Prologue - Mythos

London, 1856

         In a rundown hotel, a man stands near a window watching the raindrops hitting the window pane with disdain. He could not help but allow a bit of snobbery to escape him at the setting he was forced into. The hotel and its surroundings were gloomy and dark, an area people came to for dark deeds they wished to hide. In the past he might have walked by with his nose in the air at such a place, at the sinfulness of its people. Now, however, there was no time to be picky. Despite his reservations, even he had to admit this place offered a bit of protection. No one, not even his family, would expect to find him in such a dreary and awful place.

         The man looked past the rain and chanced a glance at the people walking up and down the street. Some of them were rushing to get out of the rain. Others were moving more slowly, having realized that they would be wet regardless of how quickly they went. His curiosity was piqued slightly though, at a woman standing beneath a large black umbrella. She was a prostitute; there was no mistake of that. One only had to look at her plunging neckline, blood red lips, and the very fact that she chose to stand outside in the cold and rain rather than make her way home.

         Standing underneath the gas lamp light, she threw seductive gazes to the men who passed by. Some of these men looked tempted by this beautiful woman. It was an awfully cold night though and most men were more worried about getting inside where it was warm and dry rather than having their cock pleasured. Each man that passed prompted a frustrated sigh from the woman before she turned her gaze to someone else.

         Something was off though and the man was sure the longer he stared, the more that would be revealed by the woman he was staring at. Sure enough, a slight smile came to his lips at having deduced that she was no average lady of the night. Even as she adjusted her dress, the man began to see her for what she really was. Bat like wings were escaping her clothes. The prostitute’s small horns curled twice around her temples, indicating she was around two hundred years old. “Quite young for a succubus,” the man thought mildly. A slight turn of her body revealed a pointed tail that was whipping around her of its own free will, much like a cat’s tail would. Seeing the woman in her true form, he felt slight pity for the man who would finally fall prey to her advances. Whoever was this prostitute’s customer was would lose a lot more than money that night.

         The man turned away with a heavy sigh, boredom and slight unease coming to his face. The view of the actual hotel room did not improve his mood. The burnt orange walls of the hotel room looked gray with specks of black where the paint was chipping. The only spot of brightness in the room was where his wife was seated at a table, a candle lit next to her. Any amount of disdain and apprehension he felt for his current situation melted the moment that he looked upon his beautiful wife. He watched her quickly writing something on a sheet of paper. A sad smile came to his lips, making the man look younger than his years.

         Approaching his wife slowly, he looked over her shoulder to see that it was Latin she was writing. He could already guess what it said. Sighing softly, the man slowly put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. His wife stilled, pen poised to continue writing. Then, with extreme reluctance, she put her pen down and placed her hands on top of his, swallowing hard.

         Bending down, the man kissed the crown of her head, murmuring into her hair, “My darling wife… You know that we cannot remain here…”

         Her mouth was pulled down in a deep frown, he knew. His wife’s voice came out soft, but defensive as she said, “I know this. It does not mean I cannot send a letter to my parents to tell them that I am leaving…” The man shook his head and took away the letter she had been writing.

         “We do not even have that luxury anymore. If we were to send it to your family and the Society found it, they would use hell hounds to track us down. You know that they are not above it,” the man warned, his voice sterner than he meant it to be.
His wife looked to him, her hazel green eyes burning with muted anger. The man simply returned her gaze, ready to bar any protest that escaped her beautiful lips.

         After a few moments though, the man finally saw the look in her eyes that said she knew he was right. He exhaled softly in relief that she simply looked down, her way of stating defeat. With all that they had been through and were getting ready to go through, the last thing he and his wife needed was to be on opposing sides. The man took the letter in his hands and went to the candle burning on the table. Carefully, he allowed the paper to catch fire from the flame burning, watching the words melt away into darkness until all that was left was a small burning corner he promptly blew out.

         As the man dropped what remained of the letter into a small trash bin, a knock came to their door. His wife looked up and looked to him, waiting a moment before nodding. He took a deep breath quickly before going to the door. Opening it slowly, he stared up at the tall, cloaked figure standing on the other side. The person’s cloak hid their face and was dripping wet from the rain. Clearing his throat, he politely greeted, “Dörthe, I am so glad that you came. Please come in.” Stepping out of the way to so that she could enter, the man gave a small bow to this tall woman. “We are so honored that you would come to such a deplorable place such as this to help us.”

