I'm posting with little intent to update quickly (however, update I shall) because I'm sick of confusing myself whenever I open my 'in progress' file on my drives and see a completed prologue staring me in the face. I'm actually mid-way through the first (next) chapter while posting this.

Cover of White

“Losing the others was difficult, but this? This is too much.” She wasn’t listening, not closely at least. There was nothing interesting to watch outside, but aside from the small candle sitting next to her bed, the bubbled glass in the sanctum wall was the only other source of light.

“We’ll call him back- force him if we have to. I’ll get the troops ready to go immediately with the summons.”

“He’s going to answer for this.” Ugh…

“Who; Felix?” She had to ask, she knew the answer, but spoke up anyways. Her voice had recovered quickly- a throat worn raw by the cold air and snow from the difficult return to the village. She was still bed-ridden however- they both were. Her partner was in a different room though, and she looked up into the Chief’s eyes expectantly.

“Of course Felix.” Puelle responded, clenching and unclenching his hands in aggravation. Oh; how sweet, he was trying to keep in his temper controlled around her. “You can’t expect Prox to take this lying down, do you? I let that scoundrel Isaac go without punishment in exchange for what they did at the Lighthouse, but to have my charity and gratitude returned with only lies and deceit-! I can’t just-”

“Yes you can.” She cut in. The pillows behind her head and back had grown flat from being leaned on, her arms wrapped in layers of herb-soaked gauze so she couldn’t move to adjust them. He marched forwards, green robes whispering against the stone floor, and did it for her without asking. She just moved to make things easier before settling back down. “Won’t you sit?” She offered.

“No.” He answered shortly, stepping back again and folding his hands together high over his chest. The black dredges of his hair framed the strong angles of his tinted face, piercing red eyes staring down at her from under thick black brows. “And no, I can’t.”

“Forget it? I don’t see why not.”

“There’s principle at stake here!”

“I thought it was a matter of honour.” She added heat to the last word as he lifted one fist threateningly towards her. He wouldn’t dare- they didn’t get along, and he’d taken shots to ‘discipline’ her as a child, but he wouldn’t dare strike her now or again. He flexed his hand several times and lowered it, but his eyes were flashing brilliantly.

“You should be the last person to forgive him.”

“Just hearing you say that makes me want to do it all the more- not that he needs forgiveness.”

“He’s a heartless murderer!” Puelle’s eyes flashed again, small whisks of red energy lacing around his irate form as he towered over her bedside. “He came waltzing back through the village and told us all that you were dead! That a dragon- a dragon!- of all things, had defeated the both of you. Pah!” He whirled away from her, facing the window and placing one hand on the sill, the other at his belt and showing her the sharp, angered lines of his profile. She resisted the urge not to roll her eyes at him, but it was hard.

“Uncle-”

“No, you listen, Karst!” She blinked as he rounded right back on her again, the threads of psynergy in his aura becoming bristled and clearly defined. It wasn’t just his temper then, it was real anger and she found herself without words as he let the heat run his tongue for him.

“Magic was worked in that place; I know that, you’ve already told me about the influence the Stone of Sages held in Mars Lighthouse. But it doesn’t excuse him! There was no guilt in him upon his return to Prox! Not one sigh or parting glance- I watched him! He lied to everyone about dragon attack and used it to buoy himself up in the public eye- disgusting!”

“I don’t see how sending soldiers after him is supposed to make things any better.” She argued, not really knowing how to approach him, but wanting to deflate the idea if she could. It didn’t work though; he’d already made up his mind.

“They’ll find him, and then bring him back to face justice here in Prox, that’s what it’ll do. It’ll make at least some amends. I’ll never forgive him for this, but if it keeps the rest of the villagers from looking down on Vale then it’s the best choice. Relations are bad enough as is…” He ran one hand back through his dread-locked hair, puffing out his cheeks and dropping down into the wooden chair he’d left empty and cold this whole time.

