prologue by annie smith

Prologue

A cool breeze fluttered the papers on the mahogany desk as the sun started to sink below the horizon. Soft pink rays of sunlight were bouncing around the room making the cluttered room look quite homey.
Behind the desk sat a man with dark hair. Although his beard was clipped close to his face, his hair was tied back into a long ponytail, with a piece of black satin that blended into his hair. His eyes were closed and he leaned back on his chair, the heels of his shiny black boots resting on the desk. He was putting out the air of being at ease. Lazily, he opened his eyes and stood up. At the precise moment the soles of his shoes hit the dusty floor, a fine, foggy mist started to float through the large window behind his desk. Faster and faster it came until it was nearly impossible to see in the room.
The man seemed quite unfazed by this. In fact, judging by the excited smile on his face, he seemed to be enjoying the fog. He pushed his chair out from behind him and closed the window. With his slow stride, he walked to the center of the room.
“What is your message?” the man asked as if there was another person in the room.
The fog began to swirl and compress. Faster and faster it moved, almost at a sickening speed. Until it stopped altogether and the form of a girl was floating in mid-air before him.
“It is time. Is it not?” the man said more like a statement than a question.
The girl nodded and the man walked over to the window. As he opened it, the fog lost its form and floated shapelessly out into the clear, dusky sky.
With his gloved hands, the man reached under his robes and pulled out a long, thin, chain from beneath them. A large, ancient looking, key was hanging from the chain like a pendent. It looked heavy, too heavy. Too heavy for the delicate golden chain it was hanging on to hold it. The man took no notice to any of this and quickly took the chain from around his neck. Stooping low his slid the key into the lock of the bottom most drawer of his desk. With a soft click the lock opened and the drawer was roughly pulled open. Out of the drawer he took out an envelope made of creamy parchment. Slowly, he ran his fingers, encased with the soft black leather of his gloves, over the envelope and strode to the door, opening it. He walked through the door and down the hall, his sapphire robes billowing behind him. As soon as he got to the end of the hall he gave the envelope to the man standing by the door and said:
“Frederic, make sure this letter is delivered as soon as the dawn breaks. It is of the most importance that it is delivered as soon as possible.”
“As soon as the dawn breaks, my liege.” Said Frederic in the almost complete darkness. “It will not be a problem.”
The man thanked him and walked back to his room. When he was sitting behind his desk once more, he laced his fingers together and sighed. With his chin resting on the platform his interlocked fingers made, his eyes shown with excitement. Finally, he said, “I have waited so long.” And smiled as a breeze drifted through his open window.