He gazed at the old man, his heart pounding. Was this his fate coming up to meet him?
Beneath the old man’s wrinkled, weather-beaten olive skin and thick furrowed snowy eyebrows, he glimpsed small twinkling eyes. Despite the crazy white hair and thin cheesecloth draped over his lithe body, the old man evoked a sense of awe. As if he were a superior being, an omnipresent force to be reckoned with.
“Is this the boy?” a haunting voice resonated, carried on the light breeze, weaving its way in and out of the branches of the strange red trees surrounding them. He whipped his head around abruptly, wondering who had spoken. The old man was still, he could’ve been a statue carved out of marble, and the flames continued flickering in the centre of the clearing, shooting orange and red sparks onto the ground every now and then. “The girl?” the voice continued. His mouth opened and his mind raced wildly, what have they done with her? A glistening bead of sweat slipped from his forehead into his eye, stinging it.
Knowledge dawned upon him. They knew! They must know the Secret!
They were the legendary People. The Destroyers. The Haunted.