Authors note: This part is a small interlude, which should, I hope, answer a few questions about the fae and vampires and why they are important in this story. The next chapter should hopefully be up in a few day's, for now, I hope this will quench your thirst. Big thank you to my Beta, Erin. Also thank you so much everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Umbra Iuguolo is Latin for Shadow Killers, the vampires.

Interlude…

In the beginning there was a balance. Everything had two sides; the forces of creation met and created an oasis of life among the coldness of the universe. They agreed that to this end, everything would balance. These beings held no concept of good and evil, for these were mortal inventions. The Creators were neither good nor bad. They simply were. One cast up her hand and created light, enjoying the spirit of the game, another created darkness. The two were mightily pleased. Disgruntled by this display, another pointed into the night and created the moon and a thousand stars. Light and Dark, laughed at her creation, praising the beauty she had made. The breath as they laughed swept out over the earth and became wind and breeze. Moon and Stars blushed, smiling at their comments. The last being looked upon the world they created and cast her hand, flowing and pouring, water was born filling oceans and lakes, making clouds in the sky.

For a time they played with this creation and populated it with all manner of creatures, but everything that they made had a balance.

A moment now stands out in eternity. Dark and Light sat observing the world, in boredom, Darkness created beings in his image. They walked in the shadows but their hearts did not beat. Unlike the creatures of the paradise they were timeless. Outraged by what he had done, for they each had promised not to recreate themselves, she retaliated by equaling the balance. A race of beings of light was born, revealing in warmth and summer; loving light and beauty. They were also ageless.

Moon discovered what they had done and called Water. They had upset the balance of the world so much that they were uncertain of how to fix it. Moon was the one who discovered the flaw. The two beings were so opposite of each other that a third balance was needed; a pivot of you will. Water and Moon stretched out their hands and willed into being a creature of contradiction and of short life. In this way was time truly created; man had been born. The creators soon discovered that their masterpiece had taken on a life of it's own, no longer could they interfere. They could only watch and hope that their world would not destroy itself.

Eons past, two great races were engaged in a war that shook the world to its very foundation, a war that lasted centuries. Even upon the elemental plain, the cries of the fallen echoed in pain and terror. The Fae raged against the Umbra Iuguolo, determined to bring them to their knees. Both desired to live in the mortal plain, neither could abide the other. An uneasy peace had lasted for an age but war had erupted when a man of the fae had killed the daughter of the Umbra Iuguolo's son, a vampire named Lillith. A younger cousin of Finvarra, who was the king of the Fae, Malwas had kidnapped the girl and when she refused to join with him or share the secrets of the Shadow Killers had decided to end her life. No accident this, but murder. The only way they could be killed was by beheading and draining the body of blood. Lillith's bloodless body was found in the faerie glen, miles from her home. Her head placed by the gates of her father's house.

Falcaron had been grief stricken; in his pain and anger he demanded a blood feud, between his house and theirs. Karithal supported his son; his granddaughter had been dear to him, the first child to be born to their people in centuries. Swearing revenge Half Moon House killed the fae man who had carried out this heinous crime and all his family who had helped. Honour and revenge had been served, now it was time to mourn the loss of the child.

But this was not to be. Finvarra, unheeding of his wife and queens cry that they should not retaliate, declared war on the Umbra Iuguolo. Each discovered ways of killing the other, but unlike mortal creatures the deaths of immortal one's tore at the fabric of space and magic. These creatures had been created to never die, but even in this there must be balance. Women of the fae and vampire found themselves with child unexpectedly. The souls of the dead were returning to the mortal plane.

By this point the war was at its most heated. In a show of unbelievable horror and brutality the fae slaughtered the women and children of the vampire clans, determined to eradicate them forever. For how could they be reborn if none were left to give birth? The birth of evil could be pinpointed to this act of destruction. The Clans anger was boundless, but in his wisdom Karithal forbade retaliation in kind. At this moment mercy and compassion and goodness were born. This had gone too far, he declared, but decided that until Finvarra was dead none of his kind would rest. It was on the fae king's head alone that his anger was now directed.

Rhiannon, sickened by her husband's actions betrayed him and brought him before the Clan, determined to bring an end to this war forever.

On blood soaked ground, the great king of the fae knelt bound in iron before the Master of the Umbra Iuguolo. Karithal watched the being that had decimated and denied his kind their children and mates and made a decision.

"I will not kill you. Your death would serve nothing. Instead you will live in the bowels of the earth for ten thousand years, deprived of sunlight and companionship, as surely as you have consigned my people to a similar hell."

Rhiannon had been bewildered.

"But you said you would kill him." She shouted.

"Too easy a punishment for one such as him, he would only be reborn and get the chance at life that none of my brothers, my wife or my granddaughter will know. A fitting end for one such as him."

