Prologue
Villagers came from all around to see the old woman crouched in her hut. It wasn't an everyday occurrence to find a true seer, and many people hoped that gazing upon her wizened features, she could cure them of any ills that they might find themselves faced with in the times yet to come.
The Elder sat beside a fire all day that reeked of scented herbs and spice. No flaps were open to let the breeze escape, and the air inside was stifling and hazy. Every visitor left feeling light-headed and watery-eyed from the lack of breathable air. The woman herself seemed to remain unaffected, at least as unaffected as a muttering old crone was ever likely to seem. She sat on the same bear-skin mat all day and all night, muttering and feeding sacred herbs to the fire. Dry ones made it crackle and pop as the red, orange, and yellow flames greedily ate up the offering, while damp ones smoked and made the air even thicker as their contents slowly evaporated.
Today, the old woman stared the same way she always did into the flames, but today things were to change. There was silence in the hut - even the fire seemed quiet. And then the woman spoke: "As the outlook becomes bleak," her croaking voice crooned, "Fire, Earth, Water, and Earth shall cross land, sea, and mist, to become one in an alliance to last for all eternity. Only then will anything be resolved."
The People who had gathered in the hut looked impressed. And then there was silence.
*******************************************
The air was surprisingly cold for southern California as the lithe blonde left the warmth of her house and friends to go out in it. She rubbed at the sleeves of her jacket and looked up at the stars, which stood out clearly in the frigid air. Each one shone with perfect clarity like the diamond studs she had absently stabbed into her ears that morning. Caustically, she wrapped her long arms about her body and watched as her breath curled up in smoke tentacles in front of her.
She was special, this girl: each move she made would be recorded into the tapestry of time.birth, life, and death. Yes, she was special - the Chosen One. The one to fight against evil for the course of her natural life. Doomed to die an early death, she repelled the forces of darkness as they made their bid to conquer Earth.
Or at least this what she had been told nearly every day of her life since her fifteenth birthday. Sometimes, when the fight became nearly too much for her to bear, she would repeat it silently to herself over and over like a record that has been played too often.
This was what she had been told; this is what she had come to live her life by, yet she was going to discover very soon that the very foundations she had built her existence upon would be shaken by a force stronger than any she had ever faced, and that her true purpose would be revealed to her soon.
******************************************
Newly freed, the tall, curvaceous brunette ran one long slender hand through her mane of hair. She was confused, desperate, unsure of everything she had ever been taught to believe. Even, indeed, if she had really ever been taught anything - nothing that had ever made the slightest bit of difference, anyway.
New-found freedom and she didn't know what to do with it. She found herself desolate, crawling in the endless dark of the peculiarly long tunnel that had been the course of her natural life. The Chosen - that's what she had been told for years: that she was special, one-of-kind. But it hadn't mattered. It hadn't given her the purpose that she had hoped it would. Maybe it had even made things worse.
Glancing up, she caught a glimpse of the first star - so clear that it shined through even the thick smog of L.A. Refined, beautiful, a beacon of hope in the great void of night.
She too would have her purpose revealed soon.
******************************************
A redhead ran along the dirt road into the great expanse of night. Her heart thumped against her breastbone, her lungs screamed for air and the muscles in her legs grew tight as they clenched and extended with each leap. Running: running towards, running away, she did not know, but she kept on running.
To be chosen, to fight evil as it manifested itself on Earth - that was her purpose. No matter what, she had to keep going until one bad night for her or a lucky one for her prey would end the cycle. Until then, things moved in an endless cycle that she could not escape.
So she ran - following the path her prey had taken, she continued on, wondering to herself if this fight would finally end the cycle. End the trial and she could rest. Knowing that death lay at the tunnel, she wondered if she would ever serve her purpose, if such a thing really existed for a person.
But what her purpose was, she would not discover then. But eventually, the mists would clear and the path would be shown clearly to her tired eyes.
******************************************
From the shadow of surrounding buildings, dark eyes peered out into the gloom of the neighborhood. They belonged to a beauty, though this was currently hooded in a protective black cloak. The owner of the eyes watched with the cool observation of a huntress, taking in any shift in the mist. Her keen hearing was perked so that it picked up the slightest noise, despite the muffling qualities of the thick fog.
Crouched cat-like in the shadows, waiting for her target, she thought about what she was doing and how this might be the night that something finally ended her existence. A coffee colored hand came up and touched the cold brick of the wall next to her for reassurance. She had been waiting for hours, and there was no guarantee that she wouldn't be waiting for many more.
She wouldn't have to wait for long.
