As light falls, darkness rises. The dead will walk the land and the just will face destruction.
One becomes two, twice over and twice again.
Cast aside from form and being to live apart but never alone.
Rejoined they shall bring light once again.
Footsteps rang along the stone floor, sandals slapping in furious force with the urgency of the task at hand. Gray robes billowed with each step as he raced towards the murmur of low voices just ahead. His face grim with determination he ignored the pockets of darkness between the meager light cast by the torches on the wall. Rounding a slight curve the object of his flight came into view. The heavy door was slightly ajar and brighter light spilled into the corridor from within. Not pausing in the slightest the man, his young face lined with worry beyond his years, pushed the door with all his might and burst into the room. Older men in black and white robes paused in mid-conversation, startled by his sudden appearance.
"Master!" he called, only a slight hitch in his breath.
"Calm yourself, Wilef,"
"The Seers, Master!" He hesitated more just the briefest of moments.
"Speak!" The Master commanded slightly annoyed at this interruption had not yet borne fruit.
"They have seen darkness.... destruction." He paused, "they have seen our doom."
The crowd in the room erupted into furious conversation. Each having their own opinion and outcome for this revelation. Their whispering rose in volume, each octave overlapping the other until no one voice could discerned from his neighbors'.
The Master started at Wilef intently. "Quiet!" he roared. The room echoed with the sound of his voice even above the utterances of the men in the room. As one the silenced themselves and waited for his pronouncement. "When?" he queried of Wilef.
"They come now, Master....."
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
Mystic
Viễn tưởngA land torn by war, a prophecy to bring peace. Two world colliding, one full of magic, the other unaware they are not alone. Only a select few can save the land of Mystic.
