Her name was Elrien Dy'mana. Daughter of Liliana and Okaris. Sister to Daevan of the three swords, and to Kaelee the second-sighted. Her young life was spent in the southern cities of the Sharakhan empire where she was trained among the advanced academies of the Empires heartlands, and it was in those peaceful lands that she left her childhood.

Her father was a general of the Sharakhan army and enjoyed the favour of Emperor Rakha. His fame ensured her mother and siblings had few wishes which went unfulfilled, allowing them to live a life of luxury and ease. Elriens father, however, was not one for the simple pleasures of home - she saw little of him as he was always campaigning with his men in the north, and years would pass between his visits. But she had little desire to know her father much further than visiting stranger he had become, seeming that he always felt very much the same way, only bothering to make the journey home to see her mother.

Liliana, once a celebrated mage in the arcane arts, spent her days on their plantation entertaining guests and welcoming travellers into her home. She would, when she had the time, pass her knowledge onto Elrien who showed great interest in the subject. Whilst Daevan, who had little patience for such things, chose to pursue a more physical and, in his eyes, more rewarding path - learning the way of the sword and any other weapon the weapon masters were willing to teach him. Eager to make a name for himself and follow in their fathers footsteps, Daevan left to join their father on his campaigns soon after he reached the age of eighteen, and shortly after his departure Kaelee was born.

But destiny often takes strange turns that are not expected, and in the year 1370, when Kaelee was four and Elrien was sixteen, her mother took ill to the red plague spreading throughout the south. Within three months she was dead, leaving them both alone on their rich plantation. Her father, having recently taken the position of ruling magistrate over the City of Ghaarak, an imperial colony along the outermost fringes of the wild frontier known as the northern reaches, along with her brother, barely arrived in time to share a few last words with her mother before she departed this world forever.

After her mothers funeral, Elrien and her father were left with the awkward decision of what fate would befall herself and her sister. In many ways, she would have preferred to stay upon their plantation home in the south with Kaelee, and make her own destiny. But her father had other ideas and, at his bidding, they were brought to live among the imperial citizens of Ghaarak, where she finished her training at the imperial academy under her fathers care. Life upon this wild land proved very different from that of the civilized cities of the south, and she felt quite alone among her new home in Ghaarak. Her relationship with her brother, once carefree, became strained as he became more involved with their fathers work. And though she and her father now lived within the walls of the same city, she saw him little more than she had before, for he was always on official business with his duties as the city's magistrate.

However, her time was not completely wasted, and she worked night and day to finish her training at the imperial academy in the hope that she might yet be free to make her way in the world as her own woman. Unbeknownst to her at the time, her life was soon to take a turn that would change her fate forever.

Her name was Elrien Dy'mana, and this is her story.

****

Okaris bent low over the tome on his desk, sending dust flying into the air with every page he turned. A candle on either side of the desk illuminated the council chamber, the flickering of the flames cast shadows across the walls in an eerie dance, stretching them out of the corners they called home. By the two doors that led to the entrance chamber of the imperial grand hall, he could see the shadows cast underneath the door by the two guards that stood vigil there, the absence in light moving whenever they shifted from one foot to the other. Frowning as he came to a paragraph of fine print, he opened a desk draw and began to grope around blindly for his magnifying glass whilst keeping his eyes on the book.

After a few minutes of searching without success he huffed in annoyance and dragged his eyes away from the page so they could search impatiently around the draw for the glass. A low laugh filled the room, causing Okaris to start and jerk his hand out of the draw as his head snapped up to scan the room. Upon finding it empty he dismissed it as the guards outside the door finding something amusing and continued with his search, pushing papers and various objects out of the way, briefly giving the book a longing look.

"He's coming,"

Okaris started again, this time standing up and causing his chair to move back with a loud screech as the metal slid across the stone floor. He took more time to survey the room carefully; every corner, moving shadow and possible hiding place. But he saw it was as it was before - empty. Sighing, he glanced wistfully one last time at the page before closing the book. He obviously needed more sleep, he'd spent far too long cooped up in the chamber.

Frowning, he thought of his home, at least little Kaelee would be happy to see him - Daevan was probably still angry with him for the fight he had had with Elrien. But by the gods that girl was a handful and he swore she did the things she did on purpose most of the time, that's what annoyed him more than anything, and now there were rumours spreading through the guards that she'd been seen with Mylok. That man was shady even in the brightest of streets, and his reputation was one soaked in crime, dirt and possibly even murder. Sighing, he lifted his hand a pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb as he clenched his eyes shut against the incoming headache that always seemed to appear when he thought of his daughter.