         He glanced back at his wife, who was already on her feet and curtseying to Dörthe. His wife’s eyes took in the woman called Dörthe as she took her cloak off. Despite both being familiar with her, their eyes could not help but widen as they both took in Dörthe’s great beauty. Her skin was pale, luminous against the dark interior of their room. Her hair cascaded loosely down her back, the color of golden wheat. She pushed her cloak back to reveal her body, long and lithe. Pointed elfin ears grew predominantly from her head, though they were only noticeable to the husband and wife. It was Dörthe’s eyes that completely enraptured them though. Ethereal, this woman's eyes were the color of a light gray one could only find after a storm had passed and the gray sky remained.

         Husband and wife stood next to each other and bowed their heads low in respect. The husband knew that Dörthe was staring at them, appraising them carefully. It did not take long before she softly whispered, “So you were telling the truth. You two wish to lose the flicker of magic within both of you that gives you your sight… Such a powerful gift and yet you want to give it up.” Dörthe’s accent was German, the husband noted, not unusual given her heritage. The husband nodded gravely in response.

         “We… We cannot stand this any longer. The fighting, the danger, the way the Society has used us,” he spat out the last word as though it was all he could do to control his anger, “It is sickening. Without the sight, the Society cannot force us to work for them. They cannot control our lives. And if you can help us lose our sight as well as keep them from finding us after… We would be eternally in your debt.”

         The man watched as this ethereal woman surveyed him momentarily, her eyes appraising his own. He could only stand it for a moment before his eyes dropped. Dörthe had to have seen that they were the eyes of a man who knew what he wanted, who was desperate for a peaceful future. He took hold of his wife’s hand as Dörthe removed her cloak to reveal a dress that was as blue as the sky. As he watched her place her cloak on the bed, he and his wife were so enraptured by watching her movements that they both started when she pondered aloud, “I wonder if it is really worth it.”

         The man’s wife looked at him, confused, then back to Dörthe before asking, “What do you wonder is worth it, Lady Dörthe?”

         The man paused, watching as this woman appraised his wife. The man could not help but smile at how much more easily his wife returned Dörthe’s gaze than he did. She was brave and unafraid of most things, from the most monstrous of sights to the darkest of magic. It was one of the many reasons he fell in love with her.

         The man knew Dörthe had to see that his wife was not something one expected to find in the Society. Despite the bravery his wife contained, most of the world would only ever see her as a fragile little woman. “Tell me how fragile you might find her when you see her impaling an incubus rapist’s head on a polearm,” he thought to himself.

         Dörthe finally smiled, seemingly satisfied after seeing the fire that resided quietly in his wife’s eyes. Seating herself at the table, she put her fingers together in front of her, earnestly saying, “For what you wish for, I can do. There are however, consequences to every action,” She paused, evidently waiting for him and his wife to say something. When they did not, she continued, “There is a spell that will take your ability to see the creatures that normal humans cannot away. However, it is… Not perfect.”

         Both stared at her, questioning. When she remained silent, the man cleared his throat and beseeched politely, “What is wrong with it?”

         Dörthe shook her head and sighed, “If I take your sight, it will be gone from your bodies forever. The sight will return some day though, to your family. Perhaps it will not be your children, your grandchildren, or even your great grandchildren. However, some day, your kin will once again produce a child that does have the sight. This person will be able to pass this sight and whatever flicker of magic they have to their own children after this. The Society will be able to track this child. What will happen, I do not know. Are you really willing to take a chance that someday, a descendent of yours will have this power again?”

         The man and wife both dropped their heads, thinking heavily about the consequences from this spell. Could he selfishly allow he and his wife to lose this power, this curse as they seen it, only for it to come back on a descendent of theirs who would have no knowledge of how to use it? It was not something the man had foreseen happening. The man had simply thought that once they were rid of their cursed sight, it would be gone forever. But life was not that simple. He glanced at his wife who was looking at him, and knew she had the same thought. Maybe, just maybe, they should both keep this power.

