The Creators || h.styles

Prolouge

The night was exceptionally cold, and to Damien, it was deathly. He'd never really expected to die, but then he'd also never expected to be brought down by one of his Marked Warriors either. He was a well known Warrior, very old, very powerful. Among the second generation. He'd known Circe personally for as long as he could remember, though she hadn't Marked him and she'd stopped contacting him the moment she found out about his plans.

Which was foolish of her, because Damien had offered her a part in her plans - had offered her the world. But she had refused and disappeared, and now Damien was laying on the cold ground, bleeding out.

All had been going well, he'd found a new child and Marked her, turning her instantly, though he'd set for her to stop ageing at nineteen. He'd gotten rid of her parents and a couple of her close friends so she had no ties to the human world, and all had seemed fine. She'd cried a little, but stopped after he'd punished her. She bore her first scars - the first of many.

She had learned quickly, gaining such a high skill level so early that Damien had been near rubbing his hands together in glee. But then the bitch had turned on him and attacked him. He knew she thought he was already dead, but he wasn't. He was holding on, though he had no hope.

He had no idea where he was, so how would anyone of his loyal Marked Warriors know where he was? Jayden had thought this out thoroughly, and Damien had taught her well himself, and now he was paying the price.

He didn't understand it really, she was the only one to even think about going against him. He'd sensed resistance in her at first, but by the time she'd named her sword - Esaru - without knowing what it meant and who she'd named her sword after, Damien knew she was different.

Of course Damien knew. Damien knew near everything. He had known Esaru himself, she had been a second generation like him. And he'd loved her. He'd loved her with everything he had. But she'd loved another. Arsuel.

That bastard. Arsuel had been great - loved by everyone, worshiped by everyone, and he'd gotten Esaru. His beautiful Esaru. His light.

"My light." Damien murmured into the night, closing his eyes as he spoke the meaning of Esaru's name.

It was a name that still haunted him to this day. He was reminded of what he'd had to do.

Arsuel had been going to marry her when the soldier Warrior returned from war a hero, and Damien simply couldn't allow that. So Damien had taken Esaru and hid her. He'd used old, old magic to hide her where no one but him could see her. She was in a different place. A place between this world and the next - a little rip in space and time.

Arsuel had been told that Esaru was dead - and of course he'd been heart broken. Everyone held a funeral for the most beautiful white-winged Warrior, and mourning hadn't ended for a month. Of course, Damien couldn't just leave it at that, so one night when Arsuel had turned to drink in his grief, Damien had sliced his head off with his sword.

Arsuel died that night, and Damien had gone to see Esaru in the tear between worlds. He told her what he'd done, exuberant and telling her that they could finally be together. But she was furious and wrecked with grief. How could this Warrior - who she had once considered a friend - do this? He had kidnapped her and trapped her - leaving her miserable and alone - and then killed her only love.

She had told Damien this, and Damien had been confused. Didn't she love him as he loved her? Surely he was hearing things. "Don't you get it?" He had asked.

Esaru had asked him the same thing. And then Damien had realised he did get it, and he had left in a storm - a flurry of anger and hatred. He had shut the gate to the between-worlds, trapping Esaru forever and he had cast magic, changing everyone's view on things in a way that they remembered everything - but to them Esaru never existed.

And as far as Damien knew, Esaru was still there.

And Damien was dying.

He'd never be able to release her, and he smiled at that thought. She deserved it for tearing out his heart.

But it wasn't to be.

Hands gripped his bloodied body and carried him back to his home, where Healers were called in and told to save him.

And he was saved.

And Damien lived.

And he wanted revenge.

He also wanted his Esaru. And he would get her - even if Esaru was only the name of a sword.

Jayden's sword.

And to get the sword he had to get Jayden, because he would never free Esaru. He knew she was trapped as long as that sword was in existence. To free Esaru would be to destroy the sword. And to make sure that never happened, he had to keep a close eye on Jayden.

And to do that, he needed to get Jayden.

And so he did.