“You look exhausted… Are you really sure this’s worth it?” His sharp look told her to hold her tongue, but she boorishly pushed on. “Why don’t you just let me get up and speak to everyone? I’m not mad the same way you are- not yet!” He’d opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him down quick and sharp.

“Not yet.” She repeated, wishing her arms weren’t too sore to gesture with to reaffirm her point. “I was there, you weren’t. I spoke to him, you didn’t. Just leave it be- Do you have any idea what marching into the centre of Vale would do to your precious relations? It’d be a hell of a lot worse than some small resentment festering up here.”

“I’d rather have Vale cowering than Prox rotting- don’t argue!” They kept cutting one another off, but he barked back at her exactly the same way she had a few minutes before. But this time she couldn’t think of a comment to rebuke him with, and he finally offered a coy, triumphant smirk.

“I will journey south with a small group of soldiers.” He purred, and she found her jaw clenched tightly. “You and Agatio have earned your rest, leave things now to those of us who could do nothing but watch the firing from afar.”

He swirled to his feet- it was the only way to properly describe it. Robes billowing around him and swaying majestically as if he really had won something. Her teeth were locked so hard her head began to hurt, never mind her jaw.

“I’m going too.” She grunted, causing him to freeze with his hand on the brass doorknob. He twisted his head back over his shoulder, just enough for her to make out one crimson eye.

“…What?”

“You heard me.”

“Karst-”

“Shut up.” Sore, sore, sore. Every muscle was still tender, bones brittle. It was hard to even lift the covers of the bed, swinging her legs over the side was enough to leave her breathless, and standing just-

“Lay down!” Now it was her turn to feel triumphant. There was an edge of worry in his voice, and his hands on her weren’t as rough as they might’ve been a few minutes earlier. He was still gruff, still ominous, but as he put her back to bed and made sure the blankets were all well and up around her chin, he was shaken.

“I’m going with you.” She said again, watching the conflict in his eyes before closing her own. She did feel tired… “Either I travel with you and the soldiers to Vale, or I follow you on my own. You can avoid all of this if you just drop it. Then again…” It was her turn for the coy, shamless smile.

“You didn’t like my mother too much anyways, why should you care if I kill myself traveling cross country?” The words themselves weren’t chosen very carefully, but the overall effect was a barbed comment which hit and stuck. Karst didn’t even have to open her eyes to see the glow of red which leapt up around his form, or feel the callous heat in his gaze.

She was very lucky she knew him so well; anyone less familiar might’ve been suddenly frightened for their own life. Not health- life.

“Do not speak of what you don’t know.”

“Likewise, Uncle.” She opened her eyes, looking straight up to see an alien expression stretched across his salamander skin. Not angered, not content, no peace or rest or even strong conviction. It was almost unnerving to see him skittish, even if it was only for such a brief moment before he spoke.

“I’m taking soldiers to Vale, and bringing him back here.”

“And I’m going with you.”

“Only once you’ve recovered.” Oh no, he wasn’t going to try and catch her in a conditional… she wasn’t a child anymore.

“I go when the men leave, or I do it alone.” Conflict. Frustration, anger, irritation… worry.

“Not even with Agatio?”

“I can’t speak for him, but I’ll make sure to ask.” She felt tired… “I go when you go.”

He nodded silently, and left. Apart from the Elder, no one else in Prox could force him to compromise. Saturos once could, and Menardi when she tried… but those days felt like a very long time ago…

'It’s snowing…’

"You have been brought before this council indicted on several accounts. Trespassing on sacred grounds, Conspiracy, Reckless Endangerment, Desecration of sacred grounds, Obstruction of Justice, as well as three counts of Theft, and Two counts of Kidnapping."

"If you are found guilty of these assorted offenses, the combined penalties range from Penance, Incarceration, Exile, or Death."

"How do you plea?"

Similar to another story I posted a few days ago, I'd advise that if you liked this Prologue, please just add it to alerts and then casually check back in... a couple months. School phails at writing.