Prologue

Mountain, The Capital Shire of the Ruling Sphere of Phelia. Twenty years ago The room was big. Mostly Wall apart from the huge window. An entire wall of glass overlooking a valley below and a lake that sparkled blue in the late morning sun. Blue lake they called it. It was a lava-dammed lake that had withstood years of weathering and floodings, even as the glacial snow melted and moved down from the white mountains deep in the heartland of Crinia. Sweeping through Lemala before making its way down to the Capital Shire of Phelia, the Ruling sphere in this realm. The Great Channel they called it. The outlet. The outlet of the crystal clear blue lava lake dug out through the hands of men to relieve the overfed lake and hence, the valley from its periodic floodings. It was the water way that linked those in the capital to the Harua sea, to Halelia and to the spheres beyond. This mountain, the rock from whence the room had been hewed out of, was the realms seat of power. Now, boats could be seen. Steamers, only that steam was not what powered them. Had it been that, it would have meant using wood and the heartless hacking of the very trees that strived to maintain a balance within the realm. It would have meant degeneration. A slow death to this realm much like the one that they had once inhabited, but they had learnt their lesson. They were now better educated and better equipped to fight the growing darkness that had once consumed them, or that was what he now hoped. The discovery of this fourth dimension had been their saving grace. When they had wandered in darkness, a people lost and without hope or at least that was what the Knowledge that he had gleaned over the years now suggested, they finally found the light. They being their ancestors. The primevals of Phelia who had found this place and with it a better way of life with such power and such hope for those who had once been hopeless. Hopelessness was the thing that he now hoped would never need to happen again. Now pulling his thoughts back to the room, a disgruntled Birit looked down. It was in this very room that it had happened. Eleven years ago he had received his ward. A beautiful boy with startling blue eyes and a mop of blue curly hair to match. His skin, his complexion, distinguished him. Yet, it made him one with the people that he would one day serve. With that last thought, Birit heaved out a heavy tired sigh and turned to walk back the way he had come in. Only this time he did not go all the way back to his quarters. Instead, he branched to the right and entered the young prince's study. The panel was open. Therefore, it needed no activating. All the same, he knew that his ward was not reckless. There was always a fail safe. A barrier that kept all others out apart from those whom he approved of. As he came to a stop before the royal desk, the old man sighed. A thing that he had been happening a lot lately, ever since the Gathering had decided on that matter and left him with the heavy responsibility of preparing his ward for the ceremony. As if he was not going through hell already, the old man shook his head and his white mane with it. However, he knew that there was no way around it. They had no option. It was either that all they would all end up where it all began. Doomed by the very world that had saved them.