Reality is an Illusion
Chapter One – Sunshine and Roses

“They are not normal.”

These were the words used to describe “the Originals” – individuals who had abilities far beyond the imaginations of “normal” humans. Because of this abnormality, the Originals were blamed, hunted, killed, and despised for every unexplainable mishap that occurred. They were the scapegoats for all tragedies and ailments that befell the world; their very existence presented a valid excuse for their extinction. Normal individuals were unable to understand, choosing instead to keep any positive feelings towards them to a minimum.

Because of this hate and discrimination, the Originals turned to each other. They were alike in their differences, and knew that they only way they could survive would be through banding together. But, Fate, a mischievous goddess who loved causing harmless havoc to pass the time, chose the Originals as her next victims. With her tricky hands and even slyer mind, Fate decided to keep them separate and isolated – unprotected – reveling in the mayhem and panic she could cause.

Using reason and logic to persuade the other Seers – the gods and goddesses ruling over the happenings of the world – she convinced them that it was necessary for these individuals to become isolated from each other; that allowing them to continue mingling was only going to cause more strife, and more pain. Seeing the truth of her words from the Original’ history, a majority of the other Seers agreed to this course of action.

A degree was issued by Javed, the ruler of all of the Seers, which ordered them to stay away from the Originals. Destiny, proclaimed adversary to Fate, and thus, the thorn in all of Fate’s plans, refused to heed the decree. She and her followers were of the belief that people who were similar – no matter how small the similarities – must stick together in order to survive. It was the only way they could continue to live; it was the only way to prevent more massacres.

However, when Destiny leveled her counter-argument, many of the Seers had already taken Javed’s decree to heart. As the only “inhabitants” on the First Tier of the Seer’s hierarchy, Javed and his consistent lover, Nasia, were perceived to be too powerful to ignore. After the First Tier, certain Seers, such as Luck, Hope, and Hate, who were more commonly known by the people on Earth, were on the Second Tier in the ranking, and weaker, less-known Seers, such as Protection, Friendship, and Violence were the most common, making up the Third Tier.

But, even though she was a goddess of the Second Tier, Destiny knew that she was right; that the decision to prevent these individuals from living would come back to haunt them. She gathered those faithful to her – Time, Chance, and Love, other Second Tier Seers - and relayed her idea to their ears only. She knew that if they were discovered, any hope for these individuals would be lost forever.

So, in secret, indestructible plan was prepared. With it, the other Seers would have to reconsider, and the Originals would be able to survive. However, the four forgot to take into consideration that nothing is certain in this world; there is always an alternative. When they forgot this, their plan spiraled out of control and all that the decree entailed became useless, for the outcome of the Originals became unpredictable to even the Seers.

While all this occurred, the Originals branched out, forming clans made up of similarly-gifted individuals. Rivalries and alliances formed between the different clans, whose futures were now untouchable by outside forces. These rivalries led to uprisings, and these disturbances then led to war. The Seers had only wanted to do “what was best” for the group, but, when the animosity between Fate and Destiny collided, the Original’s lives were played with, and doomed to an uncertain end.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, after all.

As time passed, the discrimination towards the Originals ended, and the two groups began to mingle again, leading to a large dilution of the powers. However, others were determined to keep these bloodlines strong, wanting and succeeding to have a future filled with generations of individuals with powers greater than the Originals; Sybrohinites.

On the other hand, the continued marriages between the Original’s descendants and the “normal” individuals introduced different traits and genetic make-ups into the world. The genetics within the diluted blood began reacting with that of the ordinary blood, causing mutations. Through this, new, non-human beings with immeasurable power were formed – Duvakon. The Duvakon, instead of having powers, had superhuman strength and animalistic qualities. Because they brought abnormalities and an unspoken challenge for superiority over the humans, the Duvakon were immediately shunned.

