o O o Prologue o O o

It started with the Elementals. There were four. Fire, earth, water and air. Ifrit, Kilrona, Sarjon and Miyanu. The four spirits now worshipped by the nomads in the golden deserts hidden in the furthest corners of the east. A mountain that reaches into the clouds holds their spirits in stones.

Only few were old enough to recall the dangerous route that led them to the tomb.

Those that held the knowledge had lived for so long because the history of their nations was myths turned secrets of old. They were wise because they knew better than to disturb that which could bring about not only their destruction, but of the rest of humanity.

For the tomb held not just four spirits, but a fifth. One that was more dangerous and more powerful than many forces of good.

They still have not forgotten what had happened when last they tried to wake these erstwhile spirits. When last the ancient rites were performed. The beheading of an innocent. The resurrection of a djinn. The release of evil and the rage of their Gods. The curse that was put upon four nations. None would forget the wrath they had unwittingly evoked.

They had thought they were doing well by taking counsel and blessing from their Gods. Had they're leaders known the ritual they had performed was to awaken a djinn which would lead to the near destruction of their people they would have thought but not once.

There was no magick in the world of men. Except for that of evil, which was harnessed out of malovant intent from a certain sorcerer. The conjurer who convinced the four leaders to perform the rite. The ritual involving the darkest form of magick only the djinns could perform. One that would bring cruelty and malice into a world of peace and solidarity.

A crossing leading to Darun was made, releasing this evil onto earth.

The people of the Nations were threatened by beings that could hardly be described as monsters. Many were stolen from their families and tribes. Some were changed by the dark magick. They became animals, trapped for eternity in those forms as spies and murderers slaves of evil. Others developed a thirst for human blood, they were called vampyres. Killing they're own family members and turning others to share their curse of an eternal life craving for violence and draining the life's blood out of others.

The survivors of the nations were on the brink of destruction, they were weak and outnumbered in comparison to the tormenters. They did not know of any other nations they could call upon for help. Living through a whole day became a blessing, only the strongest could survive. They begged for help and mercy from their Gods to relieve them of this painful torment.

A blight of evil is an obstinate stain. Once made, it is removed with much difficulty.

The Gods poured their goodness and blessings, gifting the people of the four nations. Those that drunk the blood of others were consecrated with the ability to see clearly the errors of what they were doing. The others trapped in the bodies of animals whose lives of eternal service were to evil were given the choice of changing forms when they willed. Most of the damned returned to their people with the exception of a few.

Certain families of each of the four nations were gifted with enchantments to control the elements of water, fire, earth and air. They used these gifts for protection.

After waging a forty year war with the forces of evil the people of the four nations were victorious. They had also formed unions with others from afar in the east and from many different places the blessings of the Gods allowed them to reach.

They formed an agreement to prevent the reawakening of any djinn in the future. To safeguard the gifts and the peace given to them from their Gods they carved small miniatures in which they poured the will to control the magick they're nations possessed. A fifth miniature was made; it held the trapped spirit of the djinn that had caused the release of evil into the world. The five stone structures were sent with a man of the east to a place secured by much magick.

There had been much destruction in the land, three of the nations disbanded to search for new lives and a better future. The people of Miyanu left for the heights of the mountains where they learned about the dragons, and the true powers of air. The people of Kilron searched for safety in the caves and tunnels under mountains far from any of the others. They developed strength with their knowledge of earth of the weaponry they could forge of the many metals found deep under the ground. The nation of Sarjon left for the oceans, seeking knowledge and safety where they knew they could find it best, where they developed much in technology and might learning of the sea's many creatures and other mysteries. However, the people of Ifrit remained where they were. They rebuilt homes and their lives from the destruction the war had left behind. Being the most compassionate of all the nations with a fiery desire for survival they learned the art of healing and medicine.

The four nations eventually forgot to give much importance to the history of their ancestors after a few millennia. The vampires and shape shifters hid their powers, they're descendants inherited the same abilities. They kept it secret from the others, from fear of being ostracized in a society that was perfect and peaceful. A society that had forgotten what true danger and evil was. Little did they know that the evil would be evoked once again for a second time.

o O o

Chapter 1

"Etta". Someone with a sweet summery voice and tiny hands was tugging on her robes. Mirietna looked down and smiled fondly at Enya whose face was covered with dirt and hair full of autumn leaves.

