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Lancaster, England 1995

The hour was late, close to midnight and John, a seven year old boy with strawberry blond hair and green eyes was slowly dosing off in the back seat of his step fathers car.
John let out a sigh and looked out of the window. The road was dark, almost deserted; here and there a car passed them by, zooming out of the darkness, the bright light flashing in the low fog and momentarily blinding John in its wake.
John didn't like the darkness. Lonely trees grew on one side of the highway, spaced too far apart.
Their long branches reached up and stretched like bony claws into the road with their shadows, threatening to grab hold of john with their long fingers and drag him away into the abyss on the other side of the road.
John closed his eyes, he tried to ignore the night that fell around them, his hands tightly holding onto his favorite toy, a furry creature from a beloved TV show he named Fluffy as if it might protect him from the things that lurked in the dark.  
Rain began to fall and its soothing sound along with the steady movement of the vehicle against the black asphalt had soon lolled John into a peaceful sleep.
For what seemed like a long time the ride was smooth and calm but then a hard thump jerked John awake, causing him to cry out in fear.  
“What was that?!”
John yelped from his seat, panic evident in his voice as he let Fluffy fall out of his hands and he dug his fingers into the seat belt that bound him, terrified.
“It's ok, honey. Calm down. We’re fine.”
His step father Greg, a slender man with short brown hair and honey colored eyes told him, attempting to keep his voice calm for the sake of his step son as he held onto the steering wheel as tightly as his hands allowed him.
He didn’t know if there was anything wrong with the vehicle, he didn’t see anything on the road that they might have hit them he didn’t want his son to worry.
Greg steadied the car, taking the speed down and attempting to stop completely so he would be able to get off and see what exactly happened to the tires that felt a little too unsteady to his liking.
'Better safe than sorry.' He thought.
He guided the car to the side of the road and hit the brakes but nothing happened.
Cold sweat took hold of him as he pushed on the breaks again and again, hiding his agitated face from his son.
Another thumb, much harder than the one before sent the car forward, lifting it to one side on two wheels and then dropping back with ear shattering crash.
John screamed, terrified, he almost flew out of his seat, his little hands clawing into the leather interior, the seat belt painfully digging into his skin.
John heard a horrible blast as two of the wheels suddenly blew and the car flipped over, his screams getting lost in the noise of the wreckage.
The car finally stopped on the dirt part of the road right on the edge of a bottomless black abyss, the noise of the crash still echoing in the distance.

John was the first to wake up, his head hurt and he could smell the foul fumes coming from the exhaust.
He growled in pain and raised himself to a sitting position and that’s when he saw it, a black cloud over the hood of the car, streaming the smoke up and hissing in the creepy silence that seemed to spread around them.
John crocked in pain, tears wiling their way out of his eyes. He was scared and as far as he knew it completely alone beside his father that would not answer him.
John wracked his brain to come up with a plan on his own that might save them.
Greg was lying unconscious; his body leaned against the steering wheel. He was alive but John couldn’t know that, in his seven year old mind and from the things that he saw on TV his father looked dead because that is how dead people looked, unmoving and bloody.
”Aaggh..” john looked down at his own bloody hands. “Dad…’ He whispered as he tagged at the seat belt. “Dad…” John managed to unbuckle his belt with his trembling fingers, and then he crawled to the shuttered door and kicked it out, his shaky body falling to the dirt.
He cried, getting weakly to his feet and stumbling to the front door of the car where his father still lay unconscious.
”Dad?” His eyes rested on Greg’s cell phone, he knew that if he called a grownup they would be able to help him, that’s what mom told him to do in case of an emergency and this was defiantly it.
“I’ll call mom!”
He told himself reaching for the car door handle and yanking it down but the door didn’t budge.
John tried to open the door repeatedly but it was useless, the metal was bent in, jammed from the force of the blow it received from the road and yanking on it was completely pointless.
John pulled harder, refusing to give up on the only thing that could save him.
“Stupid door! Open up already! Agghhh!”
He fell again to the ground, crying, and frustrated.
There was no use; he couldn’t do it by himself. No one was coming to rescue them and his father wasn’t waking up to save him, he really was all alone.
“What am I going to do now?”
John asked the air, sniffing and trying to stop himself from crying as he stood up again, looking around at the open road.
He tried to avert his glance from the menacing looking trees, the wind blew through his shoulder long hair and he shuddered, cold mixed in with fear.
He waited in silence beside the deserted road, sitting by the ruined car while the storm picked up around him, the cold was becoming unbearable and John could feel the first drops of rain.
He couldn’t just continue to seat there, he would surreally die before morning, he was sure of that.
Deciding to try again he got up and looked at the abandoned road behind him.
He balled his fists and gathered his courage to go call for help but as he begun stepping away from the car, attempting not to look at his seemingly dead father he felt something grab at his ankle, pulling his back.
John looked down and almost fainted from terror, screaming his lungs out at the sight before his little eyes.
A skeleton like hand had crawled from under the car and was now tightly holding onto his trembling ankle.
Actually, it only resembled a hand because John knew that nothing human could ever look like that, it just couldn’t, not even in his worst nightmares.
The hand was long, brown and awfully resembled a cockroach’s feeler, the way it was moving and the lack of skin on it, it looked like it was about to snap at any moment but it was too strong for John to shake it off.
John screamed again, making an attempt to run but the feeler like hand yanked hard on his foot, sending his body crashing down to the cold hard ground, smacking him against the mud. His vision clouded.
At that moment ,when the sound of the little body hitting the ground echoed through the air Greg stirred in his seat and had finally pried his eyes open.
With his broken vision he watched a hooded figure lift the unconscious body of his son and looking straight at him through orbs filled with darkness let out such a horrid sound that Greg had feared his mind was going to explode.
Greg tried to move but the loss of blood and the blow to his body overcame him as he unwillingly drifted back into nothingness, whispering his son’s name.
The hooded figure carried John to the edge of the abyss, it looked down and then as the boy in its arms stirred awake again, with a high pitched shriek they were both gone, lost in the chasm .

