Prologue

just the beginning...

Prologue

Snap! The lightening in the midnight sky pulsated, illuminating the outline of a figure running across a field toward a small cottage. Beneath the man’s feet, mud squished and sloshed and glued to the soles of his weathered sandals. The book cradled in his arms swung violently back and forth; causing his balance to sway like a pendulum. Upon reaching the cottage, the man stumbled across the uneven floor and reached for a lantern hanging from a single clip in the ceiling. Fumbling for matches in a compartment at the base of the lantern with his right hand and maintaining a firm grip on the book in his left, the man let out a small grunt and at last struck a match. He sighed at the comfort the light from the lamp had brought him as he had lit the wick of the lantern. Thunder crashed. The man jumped. Uncovering the book from beneath his jacket, the man walked across the musty cottage and set it down on the floor next to his personal bookshelf. He knelt beside the shelf and removed a newly bound book. As he opened the book, the man smiled beside himself. After so many years - so much work and strife �" he had finally found the one thing that would bring eternal favor on his family and descendants. They would be forgiven and the curse would be broken. A scratching at the door startled the man and he quickly stood to defend himself. He approached the door cautiously and warily opened it half an inch. A small rodent ran past his feet into his home and he silently thanked his god for his luck.

Crossing the room once more, the man bent down next to the newer book. Between the covers, a hole had been carved and he carefully placed the first book in the second’s casing. Next to the bookshelf stood a small table and from it, the man grabbed a piece of string. He wrapped the string multiple times around the binding of the book and stood once more.

Across the small room, a table surrounded by chairs sat next to the miniscule kitchen. The man counted the chairs one by one. After counting all seven, the man frowned. A single tear ran down his wrinkled cheek. The one thing he would miss the most was his family. The years spent together around the table were bitter sweet and yet, he could not tear his gaze from the chairs; the simple reminders of what he would be leaving behind. He stepped towards the chairs but the thunder suddenly crashing outside broke his daze. He quickly dimmed the light from the lantern and was overwhelmed by the sudden darkness. Stepping out onto the wet grass once again, the man silently prayed for strength.

Surrounding all but the north end of his cottage was forest. Trees stood like giants and they brought little comfort to the weary man. To the left of the cottage, a small light glowed through the trees and the man began stepping in its direction. He followed the distant light through the forest, stumbling over roots and fallen limbs along the way.

After what seemed miles to the crestfallen man, the light dimmed and he stood before a small cottage, similar to his own. He rapped twice on the wooden door and was startled when a hand reached out and pulled him by his shirt into the small home.

Before him, stood a ragged old woman who, though not so much older than himself, looked like her 100^th birthday had long past. “You are late!” she exclaimed and pointed a brown crooked finger in his direction.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. “The storm slowed me down and I couldn’t run as fast.”

“Do not use excuses with me, son. You will be on time or you will not be at all!” Her dark eyes flashed and a tingle raced through him. He took a step back.

“Please. What do I have to do? You said you will help me bind my book, but I do not understand how you will do it. But people say you are a… a w-w-witch.” He looked down nervously at his hands and the book resting under his arm. The old woman stepped toward him and flicked him on the nose. He flinched back and instantly reached to his face.

“Did that hurt?” the old woman asked with menace in her voice.

“Yes!” the old man yelled.

“Then I must not be a witch; for if I was, your back would be hurting, not your nose.” He looked at her through squinted eyes and was confused. She turned from him and pulled a chair from beneath a table and sat down.

“That doesn’t make any �"OUCH!” The man reached around with his free arm and rubbed his back. An electric shock had shot directly down his spinal cord and had become suddenly sore. He looked up at the woman, startled. “You are… you’re a witch!” The woman chuckled. The man looked terrified but continued to stand his ground. The importance of his book weighed down on him heavily.

“You are different… much different. Most would scream and run; leave without a glance back. And yet, you stay. Why?” He gaped at her, still disbelieving he had found a true witch; the last puzzle piece to his life long journey. She looked at him through wide eyes and he saw from five feet away her pupils grow. “Come here,” she said. “Let me see this book for which you have fought sleep over for many years.” He closed the distance between them and handed her the book. She carefully picked the book from his hands and set in down on the table. Opening the book, she smiled at discovering his means of protection. “You have hidden the true book inside the cover of another?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered nervously. “I do not want anyone to know where I have hidden the real book. It must be kept secret.”

“I understand,” she said. “And why is this book so important to you?” She looked up expectantly and the man noticed how truly ugly the witch was. Moles covered her neck and forehead and from them, hair cluttered her face. On her eyelids, warts grew to the size of a thumbprint and he wondered how she could even open her eyes. He grimaced and her gaze turned to one of rage. “Forget it! I will do your work and like always, you will pay me and leave!” She turned back to the book.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said; his apology weak but genuine. She dismissed him with the wave of her hand.

“What shall I do for your book?”

“Could you please bind it to the other book?” he said. “I’d like the first book only to be opened by someone in my family; someone specific.”

“Who would you like me to allow passage to your book?” the witch asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Someone with strength and courage; the ability to realize and comprehend the task that has descended upon them.”

