off the ruins walls. I clutch Zakerie's leather handle.

    Going down the line of portraits each painting's style changes considerably along side the dress and appearance of each subject captured in time. The man's face hangs among these painted pieces of hidden history.

    I stumble past the smoke and slide down into a crater. The man I trusted my life to crouches beside a gold, jewel encrusted sphere.

    The black folders are separated into two piles. One consists of regular folders marked to be discarded. While the other pile contains the minority. This minority has the illusion of a golden shimmer shining through the black surface.

    He reaches out.

    Opening the first one his wise, all seeing eyes read over the corrected entrance exam.

    Staggering forward, "Marcus!  Don't forget everything we've been through!"

    Closing it and opening another, he props his head up with his firm hand. Against the prized desk his fingers seem to create the sound of a bass drum sustaining a steady tempo.

    "Who is going to take my place?" a heavy sigh escapes his parted lips.

    "I wonder if it will be one of you."


*Edited 7/26/17*

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