The night was humid and heavy, even the sounds of the city seeming subdued by the heat wave that held Chicago in its smothering grasp. Rain streamed down from the summer sky, creating clouds of steam when it struck the scorched pavement. In a run-down part of town, far from the lights of Navy Pier and the cultivated prestige of Soldier Field and the museum campus, a lone figure walked through the rain.

Her comely figure indicated youth, though her features were concealed within the large hood of her coat. Long locks of silvery-blonde hair escaped the hood and hung down over her shoulders, nearly to her waist. Her movements were erratic, as if she were drunken or sick. She hummed a tune under her breath as her meandering steps carried her down a narrow alley. The notes of Chopin’s Funeral March resonated in the filthy shelter, frightening rats from their pursuits and sending them scattering before the woman.

As she approached the end of the alley, the humming turned to singing, words that Chopin had certainly never penned.


"Wake, all ye dead.
Wake, sacred dead.
Wake in his name and
The dead shall live again.

Wake, all ye dead.
Wake, sacred dead.
Wake in his name and
We shall ascend again."

_________________
"We are not bound forever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory."

The smells of sweetness and decay, like honey and death, forever clung to the man.

Shrouded in dark robes, the heavy cowl drawn low to reveal only the lower half of his face, he sat in near darkness in a chamber of stone. Near him stood the woman, her hand on his shoulder and her pale hair cascading over his robes and hers alike as she whispered to him.

"He is in place, and soon our recruits will go to the arena."


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Across the world, Pyke Grenfell sat behind the teacher's desk in the Ancient Runes classroom at Hogwarts. Curfew neared, the last student had gone. He picked up a sheaf of parchment pages, leafing through them and studying the rune constructions on each. Beneath the desk, his foot nudged the box of swords that would soon be adorned by the runes. He sighed deeply, lines of worry forming between his eyes.

It will never be enough.

_________________
"We are not bound forever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory."

They stood at a crossroads, in a place of stone and lifeless trees; the man who smelled of death and the American.

"When the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, "Come and see!" Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make men slay each other. To him was given a large sword." Spoke the first, reaching up to place his hands on either side of the American's head.

Grenfell remained silent, the apocalyptic sunset throwing his face into red shadow as the other man continued.

"Soon Heaven will be silent."

_________________
"We are not bound forever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory."

_________________
"We are not bound forever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory."