Book of Mirrors I The Celestials

Prologue

As a child, I was often told of stories where princesses and princes ride off into the sunset, arms wrapped in an eternal embrace. Many of my sisters and brothers started to believe those stories and hoped that one day their very own prince or princess would sweep them off their feet... I was foolish like them once.

For twenty-two years I was told my prince would come, that the one who was made to be my other half would ride in on a white horse to carry me off to live a life that was finally ‘complete’. That was what my people believed.

My people are lycanthropes or werewolves in simpler terms. We are the beasts that humans fear, the reason they lock their doors and hide their children when the full moon rises. However, in reality, it does very little to save them as we could steal their children away even during the day if we wanted to, but many of us are not the monsters they believe us to be. They believe that we are heartless and not capable of loving anything other than ourselves… but that is far from the truth. We do believe in soulmates. We believe that the Moon Goddess made us a life partner that we could lean on for support no matter what...at least that is what we were told.

We were never told of what happens to us when that person who is supposed to be our soulmate is cruel and emotionless. Those tales were put to silence, their characters shamed for what they could not control. We were told that we should not interfere with what fate had laid out for us, that we were bound to the chains of destiny.

Well then, it looks like it’s a good thing that chains could never hold me for long.

The wails of sirens pierced the night sky, but did little to mask the screams of the people who had their lives snatched from them. The air which was once filled with the soft scent of wild flowers now reeked with the stale scent of blood, the metallic scent burning its way through your lungs each time you had to take a breath.

With each breath that made its way into your respiratory system the heavier your heart sank, as you knew the blood you smelt belonged to the people you called family, the people who either watched you grow or grew up with you. These people fought beside you and trained with you. Their bodies now littered the wet earth, broken and battered, and instead of dying amongst friends and family, many took their final breaths laying down next to their enemies.

Most people would think that would be the worst thing a person could experience, but they were so wrong.

The visual embodiment of chaos could drive a person to insanity, but its voice was in a league of its own.

The sound of chaos was a melody that filled the air with the screams of the helpless being its amplifier. It roared in crescendo with the pleas of parents as they begged that their life be taken instead of their children's, but alas, even in chaos there is kindness. Their plea was granted with the cries of children as they watched life fade from their parent's eyes, their innocence forcefully stripped from them. However, the worst sound was not these screams, although they shook you straight to the core, the worst sound was laughter.

This laughter was not the one you hear in the presence of people you love, it was not the laughter that warmed your heart and made you feel safe. This was the laughter that sent chills up your spine and made your hair stand on end because you knew that once this laugh fell upon your ears, your life would soon come to an end. This laughter was made by the maniacs that painted their silver daggers scarlet with the blood of my people. They dripped with so much blood that the daggers no longer glinted under the moonlight, these sadists laughed as they saw the helplessness and vulnerability that painted the faces of their victims. Their laughter drowned out the useless pleas of their victims before they ended it with one swift movement.

Amid this chaos, a child's scream made its way through the orchestra of chaos. His small frame shook as he knelt next to a beautiful woman who looked as if she were sleeping if not for the ruby necklace draped across her neck with small rubies falling to the neckline of her dress, turning the white into red. The child begs her to stand, oblivious to the chaos surrounding him.

"Mother please wake up!"

This phrase is repeated, each time with more force as if he could bring her out of her eternal slumber. He paid no attention to the many who fell trying to protect him, surrounding him with their bodies. The golden armband that once gleamed brightly on his arm was now marred with streaks of red.

Oblivious to his surroundings, the child failed to sense the towering figure slowly creeping behind him.

The figure smiled to himself, the boy was nothing if not an easy kill. Blood dripped from his elongated canines as the thought twisted his lips into a cruel grin, his yellowed teeth glinting under the moonlight. He looked at his dagger, he smiled as it dripped rubies similar to the necklace that adorned the woman's neck. He thought himself merciful as he raised his dagger, he was ending the boy's suffering, after all, he was allowing the boy to join his mother in eternal slumber.