Prologue

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"Just like our eyes, our hearts have a way of adjusting to the dark." ~ Adam Stanley

                                                               (Aesthetic "Don" by Inkedwriter)

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(Aesthetic "Don" by Inkedwriter)



The shrewd cerulean eyes staring at him foretold a certain peril, one that, perhaps in that altering moment, he should have heeded, but there was no undoing its happening. The frail figure garbed in a black, velvet cloak wagged a condemning finger and weaved her wicked curse, muttering those ill-fated words that forever cast him to darkness.

"I curse you, Don Rossetti!" She spat, her voice, once compared to the sweetness of milk and honey, was now discernible with bitterness and hostility. The power he had come to loathe and fear reflected fiercely in the fire and ice of her stare, fueled by black magic and the dark tide of emotions gone awry. "Let your face bear testimony of your betrayal to me and the pain you have inflicted on my heart!" her finger remained poised between them and that unrelenting power pooled around him as she uttered the words that would forever become him.


The resounding growl of thunder, supported by an onset of rain, lured Don Rossetti from his brooding thoughts, and momentarily he'd forgotten the here and now of the cold, stone walls of his forlorn and perpetual existence.

He braced before a window, peering out into the night as a torrent assailed the outer walls, exerting its ferocity with a fleeting crack of lightning to illuminate the blackened sky.

Suddenly a rapping reverberated throughout the room, drawing him away from the window as he snapped in a guttural tone, "What is it?"

The door cracked open with a protest of rusted hinges as his steward, Edmund, an old-hand of wrinkled countenance and thinning hair, stepped into the room. "My apologies, my lord, but there is a man below requesting a word with you."

Don stiffened. Who would dare impose upon him? No one dared to brave the walls of Rossetti Keep lest they encountered the menace existing amid its shadows. The man was either inadvertently unaware of the danger or was a damned fool of the highest order with nothing left to lose. Whichever the case, he had no intentions of being disturbed.

He waved a hand dismissively in the air, "Send him away."

Edmund cleared his throat uneasily, "Forgive me, my lord, but the man refuses to be turned out."

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