An open altar marks the center of the arena. The creatures of the ancient kingdom, quickly take their seats as they anticipate the news to come. On the other end of the stadium, a man slowly makes his way up each grueling step, waiting to share his solemn announcement.
While he patiently waits at the top of the altar, the audience settles down, letting their eyes rest on the man with a lightning bolt grasped in his hand. Hair, white as snow, dancing in an ever-present morning breeze, while his eyes, bright blue like the ocean, capture everyone in the room.
"We have gathered here today, to discuss the impending problem that is our lack of messengers. As we all know, they are a key asset for our survival." Several nods and murmurs of agreement ripple through the crowd.
"This is not public knowledge, nor is it to be so. Those of you I have invited here, have been chosen personally, by me, as I believe you should be aware of the going-ons of the Kingdom." Again, whispers erupted among the crowd. This time, in appreciation. With a warning glare from the man, the room falls silent once again."Our messengers, always so loyal, are in danger. They have begun to fall, one by one."
A collective gasp rose from the crowd, with suppressed comments hanging in the air. No one dares to speak. "I will not go on a tangent, nor will I attempt to convince you to come to our aid immediately. I will only say this: each of you hold this Kingdom in a part of your heart. However big or small that part may be, it is there. In my opinion, it is our duty, as citizens, to keep this Realm from falling."
Not a sound is made. "Our messengers are being targeted. Targeted, by killer. An assassin. A slayer you might say. They are killing them, one by one until soon enough we will have no connection to the human world, until our world will cease to exist.
By now, the audience couldn't keep their thoughts of the matter to themselves, and eagerly began discussing what this could mean in harsh whispers. As the man looked down at his people, he waited until once again silence took over the stadium before he continued his message.
"But we can stop this. All we need are new messengers. Trained messengers. Ones who can fight, survive in the wilderness, protect themselves, master the arts of sorcery, and ones who are cunning and clever enough not to get caught in the first place. But how will we do this? How will we find those perfect people? This is where I put the fate into your hands. Under fifteen of your seats there is a medallion . Those of you who have received the medallion will search for and train the perfect candidate for the task of the messenger. In four weeks' time they will fight for their place as a messenger, and the ones that do not make it through will die. Choose wisely."
At this the entire stadium burst into excited chatter at the prospect of training the new messenger, as the ones who found the medallion under their seat quickly and quietly swept away to begin their task.
End of Pre-Face
Authors Note
- Well Guys, I'm starting a new story which has fantasy, romance, mystery and action elements within it. I'm no Susan Collins so pleaseeeeee tell me anything I can improve on, if my writings too choppy, if I need more descriptions or if it sucks ;) I CAN TAKE IT :D Anyways! Thanks for reading and I hope this interests you enough to keep reading! -
