Chronicle III,
Rumours of War, Prologue



By William Black



"It is written that the servant is not greater than his Master, nor the student than his Teacher. But when the student is fully trained, then he'll be LIKE his teacher!" A hoarse laugh range out in the desert night. "And you, my young druid, are more like me then you want to admit, than you even imagine..." Morlyn stood over a stone cauldron, looking into the dark murky water that held the image of a man. The man apparently didn't realise he was being watched. He went about his business with purpose and undisturbed, talking urgently to those around him. They in turn paid close attention to his words, though no sound was heard. "Vanity of Vanities, all you do will be in vain... you are mine Druid. You've always been mine..." The old man turned and walked into the night chuckling to himself.
William Black ©


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