Prologue

A young boy ran through a lush green forest. The trees seemed to fly past him as he ran, escape the only thing on his mind. He wore a loose forest green shirt, almost oversized for such a small boy, with long purple sleeves extending past his fingertips. He wore blue-jeans with one knee-length leg, the other ankle-length. Around his neck was a necklace, with a small ocean-blue jewel the size of a small marble, surrounded by two silver dolphins.

He glanced behind him, blowing a lock of his ear-length blue-green hair out of his face. An arrow whizzed past his face and his gray eyes widened in fright. The arrow had barely missed him, and he was obviously still being chased.

"Get back here, boy!" yelled one of the men.

The boy glanced back again, only to run straight into a tree. He rubbed his bruised head, and turned to face his foes. The men quickly cornered him against the tree, evil grins on their faces. One of the men shot an arrow at the boy, intending to end his life there and then. The boy's hand instinctively flung out, the arrow glowed, then flew past its shooter, barely missing him. He then threw a handful of dust at the men, and the wind picked up, turning the small cloud of dust into a small whirlwind about the men.

While the whirlwind distracted the men, the boy reached into a satchel hanging from his waist, pulling out a small handful of a metallic blue powder. He threw the powder into the air, where it glimmered for the moment, then the it seemed to fuse together, turning into several strands of a shimmering blue substance. The strands twisted themselves into a large rope, and the rope twisted itself into a circle in midair. The inside of the circle was suddenly filled with a strange silvery-blue substance, which the boy jumped into. The strange substance disappeared, and the rope seemed to close in on itself. A single drop of water fell to the ground where the boy had been.

The men knelt in front of a round platform in a pitch-black room. The only light shone on the platform, on which stood an imposing, black-hooded man.

"Master," began the leader, tentatively, "We lost the boy…but, we'll get him this time, I swear we will, just give us one more chance!"

The hooded man held out his hands, palms out, toward the men. Useless fools! The group of men began feeling a strong burning sensation.

"Master!" cried the leader. Cries of "Master!" and "Forgive us!" filled the room. Suddenly, the men burst into smoldering ashes.

"My minions… my elite...," said the hooded man, almost as if he were coveting prized possessions.

A small group of gray-hooded men appeared in front of the platform. The black-hooded man smiled a terrible smile.

"Find the boy."