After a while a truck driver that happened to be driving by in the early hours of the morning spotted Greg in the half ruined car and called for an ambulance.
They came in time to save Greg but by then all the blood left by John on the ground has washed away as were the monster’s tracks, along with any clues to his whereabouts and he was never found.
The police labeled the affair a car accident and concluded that Greg had hallucinated the whole ordeal due to his head injury and that the rain and the slippery road were the cause to the crash; they didn’t believe him when he claimed that a mysterious hooded figure had abducted his son and that he was still alive somewhere.
The police assumed that John had woke up first after the car had crashed to the side of the road, got out disoriented and half conscious and then unfortunately he didn’t notice the abyss and fell straight into it, his body washed away by the current of the gashing waters billow.



Fuji Five Lakes region, northern Mount Fuji, 1917

The moon has risen over the darkening tops of the snowy mountains. The flame was slowly dying out in the ashes of the fireplace in the small wooden hut.
The old man stood, his body shaking as if possessed over his creations.
At last! He had finally done it! He had finished the task appointed to him by the visions that hunted his endless nights. Perhaps now, finally, at the eve of his years, he will be granted some peace.
“I’ve done it.” He murmured, looking over his shining creations in the dying light of the fireplace. “I had finally done it! It’s finished!” He clapped his hands together, almost collapsing onto the leather covered stool that stood behind him, exhausted but relieved.
“Father?” A young man named Riku, no older than twenty, dressed in feudal era Boro - scraps of clothing sewn together over generations by his family in pale and dark blue fabric ,had carefully stepped into the dimly lighted room.
The gaze of the young man fell upon his elderly father crouched forward, his head in his hands aloft the leather stool.
“Are you well otousan?” Riku asked, carefully stepping into the room, afraid to disturb the old man that sat in it. For years now the teen had learned to stay away from his father when he entered that chamber. His task, whatever it was had consumed him and countless nights the youth had spent in begging the stars to rid his father of his appointed burden.
“Oh…” The old man let out a cough, not raising his eyes. “Yes, I’m fine.” He said, groggily pulling himself up. “Here, let me help you father.” Riku offered, lending the old man his hand to lean on. “Ohm…”Something flashed at the corner of his vision and Riku glanced out the hut's dark window.
“Look father, "He frowned. "What a weird light to be seen during the night…the sun, it had set hours ago…” He uttered, almost inaudible but the old man’s reaction to his words was violent. He snapped his head towards the window, his eyes widening in fear.
“No… no…”He stuttered. “Father?” Riku looked at him confused.
“No!” The old man suddenly seized Riku by the tunic he was wearing and pushed him toward the wall, and down to the cupboard that stood there.
“What are you doing?!” Riku stared at his father, astonished.
The old man didn’t answer but he reached into the tight space of the cupboard and pulled open a secret passage way that seemed to be leading to a hidden cellar, one that Riku knew nothing about.
As he contemplated his father's erratic actions he gathered that the old man had carved into the stone years ago preparing just for this moment, a moment he prayed would never come.
“Father! What’s going on!?” Riku demanded but the old man ignored him.
He quickly turned to the table he was working at and gathered the pile of hand written pages that were scattered there, hurriedly thrusting them into his son’s hands.
“Guard this with your life!" The old man ordered, pushing his son further into the covert space. “Whatever you do…whatever you hear, do not come out!” He said promptly, his eyes burning with insanity and desperation.  
“Run.” The old man whispered as he closed the door to cupboard in the face of his astonished son.
Seconds later, just as the old man got back up to his feet the door to his small chamber had burst open and there he was, the one that he was working so hard all these years to stop stood before him, smiling brightly as his personal guard piled in.
“I was waiting for you.” Riku heard his father say with hardness in his voice he himself had never encountered.
“Good, then we will not waste our time in small talk, hand it over old man.” Another voice answered, smug and filled with confidence. Riku was sure that he had heeded that voice before but he could not place it.
“You will never have the strength to wield its power.” The old man warned.
“Well, it’s a good thing than that I don’t need to.” The other man answered and then Riku heard a terrible cry, like the naked howl of a starved animal, more appalling then any awful banshee terror filed shriek that you might encounter in the worst of your night terrors.
Riku's blood ran cold in his veins as he listened to his father scream and then there was nothing, dead silence, as if all life succumbed to death.
Riku held his breath, perhaps, he hoped, the trespassers had left the cabin.
He was just about to push against the cellar door when the smug voice returned, closer than ever.
“Search the place,” He ordered, “Kill anyone else here that you might find, and then burn this place to the ground.” Riku gasped, surely, he did not mean what he said, his father… Then, before he could wallow in his thoughts further the stink of smoke and burned flesh breached his nostrils, his father was dead.
Riku held tightly to the pages entrusted to him by his father, he pushed himself away from the now singed wood door and down the tunnel, leading him further into the mountain and away from the life he knew.
Soon the scent of grass and the sound of the river reached his ears. He toppled to the cold ground, pulled himself to his feet and ran until his legs had given out from underneath him and he fell, breathless into the dirt. He lay there, clutching the pages to his chest, the night sky spread before him. So peaceful, he thought, the stars would never know the horrors he faced.  
In that moment he comprehended that he will never go back to that place, he would not have the chance to bury his father with dignity.
Morning creped on him unnoticed and as the sun greeted him with its first rays of light it found Riku standing and watching the tall column of smoke rise up as everything he knew burned to the ground.

Miles away at the edge of a large lake, in an estate too modern for the times it was built at the egotistical gentlemen returned to the adversary that sent him, bearing the plunder he had stolen from the man he watched die.
“Do you have it?” The menacing voice asked as he entered the dark chamber containing the fowl creature. “Yes, everything is here.” The refined man shuddered as he laid the three ruby set wooden cases in front of the grotesquely deviating creature's feet.
“Open it.” The creature ordered. “I…” the elegant man gulped, struggling to maintain his composure. “I cannot…” He screamed in agony as the monster’s angered shriek nearly knocked him senseless.
“We need to find the child!” The man cried out through the torment. “Please! It is meant for the child!”
The fiend shrieked again. “Get it done!” It ordered. “Yes…”The man scrambled to his feet and bowed. “Yes…the first children will be arriving tomorrow.”
He departed in a hurry; he couldn’t stand being alone with that being at the same room for long.
The demon had promised him everything he ever wanted but it did not reveal to him at what terrible cost he would be granted the earthly possessions and power he desired and what he was stand to lose.