         But then the man thought of the monsters they would both be forced to face. He thought of the ones who were violent, thirsty for the blood of humans. He thought of the monsters whose thirst for blood was only matched by their lust of human men and women, the heathen monsters who had accosted his wife more than once before someone had arrived to aid her. The man thought of the Society, the people who would force them to train their children with the sight into being warriors. The Society that would give his family no other choice in what they wished to do with their life.

         With his thoughts firm on his decision once more, he looked to Dörthe and said with steadfast determination, “We wish for this curse to be gone. We wish to be gone from this life… Will you please help us?”

         She nodded, her smile kind, “Ja, it would be my pleasure to help you, given how many times your sweet wife has helped me in the past.” Gesturing for them to come closer, the man stepped forward with his wife as Dörthe began to glow with a greenish light. The man and his wife first squinted against it before their eyes opened wide to the green light that enveloped them.

         The husband was shocked by the feeling and knew his wife had to be feeling the same way. All over their bodies tingled, literally feeling the magic that was at work inside of them. And that’s what it was. Magic. There was something so special about this magic, something so pure when used right. And slowly, that magic was slowly being pulled out of them.

         Tears began to pour down the man’s face and he looked to his wife to see her own tears falling down her cheeks. There was a certain sorrow to this. At the same time though, the man felt his tears turning from one of sadness to pure happiness. For he knew as he watched the magic being pulled from their bodies, that though they were losing the biggest blessing their god had given them, that he and his wife were being blessed with a new beginning.

Present Day

         In a small suburb that resided fifteen minutes outside of Charlotte, NC, dawn was just minutes away from breaking. The early morning fog was slowly weaving its way through the houses, enjoying the silence the morning had to offer as everyone slept. Along this fog though, a dark shadow slowly crept across the ground. Easing its way under into one of the many sleepy houses, this shadow continued to creep until it reached a bedroom on the second floor. Going under the crack of the door, the shadow slowly grew taller, bigger, until the shadow broke to reveal a tall man with broad shoulders.

         This shadow man, with dark brown hair swept back to keep from falling into his eyes, does not notice how more light was creeping into the room. Nor does he pay any mind to how the fog is slowly rolling away. He only has eyes for the woman the woman lying in bed, asleep and content in the comfort of her warm blankets. The man wonders at first if she realizes he’s there but comes to know that she does not. Her breathing would not be so even and so deep if she had suspected a stranger was in her room. Slowly, the shadow man slithers to her bedside until he reaches the edge. Peering down at her, he watches as her dark pink lips parted slightly to take in a breath as she rolls over onto her back.

         How sad she is, he thought as he pushed a lock of her black hair out of her heart shaped face. Such an important creature she is, someone who has such a role to play, yet she can only sleep soundly without realizing how much is going to change. A smile suddenly adorned his face. It was not a smile of kindness or a smile of pity. It was a smile of malice. He took glee in knowing that these changes were all going to be good for him. For her? Well, if she died during these changes, it was simply a sacrifice he’d have to face.

         Pity though, if she were to die. She is a pretty little thing, he thought as he reached forward to touch her face. Tracing her forehead gently, he slowly moved his fingers to lightly stroke her cheek. His eyes slowly roved her face before glancing towards the window to see the early morning sun finally rising, sending beams of light into the room. As the light lit the room up, the man’s appearance began to change. His nails grew long, sharpening and curling into clawed points. His hand, the flesh of pale white, blackened until he looked as though he had been burned alive. The skin on his body began to wrenching and weaving, changing until it all resembled black vines that continued to grow and move across his body.

         As these blackened vines began to go up his neck, he leaned down and whispered in the woman’s ear, “Sage Elsey, I have waited so long for you… You will be the key to my success.” As the vines came up and covered his face, his dark brown eyes turned a blood red. These eyes gleefully and maliciously looked down at the figure in this bed, knowing within a few hours the fun would truly begin and it would not be long before chaos would reign. Knowing he could not last much longer in this morning light, he muttered a few brief words and disappeared into the remaining shadows of the room as though he had never been there.

         Sage Elsey slept.