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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/641156-Prologue
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by Ledan Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Book · Fantasy · #1538329
My Personal Project about a magical girl who adventures in a Renaissance fantasy world
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#641156 added March 19, 2009 at 2:46am
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Prologue
A meteor raced across the night sky, its bright arc across the sky concealed by the multitude of stars. Distant nebulas could clearly be seen, and the night sky wasn't pitch black, it was a ray of colours. The brightness of the moon covered some of the stars, and its brilliance lighted up the desert sands. The sand was no longer its usual hue of light brown, but seemed to glitter just like the stars in the sky. It was unbroken and never ending, only changing to the shape of the dunes. Unbroken that is, except for the one trail that broke across the uniform desert floor.

A single man ran across the glistening sands. His name is unimportant, for all he will ever be remembered as is `the traitor, the fool'. He was by far no evil man, but he betrayed those he had loved because of his beliefs. His beliefs that the system he had followed and bled for was wrong. His family would claim that he had been influenced, but the betrayed would only say `so have we, yet we never did what he did'. For this man had broken the most sacred rule of his people: trust.

There was an old saying amongst his previous clan “A man’s prowess with the blade can be doubted, but never whom it will strike”, their trust for one another went to such a deep level that they never had protection from themselves. It was hard to enter their clan, but once you had proven yourself, you were never doubted again. Your skill or your prowess could be doubted, but never your word to one another. And yet he had done so. He had betrayed them by telling their enemy where they were, and he had stolen The Child.

The child he now cradled in his arms. An infant baby, whom he had stolen from her people. Not to kidnap, nor to kill, not even to blackmail those he had once called brethren. But because this new order had commanded him to do it. It was a strange request, but he was used to odd reasoning, and once they had explained their reasoning to him, he had agreed whole heartedly with the plan.

His new clan had meet him once before upon the battlefield and had left a huge impression. He had slayed many of their soldiers, but they had later told him not to worry about it, since all those he had slayed showed how much power he had. Later on he had chosen to listen to a dying `officer'. It, being neither a he nor a she, had told him that all he knew of them was wrong, and that the roles were in fact reversed. He couldn't remember much past that point, but he remembered feeling shocked and paralyzed with fear. Fear that he had done the wrong thing. Fear that he had in fact helped those he had been against from the beginning.
So he had gone to his enemies and told them he wanted to help them out, for all his crimes against them. They graciously accepted his offer, and over the next few days he had told them all the secrets that he knew, everything he had ever done for his clan, and then he had obeyed their every command. He thought that it was the least he could do after having caused them so much trouble.

And now here he was, running across the Mal'kai desert. He was still amazed as to how far he had gotten in just two days. It must have been his new resolve giving him strength. Then again, he had always been one of the fastest runners in the clan. But he had been running for days, and he was now exhausted. And soon, very soon, his pursuers would catch up to him. Oh, he hadn't sensed them at all, but their hatred for him and their determinance would drive them forward like starved wolves to a pulp rabbit. He had to complete his mission before they arrived. Only a little bit left, he thought.

That was when he heard the howl of despair. An ear splitting screech that resonated across the barren wasteland. Shit. He hadn't expected them to get this close yet. From the sound of the screech, the Hunter could be anywhere from a couple of kilometres to half a one's distance away. He now knew that he could never make it in time. He decided to go for plan B. To make sure that even if he couldn't get the child, they wouldn't. Seeing sandstorms wherever he looked, he headed towards one. One would provide a hiding place, and another would provide cover.

He leapt into the air to avoid leaving a trail to the infant. After all, he wouldn't want them to find the child after his death. Still flying through the air, the traitor finally landed far away from his original trail. He carefully let the child down on the nearest dune of sand. He hated having to kill it like this, but he didn't have the time to do it himself, and he hoped that someone from his new clan would chance to come by here. And for all he knew, if the child did survive, maybe it would have the same effect as having it raised by his new clan.

Turning, he took a few steps to leap back to his original trail. After a short period in the air, he landed again. To make sure that the Hunter didn't pick up his scent anywhere else, he took out his knife and lightly sliced his palm. Letting the blood form as slight puddle, he continued on his path, dripping blood onto the trail. The Hunter screamed again, closer this time, fuelled by the traitor's blood in the air.

The traitor was scared. He had every reason to be. No traitor ever died when they betrayed the clan. He hadn't been around when anybody had betrayed them, but he had heard the tales from the clan. When the Hunter or Hunters caught up with the traitor, they never killed them. Instead, the broke the body of the traitor, granted them almost immortal healing capabilities. The clan never gave themselves this healing power, because it caused insufferable amounts of pain to the person healing. But that wasn't the end of it; they also cursed them so that their wounds would take almost forever to heal. And then, as if that wasn't enough, they opened a portal and thrust the traitor into the world of their nightmares.

Worlds that only their creators could access. For although the family trusted each other, and it was very rare to have traitors, they had the most gruesome and effective punishment for the traitor. Their very own personal hell.

The traitor knew that the Hunter would soon be upon him, but that his suffering would never be over.
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