Captivated: Prologue

His hands loosened around the young boy’s shoulders—the white of his eyes reflecting the fear which had now settled like a rock in his stomach. The young boy, surprised and trembling, stumbled back.
“What did you say, boy?” the voice was cold and condescending—like jagged edges of ice that pierced the boy’s mind.
“Y-you’ll rule…b-but you’ll be stopped,” the young boy stammered, gulping back the tears.
“By who?” those two words bounced off the damp, cave walls, fading away into the darkness. The young boy wished that he could fade away—disappear from the sight of this tyrant.
“I don’t know!” tears burned at his eyes. He felt so weak. Why did he have to be so cursed? Why could he not have had one of the more common powers like the other people of the village? The whole world seemed to be against him.
“Don’t lie to me.”
He could not even make eye contact with the beast—for there is no other word to describe such a man—before him. The boy took only two steps back until he felt the coldness of the cave wall through the thin fabric of his shirt. He shuddered, terrified as he realized that there was no possible escape route. It was too late now; he had said too much.
“Tell me!” the voice roared, a hand lifted up threateningly. Fire dancing in those glaring eyes. What  Amitola had ever seen in this man, the boy wondered, was beyond him.
Choking back on the words, the boy sobbed for he could not control the tears any longer. “The four chosen ones will see to your downfall,” the words seemed powerless, though, as the young boy fell to his knees, hiding his face in the palm of his dirty hands. He awaited darkness to fall upon him—it never did.
Loko’ino had disappeared from the cave when the boy finally had the courage to look up, long after the tears had dried, staining his cheeks. Outside the sun was shining, but the boy knew it would not be that way for long, and it was all of his fault.