This discrimination – similar to the hate directed towards the Originals – led the Duvakon to band together against the humans, and the tides of battle in the war of rivalries began to turn. Thus, the humans searched for a solution, desperate to find some way to survive in a world that they had broken apart with their ignorance.

Unknown to them all, at this time, a deeper, darker threat with no end or morals formed under the pretence of the unnecessary battles. It corrupted all of the humans and Duvakon that it found, using them as pawns in its vile game of deception and lies. Forced to work together against this new evil, some Duvakon and Sybrohinite factions broke the unwritten rules of separation and bred, resulting in Croix – a cross between the races. This also allowed the unwarranted prejudice against the Duvakon to lessen and for the humans to gain valuable warriors.

One would think that the Croix lived the hardest lives; however, now that the “side of good” had gained even more allies, the Croix were considered to be a gift from the heavens. With this unique union of humans and Duvakon, beings with the Original’s powers – magic – and the abilities of the Duvakon were created. Testing their luck, the humans began to “intermingle” with the Croix to try and make more powerful allies. The result was individuals with diluted abilities, and mere fractions of the original amount of power.

Discovering this, the humans set about looking for different ways to create Croix – as if they were some kind of science experiment. The “first” Croix were still in existence, and new ones continued to be born in the “correct” way, but the numbers remained small. However, even though the Croix were appreciated, not everyone tolerated them; they unfortunately found out that grudging respect could only go so far.

Even with the added help of the Croix, the side of light and the side of darkness were only able to reach an impasse. Deciding they did not like this turn of events, all of the Seers met again in council. Hoping for a positive outcome, and yet, sensing failure, they once again tried their hand at fixing what they had broken. Unsurprisingly ending in failure, they were mockingly left with a haunting prophecy.

‘To turn the tides of this ongoing, unnecessary war, five individuals will be forced to repair the damage made by forces that should not have been involved. They, those of three races and four clans, will be given great abilities in order to save the world from the wrongs of others. Until then, the suffering of millions will continue to occur…’

It was then that the Seers realized that their efforts to create a world for the “greater good” had only served to create hate, death, bloodshed, and ruin. And there was nothing they could do.

When this knowledge became widespread, one of the factions, not wanting to be involved, broke away, taking with it all chance of the prophecy fulfilling itself.

And, it was at this moment that the Seers realized that they would only be able to watch in dismayed resignation as the lives of the prophesized were thrown into turmoil.

~*~*~

3:30AM, Monday, March 5
Cairo, Egypt – Africa

The once yellow ground was now stained a dark orange with the blood of the injured; it was disturbing how much could be spilt by such a small group of people. This never would have occurred in Umano, the peaceful parallel universe that was the home of the innocents. Unfortunately, as shown by the barren wasteland of the battlefield in Tigd, this was not the case, and it was saddening to know that it never would be.

In earlier times, an enlightening discovery about the existence of the three parallel dimensions was made. Tigd was known as the dimension of knowledge. As such, it was the dimension that most Duvakon lived in for it was the only one in which they were widely accepted. Because of this simple fact, Tigd had become the dimension where the battles took place; the dimension with the most devastation.

When Umano was discovered, the amount of chaos that occurred was unbelievable. When Tigd natives began waging wars in Umano, a decision was made to monitor the crossings between the two dimensions. If Umano really was to be the home of those ignorant of Tigd’s existence, contact between the two would have to be limited.

Finally Zeit, which was considered to be the original dimension, was the land of the Dead and the Seers. While its existence was a well known fact, no one was known to have ever visited it. The childhood bedtime story claimed that all those who went to Zeit returned with severe and incurable cases of amnesia.

However, there was not enough time to spare on the more intricate differences between the three. Bringing her focus back to the battle at hand, one person reflected on how the fight had been a lost cause from the beginning.

The Vita Protezione section – defenders sworn to battle Tynan’s forces – stationed in Africa had been preparing to start the battle with an ambush. It was discovered then, however, that there had been a traitor in the Protezione’s midst when they charged the opposing black-eyed army.

