The Fall of Power

Prologue

"Listen son." My father grabbed my shoulder.

Tears streamed down my face, blood splattered along the bottom of my shoes. I was shaking, from shock and the cold. Rain poured down from the storm above. It had been clear this morning, a nice sunny day full of laughter.

"That, thing, was going to kill you."

"No! He- he just wanted to play ball!" I swatted my father's hand off me, it left fingerprints of blood.

"The Tainted are dangerous, bloodthirsty monsters. It would have killed you." That's not true!

I was looking down. I could see his hand grip tighter on his sword's hilt. The sheath hung from his side. Blood dripped down the blade's edge, his clothes stained in deep crimson. I balled my fists. Raindrops slid down my skin.

"He, he just wanted to play." My voice was small in the thundering of the wind and rain on the houses around us. He wanted to play.

"No. It wanted to lure you away." I looked up.

My eyes met with his. My father's face is pristine and clean, the only hint of fighting was the small scar that clipped his eyebrow. He told me and my siblings that it was from a Tainted with the talons of an eagle. I never believed him though, eagles were calm unless provoked, or at least that's what my book said.

"You don't want to leave your siblings do you?"

"No! No! No!" I shook my head, and water flew out in all directions. I would never leave them!

"Then stay away from the tainted." He stepped forward and bent down.

I was enveloped in a hug. I buried my face in his shirt, my hands gripping the now torn over-shirt that laid on his shoulders. The person had gotten away, but my dad had slashed at them. They were playing ball with me and said they could float the ball, I had asked them to show me. They had seemed nervous, now I know why. The wind had rushed around them and the ball levitated in front of them before my dad had attacked. The wind was calming and warm, but it became a storm of cold wind, and icy rain.

"Come on. Let's get you inside munchkin."

Dad scooped me up in his arms. His sword laid in the grass, I know he'd come to pick it up later. The two of us stalked back to the house. Over my dad's shoulder, I could see the bloodied sword in the grass and the small torn-up pieces of the ball. The wind had completely sliced through it when it- they, panicked.

I was set down on the porch of my home. The covering overhead blocked out the rain, but the wind still whipped around in agony. Whistling through the trees and banging against the windows. The wind chimes on our neighbor's porch clanked around almost as if to send a warning.

A warning for the Tainted.