Young Writers Society

(Authors note: Here's the prologue for the story I was working on, I already posted the Info guide for the story, if you didn't read it check it out on my wall :D)

A gust of wind hits Lyra’s face as her boyfriend Ryker flies past her with a laugh, his wings beating strong against the breeze. With a deft maneuver, he swoops down and catches their pet Fillen in his arms, the small Aerian bird squawking indignantly. Lyra follows close behind, her own wings stretched wide as she glides effortlessly through the air.

"Gotcha, you troublemaker!" Ryker calls out with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Fillen squirms in his grasp, pecking at Ryker's fingers with his sharp beak. Lyra chuckles at their antics, the sound carried away on the wind.

As they fly, Lyra can't help but marvel at the beauty of their kingdom spread out below them. Aerithia, with its towering cliffs and cascading waterfalls, stretches out as far as the eye can see. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape.

As they spot their home they dip down below the tree branches landing on their doorstep, Fillen hops out of Ryker's arms and darts inside.

"Another adventure, huh?" Lyra teased, nudging Ryker playfully.

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her. "Wouldn't have it any other way," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Inside, they prepared dinner together, their movements easy and familiar. Lyra chopped vegetables while Ryker tended to the fire, the scent of roasting meat filling the air. Fillen chirped happily from his perch in the corner, eager for his own meal.

As they ate, the sky outside darkened, and the first rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Lyra glanced out the window, a frown tugging at her brow. "Looks like we're in for a storm," she remarked.

Ryker nodded, concern flickering in his eyes. "I'll go secure the shutters," he said, standing up and heading towards the window.

As the night wore on, the storm outside grew fiercer. Rain lashed against the windows, and thunder shook the walls of their home. Lyra lay in bed, listening to the sounds of the storm, a sense of unease gnawing at her insides.

Suddenly, a loud crash of thunder jolted her upright in bed. She sat there wide-eyed, her heart pounding, and shook Ryker awake. "We need to go to the council," she said urgently.

Ryker blinked groggily, then nodded, recognizing the seriousness in her tone. With a swift movement, Ryker takes to the skies, his wings beating against the oncoming wind. Lyra follows closely behind, her own wings straining against the powerful currents. The storm grows stronger with each passing moment, lightning crackling ominously in the distance.

As they fly, the wind whips at their faces, stinging their skin with icy tendrils. Ryker's movements become more erratic as he fights against the powerful currents, his muscles straining with effort. Lyra grits her teeth, pushing herself to keep up despite the growing fatigue gnawing at her muscles.

As they approach the council chambers, Lyra's heart pounds with apprehension. She knows that the safety of their kingdom depends on their ability to come together and weather the coming storm. With a deep breath, she pushes open the doors and steps inside.

The council members are gathered around a large table, their faces drawn with worry as they discuss plans for evacuation and shelter. Lyra clears her throat to get their attention, her voice steady despite the fear that churns in her stomach.

"We need to act quickly," she says, her words echoing in the hushed chamber. "The storm is approaching faster than we anticipated, and we must ensure that everyone is safe."

The council members nod in agreement, their expressions grim with determination. They begin issuing orders to mobilize the city's defenses and evacuate those in the path of the storm. Lyra and Ryker join in the efforts, lending their strength and expertise to the task at hand.

Just as they are about to finalize their plans, a commotion erupts outside the council chambers. The doors burst open, and a messenger Aerian comes flying in, his wing injured and bloodied.

"I bring urgent news from the other kingdoms," he says, his voice strained with exertion. "We have received word that something has happened, and they request our presence in the peace hall at the center of all the cities."

Lyra and Ryker exchanged a worried glance. Whatever had happened, it was serious enough to require the attention of all four kingdoms. They nodded to each other, then turned to the messenger. "Take us to the peace hall," Lyra said, with determination in her voice.

The messenger nodded, then took off into the stormy night, Lyra and Ryker following close behind. As Lyra and Ryker make their way through the storm-lashed streets of Aerithia, the howling wind and driving rain only serve to heighten the sense of urgency gnawing at their insides. The once bustling city now lies deserted, its inhabitants seeking shelter from the wrath of the storm.

As they approach the peace hall at the center of the city, Lyra and Ryker take their seats, joining the others. The atmosphere is tense, filled with an air of uncertainty. And as they await the start of the meeting, Lyra's mind races with thoughts of the ancient prophecies that have long been passed down through Aerithian lore. For generations, the scrolls have foretold of a great storm that would come every 100 years, heralding the birth of the prophecy child who would unite the four kingdoms and bring about a new era of peace.

But as the centuries passed and the storms came and went without any sign of the prophecy child, the people of Aerithia had begun to lose faith in the ancient tales. The idea of a chosen one born from all four kingdoms seemed more like a fanciful legend than a tangible reality.

Yet now, as the storm rages outside and the city lies in turmoil, Lyra can't shake the feeling that perhaps the prophecies were true after all.

They are met by representatives from the other kingdoms, each bearing a similar look of concern and uncertainty. The atmosphere is tense as they gather around the ancient table at the heart of the hall, illuminated by flickering torchlight.

"We have all felt the power of the storm," says the Solarian representative, his voice echoing in the cavernous chamber. "But what does it mean? Could it be that the prophecy child has finally been born?"

The question hangs in the air, unanswered and fraught with possibility. For the first time in centuries, the people of Aerithia dare to believe that perhaps the ancient prophecies were not just tales of fantasy, but glimpses into a future yet to unfold.

As they await further news from the other kingdoms, Lyra can't help but feel a surge of hope in her heart. Perhaps this storm, with all its fury and chaos, is not just a harbinger of destruction, but a sign of a new beginning—a chance for the prophecy child to fulfill their destiny and bring about the unity and peace that has long eluded their world.