Prologue
*1216 Somewhere around North Yorkshire*
"Hurry Clara, hurry!" Vincent cried. "I can't fly I will be killed!" Clara screamed.
"I will carry you as far as I can to a near lake, you can hide there for a while, now quickly!"
A sudden boom could be heard from the east tower of Devol Castle, the remains of history crumbling down to the moat.
"He is near! Oh Vincent please, change now!" Clara desperately pleaded whilst grasping onto his cloak.
"If I change now his warlock shall know! You know what he did to Miriam, Clara! We must leave the castle grounds!"
Vincent grabbed Clara's hand and dragged her along the stony ground path of the castle, heading to the draw bridge.
Suddenly, a deadly, deadening screech could be heard from above. Vincent slowly looked up as Clara let out a defeated cry – "Byron! Oh Vincent we are never to escape!"
Vincent looked longingly at Clara and for a moment, Clara understood what he was about to do – "No Vincent! No! I cannot leave you, I will not!"
"Clara, run! I will distract him as much as I can, but you must leave. NOW!" Vincent pushed her to the point she had to hold herself up due to the strength. With one last nod, Clara ran over the draw bridge and into the forest.
Vincent turned around, sword in hand, and faced the scary monstrosity in front of him –
"You wish for power? Well...YOU WILL HAVE NONE OF MINE!" and plunged the sword into his heart before the fire-breathing monster could wrap his claws around his body.
*
With slow movements, a cloaked figure stepped towards the noble Vincent's lifeless body. Peering down at the soulless face, Byron sneered.
"Let this be known to you all! With every breath in my body. Through every descendant of mine, I WILL HAVE THAT DRION!"
With one last pathetic kick to the remains of the once powerful noble, Byron stormed back to his castle, robes swishing from side to side whilst his trail of servants ran after him – hoping to stay clear of his rage from behind.
Yet a man...a man with a disfigured face, long dark hair that could have been mistaken for the seaweed from the depths of the unknown sea, stood above Vincent with a sickening smile.
"I shall find your descendants Vincent, no one can run from me."
With a disheartening laugh, the warlock turned around and followed his master back into the castle, leaving Vincent on the dirty, cold stones.
*
YOU ARE READING
Kin: The Drion 1
FantasySet in the beautiful Lake District, Will does not know what his birthday truly means...but his Mother does....and so do the Defectors. What does Gunby farm have in store for him and why...woah...did his Mother just turn into a bear!?
