PROLOGUE

1510 Words
Along the hallway, hurried footsteps echoed as a little child with black long braided hair was towed by a woman whose black complexion brightened up with her white tunic. The young toddled behind as she tried to keep up with her long and quick strides until she stumbled down on the polished concrete floor. Not a cry or even a whimper escaped from her tiny thin lips, an unusual and brave reaction from a six-year-old child. When she gathered herself up on her own, the lights on the torch sconces attached to the concrete wall were turned off. Darkness reigned over the hall, almost, the glowing white tunic of the women provided enough light they needed. The high priestess who was also her godmother scooped her up and carried her in her strong arms. With the electricity cut off meant those filthy hairy beasts had infiltrated this sacred temple was the thought of the priestess, turning her pace more briskly. A wall with alternating rows of bricks and stone, a seemingly dead-end welcomed them when they veered right. The priestess put down her goddaughter, and her long, slender hands fumbled on the rough wall searching for something the little girl couldn't decipher. When she touched the right brick, she pressed a small button that blended well with the greyish color of the wall, it was impossible for the n***d eye to spot it. A keyhole soon peeked out, and the priestess took off swiftly her necklace where a key was dangling in it. She placed it in the hole, and the wall separated into two only to reveal an. In the middle mounted a small keypad with numbers, which was manipulated in haste by the priestess. It was 83312, the child had memorized that combination for the past two days, though she had no clue what those numbers were meant for, up until now. Again, the third wall glistening in silver appeared. It had a small monitor on the side, and the priestess briskly turned to it and held her face closer to it. As it scanned her green eyes that dilated, her dark pupils turned yellowish. The child looked in astonishment at her godmother's eyes, though they shared the same color except her pupils were dark bluish. As the priestess stepped back and eyed the wall shaking, she was confident no one could breach these walls, not with the additional security she had come out. Those had an enchantment the purest White Witch herself had conjured that only she and her little goddaughter could touch it without burning into ashes. And technology was what most magical beings couldn't or wouldn't understand. Spells and technology were indeed a lethal combination. This time, a small room welcomed the two as they stepped inside, but the priestess strode to the opposite door, leading to a dark staircase. "You'll find the same walls at the end of the staircase. Imitate what I did and you'll be out in the ground. From there, you should know what to do," she said, the sense of urgency clearly reverberating in her voice, as the child trotted behind her and listened attentively. The high priestess kneeled to face the child that stood now on her side and put into her the silver necklace she had used to unlock the first wall. "You remember it all, my brave little one?" she asked, this time, in a soft, velvety voice. The child responded with a nod, and her godmother placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. If only the girl knew it would be the last, she could have wrapped her small arms around her neck to give her mentor and second mother the warmest and tightest embrace. "Go, little one. May Freya's spirit guide you," she whispered before she stood up and handed her a small torch lit by fire. With the fire lighting up the dark place, the child got a clearer view of the longest-spiraled staircase she had ever seen, causing her to be reluctant to take a step forward. Feeling her hesitance, her godmother lightly tapped her back, giving her the necessary push to traverse down the dark staircase. The child finally descended with the torch in her right hand without turning back. For her, it appeared to be more than one or two hours had passed before she reached the last flight, not daring to rest even though her feet were already sore. A silvery wall caught her eyes, and she mimicked what her godmother did to unbolt it, the same with the other two. When she stepped on the soil ground, the wall behind her closed down. Focusing on her next task, she put her fingers on her mouth and whistled twice. She waited patiently for any hooving sound her sensitive ears could detect and ignored the rustling of the leaves or the creak of the branches as they bent and swayed against the strong howl of the wind. With the darkness and wind forming a formidable alliance to topple her down, the thought of giving up never crossed the child's mind. Instead, she whistled again, this time, producing a louder shrill enough to overpower any other sound. After a few seconds, a faint clop of hooves striking the ground that was turning louder as it neared had the girl's lips curved up in a bright smile. The black horse, blending with the dark night it was almost invisible, stopped in front of her and lowered itself on the ground to make it easy for her to climb it over. She had been training riding for three weeks with this horse whom she named Thunder, so she never feared the creature. The moment she got settled, clutching tightly the reins, the horse went galloping in the dark woods. The sharp cold wind was like an amass of needles prickling her white delicate face while her long black cloak flapped wildly behind her. Barely seeing nothing except blurry streaks of darkness, the girl fully trusted Thunder would bring her to a temporarily safe destination. Only when her godmother's plan would be fulfilled could she freely breathe with ease. Cries of pain mixed with screams of terror broke into her oversensitive ears. An uncontrollable shiver ran down her spine caused not by the coldness of the dark night, but by those distinct wails liken to those tormented souls under the depths of hell, pleading and weeping for help that would never come. When her head turned sideways, where those tormented sounds were most prominent, flames of fire were raging and spreading throughout. Even from afar, she was certain that was her parents' village. Was her mother safe? Will her father, a mere mortal, protect her? With all his life, her mind instantly responded. Then, that meant, they would...No, she wouldn't entertain those thoughts. Her godmother vowed to protect them. Tempted to look back and broke what she had promised to her godmother, she had turned her head ever so slowly but snapped it forward at the end. A quick peek wouldn't hurt, she convinced herself. More determined than before, she glanced back and searched the temple at the topmost mountain. Tears swelled around her eyes until a lone tear rolled down with the scene that confronted her--the most sacred temple was getting burned down. Untamed flames were like a wild monstrous beast shattering mercilessly, unrelentingly up until the white small temple, her own home, would crumble down to ashes. Next, the most piercing, terrifying howl coming from that mountain and reverberating down the entire woodland seemed to have put everything at a complete standstill, from her horse slowly stopping and lowly whining, the cries of misery putting into a quiet hush, and the strong wind halting its unyielding force. Even the blood in the child's veins seemed to have frozen in fear. Only when the longest howl stopped did the horse dash decidedly again. The child rider, however, had filled her mind with one question: Would her godmother survive? Of course, she's the high priestess, the messenger of the gods and goddesses. Taking her life or even daring to hurt her equaled to offending the gods and goddesses. Whoever that boldest culprit would be doomed to unbearable misery in his lifetime and beyond. With the desperate cries growing louder and the fire raging wildly, she imagined her parents and godmother getting devoured by the fiery flames. And the darkness scintillating in glimmer that was surrounding her felt like sucking her up. As strong as the child might be, she was soon overwhelmed with too many emotions, fear being the most prominent one. As all her strength slowy dwindled until completely drained, her small fingers let go of the reins. The child's little figure fell down in slow motion just as her life was crashing down in a single night. Before her body could hit the ground and feel the pain of the hard fall, she closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness openly with the thought she would be reunited with her parents and godmother.
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