.:Bright Eyes:. Prologe.

     Kyr Bright-Eyes, the Trickster, was not, on the whole, an evil god.  He was mischievous, flighty, fairly selfish, and at time, decidedly untrustworthy.
But not evil, no more then Lady was evil, for all that she ushered souls into the next life. 
 
     For he was also intelligent, keen, clever, inspired, and always quick on the uptake, while being loyal to those he thought worthy of it, and he never tried to hurt for the sake of hurting, deeming it far beneath him.

     He had his following of the most unlikely people through out the Seven Worlds.  The most numerous, thieves, liars, con men, were those who used their wits above all other skills to survive.  But there were those who lived normal lives that had also heard his call.  
 
     They were playful, quick to anger or make laugh, and danced at a carefully constructed border of light and dark.   

     They trusted few but themselves, and were the misfits and odd ones, with a curiosity that often got them in trouble.  Must like a child, there was wonder at everything, and love to find out what that button did, often with destructive consequences that they always found a way to tidy up, much as their god did.

     But not everyone saw these gray ones as such innocent people, and not all saw the Trickster's white side.  However, they also saw all the Old Ones as threats, old, burned out lights that should be replaced with newer, fancier shines.  They had found a New God, and his whispers of madness soon sought to end the known worlds, and replace them with his power.  A power that was sickeningly sweet, like rotten fruit.

---

     Fog was every where.  It was a common annoyance in the small town, as they were right on the edge of a large, cold lake fed by melted snow from the nearby mountains, and every resident was used to opening the door in the early morning only to have their view of the nearest neighbor obscured and the sound of their breath seeming very loud in their ears.  As the mountains were high in the western sky, it usually took until nearly noon for the last shreds to dissipate.

     So it was alone and in silence that a hooded figure stopped outside a particularly pretty house, all dark brown wood and shining bronze.  It stood, head tilted upwards an open window, in which a young voice could be heard trying to comfort a wailing baby, whose pitch and volume sounded like she had settled down to go all morning.  The stranger's thin lipped mouth curved up into a cheerful grin, and thin, nimble fingers flashed in a quick wave towards the window.  

     "Found you..."  A light male voice issued from the hood, all bright and cheerful.  "A soul like yours can't hide from me forever."  

     Inside, the child's crying had stopped suddenly with the first words, and a broad, toothless grin spread over her chubby face.  

     "You're going to be special, kid-o," the man whispered, watching as the mother move in sight of the window to lay the baby down.  "So my sister says, and she seldom lies..."  There was a flash of glowing eyes from under the hood as he turned away.  The mother's head snapped up, but he had already vanished into the mist.

     A sense of unease past over the woman in the window, and instinctively, she pushed it roughly shut, missing the momentary glow from her baby's purple eyes.