Winds of change

Prolouge

Hullo, this is my first fiction story, so please be genter. I hope you enjoy it.

Winds of change - A prologue

In the darkness of the night he smiled, the wind whipping around his tall frame as his eyes lit with glee. He knew it, his apprentice was coming

…

Sitting on her throne Alaison Evans looked down upon her hunter

“Go find the child this instant!”

…

She has come the winds sang

The saviour has come

…

Waking up to the sound of a screaming matron, and crying children our protagonist, Lucyelle Alexanda Emrys ran, she grabbed her rucksack and ran. She had known this was going to happen, she had felt it in the wind. Of course she had never believed in those things anyways. ‘Gods!’ she gasped the wall in front of her buckled and shattered, shards of dark wood littering the concrete floor around her shaking form.

Before her a man stood, his amber eyes piercing her taking in her short frame, dull hair and plain eyes with interest

“This is the saviour, this is the cretin of the light?” He spoke with an increlous lit before letting out a short, sharp bark of laughter “This-“

He was cut off as a body dived through the wall knocking into the unknown man and sending them both tumbling to the ground. The two grappled on the floor as a suspicious wind flurried through the corridor as sparks of lighting charged the air. The pair came to an abrupt stop at the smell of smoke, a shrill alarm sounded through the decrepit building. They broke apart and both looked over to where Lucyelle had collapsed against the wall, the magiks charging the air shocking and soothing her prone body.

The first man, her original assailant glared at her apparent saviour as he jumped back through the hole he, himself had created landing with a soft thud on the grass stories below

“This is not the end.”

And with that he was gone into the thick oppression of the night. Lucyelle’s eyes glassed over as she fell into shock, the charged magik in the air warring with her undeveloped magiks.

…

When she next woke Lucyelle found herself staring at the charred remains of the only place she had ever called home, St. Roses’ orphanage for young girls. That was the last time she ever cried.

…

“Come child,” The gruff voice of her saviour pulled Lucyelle out of her paralysed reality as his hand hovered into view. She grasped it in a firm grip and he pulled her up off the cold grass.

“Who are you?” she questioned

“You can call me Master, or Sir if you must. You’re my new apprentice after all”

…

Hey Luvies,

I hope u like this fic so far, it’s just the prologue of (hopefully) much to come. I am open to and welcome constructive criticism. Flames will be met with annoyance, and I will return the fire.Anyways please give me your feedback.

Thanks for reading,

Xanda