**Redid the prologue AGAIN, so of course, it's longer, and it has a new part.**

**Enjoy the newEST prologue**

**review again if you'd like (hope you do) /wink/**

**Kree**

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"There will be death," a weary voice cracked with a tone of a decaying corpse. "I foretell a great and sorrowful death," a cloaked figure mournfully shook her head. A pair of gnarled, snow white bony fingers curled around the edges of an obsidian colored cover of a monstrously thick hard covered book. Releasing the pages out into the open, her fingers traveled across the table to grasp a quill pen with its feather on fire.

"Don't be preposterous," a lighthearted voice sounding of church bells danced in the air. "You're not going to write in that book, are you?"

"Of course I am," the first voice snapped, and an old woman craned her neck closer into the light of the candle that stood erectly on the table. "It was in the flame in the alter so it must be written."

"And it was clearly engulfed in blue flames," the singsong voice came from a beautiful young woman. She was like a goddess with her river bending tresses of gold and sapphire eyes that outshone the stars. Her majestic garments of pearly white draped her fair and soft skin, and standing beside the old woman with bagged wrinkles was like an oxymoron. The old woman's gray hair was streaming with flecks of white and her gray beady eyes were hard. She wore a dim colored shawl and robes of darkness.

"No, the flames were clearly violet," the old woman retorted, putting the quill back onto the paper.

"Stop, Vesta," she placed her fingers on the dry hand that gripped the quill. "This one isn't going into the Book of Fate. Do you really think that something as horrible as this is bound to happen?"

"Who knows, it could happen. Have you seen the fate of the newborn Venidian child of the King and Queen? Have you seen the fate of his parents? Disgustingly horrifying, but it's going to happen."

"But this one isn't," an exquisite smile crept from the lips of the young woman.

"Why don't you take care of the past and I, the future and fate, Callista?" she rebuked. "Io seems to mind her own business and tends to her own job with the Present."

"But you're about to make a terrible mistake. The boy might not die."

The old woman sighed, fiddling with the quill. "Are you just trying to save the life of this boy?"

"That, and making sure that everything that's meant to happen, will. We can't have glitches in the future, or we're bound to have glitches in the past and present."

She heaved another deep breath and then closed the thick book, pushing it aside. She lifted a glowing golden book, opening to a clean page. Placing the flaming quill at the top, she began to write.

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He dug his shoe into the dirt with an angry look crossing his face. As he sat atop the edge of the grassy cliff side, he straightened his legs out so that they dangled over the edge. It was at least a hundred feet up from the water up to where he sat now. There used to be a fence there, to protect citizens from falling the enormous altitude, but the manmade metal ugliness was to everyone's displeasure, so they tore it down. Nobody minded, after all, it was much more beautiful to watch the loveliness in the sky without it. The risk of falling was of little notice or worry. Besides, where he sat, no fence had ever been built to overshadow the beauty. A path created from the road to another cliff side provided a much more breathtaking view, and though a sign stood at its post with an order of "No Trespassing", he didn't listen. Nobody ever did.

He watched the waves roll encrusted with its pearl white foam as he leaned back against his own two hands pushing against, the cold dirt and grass. The bay lit up with the last traces of sunlight while he sat high above the trees, and he felt as if he were flying right above them. While the ghostly laughs and voices rang melodiously through his head, the cantata of nature seemed to overcome his hearing. The wind brushed through his dark brown hair as his aquamarine eyes followed the sun setting in the horizon. The ground hardly trashed his blue jeans, but even if it did, he wouldn't care. He could always fix it, and it wasn't the worst of his worries. Wrapping his arms around himself, he tried to protect himself from the chilly breeze, though his navy blue sweatshirt did most of that.

"Damn that girl." he whispered to himself, sighing. "Damn that girl." He repeated glaring into the tainted tie-dye sky. He swore again, and again, and again, bringing his legs back up and wrapping his arms around them. He was alone, so his usual behavior check was unnecessary. He remembered when popularity used to mean everything to him, so every day he'd watch over his shoulder, making sure he was acting "the right way". He thought less of it nowadays, but he was still aware, and not completely indifferent to these things. But in this solitude, he thought nothing of it. There was no one there, except the own voices and questions in his head. "Why was she so impossible?"

But even still couldn't get her out of his head either. She'd always been his friend, but never before had felt any other affinity for her. In fact, he found out from a few of his friends that she used to have identical affections for him. Of course, he never noticed it, being that he yearned for someone else then. Now, the only feelings, the only emotions, the only thoughts, were for her. He felt like he hated her, yet at the same needed her. "Tug of war," he thought, smiling to himself in remembrance of their past discussion once, but then he quickly chased the memory away. He couldn't dwell on these feelings didn't want to, at least, that's what his mind kept on telling him to do.

But as corny as it sounded to him, was that what he wanted to do in his heart? Besides, these memories were the only thing that kept him alive. His affections for her were the only thing that kept him going, that gave him incentive to continue his life. He never received anything from her; she'd been a good friend to him for a long time, always being there for him, but she showed no passion towards him. . .until last night. But he still loved her.

He turned his head and spotted a small, black speckled rock. Focusing on it carefully, he lowered his eyes, raising the rock into the air. It glided and floated and then it skimmed across the surface of the water. "Simple magic," he thought to himself, thinking, no doubt, that Julius would have yelled at him had he found out about his useless magic.

"Useless magic", he smiled to himself again, remembering the time he rearranged the stars and brought down the moon for her. Finally, after so many years, she had returned to Terrearth from Venidi, and when he found himself falling for her, there was that one night. That one night when both of them were alone together at this same cliff side, discussing everything that befallen upon them during those years apart. He remembered her bright smile that made his heart melt inside, of course, after it stopped beating . . .

"Shoot, I did it again." He shook his head. Why did he have to have so many memories..why did he have to remember them all, every single one? He couldn't let himself fall , she and him couldn't ever be the two same friends again . . after what he had told her last night. . . He couldn't blame her for not feeling the same as he did. She had her own life, with somebody else she loved, and loved her back. He couldn't take that away from her, or make her give it up for him.

It was the truth, the truth that had been screaming to release itself from inside his imprisoned heart. He had to tell her how he felt about her, it was the only way he could free himself, but even now, he felt like he was chained to the same emotions. He didn't fear her reaction beforehand, even though he was perfectly aware of the entire situation, but after the words came pouring from his mouth like a sprinkler, and saw the expression that crept from the corner of her mouth and spread across her entire face, he knew he should have thought better. But his heart sat on top of his mind, controlling everything he did that night, and the disease that infected his soul would have killed him if he didn't listen. He did listen, but he still felt like she killed him anyway.

Why did she have to be so damn intimidating? Sarcastic? Nasty and downright insensitive? And why did he love her for that.

She was different than any other girl he'd met in all the worlds we had been in. In the beginning he could have never of seen why there was any reason to love her, even though they were friends for years and years. He had different tastes in girls, but she hardly fit any of them. She wasn't extraordinarily pretty, but her appearance captivated him into deep trances anyway. Cold and unfeeling sometimes, she was hardly friendly, but then an uncovered softness has been discovered underneath her barrier. And he loved her for her.

Lost deeply in thought, he never heard the figure come through the woods, stealthily, with his own evil intentions to benefit himself. He never heard the figure take out his gun, a human gun for the matter, and aim straight at his head. But he did hear the frightening sound of the trigger..

And he certainly did feel the shot.

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**Please review!**

**Kree**