Preface: Death

Forged in War, Born of Death, Saved by Love

--Jackson Rathbone

The short man cleared his throat and brushed invisible dirt from his black suit, stepping up onto a small podium. He smiled weakly at the crowd gathered, a large sea of black and tears; two things that made Mr. Wells very nervous. So instead, he turned his gaze to the piece of paper in his hands.

"Last will and testament of Debra De Luca," he read aloud, swallowing hard. He hated public speaking. He really did. "I, Debra De Luca, residing at Willow Way, New Zealand, being of sound mind, do hereby declare this instrument to be my last will and testament."

The poor man coughed and pulled out a small cloth from the folds of his suit and wiped away the sweat collecting on his brow before continuing with the reading. "I hereby revoke all previous wills and codicils. I direct that the disposition of my remains be as follows: I wish to be cremated, and then released over the free ocean. I don't want to be buried nor kept as some souvenir; I want to be free in death as I was in Life."

Mr. Wells jerked at the sound of loud, obnoxious sobbing emitting from the deceased woman's mother. Or, he assumed, the woman was her mother. He couldn't be sure. He shifted from foot to foot nervously; glancing up at the ceiling as if his courage was being strung from the tiles, he then turned his attention back to the will. The faster he did this, the quicker he could get off the damn podium and away from the unwanted attention.

"I give all the rest and residue of my estate to my spouse, Leonardo De Luca, should he survive me for 60 days. If my spouse, Leonardo De Luca, does not survive me, I give all the rest and residue of my estate to Renee Anne Ways. If neither Leonardo De Luca nor Renee Anne Ways, survives me, I give all the rest and residue of my estate to my heirs as determined by the laws of New Zealand relating to descent and distribution.

"I appoint Mr. Tyler Reynolds, as executor of this will, to serve without bond. Should Mr. Tyler Reynolds be unable or unwilling to serve, then I appoint Ryan Wells to act as executor of this will."

There, he sighed deeply. All finished. That was all Tyler had wanted him to read aloud and he had done it, finally. And he hadn't fainted once, which was a good thing in Mr. Wells' book.

Carefully, slowly, he stepped off the podium and waddled away, heading back to his seat among the mourning crowd of friends and relatives of one Debra De Luca, a much loved doctor from the General Hospital.

Mr. Wells sat there for the next hour, listening to stories and jokes told about this mysterious woman, feeling tremendously out of place; after all, he never knew the woman. He was there to read the will (finished) and that was it. But he didn't want to leave in the middle of the funeral. That would be disrespectful, wouldn't it?

The only reason he was the alternative executor of the will was because Tyler had recommended him for some asinine motive, if he shouldn't be able to take up his role, which, of course, he wasn't; mostly because Leo had caught him and his wife in bed together six months ago. Not like the man was here today to uphold the threat of strangling Tyler should he come in contact with his family ever again; Leo had died of a car accident one month ago.

Ryan sighed and shook his head. This family was a large expanse of tragedy; first, the odd love affair between Tyler and Debra, then their daughter's strange case of sickness, Leo's death, and now this, Debra's mysterious ending.

Tragic life story of the family, De Luca.

When the mourners began to file out of the church, he followed suit, avoiding looking anyone in the eyes. He really was an awkward, nervous guy, the poor bloke.

But he lifted his head when he saw the little girl, sitting in the back pew, her hands folded in her lap and her legs swinging back and forth, her toes still an inch off the ground. Keira De Luca was beautiful; he had heard of her beauty, but…damn. It was almost…otherworldly, even as a child. He could only imagine what would happen when she grew up.

Suddenly, her head snapped up and her violent purple eyes landed on him. A childish smile broke across her alabaster skin and she hopped off the bench, skipping over to him. Her crimson hair bounced in ringlets around her unblemished skin, her small hands clasped behind her back as she stared up at Mr. Wells, still smiling.

"Hi. I'm Keira. You're the man who read Mommy's last story, right?" she asked, swaying slightly. Her black dress blew in the breeze that wafted from the open doors, dancing around her legs.

Mr. Wells felt unbearable pity well up in his chest. "Yes, Keira; I am. My name's Mr. Wells. I…er, well I know an old friend of your mom."

Keira nodded solemnly. "Yes. That Tyler man, I remember him. He used to listen to my stories."

