The old man strode across the hall, his robes sweeping upon the floor - the gentle breeze caused by his movement, lifting the hem ever so slightly. He paused by the window and with a benign sigh, stared out into the land beyond.

Septonia.

A land once regarded for its beauty. A land once in harmony with nature. A land which even the Gods had once smiled upon. There was a time when the people of Septonia could walk the streets without fear. When love prevailed. When good was the order of the day.

And now?

Septonia was but a pale contrast of what it used to be. Gone was the laughter that used to fill the air. A barren shell - devoid of nature, devoid of colour, devoid of love - that was what Septonia had become.

The old man stroked his beard in contemplation as he once again revived the memories of yester days.

She had been his best student. And to a certain extent, his favourite. He had taught her well, maybe far too well.
He had seen it though. He had seen it the very first time he laid eyes on her. Yet he chose to ignore it. He thought that with the proper guidance and development, he could change her. He could change destiny.

He had been wrong.

She learned fast. In time, she grew to be as powerful as he. But that also meant he had started to lose whatever control he had over her. No matter how much he had forbade it, no matter how much he had warned her against it, she would not listen. Her fascination with the Dark Arts had eventually consumed her.

The student very soon eclipsed her sage.

He sighed again as he thought of Ruella. Beautiful, enchanting Ruella. If only that beauty extended to her heart.
Ruella on her own was bad enough. Ruella plus a certain bandit queen was about all Septonia could take. With the appearance of Anyss, he knew then that he had totally lost his protégé to the Dark side.

No matter how hard he had tried to prevent it, the first part of the prophecy had sounded true. Ruella and Anyss were now masters over Septonia. And this - his eyes swept over the barren land again - this had been the outcome of their rule.

He marched back towards his work table where there laid an opened book. Its leather cover worn and cracked. Its tattered binding held up only by magick. Its pages yellow from the many handling. With careful fingers, he gently flipped through it, pausing at one particular page. His eyes rested on the words that were written within.

A slight crease played upon his forehead as he reread the two quatrains. It was but a manner of habit for he already knew them by heart. He had already known the outcome of it all since the very beginning.

And he knew what needed to be done.

For Septonia to return to what it used to be, he had to make sure that the second quatrain would be fulfilled.
The frown ironed out as he once again looked out towards the land. The laughter would return and good will eventually triumph.