► Prologue

From the silence of the morning came the distant clatter of hooves as the grey-feathered animal, swift and unflagging, galloped into the city of Éllan. A cloaked figure could be seen, his long silver hair flailing in the wind. He rode on through the quiet streets, and did not rest for he saw neither man nor child. A gust of leaves circled beast and rider as they travelled upon the pebbled ground. Raising his head, the rider laid eyes upon the magnificent pearl structure that rose before him. The beautiful spiral walls glinted in the half-risen sun, filling him with a fresh sense of determination. He clutched the reins tightly; it would not be long now.

With a piercing screech, the animal charged on. The breeze rushed past them, exhilarating them, giving them purpose. He would find Rennor in time, for the sake of Éllan, for the sake of his people.

The great talons of the beast ripped into the grassland, spreading dust through the air as they pulled to a stop outside the palace. With one swift movement, the rider drew back his hood and revealed a worn, crinkled face and a pair of sharp emerald eyes. His leafy skin shone in the morning light.

‘I trust that you come with good tidings, Lord Doric?’ a voice came from the pearl steps.

Doric bowed his head graciously, and dismounted off the skyren. ‘Indeed I do,’ he replied. From the shadows of his robes, he produced a roughly woven pouch. A moment’s unease flooded through him, and he cast his gaze towards the town square. The flapping of the Council banners filled the silence. With bated breath, he passed the delicate pouch to the younger man.

Rennor’s eyes gleamed as he laid eyes upon the package. ‘At last,’ he breathed. He loosened the strings and within a quick movement, he had slid free from the fabric a silver hand-mirror. He closed his eyes, enveloped by its mystical power, and slowly traced a hand over its elaborate carvings. Oh, how he had waited for this moment.

‘Come, Rennor,’ Doric was impatient. ‘I have shown my end of the bargain.’

The Éllannian exhaled heavily. ‘Very well,’ he said. Without turning his head, he summoned his voice: ‘Shiverick! Reveal yourself.’

A boy no older than eleven appeared from the grand pillars of the Palace. His eyes were hollow and his clothes just a coil of rags. Doric could not help but shiver at the boy’s demeanour. ‘You called for me, sire,’ his voice was sour.

‘Bring forth the package,’ Rennor gestured towards Doric.

Shiverick stepped forth from the pillar, and placed the bundle in the arms of the rider.

Doric’s eyes softened – revealed before him were the delicate features of a newborn child. The infant was fast asleep, naïve of all that had happened these past few weeks.

‘You continue to surprise me with your love of their kind,’ Rennor’s voice was impassive as the boy once more melted back into the shadows. ‘They have brought nothing but destruction to our world.’

‘I am not as easily fooled as the others,’ the aging man replied. ‘I know what you have done. But do not fear – I am not here to strike you down. What has been done will remain so. I only wish for peace to reside in Éllan.’

Rennor studied him curiously. Although their wills often clashed, he held great respect for the elder. ‘You would be willing to give anything for this child. Even give up your title as the Guardian?’

Doric’s cheeks stiffened. ‘I am not proud of what I did, but I will not allow another of them to suffer by our hands.’ He turned away, and cast his eyes towards the orange-flecked sky. ‘No, the infant shall be raised far from the bloodshed. It shall be a far humbler life, true, but alive and innocent the child shall be.’

Rennor sighed; the Éllannian had become soft in his elderly age. ‘Do what you think is right,’ he spoke with an air of carelessness and waved his hand in dismissal.

Doric carefully hid the infant within the crinkling of his robes. When Rennor saw that he was ready, he stepped back from the path to make way for him and the large hoofed creature. But a look of hesitation had crossed Doric’s features. ‘What shall become of my title?’

For an instant, it seemed that Rennor’s lips would widen into a sneer at the man’s naivety. Only at the last moment did he reveal to Doric a thin, charismatic smile. This expression was of a dry committee speaker outlining the profitable future if they so chose to elect him. ‘Naraiya shall be given a new master, but not until Éllan prospers as it once did. I shall have to summon you once more to complete this affair, but it will not be for quite a number of years.’

The whines of the grey-feathered beast shattered the air. As graceful as the whispering breeze, the animal and rider rode forth from the Palace and became just a speck in the parting mist.

A/N: Please review and critisize my work if you like. If anyone could suggest a better opening, that would be great! Remember, if you review my story, then I'll be sure to return the favour