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Snow covered the ones green hills. A blizzard wails outside as everyone now bound to their homes.
Kiera pressed her nose against the huge gothic arched windows in the throne room. Frost covered most of the glass, painting on it elaborate pictures of swirling shapes that glittered like diamonds
Kiera used her sleeve to wipe away some of the frost and the valley spread underneath the castle was ones again visible to her eyes.
She watched the homes billow, covered in snow, each with flickering lights from a warm fire and smoke coming out of their chimneys, mingles in the white snow.
“What are you looking for?”
Kiera turned away from the glass towards Vincent who was sitting on the throne, one of his legs over the arm chair and the other one dangles in the air. He was looking at her while he twirled the diadem in his hand, throwing it occasionally into the air and bouncing it of his foot.
“You know, I really don’t think that’s the proper use of a diadem.” Kiera smirked, looking back down into the valley. “I never seen so much snow comes down this early in the year, have you?”
Vincent had stopped playing with the circlet and instead laid it on his head, tipped to the side like a jester’s hat.
“Better?” he asked as he jumped off the throne and came to the window where she stood.
“Much.” Kiera laughed as he wrapped one arm around her and looked down into the valley as well.
“This is our coldest winter yet.” He remarked. “I’ve never seen the valley so white before as well.” He agreed.
“Any word from Deidra?” Kiera asked, leaning back against his body.
“No. as far as I know she’s hauled up in the estate father had granted her, hasn’t heard from her in months, and can’t say I am too broken up about it. But enough about her.”
He looked down and tipped Kiera back and kissed her. Kiera spun and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss she refused to let him go even when he started tickling her.
“Vincent!” Kiera shrieked.
A loud thumb echoed through the throne chamber as the wooden doors were swung open.
“Agh…” Kiera reluctantly let Vincent go and glanced over to the entryway where Greg stood, panting.
“Is this going to be your thing now?” Vincent asked, fixing the diadem on his head. “Interrupting us?” He asked half smiling but Greg apparently did not share the joke.
“Fire.” He breathed out. “The armory in the valley was set ablaze!”
“What?!” Vincent glanced down from the window but he knew he couldn’t see anything clearly because of the gale.
“Sound the alarm!” He ordered turning to Kiera. “I’ve got to go down there!”
Greg nodded briefly and ran back out of the chamber.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Kiera asked concerned, grabbing Vincent’s hand before he had a chance to run out after his brother.
“No!” Vincent stroked her face and kissed her. “Send a messenger to the infirmary, we might have casualties and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Kiera frowned. “I can’t do my job when I’m worried about you.” Vincent let out a sigh. Then he extracted his hand from her grip and hastily followed his brother.

“Have you found the culprit responsible for this mayhem?!” The gust had picked up when Vincent and Gregory arrived at the armory. In the distance the chime of alarm rang through the valley and the stronghold guards mounted on black stallions were using their elemental ability’s to direct the snow towards the blaze.
Vincent reached his arms up towards the frozen waters of the rapids; he felt in his gut the roil of power, griping might that pulled at the very essence of his élan vital and erupted from his veins.
The river burst, the crystal clear waters rained upon the fire and slowly began to extinguish it. White smoke filled the air as water battled fire. Vincent struggled to contain the rivers full force within him; he felt it take a toll on his psych. His head began throbbing in pain and his eyes burned. He took a knee, his stance faltering and in that instant Gregory was at his side on the ground, his arm propped against Vincent’s back and together with the help of their guard they navigated the full force of the river onto the blaze, dousing it until it was no more.  
The crowd that gathered to help cheered the prince’s accomplishment thinking that the peril had been averted.
“Are you all right?” Gregory helped Vincent up. “You’re bleeding.” He said, handing his brother a piece of linen cloth he pulled from his tunic. Vincent blinked and put the cloth to his nose, removing it to find it stained with blood.
“I’m fine.” Vincent breathed out. “I’m just not used to using my ability in this capacity.” Gregory smirked. “Well, if you are going to be our new king you better learn fast little brother.”
Vincent leaned back against a nearby tree trunk. “I never wanted to…”
“Sire! Look out!” A black arrow whistled too close to Vincent’s ear and Gregory pulled his brother down.
“Who’s shooting at us?!” He howled, enraged. “Vince! Watch out!” Several black clothed figures with krampus like masks covering their faces emerged from behind the trees.
“Sire!” One of the guards cast Vincent a sword he caught on the fly and imminently swung up, slicing the assassin that had just dropped on top of him from the tree he stood under.
“After them! “ He ordered. “Don’t let them get away!”
Several more black clothed figures rose up from behind the trees and fled.
Vincent’s guards gave chase after the bandits while Vincent and Gregory turned to the one Vincent had just struck down.
“Who are you?” Vincent crouched down next to the barely breathing assassin he struck down to the ground. His red blood stained the sooth covered snow. Vincent tore the krampus mask from his face and threw it aside.
“Who are you?! Who sent you?! Tell me before you die!” Vincent demanded.
He grabbed the collar of the man before him and shook him viciously but no voice came out of him, just a gurgled sound as he drowned in his own blood.  
“A human!” Gregory breathed out, inspecting the face of the assassin.
“Thugs for hire.” Vincent spat, heaving the lifeless body into the dirt.
There hasn’t been a sighting of a human mercenary in these parts for decades!”
“They wouldn’t travel this far north for nothing.” Vincent looked at the krampus mask that was now partially covered in soil. “Someone is paying these savage monsters and I am going to find out whom!”

“The new sovereign seems to be coming into his abilities faster than we anticipated.” Deidra dismissed with a wave of her hand the leader of the human mercenaries that had been crouched on his knees before her.
He bowed to her and got up, barking towards his men to follow him out.
Deidra smiled.
Although he did not come back with the new álfur monarch as she instructed him to do, he did bring back a piece of valuable information for her.
His men had lost the royal guards in the black woods, sneaking away in the cover of darkness. In the initial encounter one of them was struck down and injured but his comrades had disposed of him quickly to avoid detection. That is what Deidra most loved about these humans. They had no allegiance but to hard cold precious stones.
“And to think I grew up with that brat. I should have killed him in his sleep when he was a boy.”
Deidra turned towards the stone mental behind her. She blew on to the coals and set them on fire, marveling in the sight of the orange flames.
“Calm yourself daughter.” Dokkalfar moved a glass chess piece across the board of marble he was sitting by.
“We shall have another chance to get him. If I know our young ruler well enough he won’t let himself be confined to the constant watch of the royal guard. All we have to do is be patient and when he gets comfortable and think the danger had passed and when he least expects it…” He struck down the chess piece of the king, shattering it into tiny fragments. “We will have him in our grasp.”
He laughed.


