Prologue
Odera knew something was wrong when she opened Nikolaus Heilmeier’s book, dated for 1922-1945. Odera knew it when the final thirty pages were filled with those of a young man in his twenties, the final photo of him standing next to an ATM, wide-eyed and excited. Odera knew this was wrong, as the first ATM had not been created until 1969, yet his death was stated in 1945. And most assuredly, Odera knew something was wrong when she noticed that Nikolaus Heilmeier was supposed to have died in the closing of the Mauthausen Concentration Camp, which closed in May of 1945.
Clutching the book to her chest, Odera rushed through the hall of the Library of Alexandria until arriving at the study of Marcus Augustus--the current Head Librarian. Knocking swiftly, Odera entered the lavish study to find Marcus sitting behind his desk, a scroll of papyrus open and his reading glasses perched precariously on his nose. Noticing her state, Marcus removed his glasses, set them on a small cloth on the upper corner of his desk, and folded his hands, waiting. She cleared her throat, and stared at his hands, before stepping forward and placing the book at the center of his desk. Marcus quirked an eyebrow before he opened the book, and silently flipped through the photographs, skimming over the descriptive paragraphs, until finally he looked at Odera with a question in his eyes.
“His death, sir.”
Marcus flipped to the back cover of the book, where it read:
Nikolaus Heilmeier
Born September 29, 1922
Died at Mauthausen Labor Camp
January 11, 1945
Gunshot wound, Camp liberation
Marcus then opened the book again to the final photo, and studied the ATM in the background. His face twitched in confusion and frustration, as Odera rocked slowly back and forth onto her heels--a nervous habit.
“Nineteen sixty-nine, yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you’re sure this photo is the same man?”
“Yes, sir.”
Marcus flipped to the center of the book, where a man stood against a high stone wall, a pristine uniform on his body, Nazi armband on his left bicep, and a large gun strapped across his back. Though a hat sat low on his face, it was apparent that this was Nikolaus in his early twenties.
“The rumors are true then. Contact the Synod, Odera. Tell them we found the first.”
“Sir? I don’t understand.”
Marcus picked up his glasses and placed them on his nose, once again, and carefully closed The Life of Nikolaus Heilmeier: 1922-1945, Complete, before he spoke again.
“It means, Odera, that someone is aiding the humans in eluding our Assistants.”
Hey guys, this is the prologue from my book I just finished titled, HEGIRA. I'm sharing this little snippet and if anybody is interested in representing it or in my characters or anything I'd love to talk about it! The book is about 60k words and meant as a Young Adult Modern Realizm Fantasy. It's the first book in a trilogy and by the end of this week my query letters are gonna head out. Thank you for any support in this series! I'm so proud of it!
