1 Prologue 1

"Ah, but you have forgotten that nature never listens to reasons."

The thunder strikes were nearing and the dust flew into the air along with the furious wind, as the prophecised sandstorm approached the towering caves. Hundreds of figures huddled together in fear, seeking safety in numbers. Their hoods masked their ghastly countenance and their desperate gazes as their only harbour of safety was slowly encroached upon.

"You are the Oracle! Do something! The people are begging you!" The intricate crown tittered dangerously on the man's head as he tried to maintain his failing prestige, his hand holding onto the last symbol of the prosperous kingdom, and which he had abandoned. But unlike his numerous pretentious portraits displayed in the kingdom, at this moment, his eyes were crazed, his face was viciously torn into a grimace full of panic and fear. Everyone, in the end, feels fear when their end seems imminent, and it is no different whether for a peasant or a king.

The kind king, wise as he had once been, had not realised that everything must return to the ground as it grew from the earth--bare. The one which he has entrusted himself and his people to, did not return his anxious glare but looked towards the darkened sky. Its mouth opened.

"Your Highness."

"Yes! What!" The king's impatience was obvious in his screech.

"There are two roads for you, my sire and lord."

The Oracle turned its purple eyes finally to the king, causing him to flinch. The tranquilty in the purple spheres was a distraction against the turbulent chaos behind the cloaked frame, and suddenly the noise became quiet. The king regained his calm with difficulty and demanded, "Speak."

"To struggle against the powers of nature, a sacrifice of equal magnitude is needed. The magic power required will not be small. There is only one person in your kingdom with sufficient reserves to save everyone here..."

The king paused. He laughed bitterly, "is it We?"

The eyes returned their gaze to the sky. "Yes," the Oracle replied.

The faces of the guards beside the king turned dark, but their eyes flickered uncertainly towards the gathering sandstorm, as the screams and wails of the people resounded in their ears. The king noticed their reactions, and his heart palpilated. The will of his guards was faltering.

He looked at the the Oracle who remained peaceful still amidst the chaos. Hatred rose in his heart. It was not the first time he wondered where everything went wrong. However, his heart still held a little hope that the Oracle was still the same person he had known. And as usual, an answer would be provided. Just as it has always been.

The Oracle seemed to know what he was thinking, but gently shook its head.

"There is another way, but..."

"Tell me!"

The next words it spoke froze the king's blood.

"Or you can sacrifice the people."

"What--"

"Their blood, although measly in magic power, when combined, is sufficient to stop this storm."

The Oracle finally smiled, the crescent eyes shining with an alluring but ominous purple light.

"So which will it be, Your Highness, the people or yours truly?"