Prologue.
He walked, steps gentle and quick.
He had his mask on, half white and half black, the middle a vertical zigzag line.
His cream-coloured cloak ran down his back and lightly brushed the cold marble floor.
Lit torches on the walls showed the way through the narrow hallway.
Paintings hung on the walls.
One showed a lion fighting another lion, one red and one blue.
Under the painting was written: 'Valia braes eriecta valia drohas ateas.'
He smiled at the contradiction of it all.
He walked on.
He saw a painting of a man falling off a cliff. He had a cloak on, a bloodred-coloured one, and on it stood the crest of the Fire-Breathing people, a red gear. On the cliff stood a man, a man with a mask just like the one he had on.
Under the painting was written: 'Aelas nous crece ae sereos.'
Again, he smiled.
"Oh, but you are wrong. The Aeos are traitors, yet they grow wings at will." He thought as he walked on.
Finally, he reached the door at the end of the hallway.
The door was solid gold, with bright light showing from the other side of the door.
He laid a gloved hand on the handle, sighed, and pulled it open.
Bright light erupted in his face.
After that it went to normal lighting in the room.
"Quite a light, huh?" He said.
The woman on the bed smiled at him, showing off her bright white teeth.
She had blonde hair, light brown eyes, a slender face, and pale skin.
Her hair was long and straight, and hung to her waist. She wore a light green gown, and a thin gold necklace around her neck.
In short, a beauty in all.
"You saw that? I was practicing. They say if I get really good, they'll let me roam free around the Castles." The woman said.
She had a soft voice, as though talking cost her a lot of effort.
She shifted into a seating position.
A mask laid next to the pillow on the bed. The mask was just like his.
She could take her mask off... so that means she's not a common Normal.
She is a Perfect One.
"Then you should continue practicing, milady," He said, "Vallerio might stay true to his word."
"Oh I'm certain he will, but I don't feel like practicing, now that you're here." She blushed.
"Oh, I see." He said, for lack of something better to say.
"Indeed. So come sit next to me, milord."
"Do you know my name?" The man asked.
The woman spoke immediately.
"Of course, milord. Your name is Vaeos."
Vaeos took off his cream-coloured cloak and let it slide to the floor.
Under his cloak, he wore soft yellow silks and yellow leather pants.
On his waist, a belt was strapped, but no weapons, safe for a black and red gun.
