Illusion: Destiny Awaits (In Editing)

Prologue

It is late in the summer. The sun is setting from golden orange to the bitter navy blue known as night. Two girls, around the age of 7, sit on the sand of a beach, quietly chatting to one another. In front of them lies the deep sea green glow of the ocean, sloshing calmly towards them.

Past the sunset stands a man, hidden behind the sunlight reflecting off the green thriving leaves of an ash tree. The man is tall, dressed in a dark robe, with a scepter in hand; an owl is perched on his shoulder. He speaks.

"The time has come. The time has come for us to bring in someone. Someone who can save us from what we have become. We need someone. Someone to help us in our time of desperation. Our destiny is not completed yet. But there is no time left to turn back now. Not after what we have done." The man pauses, then speaks again. "Someone will hold our destiny in their hands. We must trust them to help us. But most of all," he whispers, "we must trust them to stop what we have created."

The sky is still, everything is as if time has stopped itself. Beneath the man, are many rocks. The man reaches down, scooping up two stones and placing them in his palm. He closes his fist. A light shines from his closed fist like no other human has seen before; it is only visible to those like the man.

As quickly as the light came, it flickers out. The man unfurls his fingers. And in his palm, are two gems, nothing like the rocks before from which they originated. In the distance, the night quickly falls. The sky has now changed to the soft blue that will fade into darkness. The man looks up, seeing the faint outline of the moon before him.

"The time is now," he says. The owl cocks its head down, as if in agreement.

The world stands still once more, for one last fleeting moment. With one breath of word, the man calls to the wind. It comes rushing, eager, ferocious. It swirls around, waiting for its command.

With a flick of the wrist, the man throws the stones into the air—now stones of tourmaline—as if they are the weight of feathers. As if they are nothing. As if they are worthless.

But they hold the fate of many.

As the stars start to come out in the dim, fading light of the sun, the gems fly out, carried by the wind itself. Finding something to hold onto. Finding someone to carry out the fate of the world.

They fly; careless sparkles in the night.

The two little girls from the beach are now gone, each tucked into the cool of their houses and comfort of blankets, unaware of what the future may hold.

The gems still fly. Soon, morning arises.

And somewhere, someone has received the gems. They hold the destiny of many.

And what happens next? Well, the rest...

It is a mystery.