THE ELEMENTAL CHRONICLE

Prologue |

Prologue |

I noticed the man quickly and when I looked at him I could see him staring at me. It was strange—I always noticed people first, but this man noticed me. It was as if he could see through me, he could see the truth that lay beyond my face but it didn't scare me. The cloaked man moved almost like one of us through the crowd. I'd never seen anyone prowl so easily through the temple and yet he did without an ounce of fear.

When he approached me, he looked down at me. There was no hate nor envy, just relief and curiosity. The reaction had my fingers moving slowly up to my neck where the silver pressed against my jugular. I should go back into the shadows, I should continue cleaning the alter steps but I couldn't bring myself to do so.

Talking to this man could get me in trouble.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.

I shifted from foot to foot carefully, "I don't have a name."

"You must have a name," he replied slowly, "Everyone has one."

For a moment, I pondered his words before I shook my head again. Perhaps one side was bound by names, and perhaps the other side was chosen by names but I was a child of the middle and we did not have names. We were cursed children, we were not allowed names.

"How old are you?"

That I knew.

"I've just turned five sir," I told him.

There was a small smile on his face but I couldn't tell if it was rooted in sorrow or relief—I was terrible when it came to understanding emotions. They were so much alike, so fragile and breakable. Not to mention I was not allowed to harness the power they held.

The man squatted down to my level—another strange behaviour. He smiled again, this time the action creased the corner of his eyelids and I recognized the emotion of happiness. I knew I should step away from him, I could feel the eyes of my Masters watching us now, but I couldn't step away. This man felt warm, so warm it made my bare toes wiggle despite the ice patch I stood on, and it made little bumps form on my arms.

"In five years my daughter will turn five," he chuckled.

I found no relevance in this, "In five years many will turn five."

He paused, "That is very true."

It was then I could see his eyes shift behind me, he knew they were watching us. I expected him to leave me now. Sometimes one half or another would attempt to understand children like me but they always left. Once I think their words filled me with hope, but I knew better now. There was nothing like hope for children like me, my kind was cursed. I'd long understood this to know better than to hold regret.

"You're very smart for a five-year-old," he chuckled, looking back to me.

I've been told this better, but it was common. Those of the middle often understood more than either half. It's because we didn't belong, and we had to understand that quickly if we wished to continue allowing breath to fill our lungs.

"Tell me little one," he said quietly, his voice dropping, and his hood now covered even his lips, "If you had the choice, would you leave here?"

My eyes widened and for once I felt surprise, "Leave here?"

"Yes. I cannot promise you freedom, instead I'd offer a different kind of imprisonment. It'll be worse than this, it'll be cruel and unforgiving but I'd offer you a perspective..."

"A perspective?"

"Of one half," he replied, holding out his hand, "You wouldn't have to be in the middle. You could live in one half and..."

My heart beat quickly, I didn't understand it—was I sick?

"I'd give you a name."

A small gasp tore from my lips and instantly, I took his hand. A name. My very own—who could say no to that? I'd take every beating this man could offer and I'd do so gladly if it meant I had my very own name. I could feel tears form in my eyes and turn to ice before they reached my cheeks, I nodded slowly.

"Good boy," he chuckled, scooping me up into his arms.

As he did, the chain around my neck broke and he pushed my face into his chest. There was lots of noise, I could hear a fight I think, and I could smell something. It was a delicate scent and floral—I think it was roses. He was very gentle as he held me, and I think he was a kind man but not in battle because very soon, I could also smell blood.

Soon, his hand left my head, and I looked up. Gone was the temple, and even the mountain. We stood in a place I'd never seen before—we stood in a forest. Around us the trees seemed to react to the man, they bloomed with flowers and even grass sprung from our feet. I wiggled my toes in it, a small smile of wonder passing my face.

"My task," I then said, looking back to him, "What will you do to me?"

He smiled slightly, and placed his hand on my head, it felt warm.

"You will disguise as my half...and you will be the shield to my treasure."

"Treasure?"

"That's right," he said, "No matter what, you must never forget your task. Your life belongs to me and my treasure. Even if I die, you mustn't ever forget your duty. Only then will I name you, and if you ever break this duty, you will return to being nameless, and you will return to being of the middle. Do you understand?"

I nodded, it sounded cruel but fair for a middle child like me.

He looked up to the leaves, "I will die soon. Once my child is born I will die."

"Why?"

"To protect my treasure, I must hide it, to hide it I must use a forbidden magic," he replied slowly, "This magic will first take my life and then, one day it will take my wife's life."

It didn't make sense, what treasure was worth such stakes?

"You wish me to then guard it?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yes."

"Is this treasure worth such price?"

When he looked back to me, I gasped. His hood had fallen and the look on his face—it was of pure devotion. This man did not fear death, he did not fear anything but losing this treasure. When he smiled, his entire face lit up.

"This treasure will heal this world," he said, "It will heal everything."

I could almost laugh, the thought was so silly and yet he seemed so convinced.

"Ok," I then said, "I will do it."

If he was so convinced, if this man held no fear for the sake of this treasure then I was sure it would be a better fate than a fate of nothingness as a child of the middle. So I agreed, and with that, he pressed his hand to my head, and I felt that warmth again. He lifted me, and pressed his lips to my ear. My fingers dug into the shoulder of his cloak and I could feel tears fall down my face—happiness. Happy tears and this time, they rolled down my face without turning into ice. Maybe it was the warmth he'd given me, or maybe and finally, I had gotten beyond the ice.

"Your name will be..."

When he spoke it, I truly felt like I had belonged.

Even if it was all a lie.