1 Prologue

"I feel like one

Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,

Whose lights are fled,

Whose garlands dead,

And all but he departed!"

- (Oft to be stilly night by Thomas Moore)

The sound of footsteps echoed on the dilapidated forest path, due to the repeated ignorance of it's upkeep,the concrete of the once pristine and clean path meant for strolling and hunting birds had now broken apart almost mixing in with the earth.Weeds had covered it's body as if reminding it that it was nothing more than a mere artificial substance of utmost uselessness if the supreme forces of nature didn't want it around.

The path was certainly very uncomfortable to walk on. The person running with all his might was, bare feet, the force of his steps strong enough to crush the already dilapidated path further into white powder. The sound of his footsteps were accompanied by the clanking of a half broken metal shackle which still bound his legs like a single black splotch of ink on a white sheet of paper.

The person was panting, his breathing more like a ragged street dog on the brink of death that had been running around after being chased by some hooligan merchant heirs who had nothing better to do then display cruelty over the weak. His whole person seemed like a big bloodstain, his eyes unfocused as if on the edge of loosing consciousness, as soon as he crossed the forest path, a rather broken down carriage came into his view.

A hand remained extended out of the carriage as if beckoning to him and by this he knew they had arrived, he smiled and tried his luck at increasing his pace yet at this very moment a arrow pierced through his right shoulder and another one grazed the back of his left leg.

A mocking laughter spread through the woods , seeming to be in extreme excitement and then a voice rung out "Run! run as fast as you can, I'll give you a year, exactly on the last day of the celestial year , a year from now, I'll bring your dicapitated head and feed it to the ghouls of the underworld ,you dirty slave!". Then the voice turned to pass an order "NOW!" he commanded in an authorative voice that had no resemblance to his previously mirthful laughter and soon the already black night sky seemed to be further shrouded by a thick canopy of menacing, abyssal darkness.

One could see in the faint moonlight that thousands of arrows were released at the same time and they were now chasing none but a single person, an escaping prisoner . Once again the voice rang out "Run faster you son of a b*tch, don't ruin my entertainment".

The escaping prisoner knew what was coming his way even though he never looked back even for a second. There seemed to be no sense of fear in his eyes but what lingered was a mellowed down rage. His legs seemed exhausted, after all the arrow had wounded his legs pretty well even though it had not pierced through the bone yet the young man's resilience was one to praise he never stopped his stride and with one final effort he leaped into the carriage and as soon as his limp body crashed with a big thud on the hard wood, he was dragged in by a second hand, hiding away his bloodied body. A series of loud spell chanting severed through the air accompanying the sound of the arrows piercing through it and then just like that, the carriage disappeared, mixing in with the air leaving behind only a thick trail of grey smoke.