Prologue: Days of despair

My father Sorvam, told me that there is magic within everything, even made up ideas such as stories had great power. Of course, I never really believed him when he told me this. For as long as I could remember, my father was an overgrown eccentric child in my eyes. He would always have some story just waiting for my eager ears to listen.

My father was a successful author of many books, and a musician too. With his astounding imagination and stories that he sheltered in that head of his, no wonder why he was so prosperous. 'I guess great people are kind of bonkers,' was my thought of the whole situation.

He loved the times of the past, due to which he failed to keep up with modern society. His office building was made using cobblestone with wooden interior designs, even the sole source of light in his dark office was a single candle light. His office was his sanctuary, often times where he would tell his stories.

Now I know my father was telling the exact truth, there is magic in everything. Real magic, real power. Only when I was much older on the edge of the universe stretching out my hand trying to hold a firm grasp on reality did I understand what my father was telling me.

There was one time in particular. A time when he almost convinced me. I remember that day, still fresh in my mind as if I was reliving it over and over again.

I was an 11 year old lad with thick black hair which flowed to the base of my spine. At the time, we were in Guildford, Surrey in England. It was autumn. The night was humid with the sent of burned candle wax and cinnamon. My father had finished his work in the office and we were about to head home.

"Dad, wait," I muttered, supporting myself off the couch placed in the corner of the room.

"What is it Clover?" my father was reading from a sheet of paper before he focused his eyes through his glasses to my direction.

"Tell me another story before we go." I pleaded.

His shadow swayed in all directions as the candle light bobbed. He straightened his posture, glanced at me and said, "So the prince wants to hear a bed time story."

The wooden floor creaked as he left his desk, approached me and sat on my left.

"What does his highness want to hear this time?"

I wrapped myself with a blanket and curled up my toes in a comfortable position.

"How about the one called time keeper?" I asked.

"Didn't I tell you that one yesterday?"

"Then, the three candles of light?"

"I've been telling you that for a week now."

"Okay then, tell me a new story."

"A new story?", he considered me for a moment and said, "Clover, it's late. We should head home."

I frowned in disappointment, "Okay."

Standing up from the couch, my father faced me as he crouched and said, "I'll tell you one tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded and raised my hands, gesturing for him to carry me. He smiled in understanding, but just then, my nose caught the smell of smoke and a dim light crept over my father's figure.

"Dad, what's that!?", I pointed behind him.

"What's wha-?", he turned to look at his desk and gasped, "Oh NO!"

A single burning sheet of paper near the candle caught my father's attention. He violently removed his glasses, flung it on the left corner of the couch and dashed towards the fiery scene.

He took off his sweater and smacked the flaming sheet of paper. Seeing my father like this reminded me how inept he be can for such a cool guy.

After a few moments, he finally managed to extinguish the fire. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. His tall figure stood silently and his dark shaggy hair seemed to amplify his sulky expression. He reached for the piece of paper, however, he managed to spill a glass of milk on the paper's ashes.

"Agh.", he scoffed trying to clean the mess.

"Dad, are you okay? Need help?" I asked.

"It's okay, I've got this."

Soon, a few moments passed by. After cleaning up, he threw the paper and ashes in a bin he kept next to his desk, walked towards me and sat once again in the couch.

"Well that was something," he sighed.

I inched towards him to take a closer look at his hands. His entire palm was painted in a black muck. In curiosity, I slowly poked his hand.

"Eww, it's sticky and moist," I said playfully.

My father stared at me with his dark brown, reminiscing eyes. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his palms clean and said, "Come to think of it, there is a story I never told you."

"Really? Tell me!", I ushered him.

"Okay, but you must promise to keep this a secret from your mother, okay? There is magic in this story," he said with an expression that filled me with wonder.

I hugged myself tightly under the covers of my blanket while curling up into a ball. His sudden expression made me even more interested.

"Yeah, I promise."

"Okay Clover.", he stood up and took a plane wooden stool from beside the couch, the one he used just for occasions such as this.

Taking up his glasses, my dad placed them properly on his face, sat Infront of me on the stool. He then cleared his throat and began the tale....

"In a time when time never existed, a space consumed by void, everywhere and everything was in complete darkness. And in this darkness, only one thing remained extant....Nothingness. Then, as if materialize from nothing itself, a seed of light was born. This light shone away the darkness and brought forth the beginning of the beginning, the creation of everything. This light was called 'Fostis Elpidas'."

"Fostis Elpidas?", I asked in amazement.

"Yes Clover, it's Greek. It means 'Light of hope'," ever syllable skipped perfectly across his tongue, adding perfect harmony to his unique accent that almost sounded ancient. And with every word he drew me deeper and deeper in awe.

'Fostis Elpidas. Sounds like the first words a mother would say to her newborn child, like the title of a great musical art piece that spoke deeply to one's soul,' I couldn't help but admire the name.

I nodded ever so slowly, urging him to continue, and so he did...

"However, Clover, the darkness devoided of form that once enveloped the light, took on the form of black smoke. This way, it could travel through the light without being repelled by it's effulgence. The smoke roamed through the cosmos for what seemed like an eternity, in search of anything and everything. Soon it found it's way upon the face of the earth, seeking to destroy all forms of life that was within.

"And so, the smoke went and destroyed everything in it's path, leaving nothing behind, no blood, no bones not even the residual screams of it's victims, only a trail of wet, moldy ashes could be found in it's wake. But soon, 11 heroes rose up against the dark smoke and unlike any normal living being, they had great power and strength. Even so, the smoke was too powerful to be defeated by mere mortals.

