Chapter 0: Introduction

Jakob started to dream. Shadows coiled and whispered at the edge of his vision as an image faded into focus. A harsh yellow sand, a boundless beach, a desert entered his vision. Dreams like this had increased over the last week, dreams of people he had never met.

What did these dreams mean? Was he glimpsing the threads of fate, or was this just a dream? There was no way to check as to see if these dreams were real, as where Jakob lived, in Makanor, the north of Aliraz, was separated from the rest of Aliraz by a spine of tall, inhospitable ice capped mountains that seemed to sap the very life from ones bones. 

Watching as the desert glistened into focus, he saw a young woman flicker into view. The woman, dressed in white, tight fitting, robes that reminded Jakob of winter winds, walked with a confidence that Jakob had only seen in a few people. 

The woman's wrists wrapped in a circle, and Jakob watched in surprise as despite the unbearing heat, coalescing from the very air itself ice seemed to form.

Magic, thought Jakob, intrigued, this was new, he hadn't had a dream about magic. Immediately he was engaged and thrilled to be a part of this dream. The air shimmered with heat, but Jakob saw the protective shield of frost the woman had conjured, leaving her untouched by the scorching sun. The subtle scent of pine and the imagined whisper of snowfall reached him with a sense of familiarity reminding him of home. 

Ice magic flowed effortlessly from the females fingertips, a cascade of frost painting the desert. Jakob marvelled at her mastery, his eyes tracing the intricate patterns of her spells. Yet, despite her talent with magic, Jakob could see traces of frustration on her face as she struggled in the desert. 

I wonder what she's doing here, Jakob wondered as he noticed a set of distinctive tracks as clear to him as water was to a fish. This is Sabver territory, he realised, recalling a lesson from Ingolf, head of the hunters back home. 

"The sabver, a colossal creature of the desert, is a tricky adversary for any aspiring hunter." 

Is she hunting it? Jakob thought, brought back to reality as the young woman finally noticed the tracks. He thought with a duality of horror and admiration. As Ingolfs voice rang with an echo in Jakobs ears. 

"Picture it as a living castle beneath the dunes. Its hide is tough, like trying to cut through a tree with a rusted axe. Now, every beast has its weak spots, and this one's no different. Aim for the underbelly, that's like the soft part of a fruit. Throw a poisoned blade here and if you get the hell out of its way you might just live to tell your tale. But—and this is crucial—stay away from the head and tail. Those areas are heavily guarded. The head's got venomous fangs that can ruin your day, and the tail's got a swing that's worse than the first frost of the year. So, Jakob, remember: go for the soft spots, steer clear of the venomous bits, and you might just live to brag about facing a sandworm"

"Finally," The woman muttered under her breath. Her voice, cold but bleeding with a sense of superiority and power. As she delved into the art of tracking, Jakob sensed her frustration, feeling her invisible struggle against the ever-shifting dunes. Paths that were clear to Jakob, seemed to elude the woman as she struggled to keep a hold of the trail. However, this was nothing to be ashamed of, Jakob had to be skilled in tracking as the people of Makanor could not use magic to help them fight against the creatures that terrorised their towns. 

Intrigued by the unfolding scene, Jakob found himself feeling an attachment to the woman. As she followed the tracks, Jakob observed the subtle balance between her magical prowess and the challenges of the desert. The sand shifted like a living entity, erasing traces and leaving the woman to rely on her instincts and the occasional flicker of magic.

As they ventured deeper into the Sabver territory, Jakob couldn't shake off the feeling that this dream held a significance beyond the ordinary. Was he merely a spectator, or did his presence have a purpose? 

Wait, move, he pleaded, as he recognised the tracks, or... to be precise... the lack of them. 

Suddenly, just as Jakob thought, the ground trembled beneath their feet, and a colossal creature emerged from the sandy depths. The Sabver, a massive sandworm, towered over them, its scales shimmering like molten gold. The woman, undeterred, raised her hands, conjuring a barrier of ice to shield herself from the impending danger. 

The sandworm lunged forward, its venomous fangs snapping in the air. The girl. danced with grace, evading the deadly strikes while maintaining her icy defence. Jakob felt a surge of adrenaline, the line between dream and reality blurring as he cheered for the woman battling the formidable beast.

In the midst of the chaotic dance, she seized an opportunity. With precision, she directed a surge of frost toward the creature's underbelly, exploiting its vulnerable spot. The Sabver recoiled, its monstrous form writhing in pain.

​​As the woman wove her magic preparing another spell, Jakob saw the creature's counterattack—an unyielding fury met with the elegant evasion of a practised sorceress. The sand worm's tail struck, leaving a jagged scar on the womans cheek. Jakob winced at the imagined pain, the metallic tang of blood lingering in his senses.

The woman swore with annoyance, and disappointment as she raised her hand. "I need to get stronger," she said aloud as the sands started to shake. Vines erupted from the sand, binding the sandworm in a heartbeat.

What just happened, thought Jakob, did she summon the vines? Why does she need to get stronger? 

"I am too weak to fight the prophecy" she said, turning from the crushed sabver and heading further into the desert. 

The world shimmered like someone was shaking Jakob, and his dream started to fade into darkness, shadows reclaiming the typical blackness of slumber. I wish I could use magic like her, he thought as the darkness 

He wished, not for the first time, that he could use magic, feeling a yearning for the fantastical power that had unfolded in his dreams. And as he opened his eyes to the bleak reality of Makanor, the desire for magic lingered.