Prologue

As Humans, it is in our nature to put ourselves above all other races, and to believe that we are honestly the most important – the single most powerful – race.

Above the usual society, there is an Underworld of enlightened minds, those who shun the narrow ideas of their Governments and Leaders. These people know a true reality, and they know that things will not last forever. Resources will run out, the lands will die and shrivel whilst the rivers and lakes will run dry...

Yet when all is said and done, there is a single line of masters who can withstand this time of chaos moving so unpredictably towards them, and possibly save all of mankind. The upper society would never condone or even agree to the existence, both for their lack of acceptance and because of what they deem in the realms of insanity.

Among Humanity there in a single strand of genes living in only one of them, and it laid dormant until a few years ago, when a cataclysm destroyed a town in the back end of what was once southern England. It was overlooked, police and the Government figures too busy with the living, too busy to try and find out what caused it.

Those who survived cleared the dead and made homes of what was left of their broken town, whilst the culprit moved on, never to be seen by anyone ever again.

Until now...

The Underground has gained hope, their Master’s Line may once again rise, and by a shred of luck...humanity and peace may be restored.

_

This was her sanctuary, a place to escape from the near dead world around her, and all of her mentors thrived here. The Water burbled quietly, a small waterfall that fell in a graceful sheet to form a clear pond. The Earth was rich and fertile, uncorrupted and flourishing with full and vibrant plants. The Air was clear, and clean, filling the lungs and making one feel at ease in this place. The Fire next to her, crackled and shimmered, giving warmth and light to the surrounding area.

It was a small place, but it was certainly enough for her. The Four called out to her, whispered firm but desperate pleas for all the havoc to end, for everything to return to what it once was...for the Balance to return. Call of the Earth, a deep and rumbling voice that shook the soul and strengthened the heart. Call of the Air, a voice that could change from soft and faint to a deafening bellow, which carried the spirit high and acted as bladed guardian. Call of the Water, a calm voice that washed over one’s mind and gave them focus. Finally...Call of Fire, a rasping but firm voice, one that gave both the power to destroy and renew, and emboldened the will.

If that wasn’t enough...her teacher told her only recently that her particular line was also derived from another art. Not so apart from their own, but with a distinct separation...

“Raven!” she blinked sharply, amber eyes gaining focus as she was brought violently out her trance. The fire flickered angrily, upset for the disturbance as a short, blonde-haired young man strode inside the secret enclave. “Raven, Plyso needs you back at the Haven Canal,” he stated, looking like he’d been running. The girl sighed; glancing at her camp fire as it seemed to shimmer deliberately, wanting her to stay. All of them wanted her to stay; she was the only one who even remotely understood them...

“Fine,” she said in her monotone voice.

The pair left with due haste, travelling quickly and without rest until they reached their destination. With everyone barking and spitting venom at each other about how their world was turning out from overuse of fossil fuels and resources, ‘old-fashioned’ mounts were becoming more popular among those who could take care of them.

Horses were suddenly ‘all the rage’.

“Raven, Lonnie, good timing,” came the voice of a bearded man in his late 70s. His overcoat was covered in forgotten trinkets that had been attached god knows when, and a pair of old glasses perched upon the bridge of his crooked nose. Raven wordlessly passed her reins over to him and walked by, black hair getting briefly whipped back via the movement of air as the huge double doors opened into her other, less private safe haven.

The man sighed, glancing towards Lonnie as he dismounted and also passed the reins. “Thanks Raymik,” he gave a half-hearted smile. “Plyso still making a noise?” he asked. Raymik sighed, running a withered hand over his long beard. “Well, he hasn’t stopped biting the head off from everyone who’s tried to talk to him...” he muttered. “You better hurry, wouldn’t want the girl to deal with him by herself.”

Lonnie nodded quickly and disappeared into the Underground Haven after his companion.

This was a safe house for those of like mind to Lonnie, Raven and Raymik. Hidden away from the normal lives of other Humans and of the constraints that were beginning to close in around those trying to lead a life in the old ways.

“Raven!” Plyso grumbled, the middle-aged man narrowing his bright eyes at the pale girl. Raven glanced briefly at him, before moving her gaze to the shuttered screen in front of them. They were standing outside one of the containment cells; some of them more specialized than others to hold...non-human prisoners.

“What is it, Plyso?” Raven asked, not bothering to really open her mouth when she spoke, the girl chose more to speak through her teeth. “So important you had to interrupt my communing...?” her voice carried an edge to it briefly. Plyso snorted, rather incensed by the girl at this moment in time and was not in the mood for her distinct attitude. “You commune more than you actually help, so I hardly thought interrupting you would do any damage at all,” he growled out.

Plyso waited for her to react, but the girl remained silent and only keeping her gaze fixed upon the closed viewing screen. “You have a problem to take care of...” he muttered, flicking a switch upon the old steel plated wall and opening the screen.

Now Raven gave the briefest reaction to what she saw, her body stiffened and a sharp inhale followed. “Cendarius...” she whispered.

Inside the massive, cylindrical prison was a chained spirit of fire. But there something hideously wrong with this one, where once its form was flickering with bold flames of red, orange, yellow, and with a core of near black...

Now its body was alight with blue, black and aqua flames. The twin burning jewels of its eyes were glittering white against its twisted face as it struggled against its bonds, spouting fire just as vile as its once pure body.

Raven had known this one, he had helped her to find and master the fiery part of her elemental state, or at least, perhaps only to have better control of it. Fire was widely thought of as a wild thing, something hard if not impossible to maintain said control over.

Now one of her mentors had fallen...

“Raven, you have to take care of this...” Plyso’s voice dragged the girl from her thoughts. Raven’s fist tightened, she maintained an emotionless face even though inside she felt like screaming. “Let me in then...” she muttered.

Plyso opened the safe gate into the cell, letting Raven walk into a smaller chamber closed off by two doors, one on the outside, and one on the inside of the prison. As soon as she went in, the wall closed tightly shut behind her, whilst the opposite side slid open.

Unsurprisingly, heat greeted her like a desert wind in summer, but she strode forwards onto the high platform overlooking the once great spirit. “Cendarius...” Raven spoke his name, and the spirit turned his head towards her, white eyes regarding the much smaller being.

They held this staring contest for a few agonizingly long, drawn out seconds.

Cendarius roared and parted his burning jaws, letting rip a shot of aqua flame at the girl. She raised her hand, causing the flame to split two ways and move around her instead. “Forgive me...”