“I can do this,” said the woman. “But I must choose who it is to be. I will read your life-line and select the one who is to fulfill the assignment you have given them.” She reached for his hands. She bent close to his skin and he quickly looked away. Only ten seconds later, she was once again reaching for the books. She rested her arms directly above them and spoke words too soft for him to comprehend. “It is done. Is that all you have for me?” Her sudden change in posture shocked him and he swiftly jumped away. She sat straight in her chair and smiled at him.

“No,” he said. Her smile grew. He instantly knew that she already knew what he would say next, but he continued anyways. “I would like for you to sacrifice me �" my energy �" and convert it to the soul you have chosen to accomplish my task.” She slumped back into her chair.

“Of course. But you do realize that you will be forever lost until the job is done. Your spirit will wander the earth until your descendant has completed your task. Can you still willingly offer yourself for this cause?” He frowned. Already tonight he had thought of those exact words. Could he leave his family �" the ones he loved �" behind?

“Yes. It must be done.” The witch smiled once more.

“Then it shall.”

Standing from her chair, the woman rose to her full height. Though she stood no less than two feet shorter than the man, her power and energy gave her the extra distance and more to give the man a feeling that he was incompetent next to her. A small wind began to stir through the room, though there were no windows and the only door was firmly shut.

“Your physical body shall be sacrificed for your chosen purpose. Your soul shall wander the earth until your descendant, whom I chose, has successfully completed the task you have set. Your body’s energy shall be passed from generation to generation until coming in contact with the chosen baby. There the child will consume your energy and it shall be reserved until the moment the descendant needs your help the most. Will you sign upon this contract?” The witch stuck out her arm and thrust her hand at the man. “Shake my hand and it shall be sealed.”

“Wait! No! Please, I have just a few things to say,” he said.

“No. I will not wait. Shake my hand or leave. Make your decision.”

“Please! I will say it fast!” he exclaimed, near tears.

“What?” she snapped. “Just hurry before your chance is lost.”

“I would like to ask that you give the book to someone in my family; someone who will pass the book down through generations so it will reach the baby when the time comes.”

“Fine; I will. Now shake my hand!” she reached for his hand but he pulled back. “Now what?” she exclaimed. “You must hurry before time runs out. I cannot maintain this power forever.” Around them, the wind started to increase. Paper flew and candles were overturned. The lamp above started to flicker.

“Will you… I need to ask if you will pass on your powers through the generations to my descendant. The task needed to be done from the special book speaks of… the need of power. The baby will need more strength and power than just mine alone. She will need magic. Please!”

“NO!” the witch screamed. “Never! How dare you ask!” The wind began to howl and the man and witch strained their ears to hear the other.

“Please! I will give you anything!” the man yelled over the noise.

“Anything!?”

“Yes, please! Anything!”

“Fine! Here it is… I will deliver your precious book to your oldest son. There it will be passed down through your family line. I will also give my powers to your descendant, of whom I have already chosen. From now until the baby is born, I will rest. I will lie and sleep until the time comes for me to awaken. But, for repayment… every child born to your last name from here until your chosen baby is born shall be male. Each year they are alive they will come to me one by one and they will feed me one drop of blood to my sleeping body. When at last, the chosen baby has fulfilled the task assigned I will come for the child and take its body for my own; restoring my powers.” The witch’s eyes gleamed bright yellow and she reached for the man’s hand.

“No! No, please!  Stop! I do not want this!” He tried to run from the witch’s outstretched hand but the wind behind him pushed him toward her. “Please!”

“No worries, darling. Your family curse will finally be lifted. I will be united with a new body; I will be beautiful once more. The offer seems only fair, right? Gain a little, lose a little.” With one last jump towards the man, the witch grabbed his hand and a bright light shot from between their fingers.

A deafening roar sounded from their grip and the witch didn’t know if the man was screaming or the magic was taking its course. From the table, the book rose and shot toward the light. As it reached the outskirts of the light’s glow, it disappeared; soon to be mysteriously discovered on the man’s oldest son’s bookshelf.

The witch smiled. All would end well. The pitiful human would get what he desired, no matter how stupid. But above all, she would gain a new body. After all the years she had spent rotting in her cottage hidden in the woods, she would have a new body to live in! She would never hide again. She laughed at the thought, overcome with excitement. She could sleep for the few hundred years it would take for this “chosen” baby to be born. She didn’t mind at all. When the mother of this baby had her child, expecting a boy just as every child in their family had been, and the newly-born was a girl… oh, how the thought thrilled the witch. That would surprise every man in the family but it would be perfect. The witch smiled again. She knew the magic descended to the girl would shock her, but it would keep her safe; most importantly, it would keep her body safe. And in the end, the witch only wanted one thing; a new body.

Author's Note

help me with anything. i could use advice in grammar, technique, structure.. anything! i'm all ears. (:

Reviews

[Call me Matt]

I can't say I noticed anything bad. It definitely flowed. Since it's a prologue I'm left in the dark on many things, but that's what a prologue suppose to do. In all seriousness, when I opened up the page, and after I scrolled down and saw the length, I thought, "I don't know if I'll read all of it." But once I started, next thing I know, I was almost done with it. It kept my attention. I'm curious what it all means. I really liked the imagery at the beginning when he was running to his small cottage and went in. If I really tried to pull something critical from it would be for the upcoming chapters. To me the prologue alludes me to think that the story would be novel length with a telling of several characters. Well that's my two cents :)