Prologue #1The battle had been lost. She knew it before she even opened her eyes. She could feel pain throughout her body and felt the familiar sensation of cold air on open skin. She tried to lift her arm but it was stuck under something. With what strength she had left, she pulled. His arm freed itself. Her eyes opened and she immediately had to stop herself from screaming. In front of her was the corpse of her lover. Parts of his hair had been torn from his scalp along with the flesh it was attached to. Parts of his skin had been torn away, revealing bone and muscle. She reached up and gently stroked what was left of his cheek. He was cold. She could feel tears streaming down her face. His only love, his only love, was dead. She forced herself to turn away from him and stood up. She could now see the extent of his injuries. She had a long gash running from her chest to her hip. She watched the blood flow. The bright, shimmering green, once described as beautiful, looked sickly as it came out of her. As her senses returned, she realized she couldn't feel her legs. She squinted to see in the darkness. His legs had been twisted and broken and were placed at an awkward angle. It made her sick to look at them. She focused on the rest of the room. The ancient great halls were soaked in blood, running down the walls and forming large pools on the floor. The room, once bright, was bathed in shadows and darkness. And then there were the bodies. It was hard to see in the dark, but they were there. The corpses of his allies littered the ground. They were mutilated, mangled, and barely recognizable, but she could have named each one. They had been his advice, his friends. She was desperately trying to move but she couldn't. He… in the middle of a paper…… he hid it well. “You too must die,” he said slowly. Suddenly she was terrified again. She felt something holding her back as the black figure approached. She felt the cold metal of the glove on her skin. Then the black figure moved its hand and she felt the icy spikes pierce her neck. She barely had time to scream when the figure tore out her throat. The Prophet looked at her, motionless. The girl's aura was fading, as was common for her people. His pupils lost their emerald green color and turned milky white. All signs of life have faded. She let out a singular breath that didn't require air. She exhaled her vital essence. Bright green vapor left her lips, twisting, curling, dancing, and then it was gone. He closed his eyelids then turned to leave. The stench of corpses and the dull creak of the Black Wraith accompanied him to the door...