Prologue: Long Ago

This is a prologue which takes place approximately 480 years before present times, and is narrated by a secondary character.

    This is the day I will die.  I know this as surely as I know that the sun will rise at dawn tomorrow, as it has for all the millennia past, and as it will unto the end of time.  I have Seen it, though until now I did not know when this day would come.  I sigh.  There is no way to put it off any longer; I must record the truth as I have come to know it.  Gathering my strength, I make my way to my desk and sit.  Absently, I tug on my long, grizzled beard and gaze down at the blank parchment before me.  I take a deep breath, dip my quill into my inkwell, and begin to write.

    My name is Saran.  I was born nearly a century ago, Marked with Sight into the future.  My time has come; I will be dead before nightfall.  However, before I die, I must commit the story of my failure to this page, and ensure that my knowledge, my dearest hope, will not die with me.
    It began as many stories do, that is, on a clear summer day.  That morning, I Saw four men plotting to betray and kill the Lumina.  By midday, I was riding hard toward Lightower Castle, intent on saving its mistress.  I was young, twenty-three to be precise, and my head was full of all manner of grand fantasies.  With the things I could See, I was going to change the world, make it better.  I was a fool.  My confidence, nay, my arrogance, contributed to the death of the Lumina.  
    My knowledge should have saved her, but I was naive.  I hadn’t expected them to act so soon; they had seemed so hesitant.  Had I only been more cautious and opened my Sight but once more, I would have Seen their plan take shape.  I would have Seen the act, where before I had only seen intent.  Carina died because I was careless, never having dreamt before that I could be so fallible.  Even now, the images of what transpired that night are burned into my mind.
    I arrived at Lightower Castle in late afternoon and was granted a private audience with the Lumina.  The details of our conversation, as well as the rest of the day, are irrelevant to the purpose of this record.  Suffice it to say that everything seemed to be going quite well, until after dusk.  Carina had gone to her chambers to prepare herself for her upcoming journey and I was wandering the corridors of the castle.  I had just stepped out onto a balcony and was enjoying the calm night.  
    Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a piercing shriek.  I knew then that I had failed the Lumina.  Turning toward the sound, I saw Carina’s limp form plummeting down, down, down from a neighboring balcony.  Alistair, a man who had sworn to protect and advise the Lumina, watched as she fell without a sound, triumph clear on his face.  Minerva, Carina’s handmaiden, looked on in horror.  It was her scream I had heard.
    A blinding flash turned night into day as the Lumina’s spirit departed and her body disappeared into the murky depths of the marsh.  Carina was dead and I was to blame.  I turned away in silence and left the castle, for there was nought else I could do.  Because of me, the Lumina would not complete her task.  The beacon of hope shone no more.  I climbed onto my stallion and galloped off into the darkness, not caring where I was headed, only striving to outrun my regret.  It occurred to me then that I might have one day loved her.
    Years passed as I wandered the wilderness alone, hunting, gathering food, doing no more than merely surviving.    My grief and remorse threatened to swallow me whole and I had not opened my Sight since that fateful night.  Nothing I could See would change what had happened.  I cared nothing for the future; I remained blinded by the past.  Yet one morning, while I was bathing in a river, my Sight rose up within me and would not be suppressed.  What I Saw gave me hope, hope that perhaps one day, another Lumina may rise and finish what Carina had begun.  Furthermore, it is she who will free the world from the tyranny of the Solanti.  A time of freedom and prosperity will come again.  To keep her safe, I will reveal no more.
    
    With a sigh, I lay my quill on the desk and lean heavily against the back of my chair.  A great burden has been lifted from my soul.  My heartbeat slows and I am overwhelmed by a peculiar floating sensation.  Suddenly, a soft, white light engulfs me.  It reminds me of Carina and I am calm, ready for whatever comes next.  

Author's Note

Does the first paragraph adequately capture your attention?