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Seven

By Molly R. Miller All Rights Reserved ©

Action / Fantasy

Prologue

Sigmir waited in the dark and damp room for Dahlig to return. He rubbed his hands together and smiled to himself. Although he was close to death, he was not sad. In fact, he was anxious for his descent into the earth. It was hard for one man to do seven jobs all by himself for eighty years. Qasan had been foolish to give all these powers to one mortal man. Sigmir was determined not to make the same mistake. The old creaky door to the deserted apartment flung open and Dahlig came in, panting and wheezing like an old hag.

“Master Sigmir. Am I too late?” Dahlig whispered.

“Would I have responded if you were too late?” Sigmir said sarcastically.

“Sorry Master Sigmir.”

“Do you have the children?” Dahlig nodded. Ugly creatures named cahirs crawled into the room. Each one had a baby strapped to it's back. The cahirs gathered around Sigmir and stood up on their hind legs. Sigmir had never realized how tall they were. He was tempted to cower in fear. After all, these were creatures directly from Qasan's mind. Anything from Qasan was to be feared. I am from Qasan, Sigmir thought. I am to be feared.

“There are fourteen, Master. Seven boys, seven girls.” One by one, the cahirs came close to Sigmir, their backs facing him so he could inspect the young child.

“I want all the girls,” Sigmir commanded.

“No boys? Are you sure that's wise Master? Are you sure it's even wise to use children? They are not old enough to understand anything.” Dahlig asked.

“Do not question me, you who are not worthy!” Sigmir yelled. Dahlig shrunk away and Sigmir couldn't help but grin. Despite his old age, he still had the power to make man tremble in terror.

“Take the boys to the Junii.” The cahirs who carried the boys flew out of the room, leaving only seven. Dahlig pointed to the nearest cahir.

“Come here.” The cahir slithered across the floor and then stood back up, his back once again facing Sigmir. Sigmir unstrapped the baby girl and brought her to his chest. “Do you know what her name is?” The cahir opened his eyes wide, as if in surprise.

“He does not know, Master Sigmir,” Dahlig said.

“It does not matter much. I'm going to give her a new name anyway,” Sigmir replied. He examined the girl's face. She had light brown hair and brown eyes. “Her name will be Ireid.” Sigmir opened his mouth, releasing one of his seven powers. The baby opened her mouth and the smoke dived in, greedy for a more healthy master. Sigmir named the six other girls and distrubited his powers. One to each child.

“Take them to America,” Sigmir instructed the cahirs. Once they had all left, Sigmir motioned to Dahlig. Dahlig tiptoed over and Sigmir whispered directions in his ear. Dahlig's face went pale.

“Must I Master?” He whimpered.

“Do it or you will never see the light of day again!” Sigmir yelled. It took all his might to yell those twelve words. And then he was dead.

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