Here is the Prologue to the book that I have been working on for a while. I got out of the writing funk for about a year but I seriously need to complete this story. It can't die inside of me at all.
Ten candles, alternating between black and white, were set in a circle on the floor. The flames danced, and the room swayed between darkness and light. In affect, a war to gain the most coverage of the room. A man stood on the outside of the circle, holding a purple candle in both of his hands. The black satin robe that covered his body was outlined with gold lining and glimmered in the flickering of the flames. The soft glow of the fire's light made his scalp shine dimly. His hairless face wore a grim expression. He locked his silver eyes on the circle of flames as he began to whisper, speaking the words of an ancient language long dead.
Smoke began to swirl in the center of the circle, stirring up gray wisps. Slowly, the slender traces coalesced into a thick fog. Then, as if a breath had blown through the room, the smoke cleared away. A woman now stood in the middle of the circle, her face expressionless. Her hoary hair draped down her back, past her shoulders. She wore rag-like brown robes that covered both hands and feet.
“Nice of you to join us,” the silver-eyed man said authoritatively. He made sure that he was leading the situation. “Wouldn't be the same without you, now would it?”
The lady looked at him, still without expression and said, “Of course it wouldn't be the same, for it is always my pleasure to join the one I despise the most. Now, what do you want from me?”
The man studied her and smiled. His teeth seemed to glow in the duskiness. “I have a few questions to ask you and I'll try to make them as rudimentary as possible. But before I do, I have to find some reigns for you, lest you decide to gallop off to a different master. This tale is not one for another's ears.”
He started to move his hands in a rhythmic pattern and as he did he spoke, “Your tongue shall be still when you speak of this, your mind shall be empty when you think of it. Your hands shall defy you should you try to write about it, and from henceforth, your words shall speak the truth and nothing less.” As he finished his last sentence, he threw his hands out towards the lady and her eyes quickly turned black, resembling bottomless pits.
“Now to see if I ensorcelled you correctly, I want you to answer me, who am I?” he demanded.
The lady stared blankly at him and answered monotonously, “King Al'Deron of Nova. The first to appear for the throne with the rights and honor.”
“Correct. I see that the spell has worked. Not that there was much to control,” he said with a snarl. “Now speak. What of the Elementals? Last time you told me that they would come again. When shall they come?” demanded the king.
“You are too late,” she responded flatly. “One of them has been born for a few months now.” She added a small smirk that the king took no notice of. “The other is close to being born.”
The king sighed deeply. His eyes looked worried. “The one that is born, whence will he turn?”
“It is too early to tell. One could suppose good or evil, like the usual.”
“Can you tell me who they are?” he asked.
“Not directly. One is a relative of yours. The other I do not know yet,” she said. She stood motionless in the circle.
“A relative you say? I suppose that will make things easier for me. But the other, I have to find out myself. How close is he to us?” King Al'Deron asked as his eyes scrutinized her face, looking for any sign of expression.
“It's a she, and miles towards the west from here in the Incendia Region,” responded the lady, a smile slowly spreading over her face.
“A girl?” the king responded mockingly, taking no notice of the lady's smile. “Ha! I will not believe that it's a girl until I see her for myself. But nonetheless, it makes no difference. I'll still kill them – with my bare hands, if required.” His eyes were wide and his nostrils flared with anger.
“You will never get her,” said the lady. The King looked at her face and his eyes grew wide in shock. Her eyes were back to their normal dark brown, her face showing a lucid smile.
“What did you say, Alana?” demanded the king. He clenched his hands and took a step back.
“I said that you will never get her. Your mind, it is too narrow to see the obstructions that lie ahead of you,” she replied with a sneer. “You will never win and your time will soon be done.” She looked at him darkly, her eyes emphasizing her prophecy.
The king's eyes grew wider with fear and shock as he took several steps back. “How is that possible?” he demanded. “I-I put a spell on you! You have to follow my every command, you-you have no choice!” he yelled frantically. Almost snarling he said, “What magic do you have to overpower me?” He backed into a wall stocked with ominously colored, liquid-filled bottles. Several of the bottles fell over and shattered at his feet, sending plumes of smoke in to the air, but he paid no attention to them; he was fixated on the lady.
“I do not need advanced magic to trick a fool, especially not one like you.” She laughed. A gust of wind whipped through the room and suddenly the lady was gone; only her laughter remained. As the wind blew away, it extinguished the candles, plunging the room – and the king – into complete darkness.
“Well done my Lord.”
“Such was my intention, Cryptist.”