I just can't seem to stop, can I? I'm always changing this! Thankfully, though, I will hopefully keep it this way. I've had it edited by two people on Wattpad. Maybe that will keep me from changing it!

Prologue – Letter To No One

I've always been the type of girl most parents would want their kids to stay away from. I'm the one who wears black training clothes, not frilly, girly dresses that adults expected me to wear. I know how to kill someone fifty different ways with my bare hands, yet not a thing about cooking. My hair hasn't been brushed in the last few days, and has never been touched by a ribbon in its life.

Most conservative citizens of Donhamn despise girls like me who live in Lármór, Donhamn's capital, for one reason, and one reason only: the fact that demigods, prodigies, and magically-gifted people are allowed in, but mediocre, average, boring people like themselves aren't. It's all because of the gods, though. They are the ones who established Lármór as their home. They are the ones who set all the limitations and rules of who could live where. It is only our fault we were born special.

Take me, for example. My father's a soldier in Troid-Míste's army in the East. If I had lived with him, I would have grown up learning how to sew, how to cook, and how to heal people in his camp near the border of Donhamn and Magna. My life would have been an utter waste. It's just pure chance that my mother was the goddess Ignatius, patron of fire, war, and revenge. If she wasn't, then I would have never ended up in Lármór, and never learned how to fight. It all depends on fate.

Of course, living in Lármór has its disadvantages, too. Living here gets lonely. I hardly know anyone outside the training center, and my classmates never want to socialize with me. I don't really have any friends, but that's the life of a demigod. We train until we are eighteen, we join Donhamn's army in Troid-Míste, then we either retire at forty or die. We don't get a single word in the decision.

Is it wrong, then, to dream of escaping Lármór and doing something remarkable? I've never followed the rules, and I certainly don't want to join the army. I want to get out in the world and be remembered for something that I'd done. I want my name to be written in every history textbook produced by Aelín. Angela Connor, the girl who changed history.

When I first came across Angelo-Dánte, I was studying for a final the next day. For some reason, they had been put in my history book. Then again, the history in my book was very questionable. After all, I was in Lármór to train, not to fight. Anyway, Angelo-Dánte was a rebel group that had terrorized Donhamn for ten years until they disappeared three years ago. Their leader, Nathániel Angelo-Dánte, was a tenebri - a son of Mortem, the god of darkness. He also had trained in Lármór as a soldier until he turned eighteen. But he didn't plan on joining the army. Instead, he fled to Sürden, the country to the south of Donhamn with a record of the most civil wars fought. The nation itself was a very war-centered country: nearly everything they produced was war-related. Even Ärden, Sürden's capital, was named after the male god of war and violence. The setting was perfect for Dánte, then. His mind had always been focused on war and fighting, and Sürden was the best place to plot war.

Dánte formed his rebel group Angelo-Dánte after fifteen years in Sürden as a modest swords-seller in Ärden. He had been brewing his hatred for Donhamn for thirty-three years before finally coming public about it. The first attack on Domhamn was on the port city Caíasca in Troid-Míste. Caíasca was a trading port, meaning that it was where most imports from Sürden came in. That day, a cargo ship full of armor for the troops was being sent in. Dánte, ever the clever one, had also rigged the boat with sticks of dynamite, enough to explode the entire ship, plus half the harbor. And it worked, too.

At nine twenty-three the morning of Dánte's terrorist attack, fifty people were on the Rüben, a Sürdenese cargo ship, unloading the freshly-produced armor when the felt a slight tremor. Nobody even had time to prepare when the ship burst into explosives, killing all fifty workers and sixteen more around the harbor. Five ships, excluding the Rüben, were destroyed, and over one hundred people were injured. It was the greatest act of terror up till that point on Donhamn, and they were blaming Sürden for it. So, for the next two years, Donhamn sent all their troops to Sürden, blowing up cities, killing Sürden's royalty, and destroying nearly a third of all of Sürden's cities. Sürden, in return, assaulted Troid-Míste, sinking about thirty small fishing islands, killing nearly one hundred thousands soldiers, plus the kidnapping of five dragons and a dragon tamer to use as slaves. War finally ended after one year and ten months of fighting.

But Angelo-Dánte wasn't done yet. Over the next ten years, he planned and succeeded seven terrorist attack on Lármór, as well as shootings all across Donhamn. Nobody knew who he was, and that scared people even more. The gods were determined to find him.

A year before Angelo-Dánte disappeared, Dánte himself was caught in Daoín-Laích trying to smuggle out a virus being examined in Daoín-Laích Laboratories in Víreas, the capital of Daoín-Laích. He was held in Troid-Míste's prison for six months until his sentencing, which his own father, Mortem, attending. Dánte's sentence was burning at the stake, performed by my mother Ignatius, but a month before it was to happen he disappeared. Ever since, Angelo-Dánte has been nonexistent anywhere in the world.

That's what scares me.

I haven't read a lot in my fifteen years, but I do have good intuition. When a terrorist group suddenly disappears off the face of the Earth, it can only mean one of two things: one, they have disbanded, and are no longer together, or two, they have gone into hiding and are plotting a huge, maybe even worldwide, terrorist attack. And as I much as I pray it is the former, I know that it is most likely not true.

That is why I, Angela Connor, have made it my new life mission to find Angelo-Dánte once and for all. No way am I going to be joining the army like my father; I am going for form a team to track Dánte down and destroy him - for good. I need five people: five anomalies, like me. A dragon tamer for transportation, a scholar for wisdom, a necromancer for revival purposes, a seer for seeing the future, and a sorceress for magic. Together, we will join together and destroy Angelo-Dánte, once and for all. If this is ever read, just make sure the public is clear when I say this: I will find Nathániel Angelo-Dante. And I will kill him. Mark my words.

Signed,

Angela Connor, daughter of Ignatius the Fire-bender and Trainee at Lármór Training Center