Fortunately for the Vita Protezione, there was a very obvious indicator for the loyalties of an individual; black meant they had joined Tynan’s side, and any other color meant that they were either allies or a neutral party. Frequent checks of their soldiers’ eyes were considered to be more than enough evidence as to their allegiances. At the most recent check, however, one of their top members, Karius Myron, hadn’t made an appearance.

Ignoring it, as they’d seen nothing but loyalty in the eight years of working with him, the Vita Protezione headed off into battle. However, it was now obvious that he had betrayed them in the worst possible manner. No doubt his eyes – red ones specific to the Derchae clan – would now be tainted black.

Their division of the Protezione had been battling for a good part of the day, and now there were more injured than able-bodied; more fighters beginning to weary. Even with the numerous Esperto roaming around – various spiritual beasts that were tied to their users’ life force – the Protezione’s odds were not looking up.

Rolling out of the way of a set of claws and a ball of fire, Clarimonde, one of the leaders of the Scioresse clan – a tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed woman – glanced at one of her partners. She noticed an approaching Duvakon aiming for his unprotected back, immediately running into the path of the approaching enemy to parry the blow. Unfortunately, the impulsive act left her in an uncomfortable position, forcing her to keep fighting from where she stood.

Thankfully, one of the other leaders in the Scioresse triad noticed her plight and headed her way. Garenth, as a Croix, was a monstrosity of a being with dark green hair and pale blue eyes; a individual consistently given a wide berth by his more intelligent enemies. The normally passive individual spared a glance towards his companion. “Clarimonde, are you all right?”

Startled with their appearances, Clarimonde’s other friend spoke. “Guys? What happened?” Damon, a tall, red-haired man, and the third and final leader of the Scioresse clan was ranked where he was for the same reason as Garenth and Clarimonde. They were all Sybrohinites, certain individuals who had the power to call upon the magic unique to their clan. “Are you okay?”

Clarimonde’s tone was one of barely controlled anger as she impaled a canine Duvakon with her sword. “My most trusted advisor stabbed me in the back – almost literally – half of my soldiers are incapable of battling, the rest of our forces aren’t fairing very well, and you just nearly died. Do you think I’m okay?” By the end, Clarimonde had softened her tone slightly, to show Damon that she was not angry at him, just at the direction the battle was going.

Garenth tried to placate her, his soft voice belying his size. “Well, think of what you can put Karius through when you catch him again.” Her two partners could tell as she did just that, completely severing an approaching Duvakon in two with barely any force.

Damon nodded his agreement. “Karius won’t know what hit him. Betrayal is not a crime to take lightly. But, anyway, look at the bright side of this whole thing. We’ll win this one, because if we don’t, we’ll die. And it’ll be a very painful, gruesome death, to boot. I think that’s a good enough incentive to win, no?”

Even though they both appreciated Damon’s attempt to change the focus of their thoughts, both Clarimonde and Garenth wished he had chosen something else to talk about. “Damon, now is not the time for your failing attempts at humor.”

Mentally shaking her head in exasperation as she dodged out of the way of a downward swing, Clarimonde chuckled slightly. Garenth was right, however, as Damon was the only person she knew who could joke around in such a serious environment. With such a tactic, he brought hope to their forces. “You’re unbelievably stupid. Just fight, would you?”

“But that’s why you love me! And, for the record, I am fighting! See?” After fending off his own set of enemies for the moment, Damon ordered Sagiunas, his owl Esperto, to give him a tally of those downed. More than three-fourths of their troops were unable to fight, but, on the other hand, the same could be said about the opposing side.

His own surveillance was halted mid-swivel however when he saw a group filled with Duvakon and Sybrohinites charging in Clarimonde’s direction. To his horror, she would be unable to defend herself, currently engaged in combat with a wind-wielding Sybrohin-user.