“As much as I love winter I just adore this place when it’s in bloom.” Kiera leaned down and took in with a deep breath the wonderful fragrance of the blue roses that bloomed from the bushes covering the road leading out of the castle.
The cold winter had ran its course and brought in its wake all the marvelous colors of spring. The armory that had been damaged by the fire was almost completely rebuilt and those human assassins were not seen again since.
All throughout the long winter months Vincent had been sending parties of armed scouts into the surrounding woods of the city to look for the hired guns that attacked him.
To Kiera’s dismay and to the protest of both his captain of the guards and Gregory too many times Vincent had joined their search, causing Kiera a great deal of worry but none were ever found.
It seemed that just like the snow they too had somehow managed to simply dissolve into thin air.
Kiera straightened up and put her hands on her hips, looking around her.
“I beat you this time!” She announced loudly into the air.
“Not quiet.”
A voice filled with glee answered from somewhere above her head.
Kiera span around, looked up and her jaw dropped in astonishment to see Vincent perched on one of the ancient coulombs, a crimson rose in his hand.
“Oh my love, you gloated a little too soon. I told you I could not be defeated.”
He laughed, throwing her the rose. She caught it and glared up at him. “Two out of three!” She demanded. He laughed again and looked down the road.
From up here he could see the beauty of the land spread out as far as the eye could see.
The ancient coulombs with the thin thorns wrapped around them like skeletal hands crawling out from beneath the dirt. The rose bushes blooming by the low wall leading from the castle to an iron gate, its metal bent to look like vines curved in intrigued forms.
And beyond the gate the stream and the trees with their branches kissing the water and their leafs casting a shadow on the flowers growing wild and beautiful in all colors of the spectrum.
‘This is my home’. Vincent thought. ‘I’ve bloomed and grew in these gardens.
These ancient stones are as much a part of me as my bones. The vines of the roses are my veins, the wind gently steering the grass is my soul singing.
I could never imagine myself being anywhere else.’
“You cheated!” Kiera declared. “How did you get here so fast?!”
Vincent smirked. “You always need to know who you are up against my love. Also the time to challenge someone may just be the key to defeat or victory. Next time I suggest you try challenging me right after a big meal. My honor will oblige me to accept the challenge, but my belly will sure be at your favor and force me to roll slowly behind you. “He winked.
Kiera laughed. “Well, it was your idea to train me, if you are over it I will be quite content to go back to our chambers and have a little more fun indulging in other activities.”
Vincent smiled and leaped from the top of the column to Kiera’s sudden gasp.
Vincent laughed as he landed right in front of her. “Oh my little doll.” He said, kissing her.
“I could never refuse to an offer like that.”
Kiera wrapped her arms around him to deepen the kiss but right before Vince closed his eyes to oblige her, a movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention.
“Kiera.” He said in an even tone. “Run.”
“What?” Kiera blinked at him, starting to turn her head back but Vince caught her face between his palms and made her look at him.
“Run back to the castle and call the guards, then stay in the castle until I come back. We are not alone.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, he could feel eyes set on him from behind the trees.
“But…” Kiera tried to protest but Vincent hushed her with a kiss. “Remember what we agreed on? In case of danger if we are ever caught on our own, you run. I cannot fight and worry about you at the same time.”
Kiera pouted, her lips taking the shape of a thin line but then she nodded briefly and took off up the road, back the way that lead to the castle.
Vincent watched her run and when he was satisfied she was a long way away his gaze darkened and he turned towards the trees, their branches cast a menacing a shadow across his face. Vincent felt the air shift, suddenly it became colder and the shadows grew as if reaching towards him.
“C’mon then!” He shouted as the wind began to blow. “I know you are out there!”
He looked around him, expecting a sneak attack. “I can feel you.” He said in a low roar.
“Brave little king.” Vincent tensed as he heard a flat threatening voice coming from several directions. “Or stupid.”
The blow from above came as of no big surprise to Vincent, he side stepped and clanked the mask wearing assassin on his head with his elbow, clasping the sword from the unconscious man’s hand as he went down.
“Huh!” Vincent raised the sword and the sound of it hitting the metal of another sword rang through the air. Vincent summersaulted back and stricken down another mortal who appeared from behind the trees. The man that stood in front of him took off his krampus mask and grinned at him with his scared place.
“What are you doing in my land?” Vincent questioned, his sword raised.
“Who paid you to attack me?” He snarled.
“You will soon find out blue-blood.” The one with the scared face, most likely the leader whistled and out from the darkness of obscurity they came, dozens of men wearing all black with their faces covered with krampus masks.
The scared man barked a command Vincent did not understand but in a swift motion they surrounded him. With their swords unsheathed they bore upon him from every direction and as hard as Vincent fought he could not stand against all of them at once. He was enclosed by adversaries and in a split moment of miscalculation someone had managed to strike the back of his knees, flattening him to the ground.
The sword flew out of his grasp and the next thing Vincent knew he was down on his knees, his long hair in the grip of the scared man and a sword fixed on his neck.
“What do you want?!” Vincent growled, attempting to break free from the hold of his captors but two of the mortals had his arms banded back and every movement he struggle to make only caused him pain.
“Oh, it is not what they want.”
Vincent’s eyes opened in bewilderment. He knew that voice.
“It’s what I want.” Deidra came strolling out of the thicket, a large timeworn tome in her hands.
“Deidra!” Vincent tried to launch at her but he was only pulled back, the scared man pulling at his hair so hard Vincent was sure he was going to pull it out with his scalp in tow.
“I should have known.” Vincent felt very foolish at that moment. All of a sudden all of the unsorted chips in his head had started to fall into place. “You were the one to poison our father!” He stated. Sure of the answer with rage in his eyes.
“Your father.” Deidra corrected. “And no. that was the work of my true predecessor.”
“And who is that?” Vince sneered at her.
“That is for me to know and for you to never find out.” Deidra laughed.
“You traitor!” Vincent screamed. “We took you in! You were like family! How could you do this to him?!”
“Oh please.” Deidra brushed her hair back. “You never seen me as family Vincent and besides it was never personal.”
“What was it then?”
“A means to an end. In this case the end is power. Great power that I was unjustly denied by your father. But,” She fanned herself in a lady like fashion and winked at him.
“All is right with my world ones more as now I don’t need that ancient cretin to crown me. I can cease the throne for myself and you can share in my fortune.”
“What are you talking about?” Vincent narrowed his eyes.
“I am offering you this one time only chance dearie.” Deidra smiled. “Join me and we can rule together as equals.”
“Ha!” Vincent grimaced. “In case you haven’t noticed, you tart.” He spat. “I am betrothed to another and oh yeah, you want another reason? You are certifiably deranged!”
“Suit yourself.” Deidra shrugged and stepped closer. “I thought we were going to do it the easy way but the hard way worked just fine for me.”
She opened the age-old manuscript and closed the gap between them.
With the hired thugs still holding him down Deidra put her hand on Vincent’s Forehead, slashing his skin with her sharp claw like nails.
“What are you doing!?” Vincent trashed in his endeavor to pull back from her but Deidra ignored him, putting her fingers to her lips and tasting his blood she began to chant.
Old words, ancient like the sands of time rang through the air.
Old words hollowed through his mind. The sun was concealed in darkness in his eyes and day became night.
Vincent observed the trees fall with their roots sticking like dead hands out of the ground, he witnessed the rosses and the grass wither and die , he watched as his castle fell into ruins and stones marking his beloved erected in the middle of the abandoned court yard.
Vincent’s eyes rolled back in his head, a white tint covered his skin, his lips turned blue, his hair grew alabaster, his body convulsed, and he no longer knew what was real and what wasn’t and the words, the endless surge of archaic dead words brim his mind.
He knew that voice! It haunted him in my sleep; it rang as clear as a bell in his ears.
The voice from a dream he was sure he had long forgotten.
And then he was free, his body felt light but he could not open his eyes.
With nothing keeping him up he collapsed to the ground.
He didn’t know that Kiera had reached the castle and now she was back with reinforcement in the place of danger even though he told her not to come back until he came to find her.
He didn’t know that Gregory had used his powers to force the waters of the river to coerce his captors away from Vincent when they were least on their guard.
He didn’t see the bloody fight that ensued and Deidra swearing enraged and dissipating in a bright orange flame.
All he knew is that he couldn’t open his eyes.
He couldn’t move and the darkness, the cold darkness had claimed him.
Ragnarok - Chapter 2
Second chapter to a well overdo story. i would love for your feedback. it spins a tale of love war deception and fear over the centuries. i hope that you'll find it different and odd and most of all, Enjoy.
You can read the first chapter here:…
first chapter to a well overdo story. i would love for your feedback. it spins a tale of love war deception and fear over the centuries. i hope that you'll find it different and odd and most of all, Enjoy.
Ragnarok- Chapter 1
first chapter to a well overdo story. i would love for your feedback. it spins a tale of love war deception and fear over the centuries. i hope that you'll find it different and odd and most of all, Enjoy.
Second chapter:…


