Moonlight spilled onto the scarlet and green, mosaic-tiled floor. A man sat in a leather chair, head resting on his fists. The bluish-white beams turned his loose black hair silver, and his pale skin paler.
            He sighed, lifting his brown eyes as a young boy, around eleven, with short, black hair and blazing orange eyes walked into the marble room, glancing nervously to the pillars surrounding the other seats.
            “Mr. Garretson,” the child fretted, “You know that the time has come.” He hesitated. “You know that they will be on the move, and that we need the one from your dream.”
            “Oh, Richie.” The man’s voice was hoarse from exhaustion. “What are you doing in here? I guess you’re right though.” He answered himself, “They may be planning something, and we don’t have enough new recruits.”
            His eyes wandered to the clear, glass ceiling to watch the slowly drifting clouds make their way across the crescent moon. “But I don’t think that we should bring him before he is ready.”
            “You must not underestimate his abilities,” Richie insisted.
            Mr. Garretson turned back to him, sorrow in his eyes. “Do you really believe that?” He stood, walking toward the door Richie had come in through. He stopped next to the boy. “You are right, but we still have to be delicate with our word choice. If he goes to the wrong side…”
            He led the way out of the room, Richie right behind him. Richie turned around, narrowing his eyes at the same spot in the sky as Mr. Garretson had watched, before following out with a defeated look on his face.
            But Mr. Garretson couldn’t leave completely, and the chants whispered in his ear once again, clear but blurred, loud but silent, heated but cold:
            All can change the future
            Few can change the present
            None can change the past

            But one is like the few
            Though varies drastically
            And claims them as his own

            Now he must be one of them
            Now he must discover his powers

            Later will he change the world

            Mr. Garretson clasped his hands over his ears, though he knew that it was useless.
            “All right, I’ll try!”
            And as he spoke the words, the sunlight broke through.

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