Mistress of Shadow

Prologue: Dark Horizons

The sun should have been shining, rising up in the sky in a red-hot ball of light. Yet it still remained unseen underneath the horizons. The two moons that usually shone in the night were also unaccounted for. This left the entire land shrouded in a absolute darkness.

Humans in every corner of this world shifted warily wherever they were, in their modest farm homes, extravagant castles, or even in the wilderness that stretched in between the two. This was a night their parents had warned them about. This was a night that the creatures of the dark were extra hungry.

It happened four times a year; on the equinoxes and the solstices. The sun refused to come up and the moons and stars denied the people down below their meagre light. It was the one of the times in the year that the beings that walked in the night could hunt in their best element.

The land of Aerith Iblis was entering into the most dreaded one of the all, the Solstice of the Winter Hunt. Freezing weather descended over the world, chilling the hearts of men and mortal beast. The creatures that were hunting smelt the fear.

Hands grasped the hilts of blades and knocked arrows to the strings of bows. Armies readied their soldiers and the men of the household were readied themselves to  defend their families. The Winter Hunt lasted but two days, yet the casualties caused took chunks out of the population each time. The creatures were powerful, cruel, and merciless; they were demons.

It was a war raged between mortals and immortals. One could go so far as to call it the battle between angels and demons.

These traditions of the immortal beings fueled the war, but the mortals could do nothing to stop them. It would lead to yet more bloodshed, so the only thing they could do is defend against the Hunts. It was a terrible, frightening time for the humans...

Deep within the land of the demons, where it was always cold, was a castle. It was nestled upon the highest peak in the land and was surrounded by a forest of evergreen trees. The trees’ branches were crystallised in slick ice and their needles seemed dark and brooding beneath layers of snow. Their emotions matched that of the castles, it would seem.

The castle was called Charstryx Arcium. It was made of some dark, unknown material that seemed the shed away any snow that came to  fall upon it. It possessed spires that came up into deadly sharp points and ramparts that would make any king blush with envy. Windows were made out of a deep orange glass, peering out of the black material like eyes.

There were many floors of this fortress, but one cannot go into exact descriptions and numbers, for many a trivial page may be taken up. The one floor that is important now is the throne room.

A throne room is usually on the very first floor. For Charstryx, this is not the case. It was on the very top floor so that the king could see all of his domain from the huge window that was put into the wall. It was open to the elements, as the certain king who resided there was impervious to cold.

Flurries of snow flew into the wind, landing gently upon the tall figure standing silhouetted against the window. His deep blue cloak fluttered in the wind like a pair of wings. His countenance was almost serene, with closed eyes and a slight smile that turned the corners of his lips.

He heard his hounds bark in anticipation of the Hunt.

The king’s nostrils flared, his ears perked up, and his mouth parted slightly, taking in the biting cold, the scents, and the sounds of the blizzard that swirled about him. His hands clenched into fists and loosened again; they longed for a sword, but tradition proclaimed that the Hunts were to be without weapons. Even he could not break that ancient rule.

The hounds started to howl, signalling the Solstice of the Winter Hunt had truly begun.

The king’s eyes snapped open.

Deep red eyes with slits for pupils peered out into the lightless night, searching for prey.