Outlaws | An Eclipse | [Vol.1]

Prologue

The wind roared like thunder as an old man with a crooked, wood cane climbed the steep slope of the mountain. Lips cracked and bleeding, the man shakily pushed through the relentless rage of the wind. His body trembled, threatening to give up on him before he reached the top, but the mage didn't let that stop him.
          The world was going to end. Every city that ever stood was going to be in ruin. There wasn't much time to waste. The man already knew what the source of the world's demise was, but he had no way of stopping it. Not on his own, at least.
          The taste of blood refused to leave his tongue as more seeped into his mouth from his broken lips. The man's hands were also bleeding from the cold. Whenever he had to move a few rocks out of the way, his hands stuck to whatever he held do to the sticky crimson.
          It took the man a few more hours before he reached his destination. Hands and Lips covered in dry blood, he opened a hatch on the side of the mountain and ducked inside. He dragged his cane behind him and then closed the hatch. Though the room wasn't much warmer than outside, it provided protection from the angry weather.
          "Illuminate," The man rasped under his breath.
          As if the room had a mind of its own, torches were lit almost immediately. The fire burned a deep green. The room was filled with old books and odd objects. The place looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years.
          The old man hurriedly ran over to a shelf and started sifting through books to find one that had no name to it. He pulled it out and scanned the pages as he flipped through it. Once he reached a certain page, he utter a word that sounded like gibberish and a light flashed in front of him, covered in mist.
          "I- need-" The man was cut off by a coughing fit. Blood coming out onto his arm as he over his mouth. As the coughing died down, he got his bearings and looked into the mist. "I need someone," He said through gritted teeth. "Someone who can-" He coughed. "Help me."
          The mist did not respond for a good while, but when it did, it burst into an imaged of a young girl.
          The girl looked to be fifteen years old. Light brown hair resting on both sides of her shoulders, her green eyes glistened. Her smile showed pure mischief and excitement. Though she looked a bit pale, the image showed her outside in a town full of people.
          A little girl? The man questioned in his mind. Well that can't be right. He can't bring a child into his work. Not only that, but how was a child supposed to be skilled enough to aid him in his cause.
          He his gazed into the image of the girl. there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he must have said the spell wrong. Or maybe the mist had misheard his request.
          A little girl. . . .