A story spinning the tale of the lives of two star crossed lovers over the centuries , through magic, loss, suffering and cruelty by forces determined to keep them apart while destiny strives to keep them together.

I'm falling.
I'm soaring through the air. The wind is blowing into my face. My eyes start to water but I do not close them. I want to see this.
The green leaves of the trees are passing me by. The ground is getting closer.
I'm falling.
My arms are heavy at my sides. I make no attempt to stop my impact with the concrete.
I lay there on the searing black ground and I can't move. Pain invades my senses; I feel that I hurt from the inside out. Not from the bones that I must have shattered but from something much deeper than that.
This pain, I've been hurting for a long while, from a pit that was ripped out inside of my heart.
My limbs refuse to move now and I can only look up at the sky.
The clouds pass slowly overhead; the rustles in the green trees are music to my ears.
I see the dark roof tower over me. The same roof I was just standing on. A moment ago, a lifetime ago I fell, I jumped. Why would I do that?
Why can't I remember what brought me up there? My eyelids are closing of their own accord, it feels so peaceful. The sun is shining into my eyes, blinding me and I have no strength to fight to keep them open. I feel the patches of light that are gleaming through the trees on my skin .I need to know what brought me up there. Why can't I remember?
This thundering pain in my heart, a gaping hole I cannot fill. A loss, I'm sure of it.
A terrible loss had brought me up there.
My senses are getting duller; I can't open my eyes at all anymore. Nothing exists but the darkness and the rustling leaves in the evergreen trees. And the sun, the scorching sun with its bright burning light that force its way beyond the leaves to caress my broken body.

Reykjavik, Capital Region, Iceland
1600 B.C.

