Prologue
Imagine how different the world could have been if supernatural beings had never existed. But who are we to pass judgment? Without magic, perhaps there would have been a lasting peace, but can we truly deny what flows in our very veins and resides in our very bones? Here, on the enigmatic island of Ashbrone, people coexist with mysteries that have no known origins.
Humans populated this island, though they were under the watchful eyes of the privileged and wealthy. The opulent estates of these individuals sprawled at the base of the magnificent Mount Eldham, a colossal presence at the island’s heart, its summit perpetually veiled by clouds. The inhabitants revered it, and in their fear, they dared not tread upon its hallowed ground.
These nobles and affluent residents were overseen by seven enigmatic leaders, each possessing abilities surpassing the comprehension of any living being. They dwelled in the shadows cast by the mountain, alongside their respective clans, guarding the island’s secrets. Each of them harbored a unique power. Yet, for all their might, they stood alone.
The question remained, who watched over these seven leaders? To this, no one held the answer. Among the seven was a particular clan, a reservoir of untapped strength, destined for supremacy but shrouded in misery. Their unmatched power was ruled by the strongest, yet, in the end, despair easily consumed them.
The tale commenced with the fracturing of the Moonscribe Clan, a moment that would alter the course of destiny. A juncture when a young boy, destined to perish, instead found himself alive.
They were both cherished and despised, but what led to their downfall? The answer eluded all who sought it. Ailwin Moonscribe’s survival was orchestrated by his mother, who whisked him away under the guardianship of an otherworldly entity. That island, paradoxically, became his sanctuary and his most grievous transgression.
This enigmatic isle, a mere legend among the people of Ashbrone, harbored two potent races: the Nobles and the Werewolves. Amid them dwelled the mightiest of supernatural entity, recognized as the Nobilis.
***
The day was bathed in sunlight, yet his heart bore a heavy weight. His blond locks were gathered neatly into a ponytail, and his black coat boasted a luxurious lining of gold. His eyes shone like exquisite violet gemstones. Walking gracefully alongside his parents, he couldn’t shake the deep longing for his sister, who remained at the castle, standing guard, while he yearned for her company on this journey.
The descent from the mountain had been completed, and now they made their way toward the docks. They were embarking on an expedition to seek out the elusive island, long believed to be a mere legend. Lord Kegin’s warriors had reported a sighting of this distant land in the northern expanse, prompting the decision to investigate.
His parents had assented to this quest, and although he pondered their motives, he never voiced his inquiries. He moved forward with a slow, deliberate pace, his thoughts swirling through his mind like restless spirits. His head was held high, and a simmering anger coursed through his veins. His father’s guidance had always revolved around standing firm, even in the face of potential sacrifice. They were taught never to bend or bow before anyone, a mantra etched deep in their hearts.
Throughout the past two decades, his father had been an elusive presence in his life. There were moments when he harbored a deep-seated resentment toward his father, yet he strived to unearth a semblance of love for him. His mother, on the other hand, had always been a source of warmth and playfulness. What had transpired in his father’s life to render him so heartless remained a mystery. As he gazed at himself, the golden circlet adorning his hair shimmered, and he lifted his head to offer a smile to his mother, who returned the affectionate look.
“We’ve arrived, Ochlissye,” his father announced to his mother but came to an abrupt halt.
“Let’s proceed, Elran. We mustn’t delay,” his mother responded, already making her way toward the awaiting ship. Ailwin followed closely, but his father barred his path with a raised arm.
“Ailwin, forgive me if I’ve ever erred,” his father began, his voice heavy with emotion. “But trust in my words. If you survive this journey, find a sanctuary where Kegin can never reach you. And above all...” Elran paused, his gaze fixed on a distant point, back toward the mountain.
“Above all what?” Ailwin demanded, but his father had already begun to retreat, concern etched on his face. Ailwin peered after his father, a growing sense of unease welling within him. It was indeed peculiar for his father to behave in such a manner. However, when he shifted his gaze to his mother, concern morphed into anger. She stared at his father with a heart-rending expression, and Ailwin clenched his fists, loathing the sight of grief upon her face.
His father returned as they boarded the ship, and the vessel prepared to depart. His visage bore a tumult of anger and anguish, but Ailwin chose to avert his gaze, focusing instead on the island as the ship gradually distanced itself from the land. As he watched the receding shore, his heart sank as he saw his sister sprinting towards the ship, her voice raised in a shout. Yet they were too far away to discern her words. The icy waters beckoned, urging him to jump in and swim back to her, but what of his father? When Ailwin turned around, he came to an abrupt standstill. His father’s eyes glistened with tears as he watched Thessalia Moonscribe’s desperate cries for them to return.