Rashly twisting around – and with his eyes beginning to flash bright blue – Damon went to use his Sybrohin, quickly realizing it was pointless; if he saved her, he would leave himself unprotected. So, he did the next best thing, shouting at the top of his voice to his Esperto, “Sagiunas! Help Clarimonde out!”

Heeding his master’s call, Sagiunas dove in between Clarimonde and her current opponent, distracting the enemy long enough for Clarimonde to take action. Dropping to the ground in a defensive crouch, she could only curse her luck as her previous opponent and the charging group collided with one another, leaving her crushed in between the two sides. Fortunately, her defensive stance protected her from being crushed or fatally injured; however, the stray armor and weapons were creating more than enough wounds to pose a problem.

Thoroughly annoyed, Clarimonde decided to use her Sybrohin again, ignoring the knowledge that her reserves were dangerously low, even if they had had time to slightly restore themselves. Surveying the situation, she decided to use what she had to the fullest. Doing so would leave her magically drained and mostly useless, knocking her out of the battle as a “power hitter”, but there was not much else she could do.

Damon and Garenth finally managed to fight through enough of their own battles to help her with her numerous opponents when a column of blue water exploded from the ground, completely expelling the crowd. Keeping a steady stream protectively surrounding her, Clarimonde stood up, looking terribly haggard. As a member of the Scioresse clan, she was able to control water, as shown by her eyes, currently glowing a light blue.

Clarimonde continued moving while panting in exhaustion, yet too stubborn to rest for even a moment. She was determined to use her powers until she either received backup or passed out. Directing the spiral around her, Clarimonde filtered it away from her towards the ground and then made it explode, splashing magic-filled droplets all over the battlefield. Clarimonde was not worried about her own troops, having already taken measures to protect them before the battle. A small smile of relief appeared on her face as she remembered debriefing the troops about the protection ceremony.

Having had already gathered the troops into the meeting hall, Damon, Garenth, and Clarimonde entered the circular area with a flourish; said flourish being Clarimonde opening her mouth as she took center stage.

“Now troops, you’ll quickly learn that when I go all-out with my powers in battle, I have a slight tendency to lose control.” Clarimonde’s sheepish smile did nothing to raise the confidence level in the room.

“That, my dear soldiers, is an understatement.” Damon commented wryly.

Immediately, Garenth reprimanded Damon. “Be quiet, Damon. Let Clarimonde talk.”

Ignoring her friends, Clarimonde continued. “However, since that battle tactic is dangerous, I’m going to need some way to protect all of you. This brings us to our current place, each holding knives. You’re going to have to nick a finger and pour some blood into this central bowl. Then, we shall chant some pretty words, there will be flashy lights, and the mixed blood will be spread out among us. It’s not as cool as it sounds though, and it might be slightly painful.”

Picking up where Clarimonde stopped, Damon continued with the explanation. “This way, all the Sybrohin users will be able to key their magical attacks to avoid their own blood. If you forget to, well, then, we’ll all end up dead. What do you say to that?”

Wide-eyed looks were seen throughout the room. “Ever heard of subtlety? Or, even tact?” Clarimonde muttered as she walked towards Damon.

“I slept through those classes in ‘how-to-be-a-good-human-being’ school. My apologies.”

“Damon, you slept through the first twenty-five years of your life.” Garenth quipped back.

“Garenth, how dare you insult me so? I thought you were on my side, but now, I know the truth. I’ll remember this when you’re old and gray, and then I’ll push you off a cliff.” Amidst the chuckles and actions of the slowly relaxing troops, Clarimonde proceeded to slap Damon in the back of his head.

“Might I remind you that you’re older than me, Damon?” However, recognizing the hidden message in Damon’s statement, Garenth just smiled and shook his head.

Clarimonde was forcefully brought back to the battle as the explosion injured a good portion of the opposition. Keeping in motion, she summoned her Esperto – a slim water dragon named Cynias – allowing him to gain strength with the stray puddles of water left over from her attack.

