Prologue

THE FOLLOWING STORY YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ CONTAINS: BLOOD, GORE, AND INTENSE SADNESS. 

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

ENJOY :D

Their invasion started on the west borders of Siligo. With them, they brought bloodshed. They were merciless, bloodthirsty. Wielders of magic and glyphs. They struck at night when our men slept, dragging their corpses away with them. Away back to the hell they crawled out from.

We slurred the name upon them.

Witches.

Carnivores of the night. Always hungry. Bringing death and darkness.

Prey by morning. Cowards. Victims to light and power.

We advanced at dawn, driving them back. Victory was sweet on our tongues, but many of our men fell.

One battle included my father and brother. Neither returned home; alive or in one piece. No whole bodies were really found. None recognizable to say the least. Half eaten or magically burned men were all noon patrols could scavenge together for proper burial.

Many wives and families sat vigil most night, weeping silently into the graves of the returned dead.

Mother, Leona, and I were one of the few families who prayed for our losses in the shelter of our own home. I was only eight when the war begun between our city and the witches from Bellum.

I was only eight when my mother was stolen in the wheat fields during the dusk of the twelfth day in Mense. She had cried out to Erus as she was swallowed into the earth. Greedy hands pawed at her flesh as they had nearly consumed her whole structure before me, just as I was taken away back home.

Each day Leona sat beside the front door, waiting for our mother to return. My three year old baby sister never comprehended that our mother, father, and elder brother would never step into the household again.

My name is Vivian and this is our story.