The Conrell Clan

Prologue

The Conrell  Clan

Book One

    Otto Conrell sat down on the side of his bed, after what had already been a long day, and gazed into the mirror on his dresser. What he saw was his reflection. The incredibly familiar blonde hair, medium build, average weight, and a little bit above average height. His face was in the minor tan it was usually in at this time of year. He did not like that colour: it made him seem very pale. But in the summer, he would get darker and darker, making him look like himself again.

      But then, a moment later, another reflection replaced his own. It was a woman, with long, black hair, and startling eyes. One eye was green, the opposite was brown. Not a fraction of a second later, it disappeared, and he saw his own face once again.

    What on Earth?  He thought. I'm probably hallucinating. Whatever. I'm tired. He didn't move a muscle after he lay on his bed, and welcomed himself into the dark arms of sleep.

He had a dream that night. An asteroid was spinning in space, around a planet, visible in the distance. Not Earth. Definitely not Earth. Venus, maybe. Or Mars. That didn't matter. He was focusing on the asteroid itself. It was inhabited, he thought. The ground was not that of a usual asteroid. It looked softer. Smoother. And not natural. That was it. But he got his answer when his dream zoomed in fast, and he saw his vision go through the apparent 'ground,' and it revealed that it was in fact a giant dome, and under it the pale inhabitants wandered in a beautiful city, towered by a huge palace, at the north end of the wall, with a round gem at the spire of the manor, which was also the highest point in the city.

    "We have only a small task force moving to the planet. Sire, you will be severely hurt, if not worse if you go on with this!" A voice spoke, as the interior of the palace came into view.

     The king, perched on his shining gold throne, spoke in a deep, loud and clear voice that matched his gruff appearance. "I'll do what I want. If these people see that the eldest relative of their creator has left, they will follow him. It's not as if they expect us."

      A demonic smile covered his face, and the servant who sat next to him replied. "They may not expect it, but that does not mean they will not defend themselves. You mustn't go!" The king rose, his golden staff in hand, and he slapped his advisor in the face with it.

    "I rule Raedoliyu. You don't tell me what to do, Siklah!" The man; Siklah, stayed on the ground until he saw that his abusive ruler had left, and his two only guards with him, and he got up. Running as fast as he could, and as silent as he could. When he reached the door leading to the back wall at the back of the palace, Siklah jumped down onto the ground. He was now outside the city. He didn't stop to find his way, or grab a map; he ran. He didn't care how many people followed him. In fact, he wanted people to follow him. Or so it seemed.