The Lost Empire

Misty mountain morning, such a calming prescence. The light is shining through just enough, it's early morning about 6am. That was as calm as it got. I packed my things. As soon as I was done, I heard the screech. They had caught my scent. I would be a goner if they caught up. I grabbed my pack and book. Nothing else was of importance. Just a few weeks ago I was a noticed, appreciated head servant. Everything ran smoothly, it was almost perfect, then it fell upon my Eighteenth birthday. I thought I hid my identity well but they knew who I was beforehand. Only thing they needed was for me to turn Eighteen. You see in this world there are three types of people. Lowest rank The Wolves, yes wolves, not werewolves just wolves. Midteir rank Banshees, ones that'll take your soul to look young for a day, selfish ones really. And last but not least. The Highest rank Nightwalkers or Vampires. There is a lost Rank which was above Nightwalkers and that was The Wielders, magic users. Ones that could kill for fun or use the power for good. Not much is known about magic users. They were taken down in the last war. That was nearly 20 years ago. The Nightwalkers didn't want any information about Wielders or the war to get to the new generation. It is rumoured that the reason was there was a magic so horrific that it was banned even by the Wielders. That didn't stop one of them though. He found the forbbiden articles and tried to use it against the nation. He wanted to be in control. Enough about that. I'm about to die! *Whoosh* One of the Banshees swooped down and swiped at me. 'Man they are fast' I thought. I needed a distraction. The mountain pass. If I could just collapse some of the boulders. I concentrated and flicked my hand to the right. My hand got hot and a pastel orange color emitted from my hand. The boulders rumbled and began to fall. Ducking and dodging for my life, I made it through the pass. I heard the screeches and screams but I didn't look back. 'Estwall should be near a small town but that's a start. No one should know me there' I thought. Well I was wrong. I entered the town about nightfall. I went to the Inn. 'Slaughter Hole Inn, that's a pleasant name isn't it' I sighed. A light jingle rang when I opened the door. I walked to the counter and saw a young man about 20 in age with his back turned. I gave a light knock onto the counter. He turned and I knew trouble would begin to brew. 'Why good grace was he here? Of all people why him?' My mind screamed. It was none other than Reginald Tholtsen, a Nightwalker.