Prologue #1The battle had been lost. He knew it before he even opened his eyes. He could feel pain throughout his body and felt the familiar sensation of cold air on open skin. He tried to raise his arm but it was trapped under something. With what strength she had left she pulled. His arm came free. He opened his eyes and immediately had to stop himself from screaming. In front of her was the corpse of her lover. Strands of his hair had been torn from his skull along with the flesh to which it was attached. Parts of his skin had been peeled away, revealing bones and muscles. She raised her hand and gently caressed what was left of his cheek. He was cold. She could feel tears streaming down her face. His only love, his only love, dead. He forced himself to turn away from him and sat down. Now he could see the extent of his injuries. He had a long gash from his chest to his side. He watched the blood pour out. The bright, shimmering green, once called beautiful, looked sickly as it poured out of her. When his senses returned, he realized he couldn't feel his legs. He squinted to see in the darkness. His legs had been twisted and broken and were in an awkward position. It made her sick to look at them. He focused on the rest of the room. The once large halls were drenched in blood, which dripped down the walls and formed large pools on the floor. The once bright room was immersed in shadow and darkness. Then there were the bodies. It was hard to see in the dark, but they were there. The corpses of his allies littered the floor. They were maimed, mutilated and barely recognisable, but he could have named each one. They had been his advice, his friends. He tried desperately to move but couldn't. He... middle of paper... hid it well. “You must die too,” he said slowly. Suddenly she was terrified again. She felt something holding her back as the black figure approached. He felt the cold metal of the glove on his skin. Then the Black figure moved his hand and felt the icy spikes pierce his neck. She barely had time to scream as the figure tore her throat out. The Prophet watched, motionless. The girl's aura was fading, as was normal for her people. His pupils lost their emerald green color and turned milky white. All signs of life vanished. He let out a singular breath that didn't require air. He was breathing out his life essence. A bright green vapor left his lips, writhing, curling, dancing, and then disappeared. He closed her eyelids and then turned to leave. The stench of corpses and the low scraping of the Black Wraith accompanied him to the door.