Chase, p.1
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       Chase, p.1

           Crimson Skye
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  By CrimsonSkye

  Copyright 2014 CrimsonSkye


  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


  "I suppose you bring good news", the old man with his long white beard spoken as he saw the tall dark figure appear before his sight. He reached for the herbal tea potion he made, slowly sipping it down and turning the gaze on the known guest.

  "The opposite, it was..." replied a subtle, masculine voice before him. The cloak he wore was made of fine, black textile with furry fabric on the edges of its hood down to its length. Mysterious as his presence was. His face was being covered with hood but it could be perceived that he was a fine, young man with a sense of unpolished charisma.

  The old one breathe a sigh of dismay and stay silent as he put the tea cup back to its silver platter, producing a soft clink sound. He turned the pages of the book on his hand and finally said, “It’s no good after all… The wicked grows wicked.”

  The hooded man nod in agreement. “Indeed”.

  “First, the Kingdom of Etheria in the West. Now, it’s the neighboring one. What else does he craved for?” the wizard shook his head, scanning the pages of the book. The man stayed in deafening silence as he watched the wizard on his work. His mind was filled with many things that he, himself cannot explain. Remembering something, he speak in his gentle, low voice. “Hamelton was suffering from the curse that had befell them. Have you find the counter spell yet?”

  The candle light glimmered and swayed by the soft breeze that had entered the room from an open window pane. The Old Wizard halted and turned to the young man, breathing another helpless sigh. “Apparently, not.” He paused for a moment and continued with the wrinkled visible on his forehead. “It was a dark powerful spell. Different from the one we known. More ancient and… horrifying.”

  The young man clenched his fist in silence. “Just as I thought.”

  “I’ve searched all the books that I have here, ancient or not but the cure was none to be found on its pages,” the wizard added, sight on the book.

  “Is there any possible way we could help them?” he inquired.

  The Old Wizard shook his head. “It was a shame but there’s nothing we can do, unless the cure was found.” In a sudden moment, the old man remarkably paused as if an idea had flashed on his knowledgeable mind. “A way, there is!” he exclaimed, thumping his aged palm on the wooden table filled with books and papers. “The Book of Ancient Spells! The lost Archmage’s Script! Of course…!”

  “Where was it then?” He wrinkled his brows, unable to comprehend the flow of things and asking where the book was the simple way.

  “It was long gone…” the Old Wizard replied, somber. “Only the Hunter, the Blue Bloods of Lynabria could find it but…” He lost his words.

  “But?” The young one asked in a more quizzical brow than before. The sense of hope and anxiety can be drawn from his handsome face.

  The Old Wizard took a deep breath and said, “They were long gone too. Skull had made their existence come to an end long time ago, down to their last bloodline. Have you not heard of the Extermination of the Blue Bloods?” Hope leaves as the fire in the young man’s eyes died. He knew that Lynabria stood beyond its mighty walls, a fact that the empire survive without a King or an Emperor to rule its people. Suddenly, the Old Wizard spoke again, “However, not all of them had been killed. I’ve heard… as what the rumors tell so, there was still a living soul of Lynabrian blood left.”



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