Prologue
"Enter," a loud voice boomed.
At first no one responded. Then with a creaking moan two large double doors swung open. A tall, thin man stepped forward into the circular room. He was dressed in a simple white robe that fell down to the floor, pooling around his feet. His head was almost completely bald besides a little wisp of hair which clung to his wrinkled head. A long thin noise poked out between two beady black eyes that never stayed still. Hurrying forward he quickly bowed before the large wooden throne that sat on a raised dais in the center of the stone room. "Your majesty, I bring news, good news," the thin man hissed.
"Indeed?" the booming voice said. A large figure slowly stretched forward from atop the throne. It was a man, easily around eight feet tall. His large, barrel chest was bare besides a thin gold chain which was connected to a large fur cloak that hung over his shoulders. He wore a simple pair of linen pants, and in one massive hand he held a hammer while in the other a small golden ball. "Tell me Horus," the giant man called. His voice was like the sound of thunder, each word radiated throughout the room, shaking the very ground.
"The Kings have done it, they have dipped their hands into the wells of ancient magic," Horus said, his voice thin and quiet. "They have made a deal, and taken a stranger's child as their own."
The large man began to laugh. Softly at first, like a low deep chuckle. His voice grew steadily louder, until his whole body was shaking with mirth. "Yes!" he cried, tossing the hammer aside and surging to his feet as he raised the golden ball into the air. "At last, oh foolish Kings, you have made a deal with the devil himself!"
"What do you wish to be done my Lord?" Horus asked as his eyes continued to sweep the room in a nervous manner.
"Nothing as of now," the man said with a wicked grin. "The Kings have done more for us then I ever thought they would." The giant turned and slowly stepped down from the dais as he moved over towards the informant. He was easily two feet taller then Horus, and his frame was almost twice as wide. He dwarfed the smaller man, and he slowly leaned down till they were face to face. "Go back to the Kings," he whispered, "Summon your priests and prepare the sacrifices as the old ways command. If a stranger's child will someday sit on the throne, then mine will drink the very blood they spill."
Horus merely nodded, fear in his eyes as he turned and hurried from the room. He soon found himself running. It hadn't been a choice, it was a compulsive act caused from the fear that was squirming its way up his belly. So he ran, his feet carrying him away as a large booming laugh followed, echoing off the walls and chasing him down the corridor...
