Captured Souls: Prologue

“The Future is dark, Warlock.” The Sybil said, staring across the table at the man in front of her.

He nodded, his face hidden behind a large black hood. “Name your price.”

She chuckled darkly, pointing a long finger towards him. “Your most prized possession.”

He smiled at her, his white teeth barely showing behind the hood, before putting his hand inside his cloak and taking out a silver faintly glowing orb. He handed it to her, and she put it to her ear, hearing the faint whispers from within.

“Ah.” She muttered to herself. “A soul. Silver.” She noted, running her finger down it. “Silver is a strong colour. The Thing still alive?” The Warlock nodded again. “Good, good. This is a rare weapon.”

He opened his mouth. “How…”

She glared at him, not scared of the person she could barely make out. “Please, Warlock, you have your magic, I have mine. Yes, this is a weapon. But it is not your most prized.” She stood up and shuffled over to a shelf, placing the orb in a box and snapping it shut. “However, it will do. For now.” Sitting back down, she leant against the back of the chair and shut her eyes. “The future is dark.” She repeated. “There will be a war, a fight. If you win, it will be at terrible cost. If you lose…You will loose all you hold dear. But what will happen? I cannot say…” She opened her eyes. “I do, however, have something you can use. Something you might find comes in handy.”

“Really?” The warlock muttered, loathing for the Sybil showing in his voice. “Name your price.”

She smiled again. “Your most prized possession.”

He stood up, his cloak rippling around him. “I do not believe a word you say.” He snarled. “I will not give anything else for nothing!” He turned on the stop and threw open the door, letting in the frigid winter air, And jumped out of the small cabin.

She watched him go, muttering a small oath in a language no one else would understand. “The curse is set. There is no way out.”