Prologue

My bare feet pounded on the forest floor.  Hot tears burned their way down my cheek like acid.  Branches from the pines slapped my face leaving red streaks on my cheeks and forehead.  My feet hurt. Thorns, pine needles, and rocks jabbed into my soles as I sprinted through the dark trees. I was tired and wanted to stop and rest but that wasn’t an option at the moment. Fear pushed me onward.

Twigs snapped behind me. I looked back at the two heavily built men that chased after me. Their pace was not hindered by their bulky size. Their black boots thudded on the ground in a steady rhythm.  They wore matching loose black slacks and black tunics. A gold emblem on their tunics glinted in the moonlight. These men were chasing me. Why?

Night had settled and the light of the full moon filtered through the trees in tiny spotlights. It was just enough light to find my way in and out of the pines. Smells of pine, cedar, wet dirt, and decaying wood filled the air.  No animals scattered away. It was as though they had disappeared into the night leaving me all alone with no one to help.

Suddenly it was quiet. It was as though cotton swabs plugged my ears. But nothing was in my ears. There was just no sound. Nothing. Complete silence. It was all wrong. There wasn’t even a ringing or drumming in my ears. Nothing. What was going on?

I tripped on something. I dropped to the ground, having the brains to put my hands out in front of my face for protection. Pain shot up her arms and to her shoulders. Needles dug into my hand; a rock thrust itself into my cheek. I opened my mouth to cry out in pain but nothing escaped my lips. I couldn’t scream. More tears streamed down my face as I realized that I was done for.

The two men came up behind me. One kicked me in my side. My ribs screamed in pain. They rolled me over so I was on my back facing them. The rock I fell on must have cut my cheek because I could feel the hot sticky blood trickling down my cheek mixing with the dirt and tears. The one on the left’s face twisted into a horrible smirk as he placed his foot roughly on my throat. His partner, the one on the right, pulled a knife from the waistband of his slacks.

My body refused to answer to the commands my mind was shrieking. With the boot on my throat I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t scream. My body wouldn’t fight back. The only thing I could do was watch in horror as the knife came closer and closer to my chest.

I couldn’t think. My brain had frozen. All the memories had disappeared like dew on a warm morning. All the thoughts froze. I just watched the gleaming knife in horror. Everything was blurry. The men, the forest, everything, was out of focus. The only thing that stayed clear was the approaching knife.

He cut into my skin but not with the quick jab that I had expected. Instead he was gentle and slid the knife along my skin. I just watched. It seemed he was drawing something but I wasn’t sure. Then, he raised the knife above his head. It remained there, suspended. Suddenly, he drove it down quickly.



I screamed. The sound reverberated on the walls of my bedroom back into my ears. It was a dream. I wasn’t in a forest. No one was chasing after me. And most of all, I was breathing and alive! Thank god it was only a dream.

I slipped out of my cotton sheets. Coming out of my room, I turned left. I opened the door on my left and entered the bathroom and flicked on the lights. I turned on the sink, placing my hands underneath the warm water and splashed it on my face trying to wash away the nightmare.  Grabbing the hand towel, I dried my face. As I brought the towel down from my eyes I glanced at myself in the mirror. I gasped. On my left cheek a fresh cut had formed. I bent down and rummaged underneath my sink for some band-aids. I finally found some small ones and put one on my cheek.

As I put the band-aid on something underneath my hair, right below my collarbone caught my attention. I brushed away the tangles to reveal what it was. There, below my collarbone beside my right shoulder, was raw, open skin. The cut formed two circles, one within the other. Six wavy lines extended from the inner circle and out through the outer circle. I screamed.







Das’s knife sunk deep into the damp earth “What did you do that for? It would have been a lot easier just to kill her right there!” Das’s face was red with rage. Jokar had always thought he was to quick tempered. But he had proven to be useful before so he kept him close.

“Our orders were to mark her, scare her and leave,” Jokar stated as he walked east, “I let you strike because I thought it was a good ending to her ‘nightmare’”

Das followed silently. He knew better then to challenge Jokar.  They were both the same build and strength and Das was a Moveable but Jokar was a minder, one of the most powerful tribes of the Hydga Minors, and he could take control of Das’s mind and control everything he did. Even if Das moved to the other side of Main, Jokar could search out his mind and take hold of it. There was almost no hiding from a Minder unless you were a Hydga Major or protected by one and only a handful of those existed in the Fantasy Realm.  Das was better off staying quiet.

“Come,” Jokar suddenly said, “he is waiting.” They walked out of the trees into the full moon’s pale light. A dark sea lay before them. White crested waves crashed against the jagged rocks sending sheets of iridescent spray into the air. A strong western wind blew across the sea into the woods causing the golden emblem of two unconnected half-circles within one circle on the two men’s tunics to glint in the moonlight.

A hooded form stood silently next to a black, aging rowboat. Jokar instantly straightened up and his pace quickened. Das followed suit but still remained relaxed.  The men stood and bowed deeply to the hooded figure.

The hooded man twisted his face into the best sneer he could perform. The left side of his face was burned.  Some of his eyelid had melted onto the lower lid causing his eye to be half closed at all times and the left side of his mouth had been melted together as well. A horrible sparkle came to his eye. He already knew what the bowing men were going to tell him. He had been with them the whole time and they hadn’t noticed at all. He wanted to hear the news; wanted the words to sing into his ears like the melodic Demon Horn played at the festivals of the dead.

Finally, the wait was over, the larger of the two spoke loud and clear, “it is done, great Sovsad.”  The hooded man, Sovsad, released a deep, malicious laugh that reverberated off the trees and vanished into the night air.