Wielders of Magic, Book 1: A Spell Binding Tale
Prologue

(Excuse the spelling errors, I have yet to edit this. Thanks for reading, even years after it was created. I appreciate all of you!)

The Spellbinder Family were scattered to the wind once the WitchHunters came. They were small then, young and new, not knowing the terribleworld they lived in. Now that they have a taste of that world, and know thatthey are feared, always being hunted and destroyed at every turn, they begin torealize this cannot go on if they are ever to have a family of their own. TheSpellbinders have the power to change that world, to destroy all those who hadwronged them and create a better world for their decedents.

One of them will rise to power, and they will change the world with a touch of a finger; old ways that lay dormant for centuries. Magic will be reunited with steal, for the left hand can not do without the right . . .

His hands were nimble, with long, skilled fingers that guided araven quill along a paper with grace. He did this every night, copyingdocuments and poems, papers and story's etc. He wasn't paid very well, but themoney was enough to keep him in his own house.

"I am grateful for your . . ." He said softly tohimself, his hand writing with incredible speed along the paper as hischocolate brown eyes read the document. It was given to him by the mayor of thetown, who was always suspicious of his talents. This didn't stop him from doingbusiness with Jackson though; he had many important things to do and didn'thave much time to copy his papers out himself. Paying someone to do it tookaway a lot of stress, and the warlock was the only one in town who would doit.

But if his true nature was ever found out, no one would be doingbusiness with him. No one would be doing anything with him at all; he would beburned alive without a second thought. As you may have guessed, wieldersof magic were not permitted in the town, for any reason.

Punishable by death.

Jackson's speed started to increase as he neared the end of hiswork, excited at the thought of bed, and sleep. His writing was starting to becomesloppy, but that didn't stop him, he just wanted to be done!

At this pace, one had to be very concentrated . . .

"Mr. Splendor!" A voice shouted, fists wrappingagainst his door loudly. Jackson's hand flew across the page and smearedeverything, knocking over his bottle of ink as well and spilling it all overhis desk.

He sat and stared at it, silently cursing.

"Mr. Splendor!"

"What in the name of the Abyss do you want!?" He gotup, throwing his chair across the floor and storming over to the door, yankingit open. Three armored men stood in its wake, each bearing a weapon thatcould kill him in an instant.

He gulped. "Uh . . . yes?"

"The mayor has sent us to search your home." The onein the middle stated, his hand going to his sword hilt. "Strange sightingsof magic have been seen in the city, and we are investigating before morepeople are hurt."

Jackson's mind jumped back to three days ago, analyzing hismovements and activities, searching for a slip of the hand, a wrong word said,something that would have caused a burst of unintended magic; but he foundnone.

"Can we come in please?"

"Oh, yes of course!" He chuckled nervously and movedout of the way, letting the three enter his relatively small home. "I hopeyou replace whoever - . . . what was hurt?"

"Eight people and two children. Five dead," He turnedhis eyes on him. "One of them a child."

Jackson gulped again. Where did he mess up? He searched histhoughts, baffled at the amount of people who had died. It had to be him, onlyhe could do something so terrible with a single lift of his finger. But if itwasn't, it had to be another magic wielder in the town.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

"What’s this?" One of the men, dressed in copperarmor, pulled out a large book. He blew the dust off of it and read the title.". . . Incantations, and Tricks of the Hand . . . the Arts of-" Hesucked in his breath, dropping it to the floor. "Magic!" The booksuddenly disappeared, making them all gasp in horror.

The witch hunters whipped around, weapons drawn, only to replaceJackson gone, and the room cleared of all its belongings. One note lay on thetable, written in black ink upon yellowed paper.

The leader of the group, Merivilous, picked it up, read it, and thencrushed it in his hand. He shouted angrily and slammed his fist on the table,cracking it down the middle. "We are fools! Come on, lets’ go alert themayor! You got his face right?" He turned and looked at the female of thegroup.

"Sure did. Every time." Lilith took a paper from herclip board and held it in front of him; a flawless drawing of Jackson Splendor."I'll have it copied and spread throughout the town along with itsneighbors."

"Good, do that." He nodded and looked over to hisbrother. "Tiranous, you come with me. Lilith, you know what to do."The two brothers walked out of the place, mounting their horses and riding offinto the street, going to tell the mayor of what they had seen.

Lilith picked up the note, unfolding it and grinning as sheread. You people think you cancatch a Warlock, but once you replace one you never know what to do withyourselves.

"Oh, you just wait Mr. Splendor; we were caught off guardfor a moment." She crumpled it up again, setting it ablaze with her handand throwing it to the floor. "We will replace you, and we will killyou."

