Ancient Lies; the prologue.

Although I am risking more than my life simply to tell you quite a little of this very odd history, I will do so, in hope that someone, somewhere, shall stop them, the ones who would seek to destroy all defiance.

Deep, deep in the depths of the ocean, lies a great domain, made of an opaque sister of the diamond, commonly called Okrin. It glitters with an inner light, and it is this precious stone that a certain, horrible monster made its city of.

If you met this monster on the street, (which, if you live near a beach, is not unlikely) you would not notice it being there. You would, with all likelihood, only see another man, strolling happily along the side-walk like any ordinary person would. But I advise you not to be fooled. This ‘ordinary person’ is ten times more poisonous than a python, and six times deadlier than a mountain lion; he said it himself. I cannot give you the description I would like to of his real form, for I have not much time. They will be here any minute, and – well, I think that’s something we do not need to elaborate on…

With the little time I have left, I must tell you of the other one, the one who – whether or not you believe me – lives in the sky. I think the first question you’re going to ask is, ‘How come airplanes and birds don’t hit him?’ or something of the sort. That magic is much to deep for me to understand, let alone explain. All I can tell you is this: if you are ever outside, and a red truck drives past, get inside as fast as is physically possible, and pray he didn’t see you. For if he did, well… you don’t have long on this Earth.

*

The woman wrote in blurry scrawls across the mussed paper, feverish eyes burning with an inner intensity. She had bruises all over her visible skin, her clothes filthy rags that hung loosely on her gaunt figure. Brushing a stray lock of blondish-brown hair out of her eyes, she folded up the little pile of writing, sliding it into an envelope that lay beside her on the dirt floor.

The little shack creaked ominously around her, a warning to what was soon to happen. She stood up quickly, striding to the door with an obvious determination replacing the fiery look in her eyes. The crack under the door cast a feeble light inside, illuminating the bale of hay in the corner, the little balls of rejected paper that littered the ground, and the only other furnishing, which was merely a two shelved bookcase.

Her hand was on the wooden doorknob, and her heart was thumping in her chest. A noise outside seemed to make her reconsider, but the look in her eyes – which seemed to falter for a moment – seemed to flare up again, and she pushed open the ancient door. It squealed warningly on its old hinges, repeating the whisper of the little house. Again she ignored it, starting out into the bright sunlight.

“The little fish has finally come out of its hovel.” Rasped a voice which was all too familiar to the woman.

“Sela, where have you been?” asked the other, its voice sweet; almost too sweet.

She stared at the two people before her, a horrified look on her pale face.

For a moment, she opened her mouth, wanting to answer the question with honesty. And then she closed it again, looking down at her feet in clear defeat.

“I told you she wouldn’t have anything to say for herself.” Said the first who had spoken, stepping forward.

“If you were mine, you would pay unspeakably for your deceit, Ecre.” It slapped the woman across the face, sending her staggering back into the hut.

All noise seemed to stop for a moment, a waiting hope clear in the heavy air.

“And yet, I leave her to you… for now.” Said the second one, and then it turned and strolled away, not even casting a glance at her terrified expression.

“Oh don’t worry my friend. ‘For now’ is all I need.” Its voice was filled with an immense pleasure, cruel laughter filling the air as the door swung shut on the two.

All other noises were soon drowned out by the screams of pain that were cast from the shack.

*

The cloaked figure strutted around the trembling form of a girl, growling steadily.

“Get down, stupid. You don’t stand in front of an Olmaniei.” He snarled, shoving her down roughly.

‘S-sir, I do-don’t know wh-why you bro-brought me here, but I- I don’t think my master will be happy. You kno-know he doesn’t like it when - when…” she trailed off, biting her lip savagely.

“When what, little fish? Or do you not want to remember…?” A smile glimmered from under the darkened hood, horribly long fangs glinting in the little light that pushed its way inside the small space.

“I don’t… I don’t believe that has… has anything to do wi-with my lord’s wishes, sir.”

She shivered from her seat on the floor, pulling her ragged cloak closer.

“No, then, I suppose you don’t. Not that it bothers me, only… only I do so wish you would, for my sake. Please, Sela?”

His voice was deadly, yet almost pleading as he stared down at her, waiting for a reply to his odd request.

“You know I can hardly remember anything, sir. But you… you got angry with me, didn’t you?” She looked up hopefully, and his hooded head nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“But why…” Sela started, and then stopped quickly, look of realization hitting her hard and fast.

“I tried to…” she swallowed, pausing. “I only tried to help…” Now her voice was a mere squeak, and her eyes had grown wide, searching the room as if hoping a door or window would appear, so she could escape.

“Help?” the smallest chuckle seemed to taint his voice. “Help? But I don’t believe I asked for help now, did I?”

“N-n-no, sir, y-you didn’t… b-but, I was… you were h-hurt, and I was barely a-awake. It was… it was only instinct really, sir.”

He crouched down next to her, voice barely audible when he spoke again.

“Would I be alright if I did something that was merely instinct, little fish?”

“Ins-instinct? Well I… you’re… I mean, your instincts are kind of…” she trailed off again, seeing something in his hooded eyes that she obviously didn’t like.

He whispered something as he stood back up, and yet it didn’t seem he was saying it to himself, or to his victim. A gust of wind blew through with amazing force, – although no windows or doors were even cracked – tearing the cloak from his shoulders, and carrying it away; even though, as I said before, there were no places for it to go to. It seeped into the wall itself, making no sound.

“Violent?” he murmured, watching with obvious pleasure the horrified expression on Sela’s face. She had only seen him so a very few times, and she sat in petrified wonderment, staring up at the creature who stood before her.

He was, in the loosest sense, a terrible sight. Standing as any human would, the wolf flexed his long claws, his black pelt smelling of blood, and… fear.

The animal wore a simple black tunic, stained quite obviously with fresh blood. He fiddled aimlessly with the scimitar that hung from his left hip, stroking the ruby enameled hilt.

“Yes, I am…” he lunged forward, digging his claws deep into her thigh, a fanged smile filling his horrific face. “Quite wild.”