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prelude

the young man's eyes darted wildly around the ancient hall. Not a soul stirred.

His breathing was shallow with fear and adrenalin. carefully he padded across the solid wood floor out of his hiding place in the doorway. Where were they? He did not know. But as long as he wasn't caught he did not care.

Candles burnt all around him, giving off an unpleasant dull glow.
So it was true, all he had suspected, all that he was told was a lie was actually true, the stories he had grown up on had their worth. He paused to make sure none of the buildings inhabitants could hear him. Especially her, the one who seemed to be in charge. He had seen that woman from afar during his entry and did not want to see her up close. All around him lay piles of gold and glistening jewels, left strewn across the floor as if they were rubbish. They twinkled uncontrollably, shining brighter than anything he had seen before, certainly brighter than any human gold he mused as he walked.

People had told him to curb his curiosity, saying no good ever came from asking to many questions, but he had to put his mind at rest.
Across the walls thick black drapes hung lifeless dead and bleak and strange patterns were wrought across the floorboards. What was this place? Some sort of meeting room? Banqueting hall?
He did not know

Suddenly His eyes reached a demonic chair that sat at the end of the room, it rose from the depths of the floor oppressively , the high back curving elegantly upwards until the highest points where there sat two large skulls. Were they real? He didn't want to stay here long enough to find out, Panic flooded the young man's heart.

Still he walked down the hall as if drawn to the seat, as if he had no control over his legs. his eyes were locked onto it. Time seemed to stand still as he walked and soon, he reached the foot of the seat. he rubbed his hand gently across the deep purple fabric, instantly the shivers invaded his spine, he wanted to turn back, but his legs locked into place, he raised a hand and wiped the sweat from his brow.

The young man studied the seat and what lay around, huge slabs of grey stone grew upwards from the wood floor to place the throne on a pedestal. his eyes then dropped downwards to what lay beneath the throne, his pulse quickened. It was a book.

suddenly he felt as if he was being drawn in by some unseen power, hypnotised into picking it up, his hands and arms felt alien, as if they were not his own. they grasped the book carefully. It was heavy, ridiculously heavy. Bound in thick leather and the same strange symbols that were on the floors adorned it. He let out a loud slow breath as if his brain was taking in all the information. He began to notice things that he wouldn't usually pay much attention to, especially on something such as a book, for instance he noticed the fine stitching that had been lovingly crafted to bind the pieces of leather together. He noticed amid the symbols the number three had been carved into the leather, He noticed the intricate grooves in the worn cover, He noticed the large ageing piece of black ribbon that was tied in a bow to keep the book shut. after gazing at it for minutes he found himself automatically putting it inside his coat and doing the coat up tight. He didn't understand why he had such urges to take the book, all he knew is that he needed it, desperately, he felt as if strange thoughts had invaded his head, encouraging him to take it for himself. Surely they wouldn't miss it, would they?