Young Writers Society

A/N: If you haven't read part one of the Prologue, please go read that before you resume reading here (merely for continuity sake)

Outside, Purple-Coat and woman found themselves in what used to be a potion master’s garden. Where once grew various reagents, now only rubble and wood laid. The rain had grown from a drizzle to a proper downpour in the time they had spent in the potion room and brewer’s station, and as sounds of fighting broke out behind them, the two opened the small gate in the fence around the garden and ran down the cobblestone alley that divided the store buildings.

The sound of thunder and wind seemed to intensify as the man and woman exited the alley onto a larger street. Battles seemed to be going on behind the row of buildings on the opposite side of the road, the echoes of spells hitting wards or objects ringing in between the thunder’s booming bass notes.

“Which way?” the woman asked, her voice sounding both out-of-breath and afraid.

Looking up and down the street, Purple-Coat had no idea where they could possibly be in this large city he once called home. He was unable to ponder their whereabouts for much longer though, as shouting behind them informed him that their associates had been defeated by their hunters.

Turning left, he grabbed the woman by the arm not cradling the box and ran up the slight slope, rain battering them from all sides. The sounds of fighting grew louder and nearer as they climbed the slope. Reaching the top of the incline though, they discovered the reason why. Ahead of them, an intense skirmish of dozens of mages was being fought, spells, curses and wards flashing across the street, between the buildings, and from upper levels of the city amidst the still-growing storm.

As the man started turning to look for a new escape route, a sharp cry rang from the woman as she collapsed beside him, dropping the box to hold her side, where blood started reddening her shirt. Reaching down to help her, Purple-Coat was held back by the woman rebuking him.

“No! That box is more important than me. Go!” the woman said, pointing at an alley behind the man.

Hesitating only for a brief moment, Purple-Coat snatched up the box and sprinted into the alley, dodging between the debris as he heard the woman cry out one last time.

Making several turns, the man was suddenly brought to a halt by a large gate, no lock visible for him to magically unlock. Hearing shouts behind him, he reacted on his instincts and hurled the box over the gate, pointing his wand at it midair. “Aporipto!” The box sped across the gate into whatever lay beyond as the man cast the expulsion spell. It's fate now rested in the hands of whichever gods still gave a damn about this realm.

The shouts nearly on him, Purple-Coat turned around to prepare for his last stand. His wand at the ready, he cast quick ward just as the first figure rounded the corner. “Kolaphizo!” The pursuer, a dwarf male, was thrust against the far wall of the corner, banging his head on a fallen beam of wood and slumping down either unconscious or dead.

The second pursuer was more cautious, and had a ward prepared when the man attempted the same tactic, countering in turn with a Plemmura spell, causing the rain to shoot in a torrent at Purple-Coat, breaking his ward.

Slightly stunned by his ward shattering, the third man used a Lithinios spell to stun the second pursuer, following this by blasting several bricks from an overhanging building to fall on the pursuer. However, before he could recover from the broken ward, Purple-Coat felt magical ropes form around his upper body, immobilizing him.

Looking up, he saw a woman turn the corner, obviously having been the one who conjured the ropes. Before he could cast the spell to break the ropes, however, the woman casually waved her bony hand. “Apecdumai.” The man’s wand flew from his hand, landing beside the locked gate and out of reach.

“You have nowhere left to run.” The woman said as she walked closer, her white cloak soaking with water. “You have lost. Your associates are dead. Give me the box, and I’ll make your death swift and painless.”

Purple-Coat laughed as he struggled against the rope bonds. “I guess you’ll just have to make my death long and painful then,” he said, “because you’re never getting that box from me.” Several flashes of lightning and deafening thunder filled the sliver of sky visible between the buildings lining the alley.

“Very well. Have it your way.” The woman said, pointing her hand towards Purple-Coat, another streak of lightning making her silver eyes flash with cruel malice. Seeing the spell’s words form on her lips, the man closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

Just then, three long tolls of a bell sounded, drowning out the thunder, wind and rain as they stung the ears of all those who heard them. As the last toll rang, four voices sounded as one, at the same intensity as the three tolls just prior to them.

Chetai na pesei chronu zasthenei

Ke zoi gnet anpothek

Mechri plerothei chreos phaskomlei

Magei phugei pantek

As the last line faded and the thunder resumed, several seconds of nothing more than rain falling on his greying hair and purple coat followed. Confused, he opened his eyes to see why his executioner had not passed his sentence. Seeing a look of terror on her face, though, confused him even more.

“What are you waiting for?” he shouted in another roll of thunder.

“It… it can’t be,” she said, looking up at the sky before turning back to the man. “It won’t matter what I do to you now. All ends will have the same result.”

“You’re not making any sense!” The ropes binding him were biting into his arms, making his voice sound pained.

“Nothing matters anymore. Not even you and that pitiful box.’ With that, the woman turned around and darted from the alley, leaving the still-bound man in the rain-soaked alley.

But before the Purple-Coat man could take in what just happened, an extreme fatigue suddenly came over him, engulfing his whole body as he plummeted to the earth in darkness, the echo of a bell’s toll ringing faintly in his head.