Nearly immediately after his appearance, Clarimonde gave him his orders. “Cynias, see the state we’re in? Rather than focusing on protecting our numbers, as you were before, I need you to set about injuring their forces, instead.” When a feeling of agreement ran through her, signaling Cynias' understanding, she continued. "Now, do you what you do best: wreak havoc and destruction across the battlefield.” Watching in sadistic satisfaction as Cynias took off towards the enemy, Clarimonde returned to her own battles, unsheathing and freezing her blade in one fluid motion.

Eyes still frequently pulsing blue, Clarimonde fell into the basic Scioresse stance – her sword hand held above her head with the tip pointed down and her other hand, swirling with raging water, placed in a guarded position for blocking.

Long past the time when she would yell a battle cry to announce her presence, Clarimonde fought to cut a path towards her partners. After coming out victorious over a particularly stubborn Duvakon, she again formed a triangle with her partners. “So, how’re we doing now? Did my attacks even dent their numbers?”

“Yes, they did, although, unfortunately, there’s still a large number left.” Damon looked around at the battlefield – or what was left of it, raising an eyebrow. “Cynias isn’t,” Damon paused for a moment, and then continued on. “The tamest thing, is he?”

“Not really.” Clarimonde rejoined. She was perfectly content to watch the destruction through the eyes of her familiar, wishing she could be doing the same amount of damage.

Immediately though, Garenth quickly brought her back to the battle at hand with, “Your magical assault drained you completely, did it not, Clarimonde?”

Allowing herself a shrug and small, guilty smile, Clarimonde shook her head. “Garenth, would you believe me if I said ‘no’?”

“No, I wouldn’t. Take it easy. We will do our best to protect you while you are recovering.”

“I appreciate it. Thanks.” Taking Garenth’s advice, Clarimonde stopped the flow of Sybrohin, nearly stumbling over herself with the sudden lack of power and took up another defensive stance. ‘I seem to be doing that a lot, lately. Well, Garenth is right. It wouldn’t do me any good to take out a portion of the army and then die because of a stray attack.’ Readying herself for the rest of the battle, she paused mid-block when the action around her froze.

She stood there for a couple of moments, chancing a few wary glances at her opponents and surroundings, never dropping her guard. Barely daring to breathe, Clarimonde was rapidly thinking of possible explanations when an unknown object collided with her. Unable to do anything as she lost control of her body, Clarimonde could only watch in confusion and anger as time sped up again. She was painfully jarred from her confusion when her body blocked an attack.

Clarimonde immediately began struggling with the foreign presence in her mind. The struggle must have appeared on her face, because Damon threw a worried glance her way. “You have the oddest look on your face, like –”

“What’s wrong?” Garenth interrupted.

Unbidden, a second presence in her mind responded, impersonating Clarimonde perfectly. “I’ve just gotten the oddest feeling that something,” the two presences struggled for a moment, with Clarimonde being pushed back again, “not right has occurred.”Clarimonde continued trying to shout at the two, to warn them that something was very wrong, but, every time she nearly freed herself, she was forcefully shunted back to the far recesses of her mind.

Damon and Garenth both felt that something was wrong with the situation, but found no evidence to prove their suspicions. Practically shrugging, the two of them continued on with their distracting, mindless banter. Seeing their decision, Clarimonde nearly gave up on her internal battle, knowing that they would not question her again. She owed it to the both of them, however, to keep fighting.

To her surprise, the presence harshly responded when she renewed her struggles, “For the love of all things holy in the world, would you stop fighting me? Geezus, woman!”

Far past being polite, Clarimonde snapped back at the voice, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Setting the prophecy in motion, all right? So, sit back, shut up, and be a good girl! I swear… mortals these days…”

Ignoring the voice’s order, she continued fighting against him. Distracted by what she just learned, Clarimonde completely missed the ongoing conversation, only paying attention when her mouth responded. “Eloquence is my middle name, I’ll have you know.”

