Chains of The Past Prologue |
Slowly, the stricken boy trudged through the temple, clutching his torch to him like his only defense. Terror fed him as he made his way to the alter, not sure if it was real or just a made up ploy to get him killed in a place with such high intensity danger. He was but a sorcerer, barely out of carriage as the people who had tried to prevent his going pointed out. He was fifteen, which was hardly out of the carriage to him, but the woman and children that were of an even younger age then him begged to differ. To them he was but a child, who did not deserve to be sent into the throws of death known as the alter of the dead. But he had been sent anyways. The Men had made it clear that with his magic ability, his strength needed to be shown in the art of sorcery. So he was here, his pale skin turning shades lighter, violet eyes frozen open in fear, ears perked and alert for any danger that may present itself at any given moment. And he was scared. He maneuvered himself to a corner of the hallway, and decided that his best bet was to make a fire to calm and cool the chills that racked him in both fear and cold. He stumbled to his knees, his fingers slipping as the torch fells on to the dampened ground, snuffing out. He cursed. This place would be his death. Focusing his strength and mind, he managed to make a small flame burst out through his fingers. He used them as his new guiding light, as he trotted aimlessly around in search for something to burn that was neither wet nor damp. Finally, reaching out with his hand that was not being used as a light, he felt something large and metal under his hand. He let his fingers roam the cool steel of the object, as he finally realized what it was. To his delight, he identified it as a torch. Bringing his fingers to it, he watched as it lit up in flame, the fire dancing majestically in the container. But for some reason, no smoke came out of the fire. In his confusion, he looked around and realized his location in the alter. Truth be told, now that he thought about it, where he had lit into flames was the alter. He slowly stepped back as he noticed that the flame was moving out of the place it had previously been, and was taking on the shape of a human. Tripping and falling to the floor, the flame that had been his hand was gone, leaving only the flame that moved erratically in an almost dancing formation. Frozen in fear, the boy watched as the flame took on the form of a human. "Who.... Who are you?" The young boy stuttered to the creature of the flame, who merely laughed. It tossed its onyx hair; its fire-blue eyes dancing in excitement at his newfound prey. The tried to scoot back, away from the creature, but he was frozen to where he was. "Are you.... Are you the one that is to heal our Elder? I was sent to retrieve what was in the great temple, at this alter, but all I see is you..." Again the young man watched as the demon/human creature made it’s way over to him. "So you’re village Elder is sick, is that why you’re here?" slowly the tired and scared blonde nodded, his body softly trembling, even with the fact he was next to the flames of the boyish figure before him. "So, what’s your name, boy?" The creature asked, as the blonde opened his mouth to form words. "Se....Seiji." "Seiji? Interesting." The blonde boy remained silent as the figure made it’s way over to him. "Why did you risk your own life to save the elder?" "My town... made me." The boy laughed. "You allow yourself to be run by a simple town? Seiji shrugged. "They raised me, I was in their debt." The boy shook his head, a smile still covering his rather good-looking features. "Fine. I can save your elder." Seiji’s violet eyes widened as a grin covered his boyish features. "You can? Thank you so much! What can I do to repay you for your kindness?" The raven-haired boy smiled. "Don’t worry, I have an idea." Seiji nodded. "Anything at all." Seiji stated, as he waited for the other boy to do something. Finally, the spirit cast a fire in the alter that he had appeared from, pulling out a small vial of ash. "What is...?" The other man raised his hand to stop the boy from talking, as he poured the ashes into the fire. He watched as smoke finally pilfered from the flame that had before held none of the billowing blanket of gray. Finally, using just his finger, he collected the flames, as they disappeared from site. "It’s done." He stated, as he turned to Seiji. "Now for the matter of what you own me." Seiji rose quickly to his feet. "Anything you wish sir! I am forever in your debt." "By the way, my name is Ryo..." The boy stated, smiling smugly. "Your new Master." The blonde’s eyes widened. "What?" He murmured, pulling away from Ryo, and trying to escape, only to find out that the entrance had been sealed magically. A great encryption, one that, with his level of magic, would take hours to un-do. "So young. Innocent and naïve. You cannot escape, and you yourself spoke of the debt that you owed." "But..." Ryo smirked "That is what I wish for. You are to be my worker. A slave if you wish to call it so." "But.... I’m only 15! What use do you have for me?" The spirit’s eyes danced. "Don’t worry, I’ll think of something. I can put you to good use. VERY good use." Sage took a ragged breath as the spirit turned to him, bringing up one hand and trailing it slowly down the golden boy’s pale cheek, then down his slender neck, and finally to his arm. Ryo quickly grabbed the boy’s arm as Sage jumped in surprise. "Come on, boy, it’s time for you to see your new home." Sage gasped in fear as he felt his body fade away from site.
*End of Prologue*
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