Ebany, Irane and the Grey Man (working title)

**This is in the process of becoming a long (hopefully) novel1

Chapter One 2

Shadows moved, passing into the light of the window, eclipsing the midday sun. Tall and refined, the shadowed figure pulled back a door, casting the already made shadows into a slowly impending darkness. He stepped out into the hall, his shoes hitting the textured marble with resonating clicks. 3

A middle-aged man of about 40, he still had a hint of naiveté, despite the cane that was always at his side, an old model with a silver head in the shape of an eagle.  4

His father had made his own money and suddenly died, leaving a windfall. And that was how this man could walk on expensive textured marble. That was why his servants talked behind his back. His money became so great that it did not need to be under lock and key. He would dish it out in barrels full.5

In soft grey pants and shirt he marched proudly through his city gates, he used to say that to make an appearance in ones own fiefdom was an act of true nobility. Although it was hardly his anymore, considering the publics growing dislike for his ways. 6

And then there was that musician boy who kept appearing in the city, yes, come to think of it, they seemed to like him much better. 7

. . . 8

A woman peered out of a window, her long black hair streaming out around her. Someday she would cut it short, but that day was long to come. She was watching the children play outside and smiling as they ran about. She wished that she could go out and watch them as their own mothers were doing, but she was stuck inside.  9

She was brought back to her senses as the rain pelted down harder, pouring down the glass. The children ran inside as the clouds moved, blocking all sun from shining light on their ball game. As she came back to the world around her she heard something, almost like a pop, as if the lighting had hit something. The rain was growing harder and harder. She loved rain more than anything but did not like the damp, humid weather it suggested. As it beat on the tin roof she wondered if she would dare to skip her duties to go outside to see what was angering the gods so. 10

Like always, she was eager to escape her portion of classes and useless lessons, but today something special was happening and she could not afford to miss it. The masters and mistresses of each subject would be handing out the evaluations and if she was late she would lose even more points for her continuous tardiness. And on top of that all the other girls would laugh at her if she came in soaking, not that she really cared about what any of them thought. 11

So her decision remained, she would be going out to see what all of the trouble was, despite the thunder and lighting and the implied punishment when she returned to the practice rooms. 12

Ebany rose from her seat at the window and moved cautiously towards the door. Everyone else was practicing their spells and defensive techniques for the upcoming tournaments in May. She, of course, would be competing in the second division out of the twelve available. It was expected really, she had been in this particular tournament for several years, the second being the Division of Offensive Spells Level Two. Ever year there were six divisions, each with two levels. Ebany would be in the harder of the two, even though she is only in third year.  13

As she crept towards the door, an unusually bright stream of lighting appeared in the sky, followed by another popping sound, this time much, much louder. 14

Okay, that must be my cue to stop walking.15

At this she raced for the door, ignoring her too loud feet pounding on the wooden floorboards. She knew that someone had to see her, but by that time it would be too late. Ebany pushed her weight against the warped door managing to open it enough to slip out into the damp.16

Outside was almost totally deserted, save a few people coming home from a day of work at the     17