PROLOGUE

Olbin looked up from his desk as two heavy-set guards entered the room, harshly depositing a young woman, no more than twenty years of age, by the looks of her, on the cold, marble floor. Her long, tangled, red-gold hair fell down over red and swollen eyes. Dirt covered her from head to foot except for two lines on her cheeks where her tears had removed the grime, revealing skin so pale it seemed translucent. She was dressed in what might at one point have been a fine dress, made from homespun cotton dyed blue, although one would be hard pressed to discern it from its current appearance. One sleeve had torn off completely, leaving fraying and ragged edges, while the other was shredded, hanging in ribbons down her arm. She was covered in scrapes and scratches, along with several bruises on her arms that bore a strong resemblance to fingerprints.

Olbin smiled coldly as the woman looked up at him, the hatred in her eyes evident. It was such a pity she had to die; she would make a good lover once she was broken, and he did enjoy breaking the fiery ones. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the larger of the two guards. Frowning, Olbin indicated for the man to speak.

"My Lord, we are afraid that the Child of Prophecy cannot be found. It appears that it fell over Fehn's Ravine, where we found the she-Elf. We were unable to make a search in the dark, but it seems unlikely that the child could have survived the fall." The guard, not making eye contact, bowed low and stepped back to join his partner, awaiting his master's response.

"Hmm. What a pity. I was going to kill the child anyway, but now I won’t have the pleasure of doing it myself. Search the area tomorrow and report back to me of your findings." Olbin schooled his voice to remain neutral, when really he felt a cool triumph. Now that the Child of Prophecy was no longer alive, he was assured that his plans would not be thwarted. He would be able to conquer Gaia and rule its people with little interference, indeed with no interference that he could not handle. Suddenly, remembering that his guards were awaiting his orders, he looked down on the woman in front of him with narrowed eyes before speaking coldly, but dismissively, to the guards, "Do what you will with her, only kill her after."

"Yes, My Lord," The larger of the guards failed to mask the eagerness in his eyes as he and his partner bowed and left the room, dragging the limp woman behind. Olbin frowned, making a mental note never to entrust any confidential information to him, for if he could not make his face unreadable he would most certainly give away more information than he meant to. Olbin turned to exit the chamber through a secret door in the back, which led to his own bedchamber. Right before he opened the door he clapped his hands twice, bringing a frightened-looking servant boy into the chamber.

"Yes, M'Lord?"

"Send in one of my women," he said with a wave of his hand, sending the boy scurrying out of the room. Pleased with himself, Olbin exited into the chamber and began to undress.