~Prologue~

Summary:

Author: Daisy215 also known as Daisy215769 or Care

Rating: This story is rated T for teen. Please see the sites ratings guide for more information about ratings.

Copyright: All characters and plot line belong to me and are my property. This story is copyright by me, Daisy215 and my blog Etherial on blogger.com. (2012)

~Prologue~

Etherial, Adjective

Definition: Heavenly, Undefined

-Centuries Ago-

“They keep dying!” Elizabeth Anne screamed, slamming her fist down on the edge of the table. Her advisor Marcus didn’t even look up, he was so accustomed to her outbursts. For a woman in her thirties the queen tended to throw fits similar to a small child.

“You sound as if you have no remorse for their deaths,” Marcus said, running a bulky hand through his lion’s mane type of beard. Elizabeth Anne stiffened before glaring at him.

“They were sent here to protect us, and all they do is die!” she carried on, pacing the cobblestone floors of the dining hall violently. “They are supposed to be angels! How can angels even die?” she questioned furiously, throwing her hands every which way as she talked.

“It’s not their fault they are dying. The armies of Satan are powerful.” Marcus pointed out, wrapping a hand around his mug and taking a long drink. He was going to need it to make it through this conversation.

“Those humans too! Persecuting them! I mean, witch trials, humans killing other humans. I swear Marcus they are just as violent as Satan’s recruits themselves!” She said, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat. She stopped and turned to Marcus, “What are we going to do?”

A small woman, barely out of her teenage years walked through the arch leading into the dining hall timidly. Elizabeth Anne didn’t notice her presence in all of her pacing, and so she turned to Marcus and smiled timidly.

“Hello Sir, Your grace,” She said, addressing Marcus and including Elizabeth Anne. Elizabeth Anne turned sharply on he feet and glared at the petite woman.

“What is it Joy?” she barked, and the girl shriveled back in fear of her highness. Marcus glared at Elizabeth Anne and turned to the girl, smiling kindly.

“Do you have a message Jane?” he asked the girl, calling her by her actual name. She flushed and nodded quickly. 

“Yes, the Fae have sent word of a new plan of Satan,” Jane began, but was quickly interrupted.

“We do not negotiate with the Fae, wicked beasts they are!” Elizabeth Anne said, her face a mask of disgust. Jane looked frightened, but Marcus nodded at her, signaling her to continue.

“Satan is trying to create a hybrid, a mix of supernaturals to become all powerful. The Fae have requested our help,” Jane said, worry etched across her face. Marcus leaned forward in his chair and even Elizabeth Anne seemed to be listening closly.

“Why would we help them?! Sorcerers do not interact with the Fae!” Elizabeth Anne said loudly, interrupting once more.

“The Fae have suggested that we all band together and create our own powerful hybrid, and we use these new hybrids to protect the angels until their powers are fully established,” Jane said, eyes darting from Elizabeth Anne to Marcus.

Marcus nodded slowly. “I think that could actually work,” he said, and he stood up from his seat.

Elizabeth Anne seemed relatively calmer, and there was now a sparkle in her hazel eyes. “Protectors,” she said slowly, tasting the word on her tongue. “Send word to the Fae immediately, we’ll do it,” she ordered, and Jane scurried out of the dining hall without another word.

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-Present day-

As soon as I fell asleep the dream returned...

She was running through the woods, over the gray tree roots. They spanned the entire forest floor, I couldn’t tell what color it was, it was all roots. They were bulky and seemed to be growing above the ground.

She raced around the trees, running through the sea of gray. It was pitch black but for a small light that seemed to radiate from her. Her delicate wings glowed the color of moonlight, providing her with a bit of light. They flickered quickly, erratically.

What was she doing running through the woods? Searching? No, she kept looking back. She was running from someone. Her white dress rippled as she ran, racing over the gray roots through the never ending tree trunks. She wound around them, looking back and glancing forward, always stumbling and catching her balance.

When she turned to look over her shoulder, her already wide eyes grew wider. She screamed in panic, and started running even faster than before. It was all in vain, she stumbled over one of the tree roots and went sprawling onto the ground. The girl cried out in pain and looked at her ankle before crawling around one of the tree trunks and leaning back against it, panting. The fog of the forest swirled around her, hiding her.

But it was no use, her pursuer had already seen her. Their shadow suddenly loomed over her, and she looked up in terror. Then she turned and looked right in the direction I was looking, her dark blue eyes boring into mine.

“Help me,” She begged, seeming to be speaking directly to me. “Please help me!” she screamed as the shadow began to close in on her.

“Austin,” she whispered my name in a desperate tone.

Then she was gone. 

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