Prologue

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A cavern deep within the black stoned castle echoes with the footsteps of ten men. The black and white harlequin floors quiver with their shadows that stretch high like the cathedral ceilings above. Crackling lightning sets off in the sky, illuminating the beings more than the faint candlelight along the corridor walls had.

Leading the company is a cloaked figure. He's the oldest of the council, wrinkled and feeble. Like the four directly behind him, his features are hidden by a long black cloak and hood, the customary garb.

This is the Council of Evermore, named after the castle they reside in and attend to their duties. One of these duties are to aid Families in finding a bride. It's a tedious task, but not one they take lightly. Thorough processes are executed to ensure a Family and the bride are happily matched.

Behind the cloaked men, stands a tall fear inspiring creature by the name of Indigo Hawthorne. A long black trench coat covers his suit from another time. The vest buttons gleam gold in the faint light. Sophisticated and a gentleman, Indigo is a formidable sight that stands at nearly seven feet tall. His head is skeletal, that of a deer, with antlers that reach even higher into the air. Their many points scatter outwards. He's an ancient beast, so ancient even he does not remember his earliest years in this world.

Indigo Hawthorne is a creature they never wished to grace their corridors. His reputation isn't exactly a hospitable one and his methods teeter on the edge of breaking the laws that govern their world.

Flanking Indigo on the left is Christian Devonshire, an Omen. A happy smile adorns his handsome face as his steps flourish with a bit of a bounce. Pale blonde hair falls just past his shoulders with a bit of a wave in the locks. Blue violet eyes glimmer joyously as he's been eagerly awaiting this day for a long time.

Flanking Indigo on the opposing side is Corvus Crowe, the Magpie. His watchful dark grey eyes scan the surroundings suspiciously. Raven black hair falls to his neck, fluttering handsomely like the thin feathers of a bird. A single strand of white stains his bangs. Corvus is a wary and brooding sort of fellow without many words he wishes to share with others.

Behind them, standing side by side, are Fakir Norwood and Judas Mortensen. Fakir struts with a grace the others in his company couldn't dream to imitate. His black hair falls like silk to his high cheekbones and into his eyes. A lock of hair, just behind his left ear, falls to his chest over his heart. Today it is wrapped with a white ribbon in a crisscrossed fashion to honor this joyous day. There's a mischievous smirk and sultry eyes on his perfect face. He's a charming and princely sort with a love for mischief. Yet in his glowing yellow eyes is a ravenous desire for what is to come, for unseelie are known to covet their desires above all else.

Beside Fakir stands the gruff and sarcastic Judas Mortensen, the Grim. His shaggy brown hair falls to his ears in his preferred bed head style. A comb is this man's worst enemy. He's foregone his contacts today, letting his ruby red eyes gleam. A more relaxed and unconcerned fellow, Judas appears uninterested in today's events. The slight quickening of his steps is the only inclination that this isn't exactly the case.

This is the shunned and feared family of the Hawthornes, a mismatched group of nothing but the most undesirable sort. Cursed creatures that cause even the most bold in their world to take a step back in their presence. Typically Families are of the same species and do not possess such inhospitable types that could endanger a bride.

This will be quite the job for the Council of Evermore. Finding a bride who not only is compatible with these men, but also strong enough to survive them is quite daunting indeed. They've scrounged this world for any and all souls, not being picky as per usual. They know it'll have to be a rare specimen of a woman to be able to intermingle with such dark beasts and their heinous appetites.

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