Prologue

-Prologue-

--All eleven of them shuffled in their seats, each pair of eyes scanning the enormous oval table. This meeting was meant to be grave, and each of them could taste the fact in the damp air that filled the shack. For a long, awkward moment, they all stared in silence, most of them twiddling their thumbs and biting their lips. The room was eerie and quiet �" and dark. Then suddenly, as if summoned by the chime of a bell, light exploded from every candle, sheathing the room in brightness. 

--“Full attendance?” asked a man at the far end of the table as he tugged at the lace on the end of his silk sleeve. He was, by far, the calmest out of the group.

--“As always,” said Tyson Cretus. The man glared at a crack in the wall while growling inside his head. He didn't understand the point of these meetings: They never got anything accomplished anyway. 

--The lights flickered above the group, swaying in the air as if pushed by the breath of some unknown spirit. When the floorboards added their moans to the uneasy aura of the place, the elegantly-clothed man's stomach churned. A mysterious lull again captivated the party. 

--Then, one by one, each of the members struggled out of their chairs. A plethora of odd screeches and jangles echoed while they rose. Though no one would admit it, all eleven hearts quivered, skipping beats and gasping secretly for safety as they accepted the dimness of the room and the meeting. Not a member breathed; not a member thought. Around the table, all feeling vanished.

--After a few moments of numbness, the elaborate man broke the hush again. “Thought you may not have made it, Alette,” said Prince Richard, nodding his head at a faery at the other side of the table. His kind brown eyes slid over the familiar faces that surrounded him. “I suspected the Ethereals may have conjured up some trouble for you. But I see I was incorrect?”

--Alette nodded, shaking her thin faery wings, but she did not elaborate. As her lips trembled, a dark pit of emptiness welled in her stomach.

--“Good, good,” he said, smiling. “Today we plan to split into three groups, so that should keep the Enemy from singling us out as we strive to take down the Boundary.”

--No reply came from the rest of the group.

--Prince Richard then raised a stem, every pair of eyes following the motion attentively. Without another word, each of the eleven figures reached one of their arms across the table and placed a hand in the middle. Fingers stealthily intertwined with fingers while sweaty palms brushed against knuckles, joining hands. No one dared a breath; no one braved a word. Then, altogether in one swift motion, the cluster of hands rose into the air, each hand pulling its owner over the table so the chain could could reach the ceiling. The lights evaporated, and the room began to spin.

--Someone screamed. 

--Instantly the spinning halted, and every member of the group jolted upon hard, rocky ground. Something was not right.

--Richard's heart plummeted. 

--“Who yelled.” The statement was more of a declaration that a question.

For the third time during the meeting, everything became perfectly silent; for the first time, everything became indefinitely black. Moments passed by, each one leaving a footprint of macabre chill.

--“Who yelled!” The prince slammed his fist onto the table, wishing he could see the expressions on the others' faces.

--Ty sighed, loudly, “Richard, it doesn't matter. By now, they're already on their way to capture us.”

--In the darkness eleven faces blanched, and eleven hearts stopped. 

--“Scatter,” came the command.

--Immediately ten of them scrambled in the void for someplace to hide, but the Alette's hopeful spirit plunged.

--The faery's voice shook. “They're here.”

 

Author's Note

Trying to make the prose less purpley.
Also trying to think of a way to thin out the characters....

Reviews

[Joe]

This is a very interesting opening chapter. Very good description and interesting set up. Great job! Keep it up!