Conflicted Shadows

PROLOGUE

TRANCE- 506 A.D

It is believed by many foolish men that every living thing casts a shadow. To fire there is water, to light there is darkness and to gravity there is space. We are a shadow of another light, the afterimage of another existence.

It is believed that, when humanity came into existence, the universe realized that they had no shadow and so the three major shadows were given life: Victim, Orphan and Silver. Each shadow has a mate. When that mate is of human origin they may be reborn, however, they would be without all that made them who they were.

A new life, a new soul, destined to live in a new land...our land, Trance. Located where the light embraces the dark, we exist as myths in the minds of the blissfully ignorant mortals known as Humanity.

Victim became the father of the magical ones. Orphan became the father of the dark ones and Silver was to be known as the father of all man beasts.

For centuries, the three factions fought for complete dominion of all things that drew breath. War broke out.

Anarchy perverted the virgin air until the daylight skies were permanently shadowed with the blood vapours of the fallen.

Carnage laid itself lazily atop the soils upon which we depended.

Not even our oceans could seek haven from the violence, the suffering or the madness of war which gradually corrupted and infected all like the plague, leaving nothing but bloodshed in its wake.

The three classes fought relentlessly for superiority to no avail, accomplishing nothing but an overly enthused exhaust of our most powerful resources, our unity, our time - and our lives - until we were but a few who had long lost themselves to our ambition. War had taken all, leaving us with bitter fragmented minds and, in this confusion, a new enemy arose
.
The mortals took advantage of our weakened state, purging our hold from the world of man.

Victim was sealed away, and the other two primal ones vanished, never to be seen again. However, the humans were so kind that they spoke of us using their stories, daring not to forget the times in which we all walked side by side, though their walk was one of fear, doubt, desire and envy.

They continued to breathe our tales in literature, song and art to this day and many more to come all the while silently asking themselves, "Will the shadows of mankind return from darkness to dance around the light once more? When will the requiem of despair begin again?

The three grew weary of the war - or so it seemed. It was then the prophecy was born, "It will all end with a song.

"We are all a mere note on the staff. Beware the day the score is completed. That would be the day we all dance to the requiem of despair. Only one of the three..."

That was all I can remember. My twin brother looked at me intently, with adoration in his big possessive eyes.

Confusion hit my face like a brick as he watched me with the obsessed gaze of an owl tracking frolicking mice in anticipation, considering the most efficient way to achieve its goal: complete consumption.

How can he honestly expect me to be happy after the 'wonderful' knowledge we received? Knowledge which was now regurgitated vulgarly onto the once immaculate floorboards of my now screaming under-aged mind.

''You are to wed your brother in order to maintain the purity of our bloodline."

The words resonated within the marrow of my being, slaying the person I once was. In its wake was an aggressively profound sense of disgust in my heart. I stared blankly at my overjoyed brother to remember the "prophecy" he told me not so long ago.