by Thomas Bailey

Created on: July 31, 2007

PROLOGUE

Fustian awoke with a start. Something was different that morning. Yes, it was definitely morning, he knew that. Not because it was light, for it was never light in this place. Rather, he had spent so many days and nights traveling through the Oscuria Forest that he now knew how to tell the difference between night and day, even though darkness shrouded them both.

Though it had been long since Fustian had seen the light of day, he still had a sense that somewhere outside of the Forest, in the world he had known, that day and night still continued as before. Something inside him told him that life continued as normal elsewhere, even though his own world had been turned upside down.

Fustian felt a slight nip in the air. And something else. There was something different about the air that morning. Not just a hint of cold, which reminded him of the need to find shelter for the winter. But something.wet. Yes, that was it. There was moisture in the air that morning. Was it rain? "No", he thought, "that's not it".
The last time he had felt air like this he was."That's it" he thought. "There's a body of water nearby. It must be the River, or perhaps even the Sea."

Fustian's mood lightened considerably. Surely he would get out of this Forest of darkness today. If the Sea was nearby, or the River Vita, then he had to be near the edge of the Forest. Ah, to see light again! Perhaps even to see people. But wait. It was because of people that he was in this situation-without a home, without friends, without moneyand until now, without hope. Perhaps it was too soon for people. Ah, but light. That he could look forward to. And food.

He hadn't eaten anything for about three days-at least as near as he could reckon the days in this place. It had been a brief encounter. In fact, deep down, Fustian was still unsure if it had actually happened. He had heard stories about the Magia. Legends really. Myths. He didn't actually believe they existed, much less that he would ever meet one. And then, one night, as he lay exhausted, there they were. About a dozen of them; men or women, he wasn't really sure. There was no light by which to see them, except that they seemed to be a source of light themselves. They seemed to emit a slight silvery glow. To them it was a common thing; to Fustian it was unbelievable.

Short creatures, they were; two or three feet tall, and not particularly muscular. At a distance, they might even look like children. Up close, there was no mistaking them

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