(1743 AD, November 8th)
Danille Rether lived in one of the most beautiful houses in all of Britain. The house was built like a castle, except it had no moat, bridge, or protection. It was eight regular buildings tall with countless towers and windows. There was a lush green forest going on for hundreds of miles behind the house, and fields after fields of wildflowers. Danille lived with her older sister Kathrine and their parents; they were one of the richest families in all of Britain. Also one of the most popular families and had a great reputation. Danille had long raven hair with bright violet eyes, and was short and thin. She was rather smart, but had no common sense. She was shy and serious, which added up to a horrible temper with short patience.
On this particular day she was sitting out in the wildflowers, taking in the sweet smell of the summer afternoon. All the sudden she heard the pound of horses coming and quickly stood up. She ran up to the house just as the horseback riders appeared, and the leader gave her a curt nod.
"We must talk to Miss Danille Rether, we come with rather unfortunate news." he said, his voice having a stiff quality to it.
"I am her, Sir. What is it?" Danille questioned, her heart sinking.
The man shifted uncomfortably on his gray horse, looking at her for a long moment that seemed like forever.
"Sir Dwan died at battle in the North. I am very sorry for your loss, Miss." He quickly answered, voice as cold as stone.
Danille stood there for a long moment, agony washing over her delicate features. Tears threatened to pool out of her eyes, but she held them back.
"Thank you, Sir." She choked out and blindly into her Mother's study.
She dove straight into her Mother's arms and burst into tears. Her Mother stumbled back, shocked to the core. Danille hadn't hugged her for years, much less cried.
"Dwan is dead, Mum, dead!" Danille wailed loudly.
"He is dead!" yelped her Mother.
"Yes, now I have a dead husband AND a child to take care of all on my own!" she sobbed.
"I will help." Said a voice from the doorway.
They looked over quickly and saw Dwan's brother -Christopher- standing there, appearing to look saddened. Danille raced over and gave him a rib- crushing hug. Her Mother left and shut the door quietly behind her to give the two time alone. After she left, Christopher pulled away and backed up a few feet.
"But, Christopher, I thought you were at war with my husband! Why did you return? Dwan would have wanted you to stay!" Danille asked.
"I was released." Answered Christopher, smirking as horror passed over the twenty year old's face.
"How?" asked Danille, backing up until she finally ran into the wall.
Christopher pulled out his sword and stroked its edge, smirking even more at her scared face. He walked over to her and bent down to her ear.
"I killed Dawen, of course, your little husband. Now you shall suffer the same fate!" he whispered in her ear.
With a quick fluid movement he jabbed the dagger into her small frame, right where her heart should be. Her legs buckled and she collapsed to the floor, dead. Christopher yanked the sword back out of her body and sheathed it. He watched her dark red blood flow onto the cool floor and let out a deep laugh.
"Oops." He muttered, smirking.
He picked up her body and jumped out the window and landed on the ground like a cat. He grabbed his horse and rode away, riding without stopping for days. He reached a hut on the outskirts of a dark forest. He walked in and set Danille's now cold corpse on an oak table and surrounded her with lit candles. He lifted up a small pouch and an old, worn looking brown book. He took a handful of black powder out of the pouch and opened the book up. He began to chant in a cold, evil sounding language that brought chills up and down your spin. Then he waved the powder over her corpse and there was a loud bang. Christopher let out an insane laugh, throwing his head back.
"Now I have gotten your blood-line back for the pain you caused my ancestors! Dwan could over look it, the fool! In six generations the only living girl descendent of yours will have to battle the Dark Forces, an evil never seen before. Goodness shall never prevail!" cackled Christopher into the night.
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263 years later the girl was born, and she had a destiny outdoing even Harry Potter's. If she failed, there would be no light side again....
Danille Rether lived in one of the most beautiful houses in all of Britain. The house was built like a castle, except it had no moat, bridge, or protection. It was eight regular buildings tall with countless towers and windows. There was a lush green forest going on for hundreds of miles behind the house, and fields after fields of wildflowers. Danille lived with her older sister Kathrine and their parents; they were one of the richest families in all of Britain. Also one of the most popular families and had a great reputation. Danille had long raven hair with bright violet eyes, and was short and thin. She was rather smart, but had no common sense. She was shy and serious, which added up to a horrible temper with short patience.
On this particular day she was sitting out in the wildflowers, taking in the sweet smell of the summer afternoon. All the sudden she heard the pound of horses coming and quickly stood up. She ran up to the house just as the horseback riders appeared, and the leader gave her a curt nod.
"We must talk to Miss Danille Rether, we come with rather unfortunate news." he said, his voice having a stiff quality to it.
"I am her, Sir. What is it?" Danille questioned, her heart sinking.
The man shifted uncomfortably on his gray horse, looking at her for a long moment that seemed like forever.
"Sir Dwan died at battle in the North. I am very sorry for your loss, Miss." He quickly answered, voice as cold as stone.
Danille stood there for a long moment, agony washing over her delicate features. Tears threatened to pool out of her eyes, but she held them back.
"Thank you, Sir." She choked out and blindly into her Mother's study.
She dove straight into her Mother's arms and burst into tears. Her Mother stumbled back, shocked to the core. Danille hadn't hugged her for years, much less cried.
"Dwan is dead, Mum, dead!" Danille wailed loudly.
"He is dead!" yelped her Mother.
"Yes, now I have a dead husband AND a child to take care of all on my own!" she sobbed.
"I will help." Said a voice from the doorway.
They looked over quickly and saw Dwan's brother -Christopher- standing there, appearing to look saddened. Danille raced over and gave him a rib- crushing hug. Her Mother left and shut the door quietly behind her to give the two time alone. After she left, Christopher pulled away and backed up a few feet.
"But, Christopher, I thought you were at war with my husband! Why did you return? Dwan would have wanted you to stay!" Danille asked.
"I was released." Answered Christopher, smirking as horror passed over the twenty year old's face.
"How?" asked Danille, backing up until she finally ran into the wall.
Christopher pulled out his sword and stroked its edge, smirking even more at her scared face. He walked over to her and bent down to her ear.
"I killed Dawen, of course, your little husband. Now you shall suffer the same fate!" he whispered in her ear.
With a quick fluid movement he jabbed the dagger into her small frame, right where her heart should be. Her legs buckled and she collapsed to the floor, dead. Christopher yanked the sword back out of her body and sheathed it. He watched her dark red blood flow onto the cool floor and let out a deep laugh.
"Oops." He muttered, smirking.
He picked up her body and jumped out the window and landed on the ground like a cat. He grabbed his horse and rode away, riding without stopping for days. He reached a hut on the outskirts of a dark forest. He walked in and set Danille's now cold corpse on an oak table and surrounded her with lit candles. He lifted up a small pouch and an old, worn looking brown book. He took a handful of black powder out of the pouch and opened the book up. He began to chant in a cold, evil sounding language that brought chills up and down your spin. Then he waved the powder over her corpse and there was a loud bang. Christopher let out an insane laugh, throwing his head back.
"Now I have gotten your blood-line back for the pain you caused my ancestors! Dwan could over look it, the fool! In six generations the only living girl descendent of yours will have to battle the Dark Forces, an evil never seen before. Goodness shall never prevail!" cackled Christopher into the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
263 years later the girl was born, and she had a destiny outdoing even Harry Potter's. If she failed, there would be no light side again....