"What will mama say this time Enya?" She looked pointedly at the child's grubby hands that were leaving stains on her dress.

Enya gave her a mischievous smile. She was just past a toddlers age,

her hair were messy black curls and her eyes a cunning green holding the maturity of a child older than her few years.

"Come lets see if we can clean you up before Eithne finds out you've been in the strawberry fields again!", she swung her up easily into her arms and walked towards her home.

A large white villa where she lived with her uncle and cousin, it had delicate green vines covering the walls.

She had barely walked in when a servant came bounding round the corner and almost knocked over an urn. Blushing the boy looked at her sheepishly his eyes turning a darker shade of blue.

"Master wants to see you in the courthouse", Mirietna smiled warmly at Remus. Her uncle still questioned whether it was safe to have him as a servant in the household. She knew in his own way Ignatius held affection for the little boy whom he had rescued years ago.

"Take Enya to Maya and tell her to clean her up, I will go to the court right away", she slid a disappointed Enya to the ground who looked at Remus with open dislike.

"I know where Maya is Etta I can find her myself".

"Children", she said to herself laughing inwardly as she watched Enya walk away with her nose in the air with Remus following at a safe distance.

The day had been overall a good one, the crops were going well. Apart from the little mishap Remus had caused by letting a stray mule into the field. How that had happened she still couldn’t figure out, but she had her doubts on Enya's portrayal of outraged innocence when asked if she had been involved somehow.

Mirietna left the villa and made for the courthouse. There wasn’t such a great distance, maybe a twenty minute walk. She wondered what it was her uncle wanted her to know. She had lived with him ever since she was a child, and had grown up with the knowledge that her parents had died from an incurable illness. She now lived with Ignatius and his daughter Portia. Ignatius's wife had died soon after Portia was born.

Mirietna frowned to herself as she recalled the amount of stress Ignatious had been put through. He had only a single daughter and the Elders of the community were telling him to remarry. Being a leader he needed a son to take over his role after his death. They were probably harping on about it all over again.

She passed the library where she knew Mandrin was inside working on some more ancient scrolls. He had been her best friend since the unforgettable day he had found her stuck at the top of an Elderberry tree. He had been tall then as well, a scrawny scrap of a boy, but still had managed to catch her. Of course, she grinned remembering the incident, it was hard to forget such an occasion, she grinned as she recalled the sunny memory, especially when one fractured one's nose.

Now, whenever she wasn't in the courthouse with her uncle, or in the fields spying on Enya. Or paying those dastardly visits to the 'respectable' noblewomen that were meant to 'teach her a thing or two' about the court, she spent her time in the library with Mandrin. For hours they would pour over the books, ancient manuscripts, cures, maps and scrolls crammed with precious history of wars, strange creatures, courageous warriors and of the thing which they had always been fighting for. But sadly never achieved…peace. The one thing that would unite all people, regardless of their colour, creed or mother tongue.

Ever since she had learned of the word, Mirietna had decided from that moment onwards that if was necessary she would give her life to achieve it.

Mirietna entered the lavish court and stopped a moment in front of a large guilt mirror to survey the damage Enya had done to her robes.

She was of medium stature with dark curly hair that fell to her waist. Her features were not commonly pretty except when she smiled. She had large expressive eyes that were as dark as lava wherein there was deep wisdom born of insightful intellect in the politics her uncle was involved in. Sighing she patted her slightly unruly hair not even attempting to dust off the tiny handprints on her robes. As she turned a clerk directed her to the main room.

She was surprised as she entered the extravagant courtroom to see so many people seated round the main table. What surprised her even more was the fact that there were not only Mervinians present but Kilronans Sarjons and Miyanus.

She recognized the three major people in the magnificent room, Conrad Lord of Voltare was glaring at her from under his bushy brows. The Premier Bien was sitting in another corner, the only sign of emotion on his face was the raised brows looking at her as though she were some interesting sort of insect that he later on planned on dissecting for one of his famous experiments. The Count, Lucio Delkashia who was she noted, darkly handsome in an almost unnatural manner, reclining easily almost predatorily in his chair taking in the scene with some interest, his posture more than hinting at arrogance.

