an ancient force of evil, never gave a reason for starting the war, and his motives were enigmatic to Marithians. However, over the long years of peace, many Marithians had forgotten his name and foolishly allowed his memory to become a distant one.
Vampires swiftly established a civilisation within a civilisation, blending in with humans and steering clear of Veldrenn. Over time, beauty returned to all of Marithia’s war-ravaged lands. Sadly, this age of peace would be relatively short-lived.
Chapter 1: Marithia
“If you are fortunate, you may sense when we are near. A chill may slowly ascend like a spider up your spine to warn of a darker presence nearby.
We are the chosen ones, commanded only by the great sorceress Kassina. Many have fallen in their quest for her knowledge and power.
If it is answers or power that you seek, you must locate her tower and gain her favour.”
Ever since the day nine hundred years earlier when Shindar had obtained his child of prophecy, the Forces of Darkness had rapidly risen in power. Vampires revolted against the cruel actions of King Grueber, exacting their own bloody vengeance by hunting down any human they could find. Vampires made a critical error in their bloodlust by underestimating and attacking the great elves, who immediately stood their ground and put up a courageous fight. Veldrenn was fortified against the sudden surge of attacks, and after a brutal war, the elves were victorious. As it often does, however, victory came at a grave price: the elves were driven to the brink of extinction.
Humans and elves put aside their differences, and to drive back the remainder of the vampires that were picking off anyone unlucky enough to cross their paths, entered into an uneasy alliance. Greenhaven was the shining jewel of this newfound alliance, and within its walls was a promise of security and peace. It was decreed that all vampires were to be killed on sight. A new flag was woven, depicting human and elven knights standing guard. It was proudly flown as a symbol of strength and unity.
Meanwhile, reports of encounters with rogue shadow demons were whispered among all Marithians. Fear spread amongst the people, and the Marithian economy suffered greatly as a result. People frequently disappeared on their travels to She’Ma’Ryn, the City of Wonders, and knights commonly accompanied hunters for protection, with gold to line their pockets for their troubles.
Shindar’s Forces of Darkness were not so brazen, but instead used stealthy tactics. The new human-elf alliance proved effective, and the Forces of Darkness were outnumbered. Unrelenting blades and arrows held back their reign of terror. Shindar worked Kassina tirelessly to gather the souls required for the prophecy of the Blood Red Moon. Regardless of all the souls that she dispatched in Marithia and sent to Shindar’s grip in the underworld, it was never enough. Greenhaven held the majority of the human population in Marithia. For the prophecy to be fulfilled, Greenhaven would have to be successfully infiltrated from the inside. Segregation and panic were necessary if there was to be any chance of the great city being taken.
Vampire numbers quickly thinned. As a final, desperate act, they abased themselves at the gates of Kassina’s tower, becoming Shindar’s servants. This tower was the heart of the Forces of Darkness, and was surrounded by dying lands that eroded the lush earth at a slow but steady pace. The lowlands surrounding the tower had almost completely dried up, and were plagued by decay as the life was drained from them.
Greenhaven adopted a policy of zero tolerance as its walls were filled to capacity by those seeking refuge and protection. Defiance, thievery or any breaking of the sacred laws was met with fair but brutal punishment. Entry to Greenhaven was restricted, and its inhabitants rarely left its protective walls to allow others to take their place. Order was upheld within Greenhaven, as both elves and humans focused their strengths on their common enemy.
She flew gracefully in the limitless blue sky, each rhythmic beat of her large wings propelling her closer to her destination. The wind caressed her scales like a mother warmly cradling her child. It had been a long time since any dragon had flown this far into Marithia, but she immediately felt at home in its familiar skies. Nymira was one of the few ancient dragons who had survived. Over millions of years, dragons had witnessed the world change around them, and they, in turn, had changed with it. Many Marithians foolishly believed that dragons had fallen into extinction. Dragons could only be seen if they allowed themselves to be. Over countless brutal years in the world, the power of evolution had granted dragons a precious and invaluable gift: they developed the ability to adjust their scales to enable them to hide within the world around them. By this means they successfully managed to remain hidden from the rest of the world for tens of thousands of years. At times dragons could be heard or even felt, but were often sadly mistaken as only a figment of the imagination. But although they had largely faded from the memory of Marithia, they had not become indifferent to its destiny; where opportunity presented itself, they influenced events in history for the protection of Marithians.
Nymira took only a brief moment to observe the changed land of Marithia rolling by beneath her. Dragons were the most sensitive beings to the effects of magic and the power emanating from the Elven Woods hummed through her bones. She equally felt the dark magic plaguing the lowlands from Kassina's tower as if a storm cloud covered her.
It had been a treacherous journey, but Karven had sent her personally, and she would never be able to forgive herself if she let the great dragon king down. He had stressed to her that today’s events were of immense importance, and she had almost reached her destination. She returned her attention to her mission and pressed on.
The city had taken hundreds of years to complete and was a wondrous sight for her to behold after such a long absence. Its stone was covered with a solid layer of shimmering gold that was visible from many great lands and could have been used as a navigation point for those who attempted to brave the deadly seas, if the seas had not been a fatal journey for any who had set sail. Sadly, nobody knew of any sailor that had ever returned home alive.
This great stronghold was now home to thousands of women, men and children. They earned their entry with gold, trade, or through those who held the power to influence. Some, if they were incredibly lucky, were awarded it for service to the crown. The city had prospered, and many trade routes were now well-established. Some called it paradise, most who lived within its walls simply called it home, but all who walked the lands of Marithia knew the city as Greenhaven.
Only a soft swell of wind granted any hint of her presence as Nymira landed as gracefully as a butterfly on its gleaming walls. She took a brief moment to steady her grip in the cracks between the stones, folded her great wings, and scaled the walls to find a window overlooking the great throne room. After what felt like an eternity of searching, she found one and peered inside.
The throne room was filled with dusty beams of vivid yellow light as if it were lit from the heavens. Intricate furniture and beautifully painted walls provided an air of elegance to Greenhaven’s royal quarters. Great statues of heroes throughout the ages were almost brought to life by the many colours of the stained glass windows. Statues of powerful warlocks, armoured knights and two dragons were neatly arranged in the corners of the room. Nymira recognized herself in one of the statues and smiled as memories of the ancients returned to her for but a moment.
Greenhaven’s royals wore only the most elaborate clothing available in all the lands, woven by both human and elven hands and detailed with patterns taken from nature. They were a stunning combination of rare furs, jewels and the finest of coloured silks. The king was no exception, dressed today in a jade coloured garb, but the beauty of his attire did nothing to hide the expression of anger on his face.
It was not the first time that Vartan had knelt before his king’s throne, but he feared somehow that this would not be a pleasant meeting.
“How could you allow this travesty to happen? She was almost killed, Vartan! I trusted you with her life, and after I granted you care of Helenia, this is how you repay me? Look at her, damn you! I demand an
