Prologue

One thousand years ago…

A small clearing in a forest. Two men arrive, from opposite directions, one is carrying a small sack, something inside is struggling.

“Is he puissant ?”

“No, he will be but you need to wait”

“For how long ?”

“Empires will rise and fall before he is ready, wait.”

“Shall we meet again, here ?”

“I expect we must”

Two men leave.

One hundred years ago…

A small clearing in a forest. Two men arrive, together, one is carrying a small sack, something inside is struggling.

“Is he puissant ?”

“No, he will be but you need to wait”

“For how long ?”

“For an age of wonders and horrors, wait”

“Shall we meet again, here ?”

“I expect we must”

Two men leave

Ten years ago…

A small clearing in a forest. One man arrives, he is carrying a small sack, something inside is struggling. He waits,no one comes.

“He is puissant”

Silence

“Now”

Silence

He opens the sack, and shakes the contents onto the damp grass. A small wizened figure stretches on the ground, stands up and speaks.

“He didn’t come”. His voice is like autumn leaves crackling underfoot.

“I know, do it now”

“Are you sure ?”

“Yes, open the gate.”

A moment of stillness.

A crackle of leaves,he speaks – “It is done”

One man leaves, a small wizened figure sits crossed legged on the grass,and shouts:

“Am I free now, am I ?”

Now…