That voice! I know that voice! It haunts me in my sleep; it rings as clear as a bell in my ear. I must be dreaming.
That voice again. She's smiling. I know this for sure, I don't even need to look up to see. I know she is smiling down at me, I can hear the glee in her voice.
"Vincent! Wake up! "She's persistent, the little creature. “Vince! Come play with me! I'm so bored!" I can hear that she is trying to pout but she is still smiling.
I feel her lips brush against mine, and her hair tickling my skin as she leans over me.
"Doll...sleep now..." I mumble. I don't want to wake up and find her gone again.
I feel her tender fingers tracing lines on my skin, down my belly and then she kisses me again.
She leans back and I can smell the air now. Fresh, clear of the smog of the city.
A fog has lifted from my mind and I can smell the fragrance of the flowers around us.
I can smell the fresh grass after a spring rain that I now lay on.
Roses. Her favorite flowers. I can imagine their blood red bloom.
I do not know how I know this but a flash of what must be a memory invades my mind. I see us at the lake, a full moon reflected in its crystal blue waters.
I can hear the small waterfalls rustle through the growing trees on the closest bank of the wide lake that dip their long overgrown branches into the water as if leaning to quench their thirst.
And I see her, she's leaning forward towards the water like those evergreen trees and for a moment I fear that she might fall in, she is so clumsy...
How do I know that with such certainty? I frown at my sudden sharp knowledge about her and I open my mouth to speak, to warn her but then she leans back and looks at me and I give her my hand to help her up.
"Oh! It's so beautiful!" She said as she accepts the rose I wasn't aware I was offering to her. She puts the rose to her face and takes a deep breath with her eyes closed and I can see the rose I gave her is a blue rose, pale and radiant in the light of the moon that bathed the earth in its magical glow.
"I fear the day when magic runs out from this world and there will be no more blue roses." She says a sad tone in her voice.
"That will never happen." I assure her. "The blue moon rose is the symbol of my family." I tell her proudly. "I will never let it disappear from this world. I promise you that."
She smiles. I pull her closer to me. I am at least a head and a half taller than her, my little doll… I think that's how I'm used to call her...and she calls me ‘my beautiful love.' I’m certain. She says it now, she's smiling.
I look down into that face that smiles up at me, her arms wrapped around my body. I look into those big green eyes and I lean down to kiss her.
"Your lips are so soft..." she murmurs against mine.
My eyes snap open and I look up. That was not Kiera's voice.
Kiera...I'm sure I just had a dream about her but I can't remember it now. I see now that I had my head resting in her lap as I slept, must have fallen asleep while she was playing with my hair, I think she loves it more than I do.
"Vincent." I look towards the source of the annoyed voice.
My big brother, Gregory, of course, who else to ruin what looks to be a perfect quiet afternoon by the lake?
"Vincent!" Gregory says sternly as he comes to a halt a few meters away from us, looking down at me with those dark eyes of his. "I've been looking everywhere for you little brother."
"Don't call me little brother." I growl, pulling myself up from the comfort of Kiera's arms and the soft green grass I was laying on. "Age means nothing to us Greg." I say as I stretch my body, throwing my long black hair back.
I brush some stray leaves from my black cotton robe and leave it open over my loose trousers.
With bare feet I make my way to the edge of the clear water of the lake.
Is that really me? It takes me a fragment of a second to recognize my own reflection.
I think it was still that powerful dream that haunted my thoughts and there I know I looked different then I do in real life.
Falling...I was falling...a flash of my grief stricken face flashed in the line of my vision as I flew by those glass windows.
I shake my head; I do not want to remember that awful dream.
I wipe the sleep from my eyes and look into the water and my honey gold eyes stare back at me.
There I am. My Sharp edged ears react to the slightest shift in the air, my long black hair moves gracefully in the cool wind of the end of summer.
I kneel by the water and spray my creamy white skin with crystal clear water.
I smile as I run my fingers along the thin braid Kiera had woven into my hair, she always does that.  
I look at my brother. As children we resembled each other a great deal, some even speculated us to be twins but now I grew taller than he did and his once dark hair grew lighter than mine, the result of decades in the sunlight.
All those early hours outside, curving in wood in the courtyard, his most coveted pastime, I could never bring myself to be out in the sun for so long.
"What do you want Greg?" I ask a little too unkindly. "I thought you are seating with the council in fathers absence."
"I was." Gregory, my 'older' brother looks briefly at the ground. Is he avoiding my eyes? I can always read him pretty easily. I straighten up and look him over.
He wears the golden robes of our father, the king.
He has recently taken his place on the throne while our father fell ill.
His ailment is the talk of the kingdom.
I hate that.
My brother and the high council did what they could to keep the news of my father's ailment under wraps but at court no one is immune to gossip, not even the king himself.
My father on the other hand should have been immune to anything else.
It is not uncommon for an elder from our people to slowly let his body fade and his soul reborn in the thaumaturgy of the blue roses that sustain our world’s delicate balance but these were the most ancient of us that returned their essence to the earth, the devout centuries old álfur who saw this world reborn from ash and ice and grew tired by its many changes.
That was not the kind of álfur my father was. The kind of force of nature that I know him to be.
I'm almost certain that that what it was that put my father on his sick bed.
I have not yet revealed my suspicions to anyone, not even to my beloved Kiera.
I will not worry them until I have my solid proof and not until I take real steps towards flashing out the traitor who caused my father’s ailment.
"The council wishes for you to be present in all future meetings and debates concerning the future of our people brother." Greg tells me and I know he can see from my expression exactly what I think about attending those sleep inducing meetings.
"What future?" I almost growl. "We are immortal Greg. We will continue be as we are and always were until we choose to return our spirit to the earth but between you and me I do not see myself ever finding a reason to do so."
Greg sighs visibly and over dramatically for having to deal with me, his unruly little brother.
"Just come to the meeting." He asked in a tired voice, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Fine." I agree. Anything to rid me of these boring state matters as soon as I can manage it. Anything I can do to get me back into the arms of my beloved.
I flinch. He smiles. The fiend. But I can't help myself from smiling too.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Kiera asks me.
I turn to her and pull her against me; I didn't even hear her approach.
She is one of the only redhead álfurs I know and I love it. She looks small against me but her petite size is a complete contrast to her huge personality. She has green eyes and a full hour glass figure. She wears a dress I had made for her. An ever after gown in black and red lace with beaded scalloped sparkle laces trim.
I smile. I can be myself around her. And frankly I can't get enough of her.
I don’t tell her that often enough
"Yeah." I say after a while. My first instinct was to tell her "No.” but I know how much she hates not to be included in what she considers as important events in my life as I am sure she will consider this dreaded council meeting to be.
I take Kiera's hand and together we follow my brother up the dirt path under the low hanging branches of the ever green trees that line the road.
We come out of the green and step onto the stone path that leads up to the castle.
On my right I can see my kingdom spread billow us.
The beautiful colorful hills filled with rich fruit trees and all the imaginable flowers. The great river that snakes between the picture perfect cottages and the line of the black ocean cuts dark between the far away mountains whose tops always covered in the most brilliant white snow.  
I can hear the great waterfalls that rush into the valley beneath us and I think that I would rather dive off the great cliffs of Reykjavik, my beloved city as I have done as a younger álfur and explore the bottomless deep of the crystal clear waters than attend that ' all important ' meeting. Ah Reykjavik. ‘Smoke deviation’ in the common tongue and so it was, its core established far greater than the accepted standards of the known world.
Greg leads us up the long stone steps of the horses' entry to the castle.
I know that it is the fastest way to get to the council chamber but it means that we would have to go through the inner courtyard and that means I'll have to endure the gossiping mass of the courts elite staring at me while they bow to my face and whisper behind my back.
Kiera tightens her grip on my hand and confidently moves us through the crowd.
I nod politely at the bows and the curtsies of the high lords and maidens that dwell at the courtyard, enjoying the light of the sun.
I look at them; some are seated comfortably atop the built red sand stone benches erected from the flower covered ground. They wear an assortment of lightly colored fabrics that grace their creamy skin as if the fabric itself was made of fog and wind and nearly everyone are bare foot. The earth gives us potency; nature gives us everlasting life. Wine and summer fruits are served freely and sweet harp music strummed by the skilled hands of the lesser álfur, the fey kind can be heard all around the yard.
