Wheel of Anime:  Book 2 – The Hunt Is On
Prologue:  An Evil Garden Party 

By John Biles

http://www.thekeep.org/~wombat/Stories/Jordan/


********
	
	The man who, in this company, called himself Fred 
(because if he had a choice, he would have been named 
Fred, but was he given a choice?  Nooooo, he wasn't.  
Stupid parents, stupid naming customs, did they think about 
how many jokes he'd have to put up with?  Of course not.), 
pulled his hood up a little bit tighter and adjusted his green 
mask.  Dozens of people circulated through the pleasant 
green garden, just as if this was some nobleman's garden 
party. 

	In a manner of speaking, it was, for there were none 
more noble than the Chosen, the Thirteen who had been 
bound into the Bore with the Great Lord of the Dark for 
three thousand years.  They were set above all others.  He 
was not sure, however, which of them was throwing this 
party.  The one who had summoned him, summoned them 
all, answered to the name of Sch'neider, but that was the 
one of the Great Lord's own names.  If the Great Lord was 
this free already, surely they would have seen his touch 
more strongly on the world.

	Fred was not a religious man, despite his affiliations.  
He was simply a man who knew which way the wind blew 
and how to gain power.  That was what he wanted, above 
all other things.  Some of those around him were true 
believers.  Others, like him, simply followed their own best 
interest.  And some were probably gullible idiots who had 
gotten in way over their heads.

	But for now, they were all equals, in theory, and those 
among them who were wise concealed their identities as 
best they could.  This made it hard to tell who had 
disguised themselves and who had not.  He glanced at a 
dark-haired woman in a long black dress in the style of 
Andor.  A cunning disguise, except that she had forgotten 
to take off her marriage knife, which marked her as Ebou 
Dari.  Or was that a bluff?  She could easily have been, say, 
Arafellin, instead.

	People from every nation milled about, sipping tea and 
trading pleasantries while they waited for their master to 
arrive.  A Tinker was chatting merrily with an Illuminator 
about how best to blow things up with fireworks.  An 
Andoran noblewoman traded poisoning tips with a beggar.  
Two people who had chosen the exact same disguise as a 
SubNazi (badly done, he could tell, as they'd forgotten to 
put the sunburst or the maple leaf on it) bantered with each 
other, apparently trying to winkle out each other's identities 
while discussing Cairhienin politics.  Two Borderlanders, 
one with the distinctive hairstyle of Kandor, the other a 
pale-haired man wearing Shienarian livery, argued over the 
events of the battle at Fallintothe Gap and what it could 
mean; the Kandorian could not even believe it was real.  
The pale-haired man said something about the Eye of God 
which Fred couldn't quite make out.  

	He kept his own mouth shut, knowing he had a 
distinctive accent and how hard it was to overcome the 
Illianer way of speech.  There was much to be gleaned, just 
from listening.

	A whisper ran through the crowd, and he turned his 
head to look.  A tall man with long red hair had arrived; he 
wore a golden fox mask, and was accompanied by a shorter 
woman with close cropped blue hair.  Both wore something 
which looked like a military uniform to Fred, but not one 
he recognized.  Curious, he thought.  I'll have to look this 
up.  Whispers followed in their wakes.

	And then Dark Sch'neider appeared in all his blond, 
barbaric glory.  Apparently, he'd left all his shirts in the 
Bore.  But with a highly muscular body like his, this wasn't 
so bad as it might have been.  His eyes burned with dark 
flame, his gaze transfixed all it touched.

	"Friends of the Dark!  The day of our triumph is 
coming.  The plans of three thousand years come to 
fruition!  Those who obey me will triumph and taste of 
immortality!  Those who disobey will be cast into the 
valley of garbage and BURNT!"  Flames from his hands 
consumed a nearby bush, destroying it in seconds.

	"The Tower thinks it can stop us; the Tower will fall.  
The SubNazis think they are free of us; we shall take them 
from within.  The nations think us a myth; we shall show 
them reality!  And three...three there are who think they 
shall defy us.  You will take them.  Two may be slain, the 
third is best taken alive, but you can slay him if you must." 

	He gestured and the air filled with the image of three 
men, a tall, thin blond and two muscular dark-haired men, 
all three of them on the cusp of transition to adulthood.  
"Remember them.  Slay the two and save the third."  The 
third one now glowed to mark him apart.  "Do this and you 
will be rewarded!  Fail me and YOU WILL PERISH!"

	Fred studied the three people, and wondered how such 
insignificant looking children could be a threat.

	"And, for each of you, I have other work as well," he 
said.  He began going to each of them, and staring into their 
eyes with his black flames.  Fred watched, seeing each 
person shudder as he gazed into their eyes.

	His own turn came.  The black flames drew him in and 
consumed him, burning and remaking him, searing images 
into his mind.  Blue-skinned men and women, a dignified 
man with white hair and blue skin, conspiring noblemen 
and women, a grim dark haired SubNazi and an old man in 
white listening to a fool, and...an underwear thief?  He felt 
a little confusion through his awe about the last one.  He 
would understand in time, he was sure.

	And then his turn passed.  He stood and sipped tea and 
tried to put it all together in his head, until each and every 
person had gazed into Sch'neider's eyes.  And then 
Sch'neider dismissed them, though he noticed a few were 
invited to linger, like the tall, regal redhead and his blue-
haired companion.  

	He was not, and so he walked towards the door by 
which he had entered, felt the world twist around him, and 
he walked into his quarters, where he quickly put away the 
Murandian merchant's garb which he had worn to the party.  
Stripping almost naked, he redressed himself, and put on a 
white cloak in the place of his red one, and picked up his 
staff.  

	There was much work to be done in the Citadel of the 
Light.