Amidst the banter, Clarimonde slowly edged towards the portal that lay innocently on the edge of the battlefield. Deflecting attacks as she went, she had barely moved a few feet before Damon and Garenth questioned her. “Clarimonde? Where are you going?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me… I’ll be right back!” Her body immediately broke into a sprint, leaving her friends worried and confused at her actions. “You idiotic body-stealing monster, you know that they’re going to come running after me! And, that’ll just get them killed! I will torment you forever if you are the cause of their deaths.”

“Shut up, woman! Shut up! Look, whoo – I waved my magic hands and turned the battle in your favor. They won’t die, all right? Now, leave me the hell alone and let me do my job!”

“You’re doing it with my body! I should get some sort of say, don’t you think?”

“...I would like you to know that you are the reason why I hate mortals.”

Her body quickly jumped into the portal while mumbling the accessing password. Immediately, her scenery shifted and disappeared, reforming into an image that was a far cry from the one she had just left. The lights glowing dimly from numerous dwellings greeted her as she stiffly tried to ignore the fact that she was powerless.

To her peace of mind, she at least knew that, in the immediate aftermath of her uncharacteristic actions, Garenth would’ve summoned his own Esperto, Byllaio – a gorilla made of ice – to fill the hole made by her absence.

~*~*~

Deciding that they had reached their destination, Clarimonde’s body stopped moving. Distantly, she cringed with the knowledge of how exhausted she was truly going to be when the entire ordeal was over. Making a silent surveillance around the small town, Clarimonde’s body kneeled down and drew two crisscrossing diamonds in the dirt, drawing seals on the eight points with the blood from her wounds.

Her body moved to the middle of the intersection, and the blood continued in a steady stream towards the points. Clarimonde wryly commented to herself that, at the very least, one good thing came out of her being so injured. Her unwanted visitor completely ignored her.

The silence was broken as her voice began to eerily chant, and five objects surrounded her. Flashing through a myriad of colors, the objects circled around her, and disappeared into the sky. Waiting a moment, Clarimonde’s body removed any evidence of what was apparently a prophecy-starting ceremony. Her body looked at its handiwork, and suddenly, Clarimonde was forcefully shoved forward in her mind with a slight whisper of, “Thanks, but I still hate you”, as she collapsed in exhaustion.

With the last of her Sybrohin energy, Clarimonde called forth a barrier, encasing herself in a glowing ball of water. Hopefully, someone would come and find her before this last ounce of power faded, or someone from Umano woke up and found her.

At the same time, the five objects continued on to their destinations, setting into motion a prophecy that had been waiting in the wings for nearly one thousand years.

~*~*~

Javed, ruler of Zeit, watched Clarimonde’s actions with an anxious gaze. He saw that she wasn’t in control, but what worried him was that he couldn’t identify the second presence that was overpowering her. Nasia walked over to him, and drew him out of his thoughts.

Javed sighed, knowing that with this interesting development, the other Seers would need to be called in for a council. Motioning a Third Tier Seer to summon the others, Javed moved to the dais and reorganized his thoughts, ignoring the soothing hand on his shoulder.

The hall they were in was a large, white and black, dome-like chamber, split into two levels. The room Javed had come from led onto the second level, that appeared to extend on top of the first, similar to a balcony. Because of this set-up, Javed used the balcony section as a stage, allowing him to watch over and inform the large amount of Seers about developments within the universes.

While staring at a few of the multi-colored symbols on the walls, Javed absently noticed the room beginning to fill up with the Seers, all of who were habitually waiting for the last, perpetually late pair. He held in a deeper sigh as they appeared, immediately resorting to attacking each other.

The two, Fate and Destiny, had teleported in and glanced at each other with plain disgust on their faces. They were far from letting their battle, and the small amount of guilt they each felt, from being so easily forgotten.