In all my days, five hundred years by the account of this world our land had never suffered a drought.
Our castle, like the roads that lead to it and the base of our homes is made of the most brilliant black stone. As younger álfur both I and Greg loved exploring the mines of blue diamonds and the quarries that produced the black stone. A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I remember my mother protesting loudly when we would return to the castle, our once white robes covered in black soot.
"That is not the way the prince’s should act!" she would always say.
I never was one to be all proper.
Manual labors never bother either of us and I take pride in the fact that I had greatly contributed to the construction of the west wing of the castle in which me and Kiera now reside.
I take a deep breath as we slip through the gushing crowd up the spiral staircase on the other side of the yard.
We come out at the end of a long narrow hallway. As we quicken our pace to pass through I can feel the heat from the furnaces of the kitchen located on the other side of the wall.
This place serves us well in the winter nights when the wind is howling outside and the frost paints brilliant paintings on the glass stained windows. The narrow hall is doted by beautifully decorated alcoves carved into the walls. Cold had never bothered me but numerous times in the past I would find Kiera here, proper against the silk pillows in one of the alcoves, reading an ancient book that she would haul here from our enormous library.
We arrive at the end of the hallway and descend another flight of stairs that leads us to an open room boarded by high arches. The walls are decorated with my families’ crest, a blue rose guarded by two great serpents.
Our legends say that the two serpents are lovers entwined as one. They roamed the world lonely, searching for the blue rose that would bring them love and happiness not knowing that the blue rose is never found, it is created and when they found each other they forgot they ever needed it.
Centuries later when both lovers passed their eternal love bloomed as the first real blue rose bringing sortilege and prosperity into this kingdom.
According to legend this was the place where they finally found each other.
Dark thoughts cloud my mind. I fear that the serpents are no longer protecting us.
For some time now the feeling of dread had nestled in my heart.
I fear to discover my suspicions to be true, that someone had manipulated the good craft that sustains our kingdom for evil.
The sound of loud voices all speaking in unison snaps me back from my dark thoughts. Gregory had opened the heavy wooden doors that led into the council chambers.
We step onto the podium surrounded by grey ancient álfur lords in red robes embroider by gold.
I am a little surprised to see my father here, seated on his throne in the middle of the room right in front of us.
A throne that gave the impression that it grew from the earth itself.
Large roots sprouted from the ground, woven into serpents as armchairs to the king to rest his arms against and at his back our families sigil carved into the ancient wood.
I look at my father, he looks so shriveled in his enormous gold robes; I’ve never seen him appear so small. My mother stands beside him, looking at me with those worry filled eyes of hers, I know that she is expecting something big to happen. I suddenly feel that I was led into an ambush.
I turn to look at Kiera who took a seat by the podium; she too was looking at me with a bit of worry in her eyes but also expectation. Did everyone here know something I didn’t?
The wooden doors creaked open again and my adoptive sister, Deidra stepped into the room.
She looked at me with her dark brown eyes, wearing only the finest silks and in line with what I assumed were the latest fashions. Her corset was wound too tight around her waist and it gave her some curves to her otherwise flat figure. She threw her blond delicately curled hair over her shoulders and I felt the bile rise in my mouth.  
We were never too close. Father found her as an infant; someone had left her on the steps of the castle. We searched but her kin had never came forward to claim her and instead of finding her another family to look after her my father had listened to his old and ‘trusted’ adviser Dokkalfar, who now stood on his other side and whom I personally never trusted, to keep her as his own.
“So…” I cleared my throat, looking at my father, expecting him to be the one to speak but it is my mother who steps forward and she turns to look at the old lords rather then at me.
"My friends." She says. "We have come to a point we no longer able to conceal the king’s illness. Our people are worried and their worry brings gossip and instability.
The morals are running low. Our people are in desperate need for a strong leader."
I look at Gregory expecting him to take a step forward but he looks at me instead, his lips pursed in a tiny smile. "Oh no..." I think.
My mother’s voice cuts through my worry. "...and the situation had driven us to seek for an immediate solution. A leader that can take the kings place in his absents, my son, Vincenzo’s."
I let out a small "Shit." and the room explodes with voices. Some shout that I am not ready and I couldn’t agree more with their view of me. Some claim that this is a marvelous idea and I silently begin to compile a list of those old farts to strangle them in their sleep later.
Kiera gets up and takes my hand, tightens her grip as if to strengthen me in accepting the pot I had no desire to fill.
I whip my head towards the source of the voice and I am almost baffled to see my father standing, frail as he is but mighty none the less.
The room falls silent to his order and I’m sure will hang closely to every word he will breathe next.
“I gave a great deal of thought to the matter.” He nearly whispers. “And I had come to only one suitable conclusion. One of my sons should rule our kingdom in my absence.”
“But father…” Deidra opens her mouth to speak before I have a chance to do the same.
“Hush, child.” My father turns to her. “As much as I care for you as if you were my own I do not believe you are suited for the job. You have a great deal to learn before you assume any real responsibility and you shall be given a proper patch of land and estate to govern until you shall learn to do just that. “
Deidra did not look happy at his statement and I could see she was biting her lip to stop herself from letting out a vicious response.
“But what about Gregory? Isn’t he the one that should be our lord while you are away? He is the eldest son after all.”
I finally manage to find my words over the shock I was feeling.
I could practically sense the rage that seethed from Deidra; I know she feels she was passed on with no great thought to the matter. I can’t say I feel too bad for her, I never did like her that much. She reminded me too much of Dokkalfar.
“We shall discuss it in private.” I hear my father say. “Meeting adjourned. “
I watched the old lords pile out of the council chamber to return to their duties, whatever they may have been. Some of them threw unsure glances in my direction and others simply bowed to my father and left but I knew that as soon as any of them were out of sight and ear shot they would definitely have plenty to say.
I waited until the room was empty except for my family, Deidra and Kiera and then I turned to my father.
“You can’t be serious about this.” I exclaimed. “Why me? Gregory is next in line for the throne! I have no desire for leadership”
“Gregory is a man of the pen, of words and matters of state but he is no warrior. Our people need to see someone gallant at the helm, strong in body and spirit, someone they can easily rally behind.” My mother says and I feel bitterness in my mouth, I always feel she thinks too highly of me.  
“Your father is very ill.” My mother continues, as if I didn’t know that already. “More than we had led anyone to believe. We are leaving Reykjavik to look for the first blue rose.” That statement had caught me by surprise.
“But it is but a legend!” Deidra exclaimed before I could say anything else. She looked frightened and was that annoyance I detected in her features?
“As much as I hate to agree father, Deidra might have a point.” Gregory stated uneasily.
“It is not just a mere legend.” My father protested in his week voice. “Whispers had come to our ears from the east, travelers and explorers telling of a great mountain and at the top two giant stone serpents entwined as one and a hidden cave between them. No creature or álfur was brave enough to scale that plunging darkness but I must try my son, it seems that that is my only hope.”
“It sounds like a fairy tale!” Deidra huffed. “Why do you believe such nonsense?” she demanded from my father and gulped when he turned to look at her, silencing her with his glance. “Would you rather I stay here and simply perish?” he demanded. Deidra did not answer, her face turned red and she promptly fixed her eyes on the ground, fiddling with her dress.
“Ï know it’s not ideal but we must try. “ My mother came up to me and caressed my cheek. My mother, forever an optimist, she and Kiera were similar in that aspect.
I looked her over. She was wearing a light green Gwendolyn dress with silver trim and a half transparent veil covered her wood colored hair. My mother, she never gave up and she was a hands-on kind of álfur. I knew that I should not extinguish the hope that burned in her eyes.  
They left that night, leaving me in charge of the kingdom with Gregory as my right hand. Greg called another meeting the next day to properly prepare the elders for my official station and I couldn’t really find a place for myself remote enough to hide.
Little did I know that while I was brooding in my chambers with Kiera as always by my side, positive and reassuring me at my own strength to take the lead someone else in the castle was not so happy about the latest development more than I were.
I taking the crown was not an arrangement she was glad with at all.

