The Gifted Curse [DISCONTINUED]

Prologue

Hi, everyone!

I would like to apologize for making you wait for so long.

Despite the several hiccups we encountered, Char and I give you the prologue: starring Tango.

This was written by CharoletteBuurn and I hope you readers like it.

Enjoy!
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It was the kind of day that was always in fairy tales. The day that had a cloudless sky with birds singing their songs. Where the grass was green and the trees tall. Where people had simple joy, in their simple but elegant homes.

A community of people with bonds forged by years of friendship and commonality. The friendship forged as they toiled together. Tilling their own wheat for their bread, raising animals for food, forging their tools, these people were self sufficient.

Their ancestors led them to this place, so this place they would stay.

The houses ranged from stone foundations and strong wooden walls to stone and brick walls and concrete foundation. These buildings were all arranged in a town called Falsewell.

Surrounding this town on all sides were wheat fields, only broken up by the main road leading to Hermitville, Hermittown, and other nearby towns.

One of the farmers was out in his field, preparing his crop for the summer harvest. While the day might be one of a fairy tale, the heat was certainly not.

Perspiration beaded on the farmer's forehead as he toiled under the boiling sun. It would be well worth the harvest that would come of the labor. Food for his family as well as the neighbors when he traded with them. It was in everyone's best interest to work; if you don't work, you don't eat.

In addition to feeding himself, he also had a wife and two daughters to take care of. He wasn't blessed with a son, so he had to get a hired hand to help him. Thankfully the young man was adept at using a scythe.

"I'm bringing in the next load Mr. Taylor!" The hired hand called out.

"Alright, I still have some more to do." Mr. Taylor hollered back. Grabbing the scythe with his strong, callused hands, Tango swung back his arms in the motion driven into him. The severed grain heads fell to the soil, creating a sound much like a dead thistle hitting the ground.

It was around midday, his wonderful wife was sure to have the midday supper ready in the house. Once he had gathered the rest of this area, he too would head back to the homestead.

The grain had been gathered in the cart to be taken to the silo to be filtered.

Right when Tango grabbed the handles of the cart to push it, he felt a shadow pass over him and with it a cool reprieve. That's odd, he thought as he looked up at the cloudless sky. Nothing should have caused that...

Shrugging it away Tango lifted the cart with ease and started walking back to the homestead. He was but a mere minute away from reaching the silo when a massive gust of wind knocked him off of his feet. His vision blurred as his head hit a stone.

With the gust the world went into a state of darkness as Tango faded into the realm of unconsciousness.

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Pain. Blurry vision and pain. That's all Tango could remember as he groped for something to pull him up. His vision was pulsing as he feebly tried to get off the ground and failed. Rubbing the back of his head where it had hit the stone resulted in still wet blood on his fingertips.

He set his red hand on the ground to wipe away the blood and gave a look around. His vision was slowly coming back to him and he perceived that it was still very dark around him. He could hear panicked shouting that sounded like his family, but it was hard to tell under the fog in his brain.

As he attempted to get up once again, he noticed the faint smell of something burning. He noticed a brighter light coming from next to him, getting brighter.

"Ahhhh!" He yelped as he realized his hand was on fire. The flame didn't hurt, but it was warm. He quickly stamped out the embers that escaped to the dried wheat. His hand continued to burn, despite his attempts to put it out.

Looking around he found the well nearby and thrust his hand into the water. Tango gave a sigh of relief as the flame sizzled out, leaving his hand feeling cool in the water.

So now that led to a question, how did his hand end up on fire, and why didn't it hurt?

Tentatively he pulled his hand out of the water, only to have it light up in flames again.

"What in the blazes is going on?!" Tango exclaimed as he shoved his hand back into the water, promptly extinguishing the flame. He was stuck right in the well, as his fear of fire overruled common sense. Actually screw common sense, his hand kept lighting on fire for no reason and didn't even hurt? There was nothing sensible about what was going on right now.

Looking around, he spied a bucket that usually was used to transport water. It was especially hard to see in the darkness that had overtaken the world, but he managed. Part of him told him that he should use the strange seemingly harmless fire as a light but he ignored that part of his brain.

It was quite difficult to grab the bucket while his hand was firmly under the surface of the water but Tango managed. It was much easier to scoop water into the bucket and keep his hand submerged.

After tying the metal bucket to his belt, Tango took a long look around the field shrouded in darkness. He had to check on his family.

Tango knew the plot of land he owned well enough to tread on it blind, so it was no problem finding his way to the homestead. When he reached the house, he found the door ajar, barely hanging off of the hinges.

Fear struck like a lightning bolt into his heart at the thought of his family hurt.

Striking a match to light a candle, Tango nearly dropped the already stuttering flame.

Chairs had been thrown out of placement, furniture was ripped up, wood splintered. Claw marks gouged out the walls and drops of blood led to a small puddle of the still wet blood in the center of the room.

Tango dropped to his knees at the puddle and felt his entire body shake. His wife. His daughters. Gone. Missing. Perhaps even dead.

"Nooo!" He yelled out to the ceiling, pulling his hand out of the water without second thought. For once it didn't light on fire as he touched the blood on the floor, tears welling in his eyes.

Whoever did this would pay. And Tango would make sure of that.

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Hey, everyone!

Hope you enjoyed the start of this book!

The first chapter will be about Impulse and Zedaph.

See you in the first official chapter!