"Your stories?"

Suddenly, her whole countenance shifted. Her smile turned down at the corners and she scowled down at the ground. "That's what everyone else calls them. But they aren't. Mommy and Daddy both listened to me; they believed me. Everyone else is Blind."

Mr. Wells stared at the young child strangely. "Sweetie, they aren't blind; they can see, just like you and me."

But Keira wouldn't hear it; her curls flailed as she shook her head venomously. "No. You're just as blind as them. I thought…but no, I was wrong."

Ryan Wells was flabbergasted. The child was odd; but what was even stranger was how she was speaking; so refined for a six year old; like she had learned so much in such a short span of life.

"Mommy and Daddy died because of what people like you can't see," the young girl continued. But then she clasped her hands over her mouth, staring at the man with wide eyes that quickly welled up with dewy tears. Mr. Wells was taken aback; her behavior had him taking a step back, worrying that the sickness she had had earlier in the year wasn't physical but mental.

Before he could utter a single word, the girl ran from the church, whispering hurriedly to something only she could see. Ryan blinked but then shook his head; tragic family, no doubt.

He didn't go to the 'mourning' party after the funeral. Instead, he slid into his green Prist and sighed in relief. The day had not been what he considered good, nor normal for that matter. But no matter; it was over and he would be back to normalcy tomorrow. He'd wake up in his lonely, one room apartment, and then head off to his normal job, UPS shipping.

Making sure it was clear, Ryan Wells pulled onto the empty street and headed the opposite way of the funeral procession, continuing through his normal everyday routine.

After work, he'd come home, most likely order take-out (probably Chinese; he's had too much pizza and Italian this week), then watch the news before taking a semi-warm shower and heading to bed.

He smiled; normal, that's what he was. That's how he lived his life and he liked it.

A loud, drawling horn broke through his senses and he cried out as the bright headlights of the Semi sped straight towards his little Prist.

His death was quick; hardly felt a thing. Yes, Ryan Wells had been normal. Unfortunately, thanks to the slip-up of a very abnormal girl, he had to be taken care of.

And so he was.

The two vehicles were twined together, the large body of the Semi wrapped around the smaller car like a boa constrictor. But still, the driver's door of the Semi opened and out stepped a tall lean man, his skin even whiter than Keira's had been.

His sapphire eyes regarded the car crash with little interest; his midnight hair pulled back elegantly, revealing two pointed ears. After making sure that Ryan Wells was, in fact, dead, the Faerie Knight strode away, disappearing into the woods.


Death Certificate

Name: Wells, Ryan

DOB: May 16, 1964

DOD: August 4, 1998

Age at Death: 34

Cause of Death: Car accident; smashed by Semi

Place of Death: Welics Avenue

Approximate Time of Death: 4 o'clock P.M.

Death Classification: Hit-And-Run

Other: driver of Semi was not found; assumed alive; ran away once realizing s/he killed a man.

Living Relatives: N/A


A large group of people attending a second funeral that week; including Keira De Luca, who sat in the back, her expression no longer child-like. It was distant, sad, upset, confused.

She didn't remember the world of Faerie. She didn't remember being the cause of Ryan Wells death. She didn't remember her Faerie friends or the meadows or the songs or the Knight that had erased her memory.

She did, however, remember her parent's, in startling clarity. She remembered how they smiled at her and told her stories of the Fay Folk. And so her belief stuck; after all, they can't erase the Second Sight. Only her memoirs.

And even the harshest of punishments never last forever. No punishment but Death; and she was still alive.

As she grew, memories would come back to her; she'd be visited by her friends of old.

But it isn't until eleven years later that things get interesting; when things are finally set in motion; when the reign of man will begin to deteriorate, the throne going to the next ruling species: Faerie.

And blood will be spilt. No matter what, the Fay Folk will have their Kingdom back.

Faerie blood will replenish itself. Human blood will not.

And so the war will begin.

A/N: Squeee! I got it up earlier than I thought possible! How amazing. XD Okay, so, I looked up how to write a proper Death Ceritficate and Will but...well, they were damn long. And I didn't feel like typing them all out. So, I summarized. Aren't you proud? XP

I'll try to get chapter one up soon. But tomorrow I shall update OWR. Yep. I shall.

Fare thee well