“Fate.” Destiny’s eyes smoldered as she looked anywhere but Fate.

“Destiny.” Fate gave a cool, dismissive nod, and turned away, as well.

“So, how has immortality been treating you? Is it still so boring that you have to meddle in the lives of more innocents? The fate of the world is in your hands, my dear. Or, it was, and then you managed to fail, dragging the other Seers with you.” Destiny stated with barely-hidden scorn.

That was a below-the-belt blow, and both of them knew it. “It’s not my fault that you were so encompassed with your own self-centered tendencies. If you hadn’t tried to interfere, none of the Seers would’ve been penalized! You’re at fault more than I am. You don’t run Zeit, you don’t have the power, the knowledge, or the worth that Javed does!” Fate retaliated.

During the argument, the other Seers were slowly moving towards their chosen sides. While Fate had more supporters, most of her followers were only Third Tier Seers, as opposed to the Second Tier Seers surrounding Destiny. Love, a very overprotective Seer started heading towards Fate to defend Destiny, who shot a sharp look in Chance’s and Time’s direction. The two quickly restrained the rash Love, and nodded at Destiny to continue.

Signaling her thanks, Destiny went on. “Well then, going by that logic, you don’t rule Zeit, either. You shouldn’t have interfered with their lives. If you had just left them alone, for once in your life using the knowledge you’d gained in immortality, we wouldn’t be in this situation. We were both being stubborn, and we both thought we were right. In that respect, we were both at fault. However, if I hadn’t done anything, you would have led them straight into a massacre and twisted their destinies – something I couldn’t allow to happen! This change to their destinies would have changed reality as we know it.” There was a nearly audible gasp that went through the air at Destiny’s confession.

Ignoring the atmosphere of the room completely, Fate nearly snarled in rage. “Well, reality isn’t exactly peachy right now. If you hadn’t noticed, sister, none of us have any say in their futures at all. We’re as powerless as the mortals that we’re supposed to protect. We’re useless, they’re going down a path we can’t follow, and thus, whatever happens lies with both of our guilt.” Fate was visibly restraining herself from lunging at Destiny, as she and her faithful followers became fed up with the accusations.

Deciding that he had had enough, Javed cleared his throat, demanding everyone’s attention. “If you’re done bickering, I have called you here today to inform you, ironically enough, of the newest happenings in the Originals’ descendents. Something – ­­­­­­Nasia and I are not sure what it is, yet – has possessed a descendant and performed a ritual that, we think… is the start of the prophecy.” The room filled with anxious muttering.

“Javed doesn’t know what’s going on?”

“The prophecy? Does anyone actually know how long it’ll take to fulfill itself?”

“Look at what Fate and Destiny’s hatred has finally led to!”

“Who knows how this will affect us?”

Javed watched this with a wary eye, and then commanded everyone’s attention again. “While we are not entirely sure what this means, we want all of the Seers to keep a careful watch on unusual happenings within the worlds. Nasia and I will be doing the same, so, if you notice anything out of the ordinary, inform us immediately. We would like to know, even if we can’t do anything about it.”

The other Seers understood the severity of the situation, and immediately hurried back to their designated positions before Javed could even dismiss them. He ran a hand across his face, knowing the next undetermined amount of time was going to be filled with tense, anxious waiting.

Nasia stood off to the sidelines, staring in concern at her partner. Once the chamber was empty, she padded over to him, took hold of his arm, and created a transport to their Zeitian home. Javed barely even noticed, so disturbed by the turn of events. Leaving him to his thoughts, she silently moved outside, and stared up at the “stars” in the sky.

“Please, to whoever you are that has done this; allow everyone involved to stay safe. I beg you.” Nasia bowed her head as turned in for the night, missing five of the stars flicker briefly.

A/N:

So... that was chapter one.
...Which has been posted and reposted about a million times.
Any thoughts?

Happy New Year!