Secrets and Truths: Prologue

She stared nervously down the dark hallway. Her pale hands clenched in sweaty balls as her greasy red hair strayed in a mess around her head. Her green-blue eyes blinked back the fear as she sighed and took a step.
     "Here we go."
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

     1,5000 years ago, a kingdom called Ashra thrived in the country of Nabdeem. The small, humble, yet wealthy kingdom grew more and more abundant in it's population, goods, and reputation. Ruled by a righteous Queen, Shra'di, Ashra thrived. Throughout the land, a powerful and very wicked man shadowed the streets.Thrown into the streets from childhood, the man had grown into a lonely state, never talked to, never noticed. So, with great effort and time did he grow to obtain his well-known reputation and name, Shalkir. Buildings were burned to the gound, cities were terrorized, people were killed. This man was stricken with greed and fervently seeked for the throne. Many times did he plant spies and try to place spells on the kingdom and on the palace, but only to find it was in vain, for there in the castle was his old nemesis, the palace wizard named Ralak'd. The old wizard, Shalkir knew, was growing weaker and weaker as he tried for so many years to ward off the evil man, and would soon no longer be able to keep the Queen safe. His chance was soon to come.

     Deep within the palace, the throne room was the only room lit. The dome-like room was plated with pearl-like marble, shiny and smoothe. From the ceiling hung a large  the queen sat impatiently. Night was nigh and she was held in her throne by one of Ralak'd's frustrating force fields.
     "Now, Shra'di," the old man paced in front of the seated woman, "I need you to be patient with me."
     "Patient? Hah! You think I am going to sit here all night just because you want me to listen to nonsense?!"
     " It's not nonsense, it's theoretical."
     "Theoretical. And this "theory" can kill me?"
     "That's only a possibility! It will not happen!"
     Tapping her fingers on the armrest of the throne, the queen sat pondering about the possible future that may be affected by the outcome of this experiment. "What must I do?"

     Hours later, outside the palace, Shalkir lurked in his usual trodden-down hiding place, dressed in a black outfit with a sword hanging at his side, rope in hand. Behind the bushes, he went through his scheme in his mind, making sure that this time it was foolproof. Nothing could stop him this time. With a sly movement, Shalkir shifted behind the bushes, preparing his feet for the complicated work they were up for. He snuck over the entrance gate, careful not to land too heavily on the ground so as to not give away his presence. He looked around, confirming he was alone, then, without a sound, he krept through the empty space in front of the desert palace. Shalkir threw one end of the rope up to the roof of the palace placed above the throne room. Steadily, he made sure the rope was cought between two pikes of the outer rim on the ceiling. After pulling his weight up the wall, Shalkir stood upright on the ceiling and coiled up his rope, swinging it around his shoulder.
     "Now, where is that thing?"
     He looked around for the object of his inquiration. He smiled to himself as he found his old trap door to the Queen's bed chambers. He lifted the wooden plank that hid his secret entrance and skillfully led himself down the hole. Once in the bed chambers, he crept around the familiar surrounding; a fairly good-sized room filled wih silks draped across the cushioned seats. The large, expensive bed was covered with the finest silk-embroidered sheets made available. The curtains hung in front of the wide windows hung without falter. Shalkir sneeked toward the lump in the bed, shifting his rope from his shoulder to his hands, preparing the kidnap. At the foot of the bed, he moved around to the side, slowly pulled down the sheets, and--
     "Looking for me?" a female voice startled him as he realized the lump in the bed was in fact only pillows formed into the shape of the Queen's body. Shalkir spun around to see the Queen standing there in the doorway to her own room, fully dressed and omitting a strange aura of confidence that he has never seen in her before.
     From the outside of the palace, the guards and people who were still awake stopped in their tracks and gasped as they witnessed a strange, bright purple light streaming through the windows, penetrating its way into the sky.