Heavenly Fate - Book 1 in the Charted Fate Trilogy

Okayy... o-o So this is the Novel I'm sending off for Publication soon. This is just the prologue I'll post up. :3




Prologue ...

“We’re agreed then,” the man spoke, his dark black cloak fell to the floor, his hood covered his face leaving his red, scarlet lips on show. His voice boomed around the dark and dingy room, somewhere a rat squeaked and scurried, dashing into a hole and into the murky blackness beyond the eerie yellow light which illuminated the small room. Three figures stood around a large book, the man who had spoke first had his hand on the open double page, his fingers splayed, distorting the image in which he strived to cover, for if he covered it the idea of it happening wasn’t so bad.

“We cannot let the Children arise,” he murmured, his voice lowering. His fingers twitched as he spoke and all eyes were drawn to the white bone like fingers, his skin was tight around the knuckles. The white skin bore strange markings; ink black drawings which looked as if they had been sewn into the skin by a five year old, the rest of the picture hidden by his large black sleeve. His finger twitched again, the middle one on which bore a large raven and ruby ring.

“I do not understand... Sir... Why these... these children cannot be left, as long as nobody tells them of their gifts?” the shorter of the figures asked, his voice was low.

“Because, idiot, the powers will develop on their own. If we kill them then all the problems will end now,” the figure beside him spoke, its voice light, an octave higher than the others, making her as a woman.

“They cannot be left for the reason Cassandra speaks of, but they must not die,” the first of the three spoke, it was obvious he was the leader out of the small gathering by the way the others bowed in his presence and spoke only softly to him, like he was a Saint, fallen to Earth. “For if they die then they will be reborn again, over and over again, if we keep them alive we won’t have to keep tracking them and maybe we can find a way in which to end this curse,” he said, his hand curling up into a fist.

“We shall bring them to you,” Cassandra said, removing her hood and showing a young face, though her eyes were cold and icy, with no pupil the whole eyeball was covered in a white mist. She bowed. “My Sire,” she spoke before moving with a swirl of the cloaks and disappearing from the room. A few footfalls and an opening and closing of a heavy door later and the men were left alone.

“You should not have involved the woman, My Sire,” the second of the two men spoke, removing his hood. He had an old face, worn with a long life, grey hair fell into his eyes and black tattoos covered his skin in the same style as the other man, black thread that seemed sewn on by a child.

“She is useful, she has gifts that we can use,” the leader spoke gruffly, tapping his ringed finger again.

“Women are useless Sire, they have been. It is not of the old ways.”

“ENOUGH!” the leader boomed, his hood still covered his face. “The old ways cannot help us here, this is proof, these children are what stand in our way, and they could tip the balance.”

“You mean they could right it,” the old man replied coldly. “If you do not keep with the old ways we will not keep the power we hold.”

“Leave me now Alexander, I need some time alone. All I know is that we need those children alive.”

“Yes... My Sire,” the man bowed before disappearing into the darkness beyond. The leader paused, listening to the footsteps before the open and close of the heavy door. He paused and then removed his hand from the picture. It was a picture of three children; one held in its hands a pen, words swirled around her, the other held a paintbrush, colours swirling around her and the other was blank, holding hands with both the other figures, it stood alone and in darkness, representing a power that was unknown.

“This cannot happen...” he whispered for a moment before following his comrades into the darkness, listening to the thud of the dark oak door.