• Long ago, when the Krushnyals and the Veres were allies, they waged war with the humans, who had just begun to inhabit the world. Though weak, the humans fought back. Many were killed and after 5 years, were almost extinct. However, one expectant mother knew her unborn child to be different from the others. The power growing from the child surpassed that of 10 men’s already. She secretly fled the village and went into the wilderness.
    The child, a girl, was born, healthy and strong. Together, they lived in peace and anonymity in the dense forest. As the mother watched her child grow, the power also seemed to grow, but lay dormant. The mother could sense this much. Upon the child’s 12 birthday, they left the wilds to seek a priest who could possibly train the child and harness the growing power. As they walked the narrow path into the village, a pack of Veres attacked them. The mother screamed for the child to run, that she would hold them off, but having no powers of her own or weapons, she was quickly killed and devoured.
    The child, who had seen everything, went into a rage, the power finally awakening. She struck out at the Veres with a one swing of telekinetic power, slicing them in half. In that instant, the child swore vengeance on all Veres and Krushnyals for as long she lived.
    A traveling priest, who had taken cover in a nearby bush during the onslaught of the attackers, took pity on the young girl and offered her an apprenticeship. Seeing no other option except to live alone in the wilds and die young, she took the offer. She studied for 6 years under the priest, traveling from hamlet to hamlet, learning how to channel her unnatural powers into healing others. She quickly rose throught the ranks of her training and soon, her abilities rivaled those of her master’s. The one thing that deeply changed was her vengeance for the Veres and Krushnyals; once stemmed from anger and hatred, the six years of constant study and traveling had changed that rage into pity for the creatures that waged war upon their kind.
    They continued to travel the land until eventually, they came to a war-torn village. Many of the villagers were dead or dying and only the remaining few were sent to go fight. Immediately sensing the future death of so many people, the girl, now a young woman, went to go ease their pain and try to heal them. Most were simple ailments, but there were several that puzzled her and the priest. Some of them had begun to transform into Krushnyals or Veres.
    After some time of slowing the transformations, the young woman had a rash idea, but it might work. She hypothesized that if she melded her life force to the transforming patient, she could push the infection out. It was a sound theory but proving it was difficult at best. The priest tried his hand first, being older and more experienced; however, he failed to successfully treat the patients. The young woman was the next to attempt the same feat and after several unsuccessful and bloody tries, she was able to completely cure one of the patients.
    Upon the first fertile subject cured, the whole village rejoiced. They implored the young woman to treat the other fertile patients. The elders of the Krushnyals and the Veres sensed a disturbance and sent scout parties to find out what had happened. When they learned of their pawns successful recoveries, they began to plan an assault of the village and kill everyone, including the one responsible for destroying their plan. After many nights of deliberation, they would strike on the night of the new moon and slaughter the village.
    When the night of the black moon came, the villagers slept unaware, save those on guard against the occasional stray enemy. Like the night itself, the alliance moved swiftly and unheard through the forest. They were close to the village, the Veres could smell it.
    With an alarmed cry and the ringing of warning bells, the village was awoken to the sounds of a massacre. The young woman, who had sensed the danger, immediately leapt into the thick of battle with the villagers. They rallied to her and were able to defeat many of the opposing force.
    With heavy footsteps, the eldest Vere and Krushnyal stepped forward before the entire hamlet. In one swift motion, she was cast aside, isolated from the people who had surrounded her. Tears stung her eyes from the impact and a small trickle of blood slowly dripped down between her eyes. A slithering tongue passed over her nose, tracing the ruby red liquid to its origin.
    The eldest Vere, who had licked her wound, fell to the ground. His body convulsed and foam spewed forth from his mouth. His fur began to fall off in clumps and his nails slowly retracted back into his hands, leaving a bloody trail. Human ears replaced his animal ones and fangs shrunk to normal size. He let out a bloodcurdling howl that soon faded into a hoarse scream. The once Vere lay before the entire village a mere human man, lean and strong. A hushed gasp crossed the battlefield.
    The villagers who were still standing stepped back in fear of the kind woman who had just transformed this monster into a human. The Krushnyals and Veres looked at this man, this man who, moments ago, had be the eldest Vere in shock and awe. Their gazes fell on the young maiden, still staring at the man beside her.
    With a snap of long slender fingers, the eldest Krushnyal sent forth a few of the younger members in the alliance to collect the young maiden. The villagers dared not look as the sound of flesh being ripped apart and the screams of the transforming abominations pierced the night air.



    A young girl trembled slightly beneath the covers of her bed. Her bright green eyes were filled with a strange light of fascination and fear. Her black hair, tied back into a ponytail, was coming loose and a few strands fell in front of her face.
    “It’s all jussa story, right Daddy?” she said with a wavering voice.
    Her father, a man of 40 years of age laughed quietly to himself. Despite his actual age, he looked much younger, at least by five years. His hair had a one silver streak in it, just above his left ear and the wrinkles one normally sees on a middle-aged man were scarce, if nowhere to be found at all.
    “Yes, my darling Tori…” he replied softly, tucking the loose strand of hair behind his young daughter ear. “There’s no need to be afraid. Now go to sleep, dear child.”
    And with a kiss on the forehead, Tori’s father tucked her in and shut off her lights. He shut the door behind him with a sigh. His brow wrinkled with deep thought. Slowly opening the door a crack, he peered in on his sleeping daughter. How peaceful she looked.
    He shut the door again, and walked to his study, where a glass of brandy awaited him.
    “Perhaps, when you are older, I’ll explain your lineage and how you are linked to the story…”