
Tell us, Nandor, what is your ultimate goal?
To rule the land of Oren, starting with the province of Antire.
I see. And what do you see as your greatest obstacle?
The Elementals are nothing. They have but a fraction of my power, yet the one girl has the potential to ... no! She'll never succeed.
I admire your optimism. Now, help us understand who you are. Pick an historical figure and compare yourself to him or her– how are you alike and different?
I am far more skilled than the Naturals, or even Those-Who-Came-Before. I know my power and how to wield it, and will not hesitate to do so.
Okay - how about this? Name a song that would be played in the soundtrack of your life.
There are no existing songs that match my greatness. Singers shall spend generations trying to find words to match my mighty deeds.
Well - maybe we'd better read the book. Here's more about Imagine:
When Becky woke, the scene around her had not changed.
Woozy, she staggered to her feet and launched forward out of sheer will. Hoping to ease her thirst, she stumbled to a well in her sight. Unfortunately, the top half had been lopped off, and she couldn’t find a bucket to draw water.
With tears filling her eyes, she croaked, “Help!”
None came.
Tough her first instinct was to slouch where she was and give in to sorrow, she fought off the impulse. Though she was in bad shape, Kat was worse. Unconscious and beyond the barriers of the castle, there was a slim chance that someone would discover her there. If Becky could not find assistance, they would both die.
So she forced her feet into motion, passing upended wheelbarrows, a torn flag floating in mud, and a dead horse rotting within a swarm of insects. A horrible omen hung in the air, causing her to shiver. She ventured further forward, dreading what each step might reveal.
Anguished cries reached her ears. The smell of smoke crept into her lungs.
Two towering men, both wearing soiled clothes and brandishing long lengths of cloth, knocked her aside in their haste. Not knowing what else to do, she followed them until she saw a large building caught ablaze and burning with an incredible ferocity. One man, somewhat short but muscular, stood at the front hollering commands to anyone within earshot.
“Get back!” he called to stray children.
To available workers, male or female, he passed out shovels and blankets. From a far-off well, he organized a line of people who could pass water with buckets, jugs, or other containers. On the side, people struggled to beat at the heavy flames or shovel dirt into its path. The fire grew more powerful with each moment.
When the sting in her eyes got too intense to bear, Becky backed away. She continued to stumble along, each sight startling. A woman with a baby cradled in rags called out someone’s name. Lost children shouted for their mothers. The injured roamed about seeking bandages.
Overwhelmed, Becky sank to her knees.
What happened to cause such devastation?
Who could she approach for help, when all around her were in such a state?
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