The Six Year Solstice: The Lost Stones

Prologue

The office was silent and dim, with only a small sliver of moonlight peeking out from a single arching window, the only sound that could be picked up was the soft, constant tapping from a worn typewriter. The letters marked on the keys were faded to almost nothing but a silver circle plate, the ink compartment was doused in oily black sludge, in dire need for a clean. But all the flaws of his machine didn't stop him from typing, the man himself was in ragged condition, he had huge bags under his eyes and coffee stains on his white shirt and red tie, he scanned the letters with sleepless, bloodshot eyes, studying them immensely.

After he completed the second page, he re-read the entirety of them, too drained to realised was speaking out loud.

'The Jade was flashing again, the tremendous light was almost too blinding to look at, although, I would be more concerned if this hadn't been already happening for weeks now, but I' am still concerned about the fact that now my son has that demonic stone around his neck. I try to take it off of him but he refuses, sometimes getting aggressive and extremely protective over it. Me and my wife have both noticed changes in his personality, he has major mood swings, he could go from laughing his head off to tears, he's only four years old, and I already caught him trying to pry open the Alcohol cupboard. His immune system has weakened drastically aswell, he's been getting quite ill lately, his sicknesses range from a common cold to Typhus or A headache to a celebral hemorrhage.

He gingerly flipped to the next page:

'I've been searching through every book and every source I have to try and find anything that might help him, his mother is worried sick and so am I. I made a grave mistake giving him that... Thing. Now I need to find a way to save him. The only person I can think of that might be able to help me is my Grandfather; Prussia. But he died before Germany was born. My father might know, but I'd rather not disturb him at the moment.
Honestly, almost everyone who has ever cared about me is either dead or in a critical condition and in the grasp of death. I have no idea on what to do, so please, if you find anything that might relate to this, or you have see this type of thing happen before, let me know.

The man sighed and muttered inaudible words under his breath, he tapped the two pieces of paper on his wooden desk, straightening them out then placing them next to his typewriter.
He rose from his chair and reached his arms up into the sky, rubbing weary his eyes red. He stared up at the hollow wooden clock he had hanging on one of his walls.

2:56am

He took a deep breath, he hadn't slept in almost a week, and every part of him was aching. He closed the blinds on his lonely window then flipped off the tarnished light and wandered down the stairs and into the eerily silent hallways. Although he was alone, he felt an unearthly presence, something was lingering, it was waiting...

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