Mitzi - no title
By Selene Silverwing
Prolouge
In a flash of lightning blinding to the eye, her eyes
popped open with a start as she sat strait up. Sweat dripped from her body as she pushed her covers off. There was no storm
to speak of outside, just the lightning that flashed from the heavens to warn her. Her breath was quick as she stood and glanced
out the window. She rubbed her forehead to wear off the weariness of the waking start. Outside the moon cast and eerie glow
of a light red. Tonight was the first of four enchanted ones. The normal world after this, she thought, it will never be the
same. Your eight children will see to that whether you know it or not.
She gazed up in the sky at the moon, taking in its energy to give her strength she didnt posess.
The moon hung in the vast sea of black velvet and stars. As she closed her eyes she could hear the humming of the surrounding
mountains and the ringing in the winds. Both in harmony with one another. Then came the accent to the hymn, her sigh.
The legends told of this very night. Carried through generations, even though the modern times
of this century had pushed out the thought of magic, they would prove them wrong. On this night of four, two children shall
rise, and the second, and the third, and finally the fourth. Those eight children would change the world through a force not
comprehendable by any means. The legend tells of their future and the way that they shall destroy all mankind knows.
The woman walked over to the foot of her bed and got into an ancient oakwood chest. Inside, she
grabbed a silver athame, a scroll, and a silver ring. She walked toward the door and stopped. She looked back at her bed and
sighed heavily. If only I didnt have to, she thought to herself.
The legend itself, in her hand began to give a strange energy off, while the wind whispered its
words through the curtains of the open window:
When the wind blows feirce,
the sea crashes against the shore
and roars high,
Fire ignites the nights light,
the earth shakes and shatters.
The nights of four, the chosen will rise
dark and light on the same night.
Those in which spoken will ensue in battle,
a battle that leaves a ill fate on the world.
Misery haunts the souls that fight,
born on a moon of crimson light,
oucast and forbidden are they,
abused in where they reside.
Darkness and light shall rage in a feirce and
deadly competion of power.
those who have been cruel to those last standing
shall see the wrath of those.
Then as they repent thier ways and misguided beleifs,
this book will close and the fate of mankind
will at last come to an end.
