Onius Gray and The Fire Stone

Prologue

The echoing sound of footsteps rang down the stone halls of the dark fortress, the black rocks that made up the wall and obsidian floor glistening with an eerie shine. Asren Nellisk was running down the hall, but she wasn't just running, she was running for her life. She could hear the howls of the shadows as they closed in behind her, swarming after her through the halls like a frenzy of death. Asren made a quick turn around a corner, dodged into a tiny maintenance closet, and slammed the door shut, hearing the shadows fly past it, not noticing she had slipped inside.

Asren took a deep breath, slid down the side of the wall, and reached into her tattered satchel, pulling the tiny gem from it that held the fate of the world in its minuscule core. The Fire Stone. A tiny, perfectly spherical, orb of golden amber, flecks of red and yellow trapped inside its transparent body. In the center was a little symbol, like a particularly curvy S with multiple swirls and dots attached to its ends. Asren peered at its glow, remembering the events of the last few days.

She had been sent to rescue the stone from Zarack's clutches and had succeeded in slipping into his realm, through his defenses, and had even stolen it from the chamber it was held in, right off the shiny black pedestal it had rested on. She hadn't anticipated the traps though, for as soon as she had snagged it the floor had opened, releasing a horde of screaming shadows, beasts of death, bent only on murder.

She had made it this far, she wasn't going to give up now. Asren took a deep breath, placed the stone back in her bag, and drew her staff, ready to face any nightmare that lay outside the door. She swung the door wide open and stepped out, when she turned to begin her escape down the hallway, she stopped dead in her tracks. Only a few feet from her face stood Lord Zarack, his black, glossy robes cascading into a puddle of night around his bloodstained leather boots. His face was hooded and downturned, but Asren had no doubt it was that of a demon's.

"Lady Asren, I see you have graduated to the rank of sorcerer," his voice was smooth and deep, filling every crevice of the building without raising to more than a whisper. "I congratulate you," Zarack held out his hand. "But I am gong to need that back, it's fairly crucial to my plans."

Asren felt her demise imminent, if only she could stall for time... "Plans," Asren began, backing away as slowly as she could manage. "What plans?"

Zarack lowered his hand back to his side, and for a moment Asren saw the glint of a scarlet eye from underneath the shadows of his hood. "A valiant effort my young sorcerer, but words are my realm I'm afraid, and your life isn't something I care to prolong conversing over my secrets," Zarack's tone shifted to something of amusement. "I don't care if you give me that stone willingly or not. If you do resist," Zarack's form shrugged, "well, you won't be able to when you're dead."

As Zarack spoke the last words smoke began to billow from his form, a black, inky gas curling towards Asren. She barely had time to scream before the fog coiled around her form and reduced her to a mound of burnt flesh, the glowing stone rolling away from her corpse, unharmed, into Zarack's hand.

"Yes," Zarack mumbled to himself as he turned and began walking away from the body that was now being torn apart by the ravenous shadows, having finally found her. "I can't go losing you now, we have far too much to do," Zarack stroked the surface of the crystal, its power flowing through his fingertips. "Far too much to conquer."