"He comes for me,"

Tensing, Okaris lowered his hand and turned to the side, staring at the partially open door leading out into the corridor. Scowling, he strode towards it, yanking it fully open, and began to make his way towards the control stone chamber. Zhiram, the eccentric man that looked after the control stone was probably conducting one of his strange experiments. That was what he could hear.

"Garbed in red. Dressed in crimson."

Hesitating on the threshold, Okaris' scowl deepened before he crossed over. Zhiram's experiments got stranger by the day, he was probably enchanting one of the pedestal to talk, much like what Elriens gnome friend had done with the constructs.

Zhiram was strangely absent from the room. The chamber seemed echoingly empty without his presence, and Okaris felt a small knot of panic beginning to climb up from the pit of his stomach. Glancing round uneasily, he went to stand in front of the door to the treasury, reaching out to test it. It was locked, as he had ordered. But as soon as his hand touched the smooth metal, he heard the voice again.

"He will come,"

It was said at a deafening level, shrouded in more than one whispering voice. Okaris froze, his breath sticking in his throat as his eyes landed on it. On the black gem, that lay in the centre of the room inside the warded cage. Fear gripped him as his knees became weak, causing him to fall to the ground as he raised his hands to cover his pointed ears.

"And when he does, Okaris Dy'mana, neither you, nor your kin, nor you precious Rakha loving city shall be safe from my reach,"

A low wail tore from his lips, rising in both noise level and pitch as it rang through the chambers. The flames briefly died out, engulfing the building in darkness, before returning with a dark red tint to them that cast crimson light across the floors and walls. The shadows seeming to twist into strange shapes that were not cast by anything in the room. His eyes rolling back in his head, Okaris felt himself slump to the floor and his vision leave him as laughter filled his ears, dark and menacing.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him from his sleep, and Okaris lifted his head to stare bleary eyed into the concerned face of Captain Anagril.

"My lord..." Sitting up straight and rubbing his eyes, Okaris felt his back protest due to the stiffness he had caused by falling asleep in that position.

"Yes?" Even to his own ears his voice sounded strained and did nothing to ease the look on his face.

"You called out,"

"Did I?" Anagril's hand remained on his shoulder, its grip tightening slightly as the man lent in to peer more closely at his face.

"It was more of a scream really," Okaris did his best to not show his fear, forcing a smile that he knew did not reach his eyes.

"Honestly Anagril, it was just a bad dream so don't look so worried. I've just been spending too much time in this office, and my reading material doesn't exactly help," He nodded towards the open book on his desk that he had peeled his face off when he woke. "Myths and legends of distant lands. Most of them are quite disturbing," Frowning and clearly unsatisfied with Okaris's answer, Anagril straightened and withdrew his hand.

"Yes, my lord," He bowed stiffly and began to return to the entrance chamber, pausing in the doorway. "Ah, I suppose you would like-"

"Yes, Anagril," said Okaris quickly, cutting him off. "I would prefer it if you didn't mention this to my son. I do not wish to live under the same scrutiny again that I experienced the last time my… nightmares… were mentioned."

Nodding Anagril closed the door behind him, the sound of the lock clicking into place seeming to have a foreboding presence as it echoed around the chamber. He knew Anagril was most likely going to tell Daevan, or at least he would hear about the magistrates screams that travelled through the Imperial Grand Hall from somewhere else. Grumbling he closed the book and retrieved his cloak from where it hung, preparing to leave for the Imperial Estate. Pulling it tight around him he left the council chamber, nodding to the guards and saying a brief goodbye to Anagril as he went. Stepping out of the building he let the warm night air wash over him and breathed in deeply, appreciating the clean air that entered his lungs and smelt so much better than the damp, musky aroma he had been inhaling whilst studying the tome. The courtyard was quiet and the only passer-by's he encountered were the patrol guards as they marched past him. He paused in front of the statue of the Emperor Rakha and hesitantly reached out to touch it, his mind flitting back to his dream. As his hand came in contact with the smooth, carved stone a low laugh reached his ears, rising in sound as a harsh wind began to pick up. Okaris stiffened and withdrew his hand, turning to face the Imperial Estate with a strange expression.

"He comes for me,"