Prologue

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A/N: This is the thrid time I've written this proloude. I would love to hear your thoughts on the story, so please don't be shy to comment or vote. 

Thanks for reading in advance and enjoy.

Prologue

~Date unknown~

“Die witch!” Jeered the crowed.
    “She-demon!”
    “How could you do this to humanity?! To your family?!” A women shouted.
    “Demon bringer!”
    “You could’ve killed us all!”
    “Pay for your bloody sin!”
    The royal guards clad in white and golden trim armor shoved their way through the crowed and pushed them back while a girl walked in between them. Her hands and feet were locked in shackles, the short white dress she wore was dirty and ripped, and her skin was covered in bleeding wounds and bruises. The angry crowed threw stones at the back of her head. She whimpered and tears streamed down her face. Her bare feet padded against the cold cobble stone street. This was it, these were her last moments of life listening to an angry crowed and nearly being stoned to death before her true death sentence was even carried out.
    They hated her. How could these people be so blind to the truth? How could they not see a girl who never meant harm? Couldn’t they see that they were being deceived by the very one they trusted?
    No, of course they couldn’t. Their minds had been toyed and tainted, unable to see the innocence of her and were only focused on one fact: the cross mark that she bared on her skin.
    The guards brought her up to the wooden platform in the middle of the plaza and she looked up at the prison tower, focusing her gaze on the top window where her friend was held.
    This was all her fault.
    How could she have been so stupid?
    So. . . .careless?
    The guards lead her over to the pole surrounded by hay and tied her to it. This was it.
    “Bring out the beast!” A guard cried.
    All heads turned as the castle gates opened. A large, flat wood cart rolled out with guards sounding it. Locked in chains, a beast struggled to get free. Its light blue scales glittered in the sun and its sapphire eyes shed tears. Chains laid over its snout, prevent it from speaking and its wings were held uncomfortably tight to its body.
    A man clade in royal regals came following behind. The jeering crowed suddenly silenced and bowed in respect. They stepped aside as the cart came into the plaza and the man stepped up onto the platform.
    “My people,” he spoke in a loud voice so all could hear, “today is tragic. A demon bringer was found amongst us.” He pointed to the girl. “Do not let her innocent look fool you”—he pointed to the beast—“here before you is a dragon that would’ve killed us on the command of this witch.”
    The dragon and the girl glared at him. The crowed muttered and nodded in agreement.
    “I tell you this now,” said the man, “as your king, I will do all I can to protect you from this evil influence. These creatures will be hunted and each of them will pay for this use of dark magic.”
    The crowed cheered.
    “Now,” said the king, “let this witch burn!”
    A guard tossed a touch into the hay and it lit aflame. The dragon moaned in pain as its watched its friend die. It thrashed against it chains, hopping to break free. But it couldn’t, it strength was waining quickly as the fires were killing its mistress.
    The crowed cheered as the flames started to rise and that black smoke hight the light blue sky. They were pleased that this demon and its witch was dying.
    “You will die one day.” The girl shouted at the king. “You will die!”
    “What a poor chose of last words.” The king calmly walked off the platform as the flames engulfed the girl and smiled at the empty threat.
    No one would kill him. No one could. He was the supreme being of all life. He was loved by his subjects. He lived this long and would continue to live till the end of time. He was practically a god and no one could kill a god. The world will soon bow to his very will.
    He gazed at the dragon, who in its final moments glared evil hatred at the king. The when the girl’s screams came to cease, the dragon’s eyes closed.
    It was dead.
    But the king didn’t like the look it held. In its eyes, one word could be clearly made out which annoyed him greatly.
    And that word. . . . .was traitor.

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