Hero Mark :.Prologue.:

Prologue://
I've been having strange dreams lately. My dreams, being too difficult to describe, I used to think were just dreams. Becoming all too real, my dreams devour my sences now. I can feel, I can taste, it's almost as if it's real life. One of them sticks out, it's remembered the most. Sometimes, I see it again in my sleep. It goes something like this...

My legs carry me across a school-like campus, the air misty and grey. The walls around me, usually gray, are sprayed blue to match the tinted windows. I come across an elevator, in search of something. The business-like, brown inside of the rusty elevator craddles me. A shaking can be felt from the moving metals while my heart skips with fear and discomfort. My hands grap the railing as I secure myself. I shut my eyes and wait until the ding is sounded and the rustic doors open to a blue-tinted office. Two brown chairs sit infront of a brown desk, a glass door behind the leather chair, light blue veils sway in the non-existant breeze.

"Are you ready?" says a beefy, sharply dressed man.

"What's going on?" I say in return, calm curiousity masked my fear.

The sight of him folding his arms can be seen from the corner of my view. "Go outside."

A woman appears, her body perfect. Brown locks frame her flawless face, deep brown eyes flatter her pale skin. She looks at me, emotionless, before turning away and jumping out the glass door.

I follow her, my body falling with grace to a pool of blue water. Both of our body's levitate two feet away from the water, she curled into a ball while I keep my chest pushed outword.

"You must fall, but with balance." says the beefy man, now standing to the side on the deck of the pool. He waves his hand, and both of us women fall into the water. "Now, preform!"

"Can I be the lead?" I say, swimming up to him and stepping up on the deck next to him. Despite my swim, I was completely dry.

The beautiful woman that had fallen with me was now levitating by her own power above the pool. My pride falls upon seeing her grace.

"It takes grace, will, you must prove yourself a Hero." the beefy man says, not looking at me.

"So be it," I say, turning to him.

Finally, he looks at me, a stamp in his hand. With strength, he presses it down on my forehead, marking me with unidentifiable markings. "You will lead, young Hero."