The Reaper

Prologue

Ezra slammed his mead filled mug down onto the wooden table. The brown liquid jumped from its mug and towards the many maps, strategically sprawled across the table.

"Dammit!" He roared.

He pushed his fingers through his hair, absolutely frustrated.

He had his armies everywhere, yet they were still no match for the Reaper. He was no match for the Reaper, and that not only frightened him but enraged him as it wounded his impressive ego.

A knock echoed throughout the room, breaking Ezra away from his hellbent thoughts.

"Enter," he ordered.

In walked his Lieutenant and long life friend Damon, who widened his eyes at his superior in warning, as he briskly entered the room.

Ezra was perplexed until the reason for his right hand man's behavior came sauntering through the door with purpose, behind him.

Ezra immediately straightened himself to stand at attention.

Damon bowed to the stoic blonde woman before them and said, "Lady Ophelia, I present to you, General Roman, of the Ascended Army."

Lady Ophelia curtsied in front of the general out of courtesy as he saluted her by moving to kneel onto his left knee with his arm fisted over his heart, a customary greeting to any member of the High Council.

"My Lady it is an honor to serve the High Council." Ezra spoke honorably. He truly meant it. Ever since he was a boy, he'd been an impeccable warrior. Raised by his Elven parents until the age of seven, he was sent away along with other young boys his age and of his same high social status to the elite military preparatory in the capital city. It was there he was molded into the great Elven soldier he is today.

Trained to defend the Ascended from the Fallen within the supernatural world, Ezra Roman was the top warrior in his class. Quickly he soared through the ranks of the Ascended military. Truly skilled in the arts of war, Ezra was a force to be reckoned with. It was not a shock to the supernatural beings, both Fallen and Ascended, when he was appointed to be General of the Ascended Army, in fact, it was quite expected.

Legends and tales of the great Elven warrior spread like wildfire throughout the lands. Ezra took on the title with pride and executed his army with a sort of lethal precision.

Now a grown man at the age of twenty seven, standing at a strong six foot three inches and rippling with hard muscle, he was thought to be extremely fierce and handsome. His piercing ice blue eyes, and shoulder length dirty blonde hair had women of all races fawning after him.

Lady Ophelia nodded her head toward the great general as she acknowledged his paid respect to the High Council. He slowly brought himself back up to stand, as he did so Lady Ophelia brushed past him to see the maps and routes the general had been strategizing around now, for countless hours.

He walked up next to her and began to explain his new plan for battle against the accursed Reaper.

Damon stood on the other side on the table watching as his friend took charge.

"The villages to the west of the valley have been completely obliterated in its wake. My men and I went back to look for any survivors but found none. It was eerie as if all the life itself had been completely drained from the land. The people had been slaughtered and the bodies pillaged." Ezra internally shuddered at the memory. He recalled the horrific images clear as day in his head.

"As you know the Reaper works alone yet, many of the Fallen, demons in particular, have been following the Reaper feeding of its death and destruction," Ezra spit.