Villagers came from all around to see the old woman crouched in her hut. It wasn't an everyday occurrence to find a true seer, and many people hoped that gazing upon her wizened features, she could cure them of any ills that they might find themselves faced with in the times yet to come.
The Elder sat beside a fire all day that reeked of scented herbs and spice. No flaps were open to let the breeze escape, and the air inside was stifling and hazy. Every visitor left feeling light-headed and watery-eyed from the lack of breathable air. The woman herself seemed to remain unaffected, at least as unaffected as a muttering old crone was ever likely to seem. She sat on the same bear-skin mat all day and all night, muttering and feeding sacred herbs to the fire. Dry ones made it crackle and pop as the red, orange, and yellow flames greedily ate up the offering, while damp ones smoked and made the air even thicker as their contents slowly evaporated.
Today, the old woman stared the same way she always did into the flames, but today things were to change. There was silence in the hut - even the fire seemed quiet. And then the woman spoke: "As the outlook becomes bleak," her croaking voice crooned, "Fire, Earth, Water, and Earth shall cross land, sea, and mist, to become one in an alliance to last for all eternity. Only then will anything be resolved."
The People who had gathered in the hut looked impressed. And then there was silence.
*******************************************
The air was surprisingly cold for southern California as the lithe blonde left the warmth of her house and friends to go out in it. She rubbed at the sleeves of her jacket and looked up at the stars, which stood out clearly in the frigid air. Each one shone with perfect clarity like the diamond studs she had absently stabbed into her ears that morning. Caustically, she wrapped her long arms about her body and watched as her breath curled up in smoke tentacles in front of her.
She was special, this girl: each move she made would be recorded into the tapestry of time.birth, life, and death. Yes, she was special - the Chosen One. The one to fight against evil for the course of her natural life. Doomed to die an early death, she repelled the forces of darkness as they made their bid to conquer Earth.
Or at least this what she had been told nearly every day of her life since her fifteenth birthday. Sometimes, when the fight became nearly too much for her to bear, she would repeat it silently to herself over and over like a record that has been played too often.
This was what she had been told; this is what she had come to live her life by, yet she was going to discover very soon that the very foundations she had built her existence upon would be shaken by a force stronger than any she had ever faced, and that her true purpose would be revealed to her soon.
******************************************
Newly freed, the tall, curvaceous brunette ran one long slender hand through her mane of hair. She was confused, desperate, unsure of everything she had ever been taught to believe. Even, indeed, if she had really ever been taught anything - nothing that had ever made the slightest bit of difference, anyway.
New-found freedom and she didn't know what to do with it. She found herself desolate, crawling in the endless dark of the peculiarly long tunnel that had been the course of her natural life. The Chosen - that's what she had been told for years: that she was special, one-of-kind. But it hadn't mattered. It hadn't given her the purpose that she had hoped it would. Maybe it had even made things worse.
Glancing up, she caught a glimpse of the first star - so clear that it shined through even the thick smog of L.A. Refined, beautiful, a beacon of hope in the great void of night.
She too would have her purpose revealed soon.
******************************************
A redhead ran along the dirt road into the great expanse of night. Her heart thumped against her breastbone, her lungs screamed for air and the muscles in her legs grew tight as they clenched and extended with each leap. Running: running towards, running away, she did not know, but she kept on running.
To be chosen, to fight evil as it manifested itself on Earth - that was her purpose. No matter what, she had to keep going until one bad night for her or a lucky one for her prey would end the cycle. Until then, things moved in an endless cycle that she could not escape.
So she ran - following the path her prey had taken, she continued on, wondering to herself if this fight would finally end the cycle. End the trial and she could rest. Knowing that death lay at the tunnel, she wondered if she would ever serve her purpose, if such a thing really existed for a person.
But what her purpose was, she would not discover then. But eventually, the mists would clear and the path would be shown clearly to her tired eyes.
******************************************
From the shadow of surrounding buildings, dark eyes peered out into the gloom of the neighborhood. They belonged to a beauty, though this was currently hooded in a protective black cloak. The owner of the eyes watched with the cool observation of a huntress, taking in any shift in the mist. Her keen hearing was perked so that it picked up the slightest noise, despite the muffling qualities of the thick fog.
Crouched cat-like in the shadows, waiting for her target, she thought about what she was doing and how this might be the night that something finally ended her existence. A coffee colored hand came up and touched the cold brick of the wall next to her for reassurance. She had been waiting for hours, and there was no guarantee that she wouldn't be waiting for many more.
She wouldn't have to wait for long.