Prologue
Hatred is a poison that infects all it touches, festering in the blood until vision becomes blurred and reality is distorted.
His hatred grew, despising what he had become and that which had made him. His grip tightened on the sword, veins of blood ran down the blade pooling in the engravings, the words glowing with power as they drank up the blood of their enemy. His knees weakened but he stood his ground, plunging the sword into his heart, swearing by his sword that when the roses bloomed red; dripping blood upon the soil his vengeance would be taken and all who stood in his way would die and she would die without mercy for her betrayal.
Hidden in the roses bushes she watched him die, a smile creeping over her delicate features, as the child at her feet whimpered in her sleep. She picked the child up and disappeared into the night, laughter danced on the wind in her wake.