Prologue:
When fire burns your skin and when ice is freezing your nerves you know that you are alive but what are you when you don't feel anything anymore?
It was a dark night and thunder broke the sky like scars. Even though the peasants would normally stay at home in such a night and pray to their god, they now stood on the marketplace. Fearfully and disgusted some of them were holding torches to enlighten the scenery offering to them; others were holding their kids close so that they couldn't see what was going on. The eldest was standing in front of everybody, shivering, not because of the cold… no… it was because of the fear which was growing inside of him, slowly… like a snake entering the mist and working his way through to find the mouse hiding in it.
What has frightened them so much and what took them out of their secured homes was the tree in the middle of their village. The tree was a holy place for the villagers but now it was a symbol of fear and death as six children of the village were pinned on that holy tree. Blood was flowing down to the ground, creating black puddles that seemed to absorb the light of the bluish moon in the sky. On each forehead of the dead bodies were engraved old runes of unknown magic force. « Burn it » said the eldest with a shaking voice and the people threw, without hesitation, their torches to the bottom of the tree.
As the fire grew higher the old wood ached like screams of thousands souls, it was than when the child in the middle, nailed to the tree, opened his eyes. It looked at the villagers with his red burning eyes and screamed in a inhuman voice « No one shall live no one shall die, I will come back as time goes by! » The villagers screamed out of fear and the children began to cry.
« We have to call for help. » said a man next to the eldest, « Yes I know, but when they will come we will all be dead… » said the eldest slowly and turned his eyes away from the fire.