Love's Power

Love's Power

Prologue

Love... is a very powerful thing... It can keep a man going even if he has already reached his breaking point, it can spark the brightest of intentions in the darkest of sit-uations, and it can fuel rage and war...
Our story is about a young man that thought he had everything, but lost it all in one single life changing hour. We start our tale with our friend is happily at his home, en-joying the freedom he has just reacquired.
Sinclair is the name of the young man whose life is about to change. He has raven hair that goes halfway down his back, though he keeps it in a lose ponytail. Like any self respecting man of the Middle Class, he often wears a white linen shirt, loose fitting dark pants and a long coat.

Sinclair grinned over the top of his wine glass at his beautiful blonde wife. As always, being indoors he lacked his coat; it was currently on the rack beside the door. They lived in a fairly large house, two stories, 15 room, in a nice neighborhood.
“I missed you so much, my wife,” Sinclair said, taking a sip of the wine and setting down his glass.
Pandora smiled, looking down as a blush grew on her face. She nestled down beside her love.
“I missed you too, Sinclair. You were only gone two years but it felt like an eternity.” she said, putting her hand over his.
“I know, I am ju-“ he was cut off by a yell uttered by someone outside the house. He immediately leapt to his feet, recognizing that yell from the two years he had spent in battle. He reached instinctively for his sword but it wasn’t there. He cursed, turning to his bewildered wife.
“Hurry! Take-“ The sound of breaking glass; an arrow just hit the window, “Take the maids; out the back door, run!” he said, already turning and heading for the closet that contained his weapons.
“But! Sinclair!” Pandora protested, gathering her skirts in her hands.
“No ‘buts’!” Sinclair said. As soon as he strapped on his sheath and quiver he turned and cupped Pandora’s face in his hands. “Please Panda,” he said, using his pet name for her, “Go I’ll be alright, if survived two years of this, I think I can survive this, just go, and be quick.”
Pandora bit her lip, but gave him a quick kiss and hurried to the kitchen for the maid.
“I love you!” Sinclair called after her, turning towards the door but ducking as an-other arrow tore into the house. This time, the arrow was blazing. Sinclair let out a furious bellow, running towards the door and yanking it open. He ran out into the street to discover other houses were already ablaze. Horses ran wild and women screamed, but through all the chaos he noticed something. He had fallen into a trap.
A heavy net was thrown over him and he whipped his sword out to slash at it but he got tangled quite quickly.
“NO!” he roared, watching helplessly as a row of ten archers fired more flaming arrows at his house. Inside, a woman screamed.
“PANDORA!” Sinclair bellowed the name of his love, struggling wildly with the net even as tears pricked at his eyes. Somehow, he managed to struggle free but before he could mount the stairs to his burning house a hand grabbed him from behind.
“Get off of me!” he spat, whipping around and slashing blindly. The man he struck uttered a yelp, leaping back and holding his arm. Sinclair hardly recognized his longtime friend and went to go towards the house again. He yanked the door open and was met by a wave of heat. Why was everything burning so quickly? Nevermind that, where was Pandora?
A woman screamed from the kitchen and Sinclair darted towards the door, making to yank it open but burning his hand. He stood back, looking around franticly, then raising his foot and kicking the door in, exposing the already raging inferno.
“Pandora!” Sinclair called again. Pandora and their maid were huddled in a corner, even as the fire roared louder. He was about to leap into the room but strong arms grabbed him from behind, dragging him back towards the door.
“No! Let me go!” he yelled, struggling vainly, “PANDORA!”
More arrows were shot at the house, over the heads of Sinclair and the man holding him, sending more flames roaring through the building’s frame. Sinclair could only watch helplessly as the ravenous blaze gradually engulfed his house, as it was doing to many others. He slowly sank to the ground, crying incoherently as his withholder slowly re-leased him.
With an ominous creak, the house shuddered on its now unstable beams. There was a loud crack and part of the house caved in, making a small explosion of the flames. Other houses were coming to similar ends and the streets bore witness to what was left of the distressed families as the flame wielding archers moved on deeper into the city.