Hi everyone, this is my first time writing a story, so I hope I didn't do too bad a job. XD I took a few days putting my ideas together, and as you can see, this is just the prologue. Though quite short, hopefully it can perk your interests enough to ask for more. My grammar and range of vocabulary may not be that good yet, but please enjoy!
The first hours of darkness of the fifteenth century were black. Unknown to most people who were awake that evening, there was a slight difference in the air. felt by only the highest of majes. The dark was dimmer, the air was murkier, and the clouds were thicker. Something was going to happen that night, yet no one knew what.
The atmosphere in the Hall of Avvenire was tense. The world of Eludicia had been falling apart the last several years. Wastelands were appearing all over the magnificent continents, and every maje that belonged to this great hall knew that this realm of majik needed to be saved soon. No maje said a word, yet all in that great hall knew. A forgotten prophecy was about to begin.
From a corner of the large room, a shelf started to glow. Everybody immediately turned their attention to the ledge filled with books.
"What's going on?" "Where is that light coming from?" "Is the world finally coming to an end?" "That's impossible, it's too soon!" All the majes were anxious.
Just then, a scroll slid out from a crevice between two books and unrolled itself before their eyes. It was blank, but the voice of a young boy rang out, echoing across the spacious hall.
"On the first night of the fifteenth century,
a child will be born in this world."
Beneath the sky of Eludicia, a silver-haired man held a bundle in his arms. He stood gazing at the stars, looking down at the baby he carried whenever it squirmed. While most newborns would be crying, this child just stared at him, almost with knowing eyes.
The silver-haired male studied the baby girl. She had black hair and silver eyes, her skin a pale peach complexion.
"You are indeed unique, child," murmured the man. "I may have foretold your birth and your place in the prophecy, but never would I have imagined you to have such special qualities. Silver eyes are a rare sight, and not many majes are born with the power that you have either. Perhaps you really can change this world."
The girl did not seem to have heard, as she had already drifted into a deep slumber.
The majes gaped in awe at the floating scroll.
"What is this?" asked a pale woman with deep, amethyst eyes. She had never seen or heard anything about floating scrolls despite all the knowledge she had acquired over her hard years of studying.
"It's one of the scrolls of prophecies foretold by the Great Oracle Lys!" rasped the old maje standing next to her.
"A prophecy foreseen by Oracle Lys?" said the female maje.
"Yes," replied the old man. "Oracle Lys is the great oracle who, according to ancient scripts and legends, was the one who prophesied many happenings at the very beginning of time; the beginning of our world, Eludicia. So far, he has not been wrong even once."
The woman watched the senior maje with curious eyes. "I've heard about him before, it is said that Oracle Lys is still alive even now. However, despite all the rumours about where you can find him, nobody has ever found where he resides."
The boy's voice continued to sound.
"In his seventeenth year, his voice will be heard.
Accompanied by a loyal friend, five will join, and more will he meet.
With the power of creation, restoration, and destruction,
little by little, his journey brings him to change the world."
As the baby girl slept, the silver-haired oracle watched her. He reached inside his cloak, pulled out a pendant hanging on a silver chain, and placed it around her neck.
"Your journey has begun, young one. Yours is a long path, and you will encounter difficult times. As you travel, you will find trustworthy friends. Have faith in them and they will guide you."
Everyone in the hall was completely focused on the voice that resonated through their ears.
"Guiding him through, six will stay by his side.
A group of seven.
Teardrop in the Skye."
As the last of the voice faded away and the empty scroll fell to the floor, the majes' eyes danced around the pitch black room, each wondering to their self if this prophesied child could really change this rotting world.
Walking down the narrow streets of Wintermist, a small town in the Air Continent, the man who carried her stopped outside a large, old building. Wrapping the blanket tighter around the small body, he placed her on the doorstep and touched her gently on her forehead, whispering to her as he did so.
"Grow up to be strong and healthy. Let us meet again in seventeen years, Cieli Skye."
A/N: I hope it was worth your time. I do realize that some of the ideas seem a little similar to other works out there. However, my ideas are still expanding, and I believe that things will get more interesting as the story develops. (My ideas seem to be rolling in one after the other whether I like it or not.)
So, please feel free to give me some feedback, and hopefully I'll receive your thoughts on what you think of my story so far. ^^
Just to let you know, it does look a little strange, but I did NOT spell 'magic' and 'mage' or anything like that wrong. It was done on purpose. ;)