“We failed!”
Deidra announced as she kicked her way into the great library, slamming the door behind her as she walked in.
“They gave the control over the kingdom to that young brute! Now what are you going to do old man?! All of these years of planning…wasted!” She grabbed a book from the nearest shelf and hurled it to the other side of the room.
“Hush child.” A deep voice answered her from the upper level of the library. “Is that any way to speak to your father?” Dokkalfar smiled down at her through the ornate wooden staircase.
He tucked the old book he was holding under his arm and in a glide like motion descended the staircase towards her.
“Your plan failed!” Deidra growled at him. “The old fool and his wife are off to find a cure and that brat is in my place at the throne!” Deidra grabbed and threw another book; this one flew right past her father’s face. “Putting me on their door step all those years ago didn’t quite amount to the result you hoped it would. Better luck next time.”
Dokkalfar’s smile cracked for a split second to reveal the true darkness of his features but he quickly regained his composure.
“All is not lost girl.” He said, circling her. “The king will never find the cure for my poison because there is none to be found.” He stroked his beard. “And as for the young prince…well, a pretty girl like you can definitely work her charm on him, I’m sure.”
Deidra smirked.
“We are not exactly on friendly terms father. “ She said, flipping her hair back. “He is all head over heels with that red head creature and I doubt that killing her would warm him up to me.”
“No.” Dokkalfar agreed.
“I should think not. But there are other ways to get what we want my child. “
“Enlighten me then. What are those ways old man?” Deidra asked in a mocking tone.
“Look here girl.” Dokkalfar laid the big book he was holding on a wooden stand and flipped it open.
Deidra leafed through the yellowing pages. This book was old, older than any other she had ever seen before in the library. Granted, she never did visit in there that much.
“I don’t understand…” Deidra looked up from the Illuminated manuscript at her father.
“What does this ancient book gives us?”
“It gives us a new plan. “ Dokkalfar smiled. “But first dear girl, we would require an army."
Ragnarok- Chapter 1
first chapter to a well overdo story. i would love for your feedback. it spins a tale of love war deception and fear over the centuries. i hope that you'll find it different and odd and most of all, Enjoy.
Second chapter:…


A story spinning the tale of the lives of two star crossed lovers over the centuries , through magic, loss, suffering and cruelty by forces determined to keep them apart while destiny strives to keep them together.



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karina novak
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Favourite genre of music: rock
Personal Quote: good luck with that

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Venom-V13 Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2016
Happy Birthday!!!! Fun cake birthday cake 
karinanovak Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2016   General Artist
Thank you so much :D
Venom-V13 Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2016
You're very welcome! ;)
SpaceShipEarth Featured By Owner Mar 18, 2016

Welcome to :iconliterature-anonymous:

karinanovak Featured By Owner Mar 18, 2016   General Artist
Happy to be here! :D
aleph31 Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2016
Hi karina (lowercase is ok?), welcome to ALL-ART-4-EVER! We are glad to see that you have joined us! :happybounce: Please do not hesitate to give us input about whatever aspect of the group you please, we are always open to new ideas and suggestions! :dummy:  I hope you enjoy being part of our artistic family, stay tuned to all the cool initiatives that we are promoting right now! (like mixers and a chat-room for instance)

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DaimoNxx Featured By Owner Sep 7, 2014
Yo! Karina:) (Smile)  
Venom-V13 Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2013
Happy Birthday!! ;)
karinanovak Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2013   General Artist
Thank you :D
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