King of the South

Prologue 2

Turning down the proposals to be living, breathing weapons caused the humans’ leaders to snap, and for the first time in eons, the leaders took counsel together and sought to achieve a common goal, every man driven by his lust for power and his wounded pride.

Their goal? The destruction of the supernaturals.

They released a collective broadcast against them, painting them out to be threats to the lives of humans and their young, wanting to dominate the world and everything in it, and with that one action, supernaturals were the enemies.

Action? Kill on sight.

Overcome with horror, the supernaturals went quiet and stayed hidden.

Until…

One day, some of the children of the were-people, witches and dragons played far past the border, too carried away by their childish folly to notice...

After being caught and brutally murdered, each one of their small bodies were dragged to the center of civilization to be filmed and broadcasted for all to see…

The guilty, or, in this case, heroic humans, spun a tale of how the supernaturals had sent their younglings to do evil, leaving them with no choice but to painfully eliminate them to send a message. Together, in one last show of threat, their small bodies were barbarically ripped apart and hung on stakes like nothing more than lamb for supper…

With no way to protect themselves without opening more of their young to danger, the entire supernatural community mourned.

Still, the creator was silent.

A few supernatural kings, queens and stand-ins gathered themselves together and took another trip past their border to request for what remained of the bodies of their children to bury fitfully, one of whom was the sister to the Queen of all dragons. Evalika.

Whilst in the company of one of the world leaders, as the supernaturals pleaded their cause, Evalika’s eyes had mistakenly snagged on the one whom she recognized to be tagged leader of the ‘heroes’, and vengeance roared like a tumultuous sea within her. Chang Ming Wright was his name.

The same Chang Ming Wright who also happened to be the son of the Asian president, the man whose office they were in.

Chang Ming Wright…

That name that had filled her with so much hatred and a crippling need for vengeance, it almost took her breath away.

There, as she finally got to see him, Evalika openly stared.

And waited.

Chang Ming Wright…

He couldn’t have looked more aloof and uncaring even if he had tried.

Maybe if the killer hadn’t shown his face at their meeting, she would have let it go…

Maybe if he had made an effort to keep his bored sighs to himself, she would have let it go.

Perhaps, if he hadn’t made an effort to catch her eyes and throw her an oh so enchanting wink, she would have let him go.

But alas, the youngling heeded not the warning glint in her eyes. With a returning smile, Evalika sat back and made up her mind. That night, he would die.

Later, with the moon high in the sky to witness the hunger of vengeance, the blood curdling screams of Chang Ming Wright danced seamlessly with the wind as Evalika burned him until he was nothing more than bones with an ugly dusting of soot. Hearing the cries of his son, Daisuke Huan, Chang Ming’s father, bolted off his bed and up the stairs to the roof top where his bellows had come from, and as Evalika watched the father struggle to breathe in the air that still boasted of the events of the last few seconds, Evalika smiled.

“I can see how the acts of my people can be upsetting, but I am afraid that there is nothing that can be done concerning the recovery of the bodies of your children. From one parent to the other, I understand your pain. Accept my condolences...”

With his pompous words still dancing in her mind’s ears, Evalika graciously drifted down to the roof top, transformed so slowly it could be called sadistically beautiful, and, in all her naked glory, tilted her head to the side, her midnight black hair flapping to the sonorous rhythm of the wind.

“From one parent to the other, I understand your pain. Accept my condolences,” she all but sang, and without a moment’s notice, conjured up a dragon’s shield and granted him and his men the same exit as Chang Ming Wright.

What was that famous saying? Aha… ‘Vengeance was a dish best served cold.’

But what was colder and more malicious than Evalika?

Though put off, none of the supernaturals could fault her. The balance had been altered a long time ago, and whilst their first rule was to keep the peace and keep the balance, enough was enough.

War began, and what a great war it was.

Thousands perished in the battle of pride and greed against justice and vengeance. With the golden rule long forgotten, supernaturals went at humanity without mercy, and gave even worse than they got. Their only regret, the continuous suffering of the earth.

Decades went by with nothing but death and chaos. At long last, the supernaturals took counsel together and decided to call a truce. With their numbers almost completely wiped out, they concluded that what remained of humanity posed no threat to them. Deciding to salvage what they could of the earth and take what remained of humanity as their own, just like the creator had originally designed, the supernaturals called back their armies and withdrew the siege.

And for a while, all was well.

Until a missile was sent mere nights later, destroying thousands of the supernaturals… Including their only reigning king at the time.

Decades later…

It took decades for a few brave humans to commit the sacrilege of speaking of peace, and a few more years for others to agree, and slowly, everything was questioned.

“What exactly are we fighting for? The war belongs to their ancestors, not us. Some of us have never even seen the light of the sun, living underground in tunnels to survive, all because of the hate that has been bred into our hearts! …”

A few, even braver humans ventured to the top after saying their, possibly, last goodbyes to their families, to plead their cause. Peace.

A life where their young had the chance to thrive and grow, that was all they humans wanted.

They couldn’t take anymore war…

“We are only a little more than a million left. One more blow will wipe us out. Please!”

And the supernaturals agreed. A few days was all it took for some humans to feel the heat of the sun on their skins for the first time. Peace, a concept almost completely foreign to all was agreed on, and a treaty was signed, but on the condition that the world be split in two, because while everyone wanted peace, a large amount of supernaturals could not stomach the thought of living with the human race after everything they had done.

And so, it became. Two regions came into existence; The North and the South.

The North for the supernaturals who had no problems cohabiting with the human race, and the South for the supernaturals who did, and they went their separate ways.

A new millennium saw the era of humans living peacefully and thriving with the supernaturals in the North, and the South doing wonderfully well after having reverted back to the ancient language of the supernatural species, Liitani, and teaching it to their young, efficiently wiping out any trace of ever being affiliated with the humans. They hoped that they never again would be. Earth was healing, the supernaturals once again gained the forgiveness and favor of the creator, enough that kings were born and supernaturals in the North began to find mates in humans, and all were happy.

But change, as the wise said, was constant.

As time passed in the South, ancestors died out, leaving some of their kin questioning why they hated humans so, and others following the law of dislike righteously and without reason. Humans never ventured into the South alone.

Why?

They were only seen when some of the human knights followed the King of the North to the South during their annual meetings. But would it be so bad to have them? to live amongst them? To some, it was better that way because, even though they were of liberated thinking and found their human counterparts to be rather interesting, they were a rather confusing species, plus, their ancestors had made sure that language forever served a barrier, but, to the others, one of who was the king of the South, in the depths of their minds… it could be helped.

And, as if hearing his creation’s cries, the creator made a way, as one fated day, in t

he brightness of noon…

A destined meeting happened.