Spoiler
This is the story the man in the prologue tells the kids
A dark figure ran hurriedly. A dense wall formed of trees slowed it. An icy wind raced above the forest. The figure moved unsteadily, barely able to breath as it squeezed through the razor-sharp thorns. It moved toward the only clearing in the only forest, and finally it stumbled, and fell face first on the dirt ground.
The silhouette turned into a person as the moonlight emanated on it. He had the face of a man that was scarred but also bore fresh wounds from his trek. Blue eyes, as hard as stone, glowed dully with an icy fire.He lay on the ground panting, a slight grin of malice rose on his face. His breathing gradually steadied, and he stood up. Beneath the red streaked robes he held something. Dirty hands clutched it to his chest like a baby. But he stared at it with disgust in his eyes. His stare focused on what he held, then his crystal eyes glossed over.
---
The room was packed with wizards, the most vile, conceited mortals. They stood, wounded and dying together around a table made of polished white stone. Even as blood seeped onto the floor, not a single wizard grimaced in pain. Pain was weakness, and a true wizard never showed weakness. None of them spoke; speaking out loud had become too vigorous so they probed each others minds with pictures and feelings, which was a far more accurate way to communicate.
The room was hot and stuffy, and sweat mingled with the blood. The wizards stood still and expressionless. Moments pasted and a wizard that appeared superior to the rest, as he stood tall and firm, croaked out a question,
“Who-will die?” He asked and his tongue wet his lips. The wizards stood still and motionless. Humility came before the fall in their minds. Tears began to form in the speaker’s eyes and immediately the rest of the wizards’ flashed him a look of disgust.
“The world will fall, Humanity will fail,” he said, this time in their minds, piercing like a dagger. His hands arms raised, and his hands clenched into fists. “We’re going to die. Who will carry it?” His fist slammed onto the table.
The speaker’s eyes slowly moved over the wizards in the room, with disappointment glistening in his tears. Suddenly, a young wizard stepped forward, brown, sweaty hair pasted to his bowed head.
“Keep your head up, for you will keep it, unlike the rest of the scum here that let their pride destroy them,” the superior wizard spoke, into only the volunteers head. He raised his head, to show a scarred, pale face with two crystal blue eyes.
“You mean I will survive?” the boy asked, shakily as if even talking with his mind tired him. The superior wizard did not answer, he just handed the boy a black cloth that was folded in a bundle around something. The boy held it as if it was heavy and gazed at its contents. A charcoal sphere, the color of night itself: perfectly formed like an intricate piece of art. It reflected a dull black light over the boy’s face. The boy’s lip curled up in disgust and then he screamed.
---
The boy ripped his gaze from what he held just as a disfigured monster leaped out of the forest towards him. His eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. The monster was like a cloud of dark acrid smoke, swarming around the boy as he stood frozen. His lungs retched for air but his fear made it impossible to breathe. He just stood there like nothing was happening then his mouth opened again in a silent yell. This time fire followed. Thick black flames spurted and torched everything near it. The boy just kept on screaming as fire spewed out in a fire storm consuming the forest and the mist that suffocated him. He fell down his face slamming into the ground, causing blood to ooze out of his nose. The forest was now blazing around him and it lit up the scene as a black crystal ball rolled slowly out of the boy's robes and into the flames.
