Founding-Prologue

Prologue
The people of the town gathered excitedly around the story-talker, the traveler wore a long tattered cloak that covered thick travel wear. As words began to flow musically from his mouth they quieted and listened…

“The beginning of this particular story doesn't really have a foot hold in the long years of the past, but the best place to start is the Age of Powers. Or The Age of Bliss as it is well known. The Twelve High Powers dwelt in harmony and the world was at peace. Light and Dark worked together and the other Powers held what they believed to be tight bonds of friendship and trust.

But The Lord of the Dark, The Unnamed One, his thoughts were turned evil by his lust for power and discord crept and slithered amongst the Powers. The Lords Sun, Fire, Air, Trinell, and Sorne; later Pair and Fear respectively; grew apart and quarreled. The Ladies Moon, Stars, Water, Earth, and Jordai; later Death; fought and tore bonds like they were parchment.

Trinell, Sorne, and Jordai swore allegiance not to the good of living but to the Dark and they turned against the Light. The Eight banded together and accepted the declaration of war handed by a Dark Wielder of Death. The Human and Elvin Wielders turned and took up sides.”

“A Wielder was born with a flame of the Power in him/her and with teaching they can control it. During the Age of Powers when a child came of age their Powers reveled themselves. The Power the child came into was the Wielder they were but no one ever came into a Power of Light or Dark.” The children listening to the talker oohed and ahhhed and giggled and whispered amongst themselves.

         The story-talker shared a small smile with himself and continued with his story. His musical voice told the children of the Age of War and the glorious battles and then finally he came to the grand ending of the Last Battle where the Lords Dark, Pain, and Fear were captured and sealed in a prison past the Shale Farath, the impassable mountains, but not before the Lady Death laid her last blow. She killed all the Wielders and all the children who would become Wielders but the effort was too much; she died and with her went the immortality of men and elves. The Eight fled the world of Living Beings and barricaded themselves in the Light Palace across the sea and forbid entry to any living being leaving naught but a Prophecy.

“There is One Wielder who will come with the Morning,
One who will enter the palace and awaken the Eight to the World,
One born to change the world and in turn save it from a great defeat.
That One Wielder will bring danger and destruction
But this One Wielder will be a Wielder of Light.
Only Lady Light and her Wielder can truly destroy the Dark One.
There is One being who will come with the Evening,
There is One who will enter with the Wielder and follow faithfully
Together they will pull the Dark One from His throne”

         Here the story-talker ended his story and the children laughed and ran away playing the merry little games children play. The parents shook their heads and followed their children away. The talker is handed a coin and a thanks and he goes on his way.

Nobody sees the slender pointed ears on the fellow that mark his as an elf, nor the secretive smile he shares with his silent companion. None of these simple farmers asked about the ‘One Wielder who will come with the Morning.’ The villagers don’t think the Prophecy will ever be fulfilled, Light’s sake it’s been nearly three thousand years since the Last Battle. But the elvin talker knows better, he knows something will happen.

         “Soon my friend,” the talker says softly to his silent companion, his breath ghosting on the air “Soon.” The companion nods and pulls his hood further down to guard his face from the cold winds that swirl around the pair as they move further along the well trodden road.