Prologue
Pope Leo was happy, for the first time in his life. The once great city of Rome was burning to ashes around him, and he grinned with total satisfaction. The Romans were scared of him, but these primitive, germanic tribes, they could be manipulated so easily it would be like molding clay. The only problem would be getting them to convert to the church. He frowned, contemplating how to ensure his rise to power. The wind whipped in his hair as he mulled over how to convince the pagan troops to accept Christianity. He brightened immediately. This would be easier than he theought.
He turned and left the balcony as a huge rock flew out of no where, destroying the place where the Pope had just been standing. The pope grinned sadistically as he heard the balcony fall, most likely crushing a few defenders, which Leo preferred, as it would only accelerate his rise to power. He walked over to the balcony inside, which formed a ring over the great doors that he knew would soon yield to the Vandals.
He called his old friend, Seti, to his aid. The old man walked into the room quietly, but he had such a demanding presence that Leo knew he was coming before the doors even opened. The ancient mans voice was still powerful and deep, and he spoke from behind Leo. “Friend, why do you call me? I cannot defend the city by myself, and any attempt would end my life.”
Leo turned and looked the man in his eyes, which swirled into multiple colors, a kaleidoscope of knowledge and power. His dark skin and black hair displayed his egyptian heritage, as did the black scarab tattoo on his forehead. The pope, one of the most powerful men on earth, began to shake with fear. He wrenched his eyes away, instead looking at his friend's forehead.
“My old friend,” he said, his voice shaking, “I only request a small show of power. When the barbarians enter, you must strike down their leader as I give the signal. I do not have time to explain, but I will give you the spell, only if you promise to destroy it.”
“And what spell might this be?” asked the old man. “The spell of life, the spell of death, or,” his eyes glowed hungrily, “the spell of prolonging?”
Leo’s eyes opened wide with fear. “Never.”
“Then you will fall with the empire you so adored!” Seti turned on his heel and began to walk briskly toward the doors to his private study.
“Wait,” cried the Pope, turning faster than one would think possible. “Ill give it to you, but you must swear service to me. For life.”
The other man turned around slowly, smiling grimly. “It shall be done.” And with that, the doors of the cathedral shuddered once, and burst open.