Holding her head high she walked to her uncle who was smiling warmly in her direction. He was a tall broad man with hair as dark as her own, with a slight white showing at the temples.

He offered her a seat next to his.

A tall man at the end of the table stood up and looked at Ignatius wearily. Mirietna assumed he was a Sarjon.The broach he wore proudly on his shoulder had the Ganastus engraved on it. The city under the sea which the Sarjonian's came from.

"Ignatius. I think you have been misinformed. We are not here to discuss any trifle affair" his voice was laced with contempt as he looked directly at Mirietna. "It would be perhaps more acceptable if we could have a higher degree of privacy".

Ignatius smiled warmly but his eyes remained cold.

"We do not have any unnecessary persons present", Mirietna could see the others were about to argue, she cut in.

"Uncle", Ignatius looked at his niece in surprise as did every other pair of eyes in the room, "I have some business to take care of in the library with Mandrin." Her eyes flashed briefly with anger but it subsided as she gave him a brilliant smile that lit up her features. "I hope to see you in the evening".

Ignatius nodded as the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile reserved for his only niece.

He knew what effect Mirietna had on the rest of the people present, when she smiled like that it reminded him of her beautiful mother and his little sister, Kyria. The others just watched the plain but yet strangely beautiful girl silently as she stood up with all the poise of her class and swept out of the room with a grace that could only be called regal, silently fuming that despite the fact that the other nations had gained in so much knowledge they still acted like the common troglodyte.

Cursing in her mind she flung the doors in front of her open and stalked into the courtyard tempted to kick an urn into the window of the main room so it landed directly on that Sarjonian idiot's head.

"Maybe it would knock some sense into the fool", she hissed under her breath her anger rising like a fire that has been freshly stoked.

"Or maybe it could stop you from attending important meetings next time, bring to an end your daily allowance, earn the wrath of your uncle and destroy what strained ties our nation has with the other three leading to a war that would only bring about our own destruction" a soft honeyed voice said from behind her.

Mirietna laughed and turned to smile at Eithne, "Ever the optimist. Tell me did you find Enya or has she gone to conquer the world all over again?"

"Conquer the strawberry fields you mean?" Her friend raised a dark elegant brow her voice holding a mock annoyed expression. "Aye, that girl is trouble. I'm not one given to strange reasoning but when Enya told me she was bitten by a wolf and it were only blood stains on her dress I'm starting to believe I'm not the only sceptic round here".

Mirietna waved her friends dry comments concerning her daughter away. Eithne was much taller than her, her hair always in a bun held in a golden net that allowed a few strands to escape on her forehead. She was pretty in a wholesome way that made one feel right at home with her.

Her husband and Enya's father had been murdered by bandits two years ago when the three of them were traveling to Mervinia. Mirietna had taken her under her charge and seen to her every need. She had healed Eithnie's wounds with her magick and herbs and taken care of Enya, spoiling her with ripe sweet strawberries from her uncle's fields. During that time Eithne and Mirietna had grown very close, like sisters.

Eithne was looking curiously in the direction of the window where a certain individual had been threatened to have an urn thrown at him just moments ago. She was never one to beat round the bush and spoke directly.

"Something must have come to pass to cause all the leaders of the nations to hasten to Mervinia in the dead of the night", her eyes held suspicion born of the instinct to survive. Mirietna looked at her evenly, "I thought so exactly and I intend to discover what it is seeing as they don’t find women fit for such man talk", the last words of which, were sentenced through gritted teeth.

Eithne frowned. "I can hear Enya," she looked at Mirietna and smiled "don’t let that temper get away with you, it’s a shame you cant control its flames as much as you can the ones that spurt out of your hands".

Before Mirietna could open her mouth and rap out a smart reply Eithne had left her and gone.

She looked in the direction of the window where she could hear raised voices. She refused to eavesdrop; it was her right to know what was going on in that room. Ignatius would update her of the discussion later on.

Mirietna walked out of the stables where Remus was watering the horses, it was a hot day and she had taken her cloak off, though it was as undignified as a common washerwoman to do so she gave not an iota of importance to the culture of the high classed women.