"Most of the heroes, finally realizing that resistance was futile, accepted their defeat and soon gave up. But in the midst of despair, one of the heroes desperately clung onto hope. He believed that some way, somehow, there must be a way to save the world. Then, as if feeling the cries of struggle from deep within this very man's soul, the light that once chased away the darkness came upon him and granted him a blessing, one that could vanquish the smoke forever.

"The darkness felt this power and fought with this man, trying to consume him. Seeing that this mortal was powerful enough to blow away the smoke with sheer determination and power, the smoke went into hiding.

"Many years passed in peace from the dark smoke. But even now, to this day, there lies a smoke somewhere in the deepest, darkest crevices of reality. Laying dormant, unable to reveal itself. This human that casted away the smoke was soon known as 'The....."

*Skeeerrrrrrrrrkkkkkkkk*

Just as my father was about to speak the title of the hero, the door flew open and cold winds rushed through the entire room and blew out the candle. Just by reflex, I quickly hid my face under the covers of my blanket, shivering and shacking uncontrollably.

I stayed like that for some time before calming down. I peeked over the edge of my blanket, to my shock my father wasn't in sight. My arms tremble as I peered over my blanket only to be greeted by a small, dark shadowy figure on the floor before me, slowly approaching.

Trying my best not let a single sound escape from my mouth, my breath grew unsteady as the figure only got close and closer with every passing moment. Suddenly, light gradually returned to the room as the dark figure jumped onto my chest.

Flinching upon contact, I focused my vision on whatever was on my chest. Realizing what it is, I chuckled at the whole situation and turned my attention to my father's desk.

My eyes widened as I beheld my father standing in my view, realizing he was the one who relit the candle, illuminating the office. Although he had his back turned to me, I could clearly see the light from the candle.

He mumbled something to himself before turning around. He wore a face of worry, one I've never seen before. Guessing that he was concerned about me, I said, "It's okay dad, I'm okay."

"Did Aera give you a fright?" he said, with a light smile

"Not really. She just pounced on me when the light went out," I replied while laughing awkwardly.

Aera was our pet. A black cat that my father owned since he was a young adult. Come to think of it, Aera looks like a kitten despite being 7 years old, in human years.

We both tidied up the office and decided to head home for the night which didn't take long considering that my dad's office was only next door. The exterior of our house looked above average when compared to the neighbouring houses in the area. A two story building made from concrete with a triangular shaped roof.

Upon entering the house I immediately got ready for dinner. After eating, I went upstairs and prepared myself for bed.

Waiting for my mom to tuck me in as she usually does, I laid down on the bed in my moon lit room. Thinking about the story my father had told me earlier, remembering the black smoke he spoke of, I thought that the same black smoke was there, somewhere, waiting to consume me in utter darkness. This brought a sudden feeling of crippling terror making my whole body feel numb.

Soon enough, the door to my room opened. A tall silhouette with shaggy hair entered, it was my father. He was wearing an unusual suit which made him look like some kind of legendary hero. Looking at him, I saw a long navy blue leather jacket with an unbroken collar which he wore over a white shirt made from a fabric I was ignorant of. It glowed as it reflected the beams of light the moon gave off through the creases of the curtains. Tracing my eyes down to his lower half, a navy blue cotton pants was tucked in a pair of shin high black leather boots.

The cold yet gentle night breeze amplified the mysterious aura that he emitted with his presence alone. It was only then I realized that he brought with him two frying pans in each hand. They looked like ordinary frying pans that were rough around the edges, other than that nothing stood out about them.

Somehow, I ignored the urge to question him about his abnormal 'get up', thinking this was just my father being his usual self.

"Isn't mom tucking me in tonight?" I asked, still stunned by his appearance.

He sat beside me at the edge of the bed with the two frying pans in his lap and said, "Clover, I want to give you these?"

He held the frying pans and brought them before me. Hesitating for a brief moment, I lifted my hand and accepted them. They felt warm as if they were recently used, but before I could say anything, my father asked, "You know I love you, right?"

"Y-yes, I do," I stuttered, not knowing why he would ask me such a question?

"If there ever come a time when you feel lost and unable to find your way, just remember that love will guide you home," he said while looking at me with a sorrowful face and a voice filled with regret.

I stared at him with confusion evident on my face. "What are you saying?" I asked.

He peered deeply into my eyes, placed his hand on top of my head and caressed it gently. "Take care of Area and Hara, and your mother for me will you?"

Before I could reply, he got up off the bed, went to the door and paused at the very last step out of the room, "Remember, hope is the light that shines in darkness. Hold on to hope Clover, hold on to hope."

With that, he exited the room leaving me dumfounded with all manner of thoughts running through my head. 'What did he mean?, why did he tell me that?' these were the thoughts that roamed through my head. Little did I know that those would be the last words I would hear from my father for a long time...

That night. In my dream my mother and father were speaking to each other. Their voices, muffled and distant.

"You know, you didn't have to tell him that story," she scolded him.

And in my dream my father replied, "It's okay my love, besides, it's just a story. That's all it is, nothing more."

After that day the man that taught me how to fight, how to live, and most importantly, the man that helped me become who I am today, went missing. Just POOF, without a sound, without a trace, without even saying goodbye. And thus this is the beginning of the story of a boy who freed himself from the bounds and shackles of reality to find that great power can be found where you least expect it.....

*Author's Note*

I wrote the prologue in the 1st person because, I wanted you guys to get a better perspective on how the MC started off. The subsequent chapters will be written in 3rd person.

Also this is the first time I'm doing something like this, my efforts in writing this prologue should prove this.

So please, don't hesitate to give your honest opinions in the comments.

This will make me aware of my mistakes and give me a better insight on how to improve my writing.

Thank you for reading.

This is a message from your friendly neighborhood Author-san.