(Prologue of Y1 of the Requiem at Twilight series)
(Prologue of Y1 of the Requiem at Twilight series)
It was nearing the end of winter. The ground, while free of snow, was frozen solid. The night, while clear of clouds, was bitter cold. The open space in which they met was quiet, not a single living creature within the domain, not a single light save for the bright moon in the sky and the diamond studs of stars. The wind blew all around them, a constant, chilly friend that embraced, hugged but did not warm. They pulled their hoods lower, clutched their cloaks tighter, all in an attempt to ignore the surrounding chill all for the sake of meeting one another.
There were three in total all dressed in robes of darkest night. While varying in appearance, nothing, save for their height and breadth of their shoulders, was revealed due to their black robes that billowed about them. Meeting in a clearing, its oblong shape surrounded by tall, wooden structures, they were given cover from sight by anyone from without.
“Perhaps we’re wrong? The world is changing, after all,” the first said, the one most distinguishable between them all by the difference in his bulkier silhouette.
“The world isn’t changing; Asia is changing… Korea is changing,” the second replied, his arms crossed loosely about his torso whether from huddling from the cold or being defiant, neither of the other two knew.
“We knew it was happening, surely the Ministry would have, too,” the third stated,
“They did,” the second confirmed, “They just didn’t care enough to do anything about it. If anything, they happily helped it along.”
“And the people?” The third prompted,
“The people will do nothing even if they find out,” the first sighed heavily, “People are relying less and less on magic. Their belief of it has not changed, but their belief in it has.”
“They’re relying more on science and technology, turning their backs on the old ways,” the second sneered, “Little do they understand that it’ll bring about their end.”
“It’s not just Korea, you said that all of Asia is like this,” the third commented, “Does that mean the situation might not be contained just on our peninsula?”
“The situation? More like the attack,” the second scoffed. He paused before adding solemnly, “When it comes – and I say when, not if – it will affect all of Asia.”
“That big of a scale?” The first gasped,
“Yes,” the second answered, “And, if nothing is done, it will be a reckoning the world has never seen before.”
“Even compared to the Second Wizarding War in Europe?” The first questioned,
“Quite possibly,” the second said quietly; “It will be not just the conquering of an entire continent… no… it will be the upheaval, ruination and destruction of all of Asia’s muggle and magical communities.”
“They might blame it on North Korea,” the third murmured,
“In the beginning, certainly, but they’ll soon realize that they’re not to blame. Indeed, the Asian continent will, probably, finally understand what is happening and that they cannot do anything to stop it, especially since they’ve given up on using magic,” the second explained,
“And, when the people finally turn back to magic? Will it be too late?” The first asked,
“Quite possibly,” the second answered simply, “Things are already underway and South Korea has stopped using magic as protection years ago, relying only on technology and military strength. When they realize magic will save them, well… think how few people will even know how to use their damn magic.”
“Asadal University is the only school left in all of Korea that teaches magic,” the third conceded, “And apparently admission is declining each year.”
“We’ll be left practically defenseless when the attack begins,” the first concluded.
The trio fell into silence, only emphasized by the sudden howling of the icy wind. None knew how long they stood quietly. The future loomed before them like bright dreams slowly consumed by darkness, like a white sheet of paper after an ink pot had toppled over, inky fingers stretching, bleeding until there was nothing but a black void.
"The students will be arriving at Asadal in the morning," the third reminded softly, "There are rumours that the school's headmaster is expecting a special student tomorrow,"
"Special? What kind of special?" The first inquired,
The second and third men glanced at one another, the whites of their eyes barely visible from beneath their hoods, but just a look was enough to convey their thoughts. One had asked a question and the other had answered it, all in the span of half a heartbeat and in the silence of a bare meeting of the eyes.
"There are some things I cannot reveal," the second finally said, turning to leave their meeting place. He took a step before pausing. His voice was soft but clear, "But I... we are hoping that this student will be the catalyst we've all been waiting for."
The first and third man watched as the second slowly walked away, slowly disappearing from sight as his robes melted into the shadows.
"Everything we just talked about... will it really happen?" The first asked quietly, tentatively.
"It's looking more definite as each day passes and the people won't be able to do anything as they continue to walk away from their magic," the third replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
The first sighed heavily, raising a hand to frustratingly rub his head through the hood of his robes.
The thrid clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly, comfortingly, "Let's go. After all, tomorrow is a school day."
The third hesitated for a moment before turning and following him out of their meeting place: the Quidditch Pitch.