The First Sparks

Prologue

A tall man in a dark silk robe wandered the halls of a dark grey building. He trailed his hand along the wall finding the scratches in its surface. Dust came off the wall and got on his fingers. He rubbed it off on his robe and kept walking, he was taking his time. After all, he had all the time in the world.

Unless she was coming.

He ignored the old doors and broken furniture in each room he passed, all of it was garbage, and forgotten. Like the people who once lived here. Who ruled here.

The man found the room he was looking for, it was no different from the others. It had its couch, a chair or two, and a table. Or what was left of those at least. He ducked under the door frame to not hit his head, straightening once more inside the room.

Cobwebs seemed to fit in every nook and cranny available, and dusk littered the room. No one had been here for a long time. No one was supposed to come here, not ever. But desperate times had driven him to desperate measures, and he had to do something. He had to do something before it was too late.

There was one thing that set this room apart from the others, unlike the other rooms, of which were almost identical in size and contents; this one had something completely different. Something one would consider... peculiar.

The man went up to the fireplace. It was a small, brick enclosed fireplace. There were signs of use, of course no one had used it in years but once upon a time it had kept someone warm on a cold night.

The man knew for a fact that it wasn't just used for a fire, not at all. Despite the charred marks and rotting logs, the fireplace was hardly used for its regular intentions.

The man sighed, knowing the hard part was upon him. He ducked down and started to crawl into the fireplace and looked up the chimney. It was hollow as expected, but rungs led upwards, leading into the unknown.

The darkness seemed to beckon him upwards, inviting him to play in the dark, to toy with the secrets hidden deep within. Hidden in a place so ancient and dangerous that no one would dared enter. But the man wasn't a fool, and he knew the dangers that hid up there.

But no matter how smart he was, his common-sense was fought back by the desperation that urged him to come to this forbidden place to begin with. He needed to go up there.

So with a deep sense of regret he grabbed the first rung, the old rusting metal bit into his skin like tiny teeth, poking and ripping at his grip as he pulled himself up to the next.

The chimney was very tight, which wasn't the most ideal for someone of his size, but through the pain and the tight spot he pushed through. Pushed through until there were no more rungs and no more chimney. Until there was an open space he climbed into.

Immediately he knew he should not be there. The darkness ripped at his cloak, tear at his feet and whispered in his ears. The shadows told him what he wanted to hear, told him what to do. But he had to push through, they were nothing but an illusion. Nothing but a distraction left to defend the real danger.

He ignited a red flame. It burned slightly above his palm, growing quickly into the size of a tennis ball. The flames licked upwards, howling like wolves the flames cried in hunger. It wanted to burn, it wanted to destroy and consume. But he would not let that happen.

The light shone around the room he was in, it was small. It had to be otherwise it would be easier to find. The small room held nothing in it but a large triangular box. Just big enough to hold a small person inside. The roof once again forced him on his knees, and he shuffled forwards towards the box.

Now before it, he held his hand on the lock that held it shut. Instantly he could feel the magic coursing through his veins. It ran like hot fire in his blood, burning his entire body and numbing his hands. But the power made him feel strong, fast, and unstoppable. The man was a strong mage, one of the best. But the power he felt would make him a god.

He sighed letting go of the lock, wishing he could tame the un-wielding power that was held in the lock. But he knew that having that much power would destroy him, the only one who could hold that power was gone. This was the only thing they had left behind.

If he could take the magic and go, he would. But that wasn't what he was here for. He was here for what was in the box. An amateur would think that based on the lock, the triangular box would hold unknown arcane power. But the magic in the lock was there for a reason.

It was there to hold something in.

He held his hand on the lock once more, this time it was for real. There was no going back. He concentrated, if he did this wrong he would die for sure, the magic would grab his heart and destroy it. It was too powerful for humans, no one could ever have power like this.

No one should have power like this.

He closed his eyes deep in thought, his brain deep at work.

"Stop." Calls a faint voice from behind him.

Breaking his concentration he looked behind him, annoyed.

"Please stop, don't do this."

It was Angela. I should of known she would come, she always cared too much. I scowl, "you know I have to do this. You can't stop me. You won't stop me."

She stood on a the ladder near the top, her head was just visible. Pulling herself up she scowled as well, "For gods sake just think of what you're doing right now. Just think of what you're about to do. You can't control it for ever."

I knew she was right, I could't just let it out and leave it there. With the little power I had over it for the time being, it would soon gain strength and do as it pleased.

"I'll make a deal with it, give myself more control. And I can even seal it back in with the lock, I'm not going to throw it away, there'll be precautions."

"Why do you lie to yourself, Kieran?" Angela asked, not giving any indications of what she was getting at.

Kieran stayed silent, he knew she was right. But he had to do it, and he had to do it know. He turned his back on her.

"You should leave now. If I don't come back assume the worst."

Kieran heard a sniffle, no doubt followed by tears streaming down her face. She turned and climbed back down the chimney. He waited until he couldn't hear her anymore.

He held his hand on the lock for the third time, felt the power through his body, felt the struggle in opening the locked box that should've remain unopened for another millennia.

And then it opened, bringing a darkness which swept over him, unseen but felt. His flame went out instantly.

 And out came the Whysp.