She had had magic all her life, and what better way to hide thanto hunt her fellow magicians? It would illuminate her competitors as well, whenthe time arose that warlocks and witches would arise again.

She was as black as the magic she possessed.

The house went up in flames, and Lilith didn't turn a blind eyeto see her work. She had done it many times before, and was all too familiarwith the sight.

(Two days ago . . .)

"Hello miss, what can I get you today? Your namemaybe?"

"Oh no, just a loaf. Wheat if you don't mind."Drusilla stood at the counter of Bearton's Breads, a heavy black robe drapedover her slender form, hiding her beautiful white wings and shadowing herstrange colored eyes. She didn't want to attract any attention to herself inthis town, especially when posters of her face littered the streets, crying outto everyone to replace the "Red Witch". She had had some unpleasantexperiences with the neighboring towns, ones that left some people either hurtor dead. She didn't want to think of it now, not while she was trying to hideeverything about her.

"Here you are Miss, one loaf of wheat bread." Beartonhanded over the goods in a paper bag, eyeing her, trying to spot a crack in hershell of protection. "Why are you so . . . silent, my lady?"

"I am not your lady, and I am what I am." She noddedin thankfulness, handing him his money and exiting the place. She walked alongthe streets with her hood down low, trying not to draw eyes to her. She wantedeveryone to just leave her alone, not to stare at her as if she was a . ..

Well, a murderer.

Oh but she was, and she knew it. Her form would give someone theimpression that she was an Angel, but behind that form was a devastating sleepingdragon that was just waiting to be awakened. She couldn't tame it, she didn'tknow how, so all she did was avoid any kind of risky activities.

But sometimes, her anger would just slip out of her grasp, flying off into the sky until she could not reach it any longer. The Abyss was the only word to describe the feeling.

"Hey, who is this?" A man with a cane appeared besideher as she walked through a dark ally, poking her left thigh as two large menexited the buildings, surrounding her.

Drusilla sucked in her breath, clutching her bread tightly.

"Oh," The short man put his cane up to her face,pushing her low cowl off of her head and letting her strawberry hair flow downaround her shoulders. "Oh! Well, aren't you a beauty?"

The Red Witch started to talk hurriedly, trying to walk pastthem. "Please, let me go, you don't know what you’re gettinginto-"

One of the large men wrapped his hand around her mouth, almostcrushing her. She tried to cry out, only he squeezed with more force. The other came upbehind her and took a firm hold on her black robes, ripping them fromher.

Drusilla shrieked, a giant shock wave slamminginto the three men and throwing them into the walls of the buildings on eitherside of the ally. They all slid down to the ground with a groan, the housesshaking and large cracks spidering up their frames.

The Red Witch gasped, watching in horror as they slowly startedto topple over into the ally. She screamed and flapped her giant wings,hurriedly flying out of the tight space as bricks fell down behind her, buryingthe three men before they could escape.

Drusilla fell out into the street, her feet being hit by afalling piece of stone and throwing her off. Her wings hit hard on the dirt andher face ate it, dust flying up around her, as she lay lifeless.

Everyone gasped. "Witch!" Someone cried, othersjoining in and scattering the place as the authorities began to show up.

"Get up!" A man shouted, pointing a spear at her back.Slowly Drusilla got up, beaten and battered by the falling bricks and burned bysliding through the street. Her white dress had been torn at the end, at leastcovering up the bloodstains that had been there before. Unfortunately, though,her white boots were not, and were still splattered with blood from her lastencounter in the town before.

This time, she feared, would be no different.

"Please, stay away!" She cried, wiping the blood, froma cut on her face, away with her hand. "You will be killed!"

"Put your hands up, Witch, before I cut them off!"Another man started to advance towards her along with three others, allwielding spears.

"Please, I cannot control it!" Drusilla sobbed, tearsmaking streams down her dirt covered face. One of the men stabbed at her withhis weapon, making her jump back and be cut by one behind her. She screamed andanother shock wave blew the crowd away, crushing their internal organs andkilling every last one of them.

The Red Witch stared in horror at her deeds and shrieked,covering her mouth in unbelievable agony. She had to flee before others came totry and destroy her before they came to die!

Drusilla took to the sky, her wings a little hurt but not enoughto stop her flight. She had to leave before everyone was killed, before alldied at her uncontrolled hand.

If only she could control it. If only she knew, what wonderfulmagic she possessed that was continually covered up by the devastation.

She would one day, she just had to meet someone first, someonelike herself. What she didn't know was that she was closer to meeting thatperson than ever before, and that good days were ahead.

Well, good days for a while anyway . . .