Ominous promises cast over the land like dark shadows, the prophet's prophecies. But did humanity want to hear? Did they let the people live who brought prophesy over the upheaval? Didn't they all die an excruciating death at the stake after being tortured for weeks or even months until they gave false testimony? Hadn't the human race been happy when they could have killed all those who did not correspond to the image of normal humanity?

Annoyed by the stubbornness of the people, the scholar hurried through the dark castle corridors. There was a smell of burned meat everywhere while the screams of the people in the hallways hold down. Terrible things were happening on the surface of the earth. Something so terrible that even the scholar became frightened. He had foreseen it just as well.

Almost every week his visions had kept coming back over the past few months. Lanson was alone in this corridor.The other priests, monks and novices had locked themselves in the chapel of the monastery and had been praying for hours. But it was useless, Lanson knew for sure. The old man had reached a considerable age by the standards of the late Middle Ages. Already in her early forties. Few were fortunate enough to reach that age. Even the bishops who lived in good houses and richly laid tables rarely reached thirty. But Lanson knew the secret of his life. He wasn't like the others. Just his appearance didn't look like that of a normal person.
Lanson was tall and had a broad chest that looked like a knight's. It made no difference whether the priest was in his purple robe or whether he was put on armor and put on his horse. He was made for both. Despite the darkness that had swept over the country and barely let a beam of light into the dark, damp corridors of the monastery, the priest saw perfectly.Every now and then Lanson ran past burning candles, the flames of which had not yet gone out. Every time the light touched his eyes, it glowed in the light and reflected it. Of course, the priest was not a normal person. He literally glided silently over the stone floor while his black robe flew after him. It was a black day for world history. The priest could not manage to wear a color other than that of death. Weren't they all doomed? Didn't it mean that nobody can escape the upheaval? Lanson stopped in front of a heavy old wooden door with an iron handle ´´ The monastery library ´´, he thought and sent a prayer to heaven before he entered this worthy room. A mixture of old parchment and oxygen of poor air flowed towards him. Lanson's searching gaze slid across the library. His eyes flashed when he found what he was looking for. In the middle of the room, between all the shelves, protruded a wooden lectern.The lectern was made of dark oak and had many intricate carvings. Only when looking closer did one recognize individual figures. The desk was only half the size of the priest, and yet the wooden frame exuded something powerful and sublime. He walked slowly to the center of the room. Lanson gazed at this one symbol of power in awe. His gaze slid from the base of the desk to the shelf. The individual carvings in the wood showed the course of one of the most important secrets on earth, but only a few knew about it and so it is no wonder that this power is abused by the imaginative and greedy people. Lanson was again overcome by disappointment and doubt. Disappointment because people do not want to learn and listen to understand the wonderful and powerful secrets. They are only interested in the power that they can acquire with their ability and go over corpses for that '' Or maybe because of that?Shouldn't I change the course of events after all? ´´. Doubts overcame Lanson and so the priest no longer knew whether he and his fellow councilors might be doing something wrong. The council has always been the controlling body of the world and a means of communication between the different peoples, but what if they are wrong this one time? What if it is to happen as nature intended, that the mystery finally disappears from the world. The priest raised his arm and carefully placed his hand on the book. The book on the lectern was the same color as the lectern and its cover was the same texture with one exception. The carving on this book showed the end of the story that was carved into the lectern. Only with the book together could one decipher the riddle and discover the secret of the earth. But the earth does not mean the world, but the element. While the earth may be one of the weakest elements, its power is enough to reshape the land.Lanson didn't know what to do. Should he keep the promise to his brothers or should he let nature decide. If he chose the latter, these secrets would no longer exist in the future and the world would be empty and without magic. But people would no longer be able to cause so much damage. ´´But then what about the legend and the 7 legendary warriors? ´´. The priest was at a loss. Not only did his time fly away, he was also not allowed to be discovered. He could only hope that the monks and priests would stay in their house of faith to pray to God. Nobody was allowed to see him here, because then he would no longer be able to keep the ritual. To remove his doubts, he opened the book with the greatest care. Almost tenderly, he ran his fingertips over the old parchment, as if he could feel the power that was written on these pages. Suddenly all doubts were gone.His eyes only looked at the prophecy of the legendary warrior of the earth, one of the legendary seven. Footsteps suddenly sounded from outside, moving towards him at breakneck speed. The priest quickly closed the book and jerked his head to one side and looked at the door. He almost expected that one of the higher priests would discover him down here and that Lanson would no longer be able to carry out his plan ´´Me must not have been discovered. Otherwise the secret of the earth will no longer exist in the future. I have to activate the magic before the break occurs. ´´. Although he was nervous inside, he didn't let the outside show. Maybe he would still be able to save something like this. The door opened slowly and a large dark shadow fell over the library. Lanson exhaled in relief when he saw his companion come inside. A noble steed with hazel fur strode through the door and stopped just a few paces from Lanson.The stallion was considerably larger than the normal horse and his movements were more graceful than those of a thoroughbred. Sharad, that was the name of the noble steed, looked at Lanson with his dark eyes, "Hurry man!" Time goes by quickly and the priests will soon find that there is no point in praying to heaven. ´´. The priest looked uncertainly from his companion to the book. Just now he was sure that this is the right way, that the magic should also exist in the future. But are people ready for it? "Lanson", the noble stallion admonished his human, "You have to do your job. They told you to do it because they trust you. If you disappoint them, you also disappoint your own people. Forget people, they were and always will be weak. But you and your people could use that magic to do the right thing. You know that too, why do you still have doubts? ´´. The monk thought for a moment before answering his companion, “Since I was born in my home village, grew up and made all the trips, I have always had this one wish.That people learn to appreciate magic and not to abuse it. No matter where I was, long came, or just stood. I have always seen people use magic to their advantage and to the detriment of nature. They weren't using it, they were abusing the magic. I want this to stop at last. If people could only use the magic normally, I wouldn't hesitate for a second. But what if the generations after us are not ready either? What if a generation is never ready to hold such power in their hands? ´´. The monk sounded tired when he answered, as if what he had already seen and experienced had cost him all of his life energy. Suddenly the monk looked much older than before. His face was pale and there were dark shadows under his eyes. The sound of hoofs stamped on stone was the only thing that broke the silence in the library. Sharad, Lanson's loyal companion, approached the monk and stopped right next to his people.Almost tenderly, the stallion touched his cheek with his nostrils, “Whether humanity will ever be ready cannot be interpreted in the stars. No one can say it, not even the most holy of your saints know. Do what you think is right human ´´. After these words, which Sharad had uttered so calmly, as if time wasn't running, he stepped out of the circle again and looked intently at his person. Taking a deep breath, Lanson had briefly closed his eyes and once more let the words of his companion echo in his mind. Whether it is right or not, who could say that? Anyway, who can give a definition of right and wrong? Isn't it even the bad guys, when they win a fight, who consider themselves the good guys? It is always the losers who are seen as bad and wrong. Lanson threw away his own worries and opened the book again. His own fears and experiences should not prevent him from keeping the world's greatest gift in the future.The magic. The monk knew the saying for this ceremony by heart and so he did not have to learn the verses by heart. As he recited the verses in his native language, Lanson paced around the lectern. Something lit up on the gray stone floor. First fine and soon coarse, easily recognizable lines that were intertwined, formed the symbol of the magic earth. In the middle of this sign was the desk. The sign glowed a warm, earthy brown. Now Lanson knew that there was no going back and he didn't want to go back either. With a pen from the primeval tree, the monk drew a large pentagram over the symbol, which was in the same color as the symbol of magic. Lanson set a candle at each tip of the pentagram