Night is Coming

Prologue

I know... a terrible way to start a book but please keep in mind:

- to not attempt to copy, steal or "borrow" the plot or anything.

- this is my first book as well, so please don't judge too harshly :)

- I love you all, here...have a biscuit.

Things got weird quickly... Anyway without further ado (or is it adieu?) pls enjoy "Night is Coming".

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1965

"What do you see, Regentess?"

The witch Isabelle felt her ancestors' power course through her veins.

"I'm sorry..." She spoke solemnly.

It had taken a lot of effort to persuade the regentess to participate in the ritual. She spent hours squirming restlessly  in bed and crying a river. 

Every few years, Magic would be at its peak and the veil between this world to the next was at its thinnest. The regent and the regent only, could call upon the tremendous, awesome power. But there's a price. There always is.

Clutching her swollen belly, she prayed that her unborn child would be unharmed by the process.

This was it. She only had one chance to do this.

The rowdy villagers were restless and demanded that Isabelle contact the spirits. It was the spirits that determined their future, whether they lived or suffer the consequences of war. Curiosity had engulfed the people and they needed to know what was installed in their future.

Isabelle didn't want to risk any more lives.

The war was tearing the world apart and if there was no savior, soon earth would be devoid of life.

So Isabelle cocked her head backwards and the chant of possesion, electrified the air. At that second, the sky immediately darkened and thunderous clouds rolled in. A dense fog hovered above the ground and plagued the village.

BAM!

Lightning came upon the earthly plane whilst a tremor shook the ground. Everyone's attention flashed to the old willow tree currently pulsating with powerful ancient magic.

Buckets full of rain pounded on the small village. It's inhabitants had circled around the tree and chanted monotonously.

"Liscom tumurus, liscom tumurus ..."

Isabelle gulped large amounts of air as she felt magic's claws grasp her throat.

The ancestors were now within her body, and Isabelle could barely contain them. Her eyes flashed gold, burning like a raging fire.

Isabelle inhaled one large breath, and an unfamiliar voice, not of her own forced its way out of her throat.

The war will rage on and on,
For years it'll take many more souls.
When hope is lost and blood is shed,
A savior will come and make amends.
She will unite all four kingdoms.
Wolf, vampire, fae and witch.

Sacrifices must be made,
For many enemies she shall make,
Death and life comes to play.
One dark prince to save the day.
For her power will never burn out,
For she is our hope or our destruction.

Her voice cracked and Isabelle felt the power subside. Glancing up, she saw eyes full of determination. She could barely stand let alone recall what happened.

Isabelle collapsed whilst everyone rushed to her aid.

"Tell me," Isabelle panted from exhaustion, "is my baby alright?"

Serenity, the local healer placed her hand over Isabelle's protruding belly. She nodded ever so slightly but Isabelle immediately felt relieved. She let out the long breath she held.

Despite all odds, the baby was still alive. Isabelle knew that one day, her child would become very powerful and courageous.

Aaaaaaaaah!

A scream broke out from the village followed by a kick and stumble. Everyone peered towards the village gates.

Out of nowhere, menacing beasts pranced out from the shadows, frightening everyone. Children cowered behind their parents who maintained their defensive stances.

"Wolf!" Serenity cried out.

Isabelle gasped in horror as a werewolf pranced onto Serenity, as if she was just a mouse.

Her screams were muffled by a large set of jaws, chomping down on her head. Blood trickled down the creature's jaw and it smirked to reveal a large set or pearly white teeth, sharpened to knives' end.

Isabelle froze in shock as she witnessed the brutal murder of her friend. Her eyes were wide in horror and she could not move a muscle. The werewolf howled into the night, signalling his acquaintances. 

Realizing that the werewolves were trespassing, the witches and warlocks of all nine covens began chanting. While bodies littered the fields and blood soaked into the no longer green grass, Isabelle struggled to flee. Her feet were growing heavier and heavier by the second and being pregnant did not help at all. 

"I have to get away, for my sake and the baby's!"  Isabelle thought.

The spell took a while to kick in which resulted in many fatalities as the werewolves worked fast to dispose of the witches. Screams tore though the madness, limbs were tossed aside in a bloody mess, entrails littered the ground... 

Then in a turn of events, the witches began to overpower the werewolves. The detransformation spell caused the werewolves to one by one collapse onto their paws and slowly retain human form.

Bones popped, howls of pain filled the air, ligaments stretched.

The witches were making a comeback. Well that's what they thought until...

"Mummy!" A child scream.

And there it was, the great fabled monster.