Light streams down onto a soft, deep black carpet, scattering into specks of gold along its velvety surface. A single orb, filled with a golden glow, hangs above. Rows and rows of shelves furnished with countless books rest under the resplendent orb of light.

  A young boy sits quietly under the Orb of light, a dark shadow cast on the floor under him. An ancient book rests in his hands, bound with a profoundly dark leather, black as the night itself. Reaching the center of the ancient tome, a small, folded piece of a yellow Papyrus, stained dirty by its age, falls out, coming to rest on the young boy's leg. The boy slowly lifts the paper, bringing it to his eyes, the orb's light circumfulgent, seemingly avoiding the page.

  Unfolding the page slowly, a mysterious, archaic aura begins leaking out... The entire library is clouded in a wave of intense energy, boundless and unfathomable. The world seems to lose its luster as the words scrawled on the Papyrus dominate the environment and demand the boy's attention. Unable to look away, he begins to read the page.

  A short poem appears before his eyes, and the boy, subconsciously, starts to speak, his eyes cloudy, his mind and soul in an incomprehensible, endless trance...

"Life And Death, An Eternal Struggle Up The Summit.

Clawing Back From Below The World.                                                    

At The Peak, All To Fall To The Bottom.                                                

The Road Ends At The Sky."

  A single phrase appears after the poem, and, continuing on, the boy's eyes begin shining a crimson red...

"Reach The Pinnacle Through Life.                                                        

Fall To The Foot Through Death.                                                                  

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Unyielding, Even Under The Burden Of Fate.                                            

Erased, Only His Will Left."

  The boy, his eyes dimming, slowly closes his eyes, and falls backward onto the floor, the page still in hand. Suddenly, Oromius bursts into the room, frantic and concerned. Finding the boy on the floor, he gently picks him up and disappears from the library, reappearing in a small white room.

  Lit by a tiny white crystal, each of its sides a different shade of white, the light shifts color as the crystal slowly turns. The room, furnished with only a plain bed, the color of pure snow, is bare and carries an odd, unsettling atmosphere.

  Oromius quietly sets Astraoth down onto the bed, and lays his hand on the young boy's chest, sending energy through his body, scanning for something, anything that could signify a problem. Closing his eyes, Oromius focuses on searching Astraoth's body, and from the page, finds a stream of demonic energy coursing into Astraoth's body.

  Opening his eyes, Oromius rests his hand onto the page, and, feeling the energy flowing from it, smiles, understanding what occurred. Taking Astraoth into his arms once again, Oromius disappears from the room, and, laying Astraoth down onto his bed, begins to prepare food water, and supplies. Pulling out a map from his spatial ring, Oromius lays it down onto a small, circular wooden table, once again finding the final words of Dracul Mephilius.

  Circling the location of the tomb, Oromius begins to plot out a path to Dracul Mephilius' resting place, cutting through mountains and rivers, forests and lakes.

  Oromius smiles, and, finally speaking, says,"Now, Astraoth will begin his first trial." His eyes turning solemn, Oromius resolves himself once again, preparing himself for what lies ahead...