"I beg you, have mercy!" She cried. On her hands and knees in the dirt she clutched at his robes.

"Find a way to bring all my people back and you shall have your king." He told her, raising her to her feet.

Rhiannon nodded her thanks, determined to find a way.

A hundred years passed and Rhiannon had finally found the missing souls of the vampires. She met with Karithal and told him her news.

"Your people are being reborn amongst the mortals. You can find them from there." She smiled her triumph and awaited his response.

"Well, that certainly has made your task much easier. You will find these children as they are born and bring them to my people to be raised in the rightful way."

"But… the balance, if we take something from them then we must give back something of equal value in return."

"Yes, you must. When all my people are returned, your King will be released."

Realization and pain at what she must now do flooded her veins like burning ice.

"My people are to be denied their children?" She screamed.

"If through the actions of their leader, whom they followed without thought, they denied my people their children, why should they not now suffer for what they have done?"

"I will return your people to you then. You have my word, but I do not want my husband returned. Keep him for eternity or kill him, it matters not. He has destroyed his own people now as much as yours."

Never looking back or meeting with Karithal again, Rhiannon paid for her husband's mistakes. For the next three thousand years the fae stole the babe's from their cradles and returned them to the Clans, leaving the fae children they loved so much with the mortals until they aged no more. So was born the legend of the changelings.

Unforeseen was the magic in the blood of the vampire and fae children. Those who carried vampire children or raised fae babes in their place, later gave birth to the first magical mortal beings, that one-day would call themselves Wizards and Witches.

Two millennia ago the last of the vampire children were returned. It was at this time that the fae and the vampire became aware of the ones called wizard, and realized what they had done.

Illyria and Falcaron met and discussed the problem. Since both sides agreed they were jointly responsible they decided to help their mortal children adapt. Four wizard children were taken and raised by the fae and the vampires. They were taught magic of unbelievable power, were shown how to craft wands and make potions; how to make charms and adapt the world around them to their own design. When the four left them after twenty years of education they returned to the land of their birth and opened a school. Never did they divulge the secrets of their kinds true origins to anyone.

Slytherin and Gryffindor had been the best of friends, closer than brothers; they were loyal to each other beyond everyone else. Rowena and Helga were sisters at heart and loved Salazar and Godric respectively. After thirty blissful years the dark ages descended upon them with vengeance. Children born of muggles were being burned and tortured being made to tell where others of their kind were. Slytherin house lost many children that year. A terrible row had erupted between Godric and Salazar.

"We must not send them letters Godric. We risk their lives and others by doing this. The muggle-born must be protected by innocence. The children who are already here must not be allowed to return to their villages, they may be killed!"

"Nonsense Salazar, we need new blood and pupils to keep the school open, without the muggle-born we may be forced to close."

Salazar was in a fury. He paced up and down choosing his next words carefully.

"My friend, we have reached an impasse on this discussion. You refuse to see the logic behind my request. If we continue to allow the muggle-born at this time the school may close anyway when they are discovered and killed." He waited, hoping that his friend may admit he was wrong, but holding little hope. Godric was too stubborn to admit it when he was wrong and too head strong to relent. The set of his chin was all Salazar needed to see. In defeat he held up his head and nodded once.

"Very well, I shall depart, our friendship is over."

Rowena ran to him and caught his arm.

"Why do you go? Where will you go? The school needs you my love." She said.

"Ah, sweet Rowena, I must go if we are to hold any hope of preserving the future of our kind. I will travel the country, and try and protect the muggle-born from their own kind until such times as it is safe to return."

"But Salazar, we need you here."

"Hush sweet, they will have you and Helga and Godric, damn his stubborn heart, to teach them. I am better trying to help them away from here. I love you my darling, but for now we must part." Kissing her on the cheek he left Hogwarts, never to return.

Godric Gryffindor never did admit he was wrong and over time the only part of Salazar Slytherin's story that was remembered was that he had wanted to stop muggle born witches and wizards from attending the school. Many came to believe that he had disliked them because they were not of pure-blood, but the truth was he had tried to protect them.

When Salazar left, he did as he told them he would. From one village to the next he stopped the real witches and wizards from being caught and murdered. Salazar called a number of his old students from the houses to help continue his quest and the name of the Knights of Walpurgis was whispered with fear through the world. Young witches and wizards over the next two hundred years were snatched from the jaws of death and sometimes from their beds and brought into the magical community under disguise. Many believed that the missing children and the slaughtered families was the work of wizards that despised the muggles, they never knew just how wrong they were.

At the beginning of the eighteen hundreds, the knights disbanded as the danger was finally over, and their secrets died with them. Even the descendants of these Knights never knew the truth behind their mission and lies and rumour had already turned them into monsters of Legend.

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