“Father?” Ailwin whispered to himself, but his father met his gaze, and tears rolled down his face.
“Shall we fall, must you rise with her, Son of the Moon, Daughter of Light. Shall we die, must you live, Son of Fire, Daughter of Blood. Shall the world burn, must you stay safe, Son of Light, Daughter of Lakes. Go and rest,” his father declared before turning and making his way below deck. Ailwin stood there, rooted in place, unable to move, his mind awash with questions about the meaning behind his father’s cryptic words.
Sleep eluded him, haunted by the memory of his father’s expression when he had witnessed Thessalia’s impassioned cries. Those enigmatic phrases lingered in his thoughts. Ailwin spent the majority of his time in his cabin below deck, distancing himself from the others on board. He sought solitude, emerging on deck for only a brief hour to gaze out over the expansive expanse of water.
“None shall step on Leran Entheas, for they shall never return,” a mysterious voice echoed through Ailwin’s slumber, jolting him awake. It was a voice he had never heard before. He cautiously left his room and discovered his father ascending to the upper deck. Ten days had passed, and they were yet to reach the island.
“Father, how much longer until we arrive?” Ailwin called after his father, prompting him to turn and face his son.
“Perhaps just a few more hours,” Elran replied, his tone tinged with uncertainty. However, he managed a reassuring smile before continuing on to the upper deck. Ailwin retreated to his cabin and peered out the window, gasping as his eyes fell upon a vast island. The landscape was punctuated by hills, cliffs, and some areas covered in lush trees, while others appeared as open plains. On one of those hills stood a figure, its face hidden by a hood, but the striking red eyes were unmistakable, even from a distance. Ailwin gazed at those eyes, and a sense of foreboding settled upon him. The figure was staring back at him.
“Ailwin!” His mother’s voice rang out, causing him to whirl around and find her standing in the confined room.
“Mother, there’s someone there, watching us,” he exclaimed, pointing toward the enigmatic island.
“Don’t be foolish. There’s nothing over there,” she replied, a dismissive smile gracing her lips as she assumed her son was indulging in an attempt to spook them, as he had done since childhood. However, this time, Ailwin wasn’t fabricating a story. He spoke the truth, and yet, she denied it. Frustration welled up within him, and he gazed back at the island, longing to convey the truth to his mother. However, his parents remained unconvinced because only he could see the island. The mystery gnawed at him, and he pondered how it was possible that he alone could perceive this mysterious land while others could not. Fear tightened its grip on his heart as he locked eyes with those mesmerizing red orbs.
They drew closer to the island.
Six miles...
Five miles...
Four miles...
Three miles...
And then, in the blink of an eye, it occurred. Ailwin was lifted off his feet just before a deafening explosion reached his ears. After what felt like an eternity, he hit the unyielding ground. He rose to his feet, dazed, and cast a horrified glance back at the ship. From his vantage point, he could see his mother in their cabin, where the ship’s side had been torn open. His heart plummeted, dread enveloping him. She called out, and Ailwin heard the sound of footsteps and the rustling of grass as the hooded figure approached him.
“Ailwin, hide!” His mother’s frantic cry pierced the air, but he remained immobile, his body locked in a state of shock. She smiled, not in his direction, but at someone behind him. Just as she did, the ship collided with an invisible barrier, and chaos erupted.
Blood spattered through the air, and his mother was torn away. The vessel was consumed by the abyss, and all that was dear to him vanished in an instant. Ailwin’s world crumbled as he stared at the shattered ship, his voice silenced, his mouth unable to form words. When he finally found his voice, he screamed, a sound of boundless pain that tore through the night. Tears streamed down his face, his body growing numb, and he began to collapse. However, before he could hit the ground, someone reached out, catching him and shielding his eyes with a hand.
He yearned to flee, to escape this nightmare, but it was all futile; everything he held dear was gone. He had survived, while his mother had perished. The last vestiges of consciousness were slipping from his body, and for the first time in his life, he wished never to wake again. They had abandoned him on this mysterious island, alone in a place where the inhabitants remained a mystery.
Gradually, he closed his eyes, embracing the encroaching darkness. In the depths of that darkness, he heard his mother’s haunting song, the very melody he could never fully comprehend but knew was more precious to her than life itself.
“Ailwin of the Moonscribe. Son of Ochlissye Moonscribe,” the same voice that had spoken to him before his world shattered echoed in the darkness.
He had left behind his sister, his friends, and his father. Someone had deceived them, but the identity of their cunning manipulator remained a vexing enigma.
