Three hundred years ago, the Earth split and the sky trembled. And then the monsters came.
The island of Lowynn is cursed. The Veil between worlds has torn, and now, monsters come with vengeance. They can only be placated by the blood of sorcerers...
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The evening began with a wedding and ended in war.
Ciara was a wife before she could scarcely realize. She had always known, and dreaded, her marriage to Reid, but the moment had come too fast. The handfasting rope was replaced with thick bandages to staunch their bloodied palms, and Ciara and Reid clasped their hands together as the crowd screamed its approval.
The whole evening, Ciara had comforted herself with the thought that this wedding would not come to pass. But her plots had fallen to pieces so quickly, and now she stood, arm and arm with her beloved new husband.
Suddenly, the cheers echoed from outside the walls of the Keep... Ciara barked out a laugh. The whole world is cheering for my failure. The ancient Kings are cheering me. How funny it is....
But when she turned, her Father was not laughing. He raced forwards, to the narrow opening which lead to the parapets. He was pale as the sickly moon, eyes wide in horror.
"Do they have a battering ram?" Ennis Griffin asked, pushing forward from the dias. "Has it begun already?"
"It will take weeks for them to break down the gates," Nessa assured. "Armies have tried such things a thousand times before. We still have time to meet them in the field. They will exhaust themselves before we ride out."
Yet still the screaming continued. "This isn't a battering ram," the General whispered. Ciara had never seen him so afraid. He broke into a run towards the parapets, and Ciara followed him.
"Get back inside!" the General cried. "Get to Reid.... he'll see you safe. There are passages that will get you out and to the beach. He knows where to go-- Ciara, listen to me!"
Breathless, Ciara followed him onto the parapets. "Listen to you? Father, what am I?"
"A Byrne..." he started to say, as he had a thousand times before.
"Not anymore." She ran.
Within an instant, Ciara stood on the outstretched palm of Balor Celnaer. Hundreds of feet below, the army was faint. She could almost forget that thousands of men clamored below the Keep, for their bodies were specks in the distance. And yet, their numbers were endless.....
Ciara perched upon the ledge, staring at thousands of figures, all barely visible through distance and darkness. Hundreds of campfires bled crimson into the night, their smoke embracing the fog on the rocks.
She stood small against the regal King, hanging between the two armies prepared to war for her. Oh, gods, I'm so sorry. Tristan, I've failed you...
A white figure stumbled towards the parapets. "Shoot her down!" the General shrieked, half-feral, half-regal. Dozens of archers were perched upon the other Kings, and they loosed their bows as ordered. "Shoot her!"
But the distant woman was untouched. She stood defiant, just outside of the reach of crossbows. "Shoot her!" her father screamed, his desperation growing with each word.