She had just completed her work with Mandrin in the library where he was at the moment categorizing all of the ancient texts. Her eyes were sore from reading tiny writing for hours and she lay down nestling against a tree trunk in a shadow. She slipped her feet out of the sandals and sighed as the cool green grass came into contact with her tired feet. Closing her eyes Mirietna started to dream.

The sound of a horse awoke her from her slumber and she realized it was late afternoon, the sky was a beautiful shade of pastel blues and pinks. Shaken out of her reverie she stood up and rubbed her eyes. Her long ivory dress was crumpled and she could just imagine the scandalous look on Portia's disapproving face when she saw Enya's handprints. Suddenly remembering the sounds of the horse she walked towards the field gate where a beautiful black horse and its rider waited, the horse neighing impatiently. Where was Remus when you needed him? Annoyed that he never seemed to be around when it was most necessary she walked to the gateway. She did not care much for social proprieties but upholding the respect for her uncle was important, she was already labeled as a heathen from many which her uncle did not seem to be too pleased about.

Undoing the knot in the rope she freed it from the gate and pulled it open. She tried to see the strangers face but a hood was obscuring it from her view. Shrugging to herself she resumed the task of closing the gate. By this time the man had maneuvered his horse to face her at which without turning because she was too preoccupied with the knot she tried to greet him.

"Welcome to Mervinia", she could only imagine how much she looked like a common farmer's daughter, next she should take Remus's post. Laughter filled her voice as she turned to the man, "I trust you're journey was pleasant", the smile froze on her face as she stared at him.

The hood had slipped off his head and she gazed in awe of his inhuman beauty. He had eyes that were liquid silver, his hair too were silver which meant only one thing. He must be a pure blooded Sarjonian.

Her heart was hammering in her chest. She felt lightheaded under his intense scrutiny. The features were proud and aristocratic, shadows outlining the planes of his almost gaunt face.

He gave her a chilling smile. Mirietna's eyes widened in alarm as she spied the teeth that were sharper than that of the average human. As though recognizing her, the stranger's eyes narrowed and his mouth lifted a little higher in one corner.

"Mirietna? Daughter of Ludon and Kyria?." She flushed deeply half in anger at his

cynical tone and at his gaze as it traveled boldly the length of her. Mirietna's mind was still paralyzed as she tried to take in what he had said. How did he know who she was? And who her parents were?

"One would have thought coming from such nobility you could meet the expense of shoes", he looked pointedly at her bare feet. If possible she turned a darker shade of scarlet feeling the anger uncurling inside of her like a tiger about to pounce upon unsuspecting prey. His contemptuous words worked wonders for her temper, she seethed inwardly.

"And pray who are you?" She replied heatedly, fully aware of how reckless it would be on her part to parry with a Sarjonian noble. Still. The Sarjonian's in general had been getting on her nerves lately.

Mirietna took in a sharp breath as he bent down abruptly bringing his face almost level to hers. So close they could have touched. So close they could have…mentally she shook the rest of the thought out of her head. Then tried unsuccessfully to stop herself from falling into the silvery depths that were his eyes. There were, she noticed in a daze, flecks of darker grey and blue in them. She watched his mouth as he spoke, those sharp teeth flashing ever so often.

"I am Daklos, son of Roland. But to you I", his breath was warm against her skin and she shivered feeling the start of fear.

Those could not be teeth. No they could by no means be teeth.

"Am you're….",

They were fangs.

Fangs designed for nothing but evil intent.

The same evil as was held in his eyes.

"…worst nightmare.." again the smile that chilled her to the bone.

She took in a deep breath as the peculiar numbing sensation disappeared at an alarming speed. This was certainly not someone she wanted to tangle with.

"I will send the stable boy for you're horse", she said quickly trying to summon her courage, trying to make up for the lack of air in her lungs.

"He will show you to the court where you're people are most likely awaiting you", without another word she turned from him.

Mirietna was about to walk to the stable but then remembered her bare feet. Blushing to herself in consternation she retrieved her sandals and hastily found her way to the stables never daring to look back at the man. He was young, she had seen the youth in his face, but his eyes, Mirietna trembled as she remembered. Those eyes could not hold years in their deep depths. Nay. They could have seen nothing short of centuries.

o O o

Hope you liked it people waves